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GROWING UP
A Story of the Girlhood of
JUDITH MACKENZIE
By JENNIE M. DRINKWATER
"Each year grows more sacred
with wondering expectation."
--Phillips Brooks.
A. L. BURT COMPANY,
PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.
Copyright, 1894,
By A. I. Bradley & Co.
CONTENTS.
I. The Horn Book
II. Square Root and Other Things
III. Was this the End?
IV. Bensalem
V. Daily Bread and Daily Will
VI. The Best Thing in the World
VII. A Small Disciple
VIII. This Way or That Way?
IX. The Flowers That Came to the Well
X. The Last Apple
XI. How Jean Had an Outing
XII. A Secret Errand
XIII. The Two Blessed Things
XIV. An Afternoon with an Adventure in It
XV. "First at Antioch"
XVI. Aunt Affy's Experience
XVII. The Story of a Key
XVIII. Judith's Turning Point
XIX. A Morning with a Surprise in It
XX. Judith's Afternoon
XXI. Marion's Afternoon
XXII. Aunt Affy's Evening
XXIII. Voices
XXIV. "I Always Thought You Cared"
XXV. Cousin Don
XXVI. Aunt Affy's Faith and Judith's Foreign Letter
XXVII. His Very Best
XXVIII. A New Anxiety
XXIX. Judith's Future
XXX. A Talk and What Came of It
XXXI. About Women
XXXII. Aunt Affy's Picture
XXXIII. Nettie's Outing
XXXIV. "Sensations"
GROWING UP
I. THE HORN BOOK.
"I remember the lessons of childhood, you see,
And the horn book I learned on my poor mother's knee.
In truth, I suspect little else do we learn
From this great book of life, which so shrewdly we turn,
Saving how to apply, with a good or bad grace,
What we learned in the horn book of childhood."
--Owen Meredith.
Judith's mother sat in her invalid chair before the grate; she looked
very pretty to Judith with her hair curling back from her face, and
the color of her eyes and cheeks brought out by the becoming wrapper;
the firelight shone upon the mother; the fading light in the west
shone upon the girl in the bay-window, the yellow head, the blue
shoulders bent over the letter she was writing.
"Judith, come and tell me pictures."
About five o'clock in the afternoon, her mother's weariest-time,
Judith often told her mother pictures.
The picture-telling began when Judith was a little girl; one afternoon
she said: "Mother, I'll tell you a picture; shut your eyes."
It was in this very room; her mother leaned back in her wheel-chair,
lifted her feet to the fender, shut her eyes, and a small
seven-year-old "told" her "picture."
Telling pictures had been the amusement of the one, and the rest of
the other, many, many weary times since.
As the child grew, her pictures grew.
"Yes, mother," said the girl in the bay window, "I've just finished my
letter; I've written Aunt Affy the longest letter and told her all you
said."
"Read it to me, please?"
Standing near the window to catch the light, Judith read aloud the
letter.
At times it was quaint and unchildish; then, forgetting herself,
Judith had run on with her ready pen, and, with pretty phrases, told
Aunt Affy the exciting events in her own life, and the quiet story of
her mother's days.
"We are coming as soon as | 42.691238 |
2023-11-16 18:16:29.3958900 | 1,192 | 419 |
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THE GOLDEN MAIDEN and
other folk tales and fairy
stories told in Armenia
A. G. SEKLEMIAN
Introduction
Alice Stone Blackwell
Initial Letters
Ella Dolbear
Cover Design
Elizabeth Geary
The Helman-Taylor Company
Cleveland and New York
1898
INTRODUCTION.
A distinguished English student of folk-lore has written:
"Armenia offers a rich and hitherto almost untouched field to the
folk-lorist, the difficulty of grappling with the language--the
alphabet even of which was described by Byron as 'a very Waterloo of
an alphabet'--having hitherto baffled European collectors."
So far as I can learn, the two volumes of Armenian folk-tales collected
by Bishop Sirwantzdiants have hitherto been accessible to English
and European readers only through the medium of a rare and more or
less imperfect German translation. The late Ohannes Chatschumian had
begun a compilation of Armenian folk-lore for Miss Alice Fletcher;
but the work was cut short by his early death. Prof. Minas Tcheraz,
of King's College, London, has published from time to time during the
last eight years, in his paper "L'Armenie," a series of interesting
articles on the folk-lore and fairy tales of the Armenians, under
the title "L'Orient Inedit." He gathered these stories from the lips
of the poorer classes in Constantinople, as Mr. Seklemian did in
Erzroom. Prof. Tcheraz says: "The lowest strata of the population,
having received no instruction, and not having changed perceptibly
since the earliest centuries of our planet, keep still intact the
traditions of the past. It is above all from the talk of the women
of the common people, born in Constantinople or from the provinces,
that these things are to be learned. Gifted with strong memories and
brilliant imaginations, they still preserve all the legends bequeathed
from the past." But the files of "L'Armenie," like the books of Bishop
Sirwantzdiants, are inaccessible to the general public. Mr. Seklemian
has therefore rendered a real service to students of folk-lore who are
unacquainted with the Oriental languages, by bringing these curious
and interesting tales within their reach.
Many things combine to give especial value to Armenian folk-lore. Among
these are the great antiquity of the Armenian race, and its singular
tenacity of its own ideas and traditions.
Armenia was the seat of one of the most ancient civilizations
on the globe. Its people were contemporary with the Assyrians
and Babylonians. They are of Aryan race, and of pure Caucasian
blood. Their origin is lost in the mists of time. According to
their own tradition, they are descended from Togarmah, a grandson of
Japhet, who settled in Armenia after the Ark rested on Ararat. In the
earliest days of recorded history, we find them already occupying their
present home. They are referred to by Herodotus. Xenophon describes
their manners and customs much as they still exist in the mountain
villages. The Bible relates that the sons of Sennacherib escaped "into
the land of Armenia," (2 Kings xix., 37; Isaiah xxxvii., 38.) Ezekiel
refers to Armenia, under the name of Togarmah, as furnishing Tyre
with horses and mules, animals for which it is still famous; and "the
Kingdom of Ararat" is one of the nations called upon by Jeremiah to
aid in the destruction of Babylon. In the famous inscriptions of the
Achemenidae, at Persepolis and at Behistun, the name of Armenia occurs
in various forms.
The Armenians, according to their own histories and mythology,
enjoyed four periods of national independence, under four different
dynasties, extending over about 3,000 years. The ruins of Ani
and other great cities still testify to their former power and
splendor. It is now many centuries, however, since they lost their
political independence, and their country has been little more than
a battle-ground for rival invaders. Geographically, Armenia is the
bridge between Europe and Asia. In the early centuries, the Armenians
acted the part of Horatius and "kept the bridge," defending the gate
of Europe against successive invasions of the uncivilized hordes of
Asia. Their resistance was finally beaten down by superior numbers,
and now for hundreds of years the armies of Europe and Asia have
been marching and counter-marching across that bridge, slaughtering
and devastating as they went, till it is a wonder that any Armenians
are left, as a distinct race. Yet no race has ever retained its own
characteristics more clearly. This persistency of the Armenian type
is perhaps the most remarkable instance of race-survival in history,
except that of the Jews. Good observers say that it is due in large
measure to the comparatively pure family life of the Armenians in the
interior of Turkey, and especially to the virtue of the Armenian women.
Tradition relates that Christianity was preached in Armenia early
in the first century | 42.7153 |
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Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed
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HOW TO MAKE RUGS
[Illustration: LOOM WARPED FOR WEAVING]
How to Make Rugs
_By_
CANDACE WHEELER
Author of "Principles of Home Decoration," etc.
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1908
Copyright, 1900
By CANDACE WHEELER
Copyright, 1902
By DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.
Published October, 1902
CONTENTS
FOREWORD: HOME INDUSTRIES AND DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES.
CHAPTER
I. RUG WEAVING. 19
II. THE PATTERN. 33
III. DYEING. 45
IV. INGRAIN CARPET RUGS. 57
V. WOVEN RAG PORTIERES. 67
VI. WOOLEN RUGS. 79
VII. COTTON RUGS. 99
VIII. LINSEY WOOLSEY. 113
NEIGHBOURHOOD INDUSTRIES: AFTER WORD. 125
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Loom Warped for Weaving _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Weaving 20
The Onteora Rug 36
The Lois Rug 52
Sewed Fringe for Woven Portiere 72
Knotted Warp Fringe for Woven Table-cover 72
Isle La Motte Rug 90
Greek Border in Red and Black 108
Braided and Knotted Fringe 108
Diamond Border in Red and Black 108
The Lucy Rug 128
FOREWORD.
HOME INDUSTRIES AND DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES.
The subject of Home Industries is beginning to attract the attention
of those who are interested in political economy and the general
welfare of the country, and thoughtful people are asking themselves
why, in all the length and breadth of America, there are no
well-established and prosperous domestic manufactures.
We have no articles of use or luxury made in _homes_ which are objects
of commercial interchange or sources of family profit. To this general
statement there are but few exceptions, and curiously enough these
are, for the most part, in the work of our native Indians.
A stranger in America, wishing--after the manner of travelers--to
carry back something characteristic of the country, generally buys
what we call "Indian curiosities"--moccasins, baskets, feather-work,
and the one admirable and well-established product of Indian
manufacture, the Navajo blanket. But these hardly represent the mass
of our people.
We may add to the list of Indian industries, lace making, which is
being successfully taught at some of the reservations, but as it is
not as yet even a self-supporting industry, the above-named
"curiosities" and the Navajo blanket stand alone as characteristic
hand-work produced by native races; while from our own, or that of the
co-existent Afro-American, we have nothing to show in the way of true
domestic manufactures.
When we contrast this want of production with the immense home product
of Europe, Asia, parts of Africa, and South America--and even certain
islands of the Southern Seas--we cannot help feeling a sort of dismay
at the contrast; and it is only by a careful study of the conditions
which have made the difference that we become reassured. It is, in
fact, our very prosperity, the exceptionally favourable circumstances
which are a part of farming life in this country, which has hitherto
diverted efforts into other channels.
These conditions did not exist during the early days of America, and
we know that while there was little commercial exchange of home
commodities, many of the arts which are used to such profitable
purpose abroad existed in this country and served greatly to modify
home expenses and increase home comforts. To account for the cessation
of these household industries | 42.808573 |
2023-11-16 18:16:29.6803370 | 163 | 224 |
E-text prepared by David Edwards, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
http://www.archive.org/details/elsieatviamede00finl
ELSIE AT VIAMEDE
* * * * *
A LIST OF THE ELSIE BOOKS AND OTHER POPULAR BOOKS
BY MARTHA FINLEY
_ELSIE DINSMORE._
_ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS._
_ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD._
_ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD | 42.999747 |
2023-11-16 18:16:29.8740510 | 181 | 212 | 3)***
E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries
(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has the other two volumes of this
novel.
Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35428
Volume II: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35429
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
http://www.archive.org/details/charmingfellow03trol
A CHARMING FELLOW.
by
FRANCES ELEANOR TROLLOPE,
Author of "Aunt Margaret's Trouble," "Mabel's Progress," | 43.193461 |
2023-11-16 18:16:30.2696450 | 416 | 88 |
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generously made available by The Internet Archive)
[Transcriber’s Note:
Italicized text delimited by underscores.
There are many special characters in this text that require a utf-8
compliant font. If you find characters that appear as a question mark
in a black box or a small rectangle with numbers in it, you should
check your reader’s default font. If you have a font installed with SIL
after the font name, you should use that one.]
THE
WORKS
OF
RICHARD HURD, D.D.
LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.
VOL. VI.
Printed by J. Nichols and Son,
Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.
THE
WORKS
OF
RICHARD HURD, D.D.
LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.
IN EIGHT VOLUMES.
VOL. VI.
[Illustration]
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.
1811.
THEOLOGICAL WORKS.
VOL. II.
SERMONS
PREACHED AT
LINCOLN’S-INN,
BETWEEN THE YEARS 1765 AND 1776:
WITH
A LARGER DISCOURSE,
ON
CHRIST’S DRIVING THE MERCHANTS
OUT OF THE TEMPLE;
IN WHICH THE NATURE AND END OF THAT FAMOUS
TRANSACTION IS EXPLAINED.
SATIS ME VIXISSE ARBITRABOR, ET OFFICIUM
HOMINIS IMPLESSE, SI LABOR MEUS ALIQUOS
HOMINES, AB ERRORIBUS LIBERATOS | 43.589055 |
2023-11-16 18:16:30.2905000 | 1,163 | 426 | Project Gutenberg Etext of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel by Meredith, v5
#16 in our series by George Meredith
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2023-11-16 18:16:30.4717140 | 243 | 14 |
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book was produced from scanned images of public domain
material from the Google Print project.)
_LORD TONY'S WIFE_
BARONESS ORCZY
By BARONESS ORCZY
LORD TONY'S WIFE
LEATHERFACE
THE BRONZE EAGLE
A BRIDE OF THE PLAINS
THE LAUGHING CAVALIER
"UNTO CAESAR"
EL DORADO
MEADOWSWEET
THE NOBLE ROGUE
THE HEART OF A WOMAN
PETTICOAT RULE
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY NEW YORK
LORD TONY'S WIFE
AN ADVENTURE OF THE
SCARLET PIMPERNEL
BY
BARONESS ORCZY
AUTHOR OF "THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL," "THE LAUGHING
CAVALIER," ETC.
NEW YORK
GEORGE | 43.791124 |
2023-11-16 18:16:30.5740160 | 1,041 | 428 |
Produced by James Rusk. HTML version by Al Haines.
[Transcriber's note: Italics are indicated by the
underscore character (_). Accent marks are ignored.]
FOUL PLAY.
by
Charles Reade and Dion Boucicault
CHAPTER I.
THERE are places which appear, at first sight, inaccessible to romance;
and such a place was Mr. Wardlaw's dining-room in Russell Square. It was
very large, had sickly green walls, picked out with aldermen, full
length; heavy maroon curtains; mahogany chairs; a turkey carpet an inch
thick: and was lighted with wax candles only.
In the center, bristling and gleaming with silver and glass, was a round
table, at which fourteen could have dined comfortably; and at opposite
sides of this table sat two gentlemen, who looked as neat, grave,
precise, and unromantic, as the place: Merchant Wardlaw, and his son.
Wardlaw senior was an elderly man, tall, thin, iron-gray, with a round
head, a short, thick neck, a good, brown eye, a square jowl that
betokened resolution, and a complexion so sallow as to be almost
cadaverous. Hard as iron: but a certain stiff dignity and respectability
sat upon him, and became him.
Arthur Wardlaw resembled his father in figure, but his mother in face. He
had, and has, hay- hair, a forehead singularly white and delicate,
pale blue eyes, largish ears, finely chiseled features, the under lip
much shorter than the upper; his chin oval and pretty, but somewhat
receding; his complexion beautiful. In short, what nineteen people out of
twenty would call a handsome young man, and think they had described him.
Both the Wardlaws were in full dress, according to the invariable custom
of the house; and sat in a dead silence, that seemed natural to the great
sober room.
This, however, was not for want of a topic; on the contrary, they had a
matter of great importance to discuss, and in fact this was why they
dined _tete-a-tete._ But their tongues were tied for the present; in the
first place, there stood in the middle of the table an epergne, the size
of a Putney laurel-tree; neither Wardlaw could well see the other,
without craning out his neck like a rifleman from behind his tree; and
then there were three live suppressors of confidential intercourse, two
gorgeous footmen and a somber, sublime, and, in one word, episcopal,
butler; all three went about as softly as cats after a robin, and
conjured one plate away, and smoothly insinuated another, and seemed
models of grave discretion: but were known to be all ears, and bound by a
secret oath to carry down each crumb of dialogue to the servants' hall,
for curious dissection and boisterous ridicule.
At last, however, those three smug hypocrites retired, and, by good luck,
transferred their suffocating epergne to the sideboard; so then father
and son looked at one another with that conscious air which naturally
precedes a topic of interest; and Wardlaw senior invited his son to try a
certain decanter of rare old port, by way of preliminary.
While the young man fills his glass, hurl we in his antecedents.
At school till fifteen, and then clerk in his father's office till
twenty-two, and showed an aptitude so remarkable, that John Wardlaw, who
was getting tired, determined, sooner or later, to put the reins of
government into his hands. But he conceived a desire that the future head
of his office should be a university man. So he announced his resolution,
and to Oxford went young Wardlaw, though he had not looked at Greek or
Latin for seven years. He was, however, furnished with a private tutor,
under whom he recovered lost ground rapidly. The Reverend Robert Penfold
was a first-class man, and had the gift of teaching. The house of Wardlaw
had peculiar claims on him, for he was the son of old Michael Penfold,
Wardlaw's cashier; he learned from young Wardlaw the stake he was playing
for, and instead of merely giving him one hour's lecture per day, as he
did to his other pupils, he used to come to his rooms at all hours, and
force him to read, by reading with him. He also stood his friend in a
serious emergency. Young Wardlaw, you must know, was blessed or cursed
with Mimicry; his powers in that way really seemed to have no limit, for
he could imitate any sound you liked with his voice, and any form with
his pen or pencil | 43.893426 |
2023-11-16 18:16:30.6036610 | 1,350 | 146 |
E-text prepared by Guus van Baalen
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Words which may seem to be transcriber's typos, or otherwise
suspect, but which are reproduced faithfully (archaic spellings,
printer's typos--sometimes I couldn't tell):
Ch. I: befel, undigged
Ch. III: chaperon
Ch. IV: babby, mun, valtz
Ch. V: zounded, dimpsey, after'n, ax'n, ax
Ch. VI: picquet, damitol
Ch. XI: alwaies, Desarts, Eternitie
2. Diphthongs, given as single characters in the printed copy, are
transcribed as two separate characters.
THE WESTCOTES
by
ARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH
DEDICATION
MY DEAR HENRY JAMES,
A spinster, having borrowed a man's hat to decorate her front hall,
excused herself on the ground that the house 'wanted a something.'
By inscribing your name above this little story I please myself at
the risk of helping the reader to discover not only that it wants a
something, but precisely what that something is. It wants--to confess
and have done with it--all the penetrating subtleties of insight, all
the delicacies of interpretation, you would have brought to Dorothea's
aid, if for a moment I may suppose her worth your championing. So I
invoke your name to stand before my endeavour like a figure outside
the brackets in an algebraical sum, to make all the difference by
multiplying the meaning contained.
But your consent gives me another opportunity even more warmly desired.
And I think that you, too, will take less pleasure in discovering how
excellent your genius appears to one who nevertheless finds it a
mystery in operation, than in learning that he has not missed to
admire, at least, and with a sense almost of personal loyalty, the
sustained and sustaining pride in good workmanship by which you have
set a common example to all who practise, however diversely, the art
in which we acknowledge you a master.
A. T. QUILLER-COUCH
October 25th, 1901
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I THE WESTCOTES OF BAYFIELD
CHAPTER II THE ORANGE ROOM
CHAPTER III A BALL, A SNOWSTORM, AND A SNOWBALL
CHAPTER IV ENCOUNTER BETWEEN A HIGH HORSE AND A HOBBY
CHAPTER V BEGINS WITH ANCIENT HISTORY AND ENDS WITH AN OLD STORY
CHAPTER VI FATE IN A LAURELLED POST-CHAISE
CHAPTER VII LOVE AND AN OLD MAID
CHAPTER VIII CORPORAL ZEALLY INTERVENES
CHAPTER IX DOROTHEA CONFESSES
CHAPTER X DARTMOOR
CHAPTER XI THE NEW DOROTHEA
CHAPTER XII GENERAL ROCHAMBEAU TELLS A STORY; AND THE TING-TANG RINGS
FOR THE LAST TIME
CHAPTER I
THE WESTCOTES OF BAYFIELD
A mural tablet in Axcester Parish Church describes Endymion Westcote as
"a conspicuous example of that noblest work of God, the English Country
Gentleman." Certainly he was a typical one.
In almost every district of England you will find a family which,
without distinguishing itself in any particular way, has held fast to
the comforts of life and the respect of its neighbours for generation
after generation. Its men have never shone in court, camp, or senate;
they prefer tenacity to enterprise, look askance upon wit (as a
dangerous gift), and are even a little suspicious of eminence. On the
other hand they make excellent magistrates, maintain a code of manners
most salutary for the poor in whose midst they live and are looked up
to; are as a rule satisfied, like the old Athenian, if they leave to
their heirs not less but a little more than they themselves inherited,
and deserve, as they claim, to be called the backbone of Great Britain.
Many of the women have beauty, still more have an elegance which may
pass for it, and almost all are pure in thought, truthful, assiduous in
deeds of charity, and marry for love of those manly qualities which
they have already esteemed in their brothers.
Such a family were the Westcotes of Bayfield, or Bagvil, in 1810. Their
"founder" had settled in Axcester towards the middle of the seventeenth
century, and prospered--mainly, it was said, by usury. A little before
his death, which befel in 1668, he purchased Bayfield House from a
decayed Royalist who had lost his only son in the Civil Wars; and to
Bayfield and the ancestral business (exalted now into Banking) his
descendants continued faithful. One or both of the two brothers who,
with their half-sister, represented the family in 1810, rode in on
every week-day to their Bank-office in Axcester High Street,--a
Georgian house of brick, adorned with a porch of plaster fluted to the
shape of a sea-shell, out of which a. Cupid smiled down upon a brass
plate and the inscription "WESTCOTE AND WESTCOTE," and on the first
floor, with windows as tall as the rooms, so that from the street you
could see through one the shapely legs of Mr. Endymion Westcote at his
knee-hole table, and through another the legs of Mr. Narcissus. The
third and midmost window was a dummy, having been bricked up to avoid
the window-tax imposed by Mr. Pitt--in whose statesmanship, however,
the brothers had firmly believed. Their somewhat fantastic names were
traditional in the Westcote pedigree and dated from, the seventeenth
century.
Endymion, the elder, (who took the lead of Narcissus in all, things),
was the fine flower of the Westcote stocks, and, out of question, the
most influential man in Axcester and for many a mile | 43.923071 |
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file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
The Thousand and One Days;
A COMPANION TO THE
"_Arabian Nights._"
WITH INTRODUCTION BY MISS PARDOE.
[Illustration: P. 113.]
LONDON:
WILLIAM LAY, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND.
1857.
INTRODUCTION.
The Compiler of the graceful little volume which I have the pleasure
of introducing to the public, has conferred an undeniable benefit upon
the youth of England by presenting to them a collection of Oriental
Tales, which, rich in the elements of interest and entertainment, are
nevertheless entirely free from the licentiousness which renders so
many of the fictions of the East, beautiful and brilliant as they are,
most objectionable for young and ardent minds. There is indeed no lack
of the wonderful in the pages before us, any more than in the Arabian
and Persian Tales already so well known: but it will be seen that the
supernatural agency in the narratives is used as a means to work out
totally different results. There is, in truth, scarcely one of these
Tales which does not inculcate a valuable moral lesson; as may be seen
by reference to "The Powder of Longevity," "The Old Camel," and "The
Story of the Dervise Abounadar" among several, others.
The present collection of Eastern Stories has been principally derived
from the works of different Oriental Scholars on the Continent, and
little doubt can be entertained of the genuineness of their origin;
while they have been carefully selected, and do honour to the good
taste of their Compiler. An acknowledgment is also due to him for his
adherence to the good old orthography to which we have all been
accustomed from our childhood, in the case of such titles as "Caliph,"
"Vizier," "Houri," "Genii," &c.; as, however critically correct and
learned the spelling of Mr. Lane may be in his magnificent version of
the "Thousand and One Nights," and however appropriate to a work of so
much research and value to Oriental students, it would have been alike
fatiguing and out of character to have embarrassed a volume, simply
intended for the amusement of youthful readers, by a number of hard
and unfamiliar words, difficult of pronunciation to all save the
initiated; and for the pleasure of the young requiring translation
fully as much as the narrative itself.
In one of the Tales there will be at once detected a portion of the
favourite old story of Aladdin's Lamp, in the subterranean gem-garden
discovered by the handsome youth; while in another, mention is made
of the already-familiar legend of the hidden city of Ad, so popular
among the ancient Arabs[1]; but these repetitions will cease to create
any surprise when it is remembered that the professional story-tellers
of the East are a wandering race, who travel from city to city,
exhibiting their talent during seasons of festivity, in the palaces of
the wealthy and the public coffee-houses. Those admitted to the
women's apartments are universally aged crones, whose volubility is
something marvellous; and they are always welcome guests to the
indolent beauties, who listen to them for hours together without a
symptom of weariness, as they pour forth their narratives in a
monotonous voice strangely displeasing to European ears. The men,
while reciting their tales, indulge in violent gesticulations and
contortions of the body, which appear to produce great delight in
their audience. Since they generally travel two or three in company;
and, save in rare cases of improvisation, their stock of narrative is
common to all, it is their ambition so individually to embellish,
heighten, and amplify their subject-matter, as to outshine their
competitors; and it is consequently to this cause that the numerous
variations of the same Tale which have reached Europe must be
attributed.
Taken altogether, there can be no doubt that the "Thousand and One
Days" merit the warm welcome which I trust awaits them.
J. P.
LONDON, FEB. 1857.
CONTENTS.
I.
PAGE
HASSAN ABDALLAH, OR THE ENCHANTED KEYS 1
Story of Hassan 7
Story of the Basket-Maker 11
Story of the Dervise Abounadar 21
Conclusion of the Story of Hassan 29
II.
SOLIMAN BEY AND THE THREE STORY TELLERS 46
First Story Teller 47
Second Story Teller 49
Third Story Teller 55
III.
PRINCE KHALAF AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA 58
Story of Prince Al Abbas 67
Continuation of Prince Khalaf and the Princess of China 99
Story of Lin-in | 44.040741 |
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FRIENDS
BY
WILFRID WILSON GIBSON
LONDON
ELKIN MATHEWS, CORK STREET
M CM XVI
_BY THE SAME WRITER_
(Uniform with FRIENDS)
BATTLE (1915).
THOROUGHFARES (1914).
BORDERLANDS (1914).
FIRES (1912).
DAILY BREAD (1910).
AKRA THE SLAVE (1910).
STONEFOLDS (1907).
TO THE MEMORY
OF
RUPERT BROOKE
_He's gone._
_I do not understand._
_I only know_
_That as he turned to go_
_And waved his hand_
_In his young eyes a sudden glory shone:_
_And I was dazzled by a sunset glow._
_And he was gone._
23rd April, 1915.
CONTENTS
Rupert Brooke
William Denis Browne
Tenants
Sea-change
Gold
The Old Bed
Trees
Oblivion
Retreat
Colour
Night
The Orphans
The Pessimist
?
The Sweet-Tooth
Girl's Song
The Ice Cart
To E. M.
Marriage
Roses
For G.
Home
RUPERT BROOKE
I.
Your face was lifted to the golden sky
Ablaze beyond the black roofs of the square,
As flame on flame leapt, flourishing in air
Its tumult of red stars exultantly,
To the cold constellations dim and high;
And as we neared, the roaring ruddy flare
Kindled to gold your throat and brow and hair
Until you burned, a flame of ecstasy.
The golden head goes down into the night
Quenched in cold gloom--and yet again you stand
Beside me now with lifted face alight,
As, flame to flame, and fire to fire you burn...
Then, recollecting, laughingly you turn,
And look into my eyes and take my hand.
II.
Once in my garret--you being far away
Tramping the hills and breathing upland air,
Or so I fancied--brooding in my chair,
I watched the London sunshine feeble and grey
Dapple my desk, too tired to labour more,
When, looking up, I saw you standing there,
Although I'd caught no footstep on the stair,
Like sudden April at my open door.
Though now beyond earth's farthest hills you fare,
Song-crowned, immortal, sometimes it seems to me
That, if I listen very quietly,
Perhaps I'll hear a light foot on the stair,
And see you, standing with your angel air,
Fresh from the uplands of eternity.
III.
Your eyes rejoiced in colour's ecstasy
Fulfilling even their uttermost desire,
When, over a great sunlit field afire
With windy poppies, streaming like a sea
Of scarlet flame that flaunted riotously
Among green orchards of that western shire,
You gazed as though your heart could never tire
Of life's red flood in summer revelry.
And as I watched you little thought had I
How soon beneath the dim low-drifting sky
Your soul should wander down the darkling way,
With eyes that peer a little wistfully,
Half-glad, half-sad, remembering, as they see
Lethean poppies, shrivelling ashen grey.
IV.
October chestnuts showered their perishing gold
Over us as beside the stream we lay
In the Old Vicarage garden that blue day,
Talking of verse and all the manifold
Delights a little net of words may hold,
While in the sunlight water-voles at play
Dived under a trailing crimson bramble-spray,
And walnuts thudded ripe on soft black mould.
Your soul goes down unto a darker stream
Alone, O friend, yet even in death's deep night
Your eyes may grow accustomed to the dark,
And Styx for you may have the ripple and gleam
Of your familiar river, and Charon's bark
Tarry by that old garden of your delight.
WILLIAM DENIS BROWNE
(GALLIPOLI, 1915)
Night after night we two together heard
The music of the Ring,
The inmost silence of our being stirred
By voice and string.
Though I to-night in silence sit, and you
In stranger silence sleep,
Eternal music stirs and thrills anew
The severing deep.
TENANTS
Suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways,
We came upon the little house asleep
In cold blind stillness, shadowless and deep,
In the white magic of the full moon-blaze.
Strangers without the gate, we stood agaze,
Fearful to break that quiet, and to creep
Into the home that had been ours to keep
Through a long year | 44.061321 |
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Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Juliet Sutherland, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
The Riverside Literature Series
Kipling Stories and Poems
Every Child Should Know
BOOK II
_From Rudyard Kipling's The Seven
Seas, The Days Work, Etc._
EDITED BY
MARY E. BURT AND W. T. CHAPIN, PH.D. (Princeton)
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
COPYRIGHT, 1891, 1893, 1894, 1895, 1896, 1897, 1898,
1899, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903, 1907, 1909
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY WOLCOTT BALESTIER
COPYRIGHT, 1892, 1893, 1895, BY MACMILLAN & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1893, 1905, BY D. APPLETON & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1893, 1894, 1897, 1898, BY THE CENTURY COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY HARPER & BROTHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
PUBLISHED, APRIL, 1909
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
* * * * *
CONTENTS
PAGE
Biographical Sketch--Charles Eliot Norton vii
PART IV
(_Continued from Book I, Riverside Literature
Series, No. 257_)
IV. Baa, Baa, Black Sheep (from "Under
the Deodars," etc.) 143
V. Wee Willie Winkie (from "Under the
Deodars," etc.) 188
VI. The Dove of Dacca (from "Departmental
Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-room
Ballads") 205
VII. The Smoke upon Your Altar Dies
(from "Departmental Ditties and
Ballads and Barrack-room Ballads") 207
VIII. Recessional (from "The Five Nations") 208
IX. L'Envoi (from "The Seven Seas") 210
PART V
I. The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo
(from "Just So Stories") 213
II. Fuzzy Wuzzy (from "Departmental
Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-room
Ballads") 222
III. The English Flag (from "Departmental
Ditties and Ballads and
Barrack-room Ballads") 225
IV. The King (from "The Seven Seas") 231
V. To the Unknown Goddess (from "Departmental
Ditties and Ballads and
Barrack-room Ballads") 234
VI. The Galley Slave (from "Departmental
Ditties and Ballads and
Barrack-room Ballads") 235
VII. The Ship That Found Herself (from
"The Day's Work") 238
PART VI
I. A Trip Across a Continent (from
"Captains Courageous") 267
II. The Children of the Zodiac (from
"Many Inventions") 274
III. The Bridge Builders (from "The
Day's Work") 299
IV. The Miracles (from "The Seven Seas") 351
V. Our Lady of the Snows (from "The
Five Nations") 353
VI. The Song of the Women (from "The
Naulahka") 356
VII. The White Man's Burden (from "The
Five Nations") 359
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATIONS BY RUDYARD KIPLING
Initial for "The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo" 213
A picture of Old Man Kangaroo when he was
the Different Animal with four short legs 215
Old Man Kangaroo at five in the afternoon,
when he had got his beautiful hind legs
just as Big God Nqong had promised 217
* * * * *
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
BY CHARLES ELIOT NORTON
The deep and widespread interest which the writings of Mr. Rudyard
Kipling have excited has naturally led to curiosity concerning their
author and to a desire to know the conditions of his life. Much has
been written about him which has had little or no foundation in truth.
It seems, then, worth while, in order to prevent false or | 44.828079 |
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
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HISTORY
OF
ANCIENT ART
BY
DR. FRANZ VON REBER
DIRECTOR OF THE BAVARIAN ROYAL AND STATE GALLERIES OF PAINTINGS
PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY AND POLYTECHNIC OF MUNICH
Revised by the Author
_TRANSLATED AND AUGMENTED_
BY
JOSEPH THACHER CLARKE
WITH 310 ILLUSTRATIONS AND A GLOSSARY OF TECHNICAL TERMS
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
_All rights reserved._
The application of the historic method to the study of the Fine Arts,
begun with imperfect means by Winckelmann one hundred and twenty years
ago, has been productive of the best results in our own days. It has
introduced order into a subject previously confused, disclosing the
natural progress of the arts, and the relations of the arts of the
different races by whom they have been successively practised. It has
also had the more important result of securing to the fine arts their
due place in the history of mankind as the chief record of various
stages of civilization, and as the most trustworthy expression of the
faith, the sentiments, and the emotions of past ages, and often even of
their institutions and modes of life. The recognition of the
significance of the fine arts in these respects is, indeed, as yet but
partial, and the historical study of art does not hold the place in the
scheme of liberal education which it is certain before long to attain.
One reason of this fact lies in the circumstance that few of the general
historical treatises on the fine arts that have been produced during the
last fifty years have been works of sufficient learning or judgment to
give them authority as satisfactory sources of instruction. Errors of
statement and vague speculations have abounded in them. The subject,
moreover, has been confused, especially in Germany, by the intrusion of
metaphysics into its domain, in the guise of a professed but spurious
science of aesthetics.
Under these conditions, a history of the fine arts that should state
correctly what is known concerning their works, and should treat their
various manifestations with intelligence and in just proportion, would
be of great value to the student. Such, within its limits as a manual
and for the period which it covers, is Dr. Reber's _History of Ancient
Art_. So far as I am aware, there is no compend of information on the
subject in any language so trustworthy and so judicious as this. It
serves equally well as an introduction to the study and as a treatise to
which the advanced student may refer with advantage to refresh his
knowledge of the outlines of any part of the field.
The work was originally published in 1871; but so rapid has been the
progress of discovery during the last ten years that, in order to bring
the book up to the requirements of the present time, a thorough revision
of it was needed, together with the addition of much new matter and many
new illustrations. This labor of revision and addition has been jointly
performed by the author and the translator, the latter having had the
advantage of doing the greater part of his work with the immediate
assistance of Dr. Reber himself, and of bringing to it fresh resources
of his own, the result of original study and investigation. The
translator having been absent from the country, engaged in archaeological
research, during the printing of the volume, the last revision and the
correction of the text have been in the hands of Professor William R.
Ware, of the School of Mines of Columbia College.
CHARLES ELIOT NORTON.
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, _May_, 1882.
In view of the great confusion which results from an irregular
orthography of Greek proper names, a return to the original spelling of
words not fully Anglicized may need an explanation, but no apology: it
is only adopting a system already followed by scholars of the highest
standing. The Romans, until the advent of that second classical revival
in which the present century is still engaged, served as mediums for all
acquaintance with Hellenic civilization. They employed Greek names, with
certain alterations agreeable to the Latin tongue, blunting and
coarsening the delicate sounds of Greek speech, much in the same manner
as they debased the artistic forms of Greek architecture by a mechanical
system of design. The clear [Greek: on] became _um_, [Greek: os]
was changed to _us_, [Greek: ei] to _e_ or _i_, etc. This Latinized
nomenclature, like the Roman triglyph and Tuscan capital, | 45.009757 |
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Produced by Christy Phillips and John Hamm. HTML version by Al Haines.
The Arabian Nights Entertainments,
Selected and Edited
by
Andrew Lang
after the edition of
Longmans, Green and Co, 1918 (1898)
Contents
Preface
The Arabian Nights
The Story of the Merchant and the Genius
The Story of the First Old Man and of the Hind
The Story of the Second Old Man, and of the Two Black Dogs
The Story of the Fisherman
The Story of the Greek King and the Physician Douban
The Story of the Husband and the Parrot
The Story of the Vizir Who Was Punished
The Story of the Young King of the Black Isles
The Story of the Three Calenders, Sons of Kings,
and of Five Ladies of Bagdad
The Story of the First Calender, Son of a King
The Story of the Envious Man and of Him Who Was Envied
The Story of the Second Calendar, Son of a King
The Story of the Third Calendar, Son of a King
The Seven Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor
First Voyage
Second Voyage
Third Voyage
Fourth Voyage
Fifth Voyage
Sixth Voyage
Seventh and Last Voyage
The Little Hunchback
The Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother
The Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother
The Adventures of Prince Camaralzaman and the Princess Badoura
Noureddin and the Fair Persian
Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp
The Adventures of Haroun-al-Raschid, Caliph of Bagdad
The Story of the Blind Baba-Abdalla
The Story of Sidi-Nouman
The Story of Ali Colia, Merchant of Bagdad
The Enchanted Horse
The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their Younger Sister
Preface
The stories in the Fairy Books have generally been such as old women in
country places tell to their grandchildren. Nobody knows how old they
are, or who told them first. The children of Ham, Shem and Japhet may
have listened to them in the Ark, on wet days. Hector's little boy may
have heard them in Troy Town, for it is certain that Homer knew them,
and that some of them were written down in Egypt about the time of
Moses.
People in different countries tell them differently, but they are
always the same stories, really, whether among little Zulus, at the
Cape, or little Eskimo, near the North Pole. The changes are only in
matters of manners and customs; such as wearing clothes or not, meeting
lions who talk in the warm countries, or talking bears in the cold
countries. There are plenty of kings and queens in the fairy tales,
just because long ago there were plenty of kings in the country. A
gentleman who would be a squire now was a kind of king in Scotland in
very old times, and the same in other places. These old stories, never
forgotten, were taken down in writing in different ages, but mostly in
this century, in all sorts of languages. These ancient stories are the
contents of the Fairy books.
Now "The Arabian Nights," some of which, but not nearly all, are given
in this volume, are only fairy tales of the East. The people of Asia,
Arabia, and Persia told them in their own way, not for children, but
for grown-up people. There were no novels then, nor any printed books,
of course; but there were people whose profession it was to amuse men
and women by telling tales. They dressed the fairy stories up, and
made the characters good Mahommedans, living in Bagdad or India. The
events were often supposed to happen in the reign of the great Caliph,
or ruler of the Faithful, Haroun al Raschid, who lived in Bagdad in
786-808 A.D. The vizir who accompanies the Caliph was also a real
person of the great family of the Barmecides. He was put to death by
the Caliph in a very cruel way, nobody ever knew why. The stories must
have been told in their present shape a good long while after the
Caliph died, when nobody knew very exactly what had really happened.
At last some storyteller thought of writing down the tales, and fixing
them into a kind of framework, as if they had all been narrated to a
cruel Sultan by his wife. Probably the tales were written down about
the time when Edward I. was fighting Robert Bruce. But changes were
made in them at different times, and a great deal that is very dull and
stupid was put in, and plenty of verses. Neither the verses nor the
dull pieces are given in this book.
People in France and England knew almost nothing about "The Arabian
Nights" till the reigns of Queen Anne and George I., when they were
translated into French by Monsieur Galland. Grown-up people were then
very fond of fairy tales, and they thought these Arab stories the best
that they had ever read. They were delighted with Ghouls (who lived
among the tombs) and Geni, who seemed to be a kind of ogres, and with
Princesses who work magic spells, and with Peris, who are Arab fairies.
Sindbad had adventures which perhaps came out of the Odyssey of Homer;
in fact, all the East had contributed its wonders, and sent them to
Europe in one parcel. Young men once made a noise at Monsieur
Galland's windows in the dead of night, and asked him to tell them one
of his marvellous tales. Nobody talked of anything but dervishes and
vizirs, rocs and peris. The stories were translated from French into
all languages, and only Bishop Atterbury complained that the tales were
not likely to be true, and | 45.025513 |
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Digitized by Cardinalis Etext Press [C.E.K.]
Prepared for Project Gutenberg by Andrew Sly
RAGGED DICK;
OR,
STREET LIFE IN NEW YORK WITH THE BOOT-BLACKS.
BY HORATIO ALGER JR.
To Joseph W. Allen,
at whose suggestion this story was undertaken,
it is inscribed with friendly regard.
PREFACE
"Ragged Dick" was contributed as a serial story to the pages of the
Schoolmate, a well-known juvenile magazine, during the year 1867.
While in course of publication, it was received with so many
evidences of favor that it has been rewritten and considerably
enlarged, and is now presented to the public as the first volume
of a series intended to illustrate the life and experiences of the
friendless and vagrant children who are now numbered by thousands
in New York and other cities.
Several characters in the story are sketched from life. The
necessary information has been gathered mainly from personal
observation and conversations with the boys themselves. The author
is indebted also to the excellent Superintendent of the Newsboys'
Lodging House, in Fulton Street, for some facts of which he has been
able to make use. Some anachronisms may be noted. Wherever they
occur, they have been admitted, as aiding in the development of the
story, and will probably be considered as of little importance in
an unpretending volume, which does not aspire to strict historical
accuracy.
The author hopes that, while the volumes in this series may prove
interesting stories, they may also have the effect of enlisting the
sympathies of his readers in behalf of the unfortunate children whose
life is described, and of leading them to co-operate with the
praiseworthy efforts now making by the Children's Aid Society and
other organizations to ameliorate their condition.
New York, April, 1868
CHAPTER I
RAGGED DICK IS INTRODUCED TO THE READER
"Wake up there, youngster," said a rough voice.
Ragged Dick opened his eyes slowly, and stared stupidly in the face
of the speaker, but did not offer to get up.
"Wake up, you young vagabond!" said the man a little impatiently;
"I suppose you'd lay there all day, if I hadn't called you."
"What time is it?" asked Dick.
"Seven o'clock."
"Seven o'clock! I oughter've been up an hour ago. I know what 'twas
made me so precious sleepy. I went to the Old Bowery last night, and
didn't turn in till past twelve."
"You went to the Old Bowery? Where'd you get your money?" asked the
man, who was a porter in the employ of a firm doing business on
Spruce Street. "Made it by shines, in course. My guardian don't
allow me no money for theatres, so I have to earn it."
"Some boys get it easier than that," said the porter significantly.
"You don't catch me stealin', if that's what you mean," said Dick.
"Don't you ever steal, then?"
"No, and I wouldn't. Lots of boys does it, but I wouldn't."
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I believe there's some
good in you, Dick, after all."
"Oh, I'm a rough customer!" said Dick. "But I wouldn't steal.
It's mean."
"I'm glad you think so, Dick," and the rough voice sounded gentler
than at first. "Have you got any money to buy your breakfast?"
"No, but I'll soon get some."
While this conversation had been going on, Dick had got up. His
bedchamber had been a wooden box half full of straw, on which the
young boot-black had reposed his weary limbs, and slept as soundly
as if it had been a bed of down. He dumped down into the straw
without taking the trouble of undressing.
Getting up too was an equally short process. He jumped out of the
box, shook himself, picked out one or two straws that had found
their way into rents in his clothes, and, | 45.104946 |
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
The few minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected.
Please see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details
regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its
preparation.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CIRCUS LIFE AND
CIRCUS CELEBRITIES
BY
THOMAS FROST
AUTHOR OF ‘THE OLD SHOWMEN AND THE OLD LONDON FAIRS,’ ‘LIVES
OF THE CONJURERS,’ ETC.
[Illustration]
_A NEW EDITION_
=London=
CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1881
PREFACE.
-------
There are probably few persons who do not number among the most pleasant
recollections of their youth their first visit to a circus, whether
their earliest sniff of the saw-dust was inhaled in the building made
classical by Ducrow, or under the canvas canopy of Samwell or Clarke. In
my boyish days, the cry of ‘This way for the riders!’ bawled from the
stentorian vocal organs of the proprietor or ring-master of a travelling
circus, never failed to attract all the boys, and no small proportion of
the men and women, to the part of the fair from which it proceeded.
Fairs have become things of the past within twelve or fifteen miles of
the metropolis; but ever and anon a tenting circus pitches, for a day or
two, in a meadow, and the performances prove as attractive as ever. The
boys, who protest that they are better than a play,—the young women, who
are delighted with the ‘loves of horses,’—the old gentlemen, who are
never so pleased as when they are amusing their grandchildren,—the
admirers of graceful horsemanship of all ages,—crowd the benches, and
find the old tricks and the old ‘wheezes,’ as the poet found the view
from Grongar Hill, ‘ever charming—ever new.’
What boy is there who, though he may have seen it before, does not
follow with sparkling eyes the Pawnee Chief in his rapid career upon a
bare-backed steed,—the lady in the scarlet habit and high hat, who leaps
over hurdles,—the stout farmer who, while his horse bears him round the
ring, divests himself of any number of coats and vests, until he finally
appears in tights and trunks,—the juggler who plays at cup and ball, and
tosses knives in an endless shower, as he is whirled round the arena?
And which of us has not, in the days of our boyhood, fallen in love with
the fascinating young lady in short skirts who leaps through ‘balloons’
and over banners? Even when we have attained man’s estate, and learned a
wrinkle or two, we take our children to Astley’s or Hengler’s, and enjoy
the time-honoured feats of equitation, the tumbling, the gymnastics, and
the rope-dancing, as much as the boys and girls.
But of the circus _artistes_—the riders, the clowns, the acrobats, the
gymnasts,—what do we know? How many are there, unconnected with the
saw-dust, who can say that they have known a member of that strange
race? Charles Dickens, who was perhaps as well acquainted with the
physiology of the less known sections of society as any man of his day,
whetted public curiosity by introducing his readers to the humours of
Sleary’s circus; and the world wants to know more about the subject.
When, it is | 45.174957 |
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A YEAR IN EUROPE.
[Illustration: WESTMINSTER ABBEY--JERUSALEM CHAMBER TO THE RIGHT.]
A YEAR IN EUROPE.
_By_
WALTER W. MOORE, D. D., LL. D.
President of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia
THIRD EDITION
[Illustration]
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
The Presbyterian Committee of Publication
1905
COPYRIGHTED
BY
WALTER W. MOORE,
1904.
PRINTED BY
WHITTET & SHEPPERSON,
RICHMOND, VA.
TO
My Traveling Companions
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
AS A MEMENTO
OF HAPPY DAYS IN THE OLD WORLD.
FOREWORD.
The only excuse I have to offer for the publication of these desultory
and chatty letters in this more permanent form is that a number of my
friends have requested it. Many of the letters have already appeared in
the columns of _The Children's Friend_, for which they were originally
written, at the instance of the Presbyterian Committee of Publication;
but I have included in the volume several letters which were written
for other periodicals, and a considerable number which have not been
published anywhere till now. Some of them were written hastily, and, as
it were, on the wing, others with more deliberation and care. Some were
intended for young readers, others for older people. This will account
for the differences of style and subject matter which will strike every
one, and which will be particularly noticeable when the letters are
read consecutively.
In some cases I have drawn the materials, in part, from other sources
besides my own observations, the main object at times being not
originality, but accuracy and fullness of information. In such cases I
have endeavored to make full acknowledgment of my indebtedness to other
writers.
As most of the letters were written for a denominational paper, they
naturally contain a good many references to notable events in the
history of the Presbyterian Church, and to some of the differences
between that church and others in matters of doctrine, polity and forms
of worship. But I trust that in no case have I felt or expressed a
spirit of uncharitable sectarianism. If any reader should receive the
impression that I have done so in one or two instances, I request him
to suspend judgment till he has read all the references to such matters
contained in the letters. It will then be seen that if I have had
occasion to make some strictures upon the Anglican and Roman Catholic
Churches, I have not hesitated to make them upon my own church also,
when I have observed, in her worship or work, things which seemed to
argue that she was untrue in any measure to her principles; and that
if I have criticised the Anglo-Catholic and Roman Catholic systems as
erroneous, I have recognized thankfully the great evangelical truths
embedded in the heart of Anglican, and even Romish theology, though
so sadly overlaid, and have rejoiced to pay my tribute of praise to
the saintly characters that have been developed within those bodies in
spite of their errors.
RICHMOND, VA., _June 1, 1904_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
A COLD SUMMER VOYAGE.
A Pleasant Memory.--A Depressing Start.--Discomforts at
Sea.--Life on a German Steamship.--The Unification of
the World.--All's Well that Ends Well.--Arrival at Southampton, 9
CHAPTER II.
A VISIT TO THE TOWN OF DR. ISAAC WATTS.
A Sheltered Harbor with Double Tides.--Historical Interest
of Southampton: Canute, William the Conqueror, William Rufus,
Richard Lion Heart, the Pilgrim Fathers.--The Chief Distinction of
the Town.--Statue of Dr. Watts.--Sketch of the great hymn writer, 16
CHAPTER III.
SALISBURY, SARUM, AND STONEHENGE.
A Fascinating Cathedral Town.--Rural Scenery in Southern
England.--Impressiveness of Stonehenge.--Other Things of Interest
About Salisbury.--What the Bishop Said About the Presbyterian Form
of the Early Church, 21
CHAPTER IV.
WINCHESTER WORTHIES: ALFRED THE GREAT, IZAAK WALTON, THOMAS KEN.
Memorials of Kings Good and Bad.--Memorial of the Gentle
Fisherman.--Wit in Winchester College.--A Lovely Churchman | 45.246852 |
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Transcriber's note: Some typographical errors in the printed work have been
corrected: they are listed at the end of the text.
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
* * * * *
A
GRADUATED
ENGLISH-WELSH SPELLING-BOOK.
BY JOHN LEWIS.
LONDON:
LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, & ROBERTS.
1857.
PREFACE.
The object of this work is to facilitate the progress of Welsh children in
the acquisition of the English language. Every one admits that it is of the
highest importance in the education of the young, that they should be well
grounded in Orthography. Thirty years' experience as a teacher having given
the author ample opportunity of noting the peculiar difficulties in the way
of Welsh children attaining a general knowledge of the English language, he
would beg leave to impress upon teachers the importance of making the
children under their care learn and spell every word in this little book,
together with the Welsh meanings. The task, though difficult at first, will
in the end reward both the teacher and the child; the former with the
pleasure of witnessing his pupil's progress, and the latter with a general
knowledge of both languages.
The book is divided into three parts: the first contains about 2013
monosyllables, arranged alphabetically, and classified according to the
number of letters. The second contains about 7497 words, arranged
alphabetically, and classified according to the number of syllables. The
third contains copious English-Welsh Dialogues.
To save the trouble of putting down twice such words as are used as nouns
and verbs, the author has placed the meaning of the noun in Welsh, and then
the verb with a colon between them. In dissyllables, the learner will
remember to place the accent on the first syllable when the word is used as
a noun, and on the latter syllable when used as a verb.
THE AUTHOR
Llanrhyddlad.
A GRADUATED
ENGLISH-WELSH SPELLING BOOK.
WORDS OF ONE AND TWO LETTERS.
A, _un_
Ah, _O!_ _och!_
Am, _ydwyf_, _wyf_
An, _un_
As, _megys_, _fel_
At, _yn_, _wrth_, _ger_
Be, _bod_, _hanfod_
By, _gan_; _wrth_
Do, _gwneuthur_, _gwneud_
Go, _myned_; _ewch_
Ha, _ha!_ _och!_
He, _efe_
I, _myfi_, _mi_
If, _os_, _pe_
In, _mewn_, _o fewn_
Is, _y mae_, _ydyw_; _sydd_, _oes_
It, _e_, _fe_, _fo_
Me, _mi_
My, _fy_, _eiddof_
No, _na_, _nid_, _nage_
Of, _o_, _gan_; _am_
Oh, _O!_ _och!_ _ho!_
On, _ar_; _ym mlaen_
Or, _neu_
Ox, _ych_
So, _felly_, _fel hyny_
To, _i_, _at_, _wrth_
Up, _i fyny_
Us, _ni_
We, _nyni_, _ni_
Ye, _chwi_, _chwychwi_
WORDS OF THREE LETTERS.
Act, _gweithred_: _gweithredu_
Add, _cyssylltu_, _dodi at_
Age, _oed_, _oedran_
Aid, _cymhorth_: _helpu_
Ail, _dolurio_, _poeni_
Aim, _amcan_: _amcanu_
Air, _awyr_; _awyro_
Ale, _cwrw_
All, _pawb_, _oll_
And, _a_, _ac_
Ant, _morgrugyn_
Apt, _chwannog_; _cymhwys_
Arc, _cromell_
Are, _ydym_, _ydynt_
Ark, _arch_
Arm, _braich_: _arfogi_
Art, _celfyddyd_: _wyt_
Ash, _onen_
Ask, _gofyn_
Ass, _asyn_
Awe, _arswyd_, _ofn_: _dychrynu_
Awl, _mynawyd_
Axe, _bwyell_
Bad, _drwg_
Bag, _cwd_, _cod_: _cydu_
Bar, _bar_, _bollt_: _bario_, _bolltio_
Bat, _ystlum_; _clwpa_
Bay, _morgilfach_; _gwineu_
Bed, _gwely_
Bee, _gwenynen_
Beg, _cardota_; _erfyn_
Bid, _erchi_; _cynnyg_
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Patty At Home
BY CAROLYN WELLS
AUTHOR OF TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES, THE MARJORIE SERIES, ETC.
1904
_To My very good friend, Ruth Pilling_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE DEBATE
II. THE DECISION
III. THE TEA CLUB
IV. BOXLEY HALL
V. SHOPPING
VI. SERVANTS
VII. DIFFERING TASTES
VIII. AN UNATTAINED AMBITION
IX. A CALLER
X. A PLEASANT EVENING
XI. PREPARATIONS
XII. A TEA CLUB TEA
XIII. A NEW FRIEND
XIV. THE NEIGHBOUR AGAIN
XV. BILLS
XVI. A SUCCESSFUL PLAY
XVII. ENTERTAINING RELATIVES
XVIII. A SAILING PARTY
XIX. MORE COUSINS
XX. A FAIR EXCHANGE
XXI. A GOOD SUGGESTION
XXII. AT THE SEASHORE
XXIII. AMBITIONS
XXIV. AN AFTERNOON DRIVE
CHAPTER I
THE DEBATE
In Mrs. Elliott's library at Vernondale a great discussion was going on.
It was an evening in early December, and the room was bright with
firelight and electric light, and merry with the laughter and talk of
people who were trying to decide a great and momentous question.
For the benefit of those who are not acquainted with Patty Fairfield and
her relatives, it may be well to say that Mrs. Elliott was Patty's Aunt
Alice, at whose home Patty and her father were now visiting. Of the other
members of the Elliott family, Uncle Charley, grandma, Marian, and Frank
were present, and these with Mr. Fairfield and Patty were debating a no
less important subject than the location of Patty's future home.
"You know, papa," said Patty, "you said that if I wanted to live in
Vernondale you'd buy a house here, and I do want to live here,--at least,
I am almost sure I do."
"Oh, Patty," said Marian, "why aren't you quite sure? You're president of
the club, and the girls are all so fond of you, and you're getting along
so well in school. I don't see where else you could want to live."
"I know," said Frank. "Patty wants to live in New York. Her soul yearns
for the gay and giddy throng, and the halls of dazzling lights. 'Ah,
Patricia, beware! the rapids are below you!' as it says in that thrilling
tale in the Third Reader."
"I think papa would rather live in New York," said Patty, looking very
undecided.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," exclaimed Frank, "let's debate the
question. A regular, honest debate, I mean, and we'll have all the
arguments for and against clearly stated and ably discussed. Uncle Fred
shall be the judge, and his decision must be final."
"No," said Mr. Fairfield, "we'll have the debate, but Patty must be the
judge. She is the one most interested, and I am ready to give her a home
wherever she wants it; in Greenland's icy mountains, or India's coral
strand, if she chooses."
"You certainly are a disinterested member," said Uncle Charley, laughing,
"but that won't do in debate. Here, I'll organise this thing, and for the
present we won't consider either Greenland or India. The question, as I
understand it, is between Vernondale and New York. Now, to bring this
mighty matter properly before the house, I will put it in the form of a
resolution, thus:
"RESOLVED, That Miss Patty Fairfield shall take up her permanent abode in
New York City."
Patty gave a little cry of dismay, and Marian exclaimed, "Oh, father,
that isn't fair!"
"Of course it's fair," said Mr. Elliott, with a twinkle in his eye. "It
doesn't really mean she's going, but it's the only way to find out what
she is going to do. Now, Fred shall be captain on the affirmative side,
and I will take the negative. We will each choose our colleagues. Fred,
you may begin."
"All right," said Mr. Fairfield "As a matter of social etiquette, I think
it right to compliment my hostess, so I choose Mrs. Elliott on my side."
"Oh, you choose me, father," cried Marian, "do choose me."
"Owing to certain insidious wire-pulling I'm forced to choose Miss Marian
Elliott," said Uncle Charley, pinching his daughter's ear.
"If one Mrs. Elliott is a good thing," said | 45.530242 |
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THE IRISH ECCLESIASTICAL RECORD
MARCH, 1865.
THE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND THE BIBLE.
There are few so foolish as to close their eyes against the brilliant
rays of the mid-day sun, and, at the same time, to assert deliberately
that the sun is not yet risen, and that the world is still enveloped in
darkness.
Nevertheless, something like this has been done quite recently by an
estimable Protestant nobleman, who has assured his Irish fellow-countrymen
that the Catholic Church, before the Reformation, "neither furthered
the interests of science nor disseminated the knowledge of God's written
word".[1] There was a time, indeed, when such a calumny would have been
received by the British public with applause, and when it would have
been echoed from Protestant pulpits by the predecessors of Colenso, and
by the ancestors of many who now hold a place in the councils of her
Majesty. But that calumny has been long since abandoned, even by the
enemies of our holy faith. Our assailants have laid aside the mask, and
revealed to the world the important fact, that whilst they clamoured for
the Bible, they were themselves its true enemies; and that, combating
the Church, their secret aim was to sap the foundations of inspired truth,
and thus undermine the very citadel which they pretended to defend. It is
not in England alone, but in France and Italy, and throughout the whole
continent, that this striking fact is seen. Everywhere society presents
the singular phenomenon of a sifting of its elements; and whilst all that
aspires to the supernatural life, or clings to revelation, virtue, or
truth, is gathered into the bosom of our holy Church, all that is without
the Catholic pale is hurried down the inclined plane of Protestantism,
and cast into the abyss of infidelity and rationalism. And yet, in the
face of this social miracle, a Protestant peer is bold enough to assert
that the Catholic Church is opposed to the progress of science and
inspired truth;--thus insulting the memory of his own illustrious
forefathers, and outraging the feelings of his fellow-countrymen. It is
not, however, as a matter of controversy that we wish to enter on the
present inquiry: we wish to view it merely as a matter of pure historic
truth. In a future number we hope to consider the relations of the Church
to science; our remarks to-day will only regard her solicitude during the
ante-Reformation period to diffuse among her children a salutary knowledge
of inspired truth as contained in the Holy Scriptures.
1. The first question that naturally suggests itself is, did the Church
seek to remove the sacred volume from the hands of her own ministers,
that is, of those whom she destined to teach her faithful children, and
to gather all nations into her hallowed fold? The whole daily life of
these sacred ministers of itself responds to such a question. Ask their
diurnal hours, or any page of the daily Liturgy of the Church; ask those
beautiful homilies which were delivered day by day in the abbeys of
Bangor, Westminster, or Certosa, all of which breathe the sweet language
of the inspired text; ask the myriad children of St. Columban, who in
uninterrupted succession, hour by hour, chanted the praises of God in
the accents of holy writ; ask the countless sanctuaries which decked the
hills and valleys not only of our own island, but of every land on which
the light of Christian faith had shone--the peaceful abodes of those who
renounced the world's smiles and vanities to devote themselves to the
service of God, and whose every orison recalled the teaching and the
words of inspired truth. Ask even the medieval hymns published by the
present Protestant Archbishop of Dublin, which, though shorn by the
editor of much of their Catholic beauty, yet bear in each remaining
strophe a deep impress of the language and imagery of the Bible, and prove
to conviction that, so devoted was the Church of the ante-Reformation
period to the study of the inspired text, that the very thoughts of her
clergy, their language, their daily life, seemed to be cast in its sacred
mould.
2. About 1450, long before Lutheranism was thought of, the art of printing
appeared in Europe. Now some of the first efforts, as well of the wooden
types of Gutenberg, as of the more perfect models of Faust and Schoeffer,
were directed to disseminate accurate editions of the Bible: "No book",
says one of the leading Rationalists of Germany, "was so frequently
published, immediately after the first invention of printing, as the
Latin Bible, more than one hundred editions of it being struck off before
the year 1520".[2] And yet the number of editions thus commemorated is
far below the reality. Hain, in his late _Repertorium Bibliographicum_,
printed at Tubingen, reckons consecutively _ninety-eight distinct
editions_ before the year 1500, independently of _twelve other editions_,
which, together with the Latin text, presented the glossa ordinaria or
the postillas of Lyranus. Catholic Venice was distinguished above all
the other cities of Europe for the zeal with which it laboured in thus
disseminating the sacred text. From the year 1475, when the first Venetian
edition appeared, to the close of the century, that city yielded no fewer
than _twenty-two complete editions_ of the Latin Bible, besides some
others with the notes of Lyranus. Many other cities of Italy were alike
remarkable for their earnestness in the same good cause, and we find
especially commemorated the editions of Rome, Piacenza, Naples, Vicenza,
and Brescia.
3. Italy, however, was not only remarkable for the number of its
editions; it deserves still greater praise for the solicitude with which
it compared the existing text with that of the ancient manuscripts,
and endeavoured to present to the public editions as accurate as the
then known critical apparatus would allow. One or two editions deserve
particular notice, and in our remarks we will take the learned Vercellone
for our guide, in his _Dissertazioni Accademiche_ (Roma, 1864, pag. 102,
seq. 9).
The most famous edition of the fifteenth century was that of Rome in
1471. It was published under the guidance of John Andrew de Bossi,
Bishop of Aleria, and was dedicated to Pope Paul II. The printers were
Conrad Sweynheym and Arnold Paunartz. Their press was in the princely
palace of the illustrious Massimi family. Five hundred and fifty copies
were struck off in the edition; and on the death of Pope Paul II., his
successor, Sixtus IV., was its zealous patron.
The Venice edition of 1495 is also of great critical importance. The
religious superior of the Camaldolese of Brescia superintended its
publication. It consisted of four volumes in folio, and presented,
together with the Latin Bible, the gloss and notes of Lyranus. This
great work was dedicated to Cardinal Francis Piccolomini, who was soon
after raised to the popedom under the name of Pius III. From its preface
we learn that not only the best preceding editions, but also _five
ancient manuscripts_, were made use of in preparing this edition.
Still more accurate, however, is another edition, published without name
of place in 1476, but which Pauzer and Vercellone refer to the city of
Vicenza. Its editor was the learned Leonard Acate. He first sought out
with great care the most ancient and correct manuscript of the Latin
text, and then he devoted all his care to have it accurately printed.
In a short preface, he merely says: "Lector, quisquis es, si Christiane
sentis, non te pigeat hoc opus sanctissimum... Codex practiosissimus
in lucem emendatissimus venit"; and it must be confessed that this
statement was not made without reason, since, notwithstanding all the
critical researches of the last four centuries, that edition still holds
its place amongst the most accurate and most conformable to the ancient
Latin text.
4. Thus, then, in regard to the Latin text at least, Lord Clancarty must
admit that the Church in the ante-Reformation period was not negligent
in disseminating the Bible. And here we must remark that Latin was the
literary language of that age, and that whosoever could read at all,
was sure to be versed in the Latin tongue. How justly, then, does Mr.
Hallam, when speaking of this period, state: "There is no reason to
suspect any intention in the Church of Rome to deprive the laity of the
scriptures";[3] and how truthful are the words of another eloquent man:
"The Catholic Church is not the enemy of the Bible. I affirm it, and
I shall prove it.... She has been the guardian of its purity and the
preserver of its existence through the chances and changes of eighteen
hundred years. In the gloom of the Catacombs, and the splendour of the
Basilica, she cherished that holy book with equal reverence. When she
saw the seed of Christianity sown in the blood of the martyrs, and
braved the persecutions of the despots of the world, and when those
despots bowed before the symbol of Redemption, and she was lifted from
her earthly humbleness, and reared her mitred head in courts and
palaces, it was equally the object of her unceasing care. She gathered
together its scattered fragments, separated the true word of inspiration
from the spurious inventions of presumptuous and deceitful men, made its
teachings and its history familiar to her children in her noble liturgy;
translated it into the language which was familiar to every one who
could read at all; asserted its divine authority in her councils;
maintained its canonical authority against all gainsayers; and transmitted
it from age to age as the precious inheritance of the Christian people.
The saints whom she most reveres were its sagest commentators; and of
the army of her white-robed martyrs whom she still commemorates on
her festal days, there are many who reached their immortal crowns by
refusing on the rack and in the flames to desecrate or deny the holy
book of God".[4] And yet, if we are to believe Lord Clancarty, it is
precisely this holy Church that is opposed to science and to the
dissemination of the written word of God!
5. But perhaps Catholics were in dread at least of the original text
of the sacred Scriptures, and placed some obstacles in the way of its
diffusion. Here, again, we appeal to the testimony of facts. The only
editions of the Old Testament which appeared in the original Hebrew
language in the fifteenth century, were all printed beneath the shadow
of the Inquisition in the Catholic land of Italy. Soncino, near Cremona,
in 1488, Naples in 1491, and Brescia in 1494, are the cities to which
belongs the glory of thus giving birth to the first editions of the
Hebrew text. Bologna, too, was privileged in being the first to publish
the Chaldaic paraphrase of Onkelos: its edition appeared in 1482; and
for the next two editions, which appeared towards the close of the
century, we are indebted to Catholic Portugal.[5]
As to the Greek text of the New Testament, its first edition was printed
in 1514, under the auspices of an illustrious Spanish Franciscan,
Cardinal Ximenes. Though the New Testament is only the fifth volume
in the great Polyglot of Ximenes, yet it was first of all in order of
time, its text being completed on the 10th of January, 1514. Five other
editions followed in quick succession, in 1516, 1519, 1522, 1527, 1535,
all bearing the name of Erasmus.[6] The only portions of the Greek text
of the Old Testament that were printed in the fifteenth century all had
their origin in Italy, and bear the date of 1481, 1486, and 1498.
6. It is time, however, to refer to the first great Biblical
Polyglots--those vast repertories devised by master minds, and which,
presenting in parallel columns the original texts of the Old and
New Testaments, together with the various ancient versions, are
an incalculable aid in the study of Biblical criticism and in the
interpretation of the sacred books. Even in the publication of these
great works Protestants only came to glean where the Catholics had
already reaped an abundant harvest. It was the privilege of the
illustrious order of St. Dominick to give to the world the first | 45.980822 |
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Issued January 9, 1909.
U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE,
BUREAU OF CHEMISTRY--BULLETIN No. 119.
H. W. WILEY, Chief of Bureau.
EXPERIMENTS ON THE SPOILAGE
OF TOMATO KETCHUP.
BY
A. W. BITTING,
INSPECTOR, BUREAU OF CHEMISTRY.
[Illustration: Shield of the United States Department of Agriculture]
WASHINGTON:
GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE.
1909.
LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL.
U. S. Department of Agriculture,
Bureau of Chemistry,
_Washington, D. C., July 15, 1908_.
Sir: I have the honor to submit for your approval a report made by
Inspector Bitting of experimental work on the spoilage of tomato
ketchup, the conditions contributing thereto, methods of prevention,
the action of preservatives, and the length of time that the product
will keep under varying conditions of manufacture and temperature, both
before and after opening. Every effort has been made to conduct the
work in a practical way, and the results obtained can not fail to be of
interest and profit both to the manufacturer and consumer. I recommend
that this report be published as Bulletin No. 119 of the Bureau of
Chemistry.
Respectfully, H. W. Wiley,
_Chief_.
Hon. James Wilson,
_Secretary of Agriculture_.
CONTENTS.
Page.
Introduction 7
Process of manufacture 8
Selection and preparation of stock 9
Pulping 9
Cooking and seasoning 10
Evaporation and finishing 11
Bottling 11
Processing 11
Character of products 12
First-class products 12
Inferior products from “trimming stock” 13
Labels 14
Manufacturing experiments without the use of preservatives 15
Outline of experiments 15
Discussion of results 17
Spoilage of ketchup after opening 17
Spoilage of unopened ketchup 20
Spoilage of market brands 20
Sterility of ketchup 21
Experiments with preservatives 22
Sodium benzoate 22
Salt 23
Sugar 23
Spices 24
Water infusions 24
Acetic acid extracts 25
Oil extracts 25
Vinegar and acetic acid 26
Oil 27
Study of Penicillium in ketchup 28
Development 29
Reproduction 29
Growth in ketchup 30
Temperature tests 31
Histological structure of ketchup 33
Microscopical examination of some commercial brands 34
Summary 35
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PLATES.
Page.
PLATE I. Penicillium. Fig. 1.--Conidia, normal growth
and in various stages of germination, some with branching
hyphæ. Fig. 2.--Conidiophore, showing unusually large
development of conidia; from culture in moist chamber 28
II. Cultures from ketchup preserved with sodium
benzoate. Fig. 1.--Conidia and hyphæ from culture in
experimental ketchup containing one-sixteenth of 1 per cent
of sodium benzoate. Fig. 2.--Conidia and hyphæ from culture
in experimental ketchup containing one-tenth of 1 per cent
of sodium benzoate 28
TEXT FIGURES.
Fig. 1. A model receiving platform 8
2. Large receiving room showing the sorting belt 9
3. A section of a kitchen showing the copper cookers 10
4. An example of factory practice 12
5. Another factory interior 14
EXPERIMENTS ON THE SPOILAGE OF TOMATO KETCHUP.
INTRODUCTION.
The tomato, _Lycopersicum esculentum_, is supposed to be native to
South or Central America. The large fruits commonly used grow only
under cultivation, but the variety with small, spherical fruits,
known as _L. cerasiforme_, has been found on the shore of Peru and is
considered by De Candolle[A] as belonging to the same species as _L.
esculentum_. Though grown extensively in Europe, there is nothing to
indicate that it was known there before the discovery of America. The
tomato was introduced into China and Japan at a comparatively recent
date. De Candolle is of the opinion that the tomato was taken to
Europe by the Spaniards from Peru and was later introduced into the
United States by Europeans. Tomatoes were brought to Salem, Mass., by
an Italian painter in 1802,[B] who is said to have had difficulty in
convincing the people that they were edible. They were used in New
Orleans in 1812, though as late as 1835 they were sold by the dozen in
Boston. After 1840 they came into general use in the Eastern States,
but it was later than this before tomatoes were used freely in the
Western States, many persons having the impression that, since they
belonged to the nightshade family, they must be unwholesome. The extent
to which tomatoes are used at the present time shows how completely
this prejudice has been overcome.
[A] Origin of Cultivated Plants, 1890.
[B] Webber, H. J., Yearbook, U. S. Department of Agriculture, 1899.
The name _Lycopersicum_ is from two Greek words, meaning a wolf, and
a peach, the application of these terms not being apparent; the name
of the species, _esculentum_, is from the Latin, meaning eatable.
The common name “tomato” is of South or Central American origin, and
is believed to be the term used in an ancient American dialect to
designate the plant,[C] but its meaning is unknown. The English call
the tomato “love apple,” which in French is “pomme d’amour.”
[C] U. S. Dept. Agr., Exper. Sta. Record, 1899-1900, 11: 250.
The tomato is considered a typical berry, the ovary wall, free from the
calyx, forming the fleshy pericarp, which incloses chambers filled with
a clear matrix containing the seeds. The fruit measures from 1 to 5
inches in diameter, and is red, pink, or yellow when mature.
The plant sports freely, producing many varieties, which differ mainly
in the size, shape, and quality of the fruit. The varieties bearing
small fruits are _L. cerasiforme_ and _L. pyriforme_, each bearing a
two-celled fruit, the former being round, and somewhat larger than
a cherry, and the latter pear-shaped. These small tomatoes are used
ordinarily for preserves and pickles.
The word “ketchup” is adopted in this bulletin as the form which ought
to be given preference. The derivation of the term is not definitely
known. The spelling “catchup” given in some of the leading dictionaries
appears to be based on the erroneous idea that the first syllable
“ketch” is a colloquial form of “catch.” Several authorities derive the
word from the East Indian or Malayan “kitjap,” because “ketchup” was
originally a kind of East Indian pickles. Some give the word a Chinese
origin, while others assert that it comes from the Japanese. A majority
of the manufacturers employ the word “catsup,” a spelling for which
there does not appear to be any warrant.
PROCESS OF MANUFACTURE.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.--A model receiving platform.]
The making of tomato ketchup consists essentially in reducing tomatoes
to pulp, removing the skins, seeds, hard parts, and stems, adding
salt, sugar, condiments, and vinegar to suit the taste, and cooking
to a proper consistency. The methods and practices of the various
manufacturers differ, and the difference between the best and the
poorest procedure corresponds to that between the best and the worst
ketchup. No single factory has all of the best methods at every step
of manufacture. Some perform certain details well and are negligent
in others. In some, large amounts of money are spent on equipment to
improve a particular point considered advantageous by the trade, while
other details essential to the making of a good-keeping ketchup are
disregarded. A statement of the best practice as observed at a number
of factories, together with some facts obtained from experiments, will
be given.
SELECTION AND PREPARATION OF STOCK.
The tomatoes should be home-grown, of a red variety having the minimum
of yellow and purple color, be picked when ripe, and delivered to
the factory promptly without mashing. All tomatoes should pass over
an inspection table, the rotten and otherwise unfit fruit should be
discarded, and the green tomatoes should be returned to crates to
ripen. The stems should be removed when the best color is desired,
and the tomatoes should be thoroughly washed to remove dirt and mold.
Dumping a crate of tomatoes into a hopper of dirty water and playing a
gentle spray of water on part of them merely wets the skin and makes
them appear bright.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.--Large receiving room showing the sorting belt.]
PULPING.
The clean tomatoes should be conveyed to the steaming tanks and
subjected to steam heat until the skins burst and the meat softens.
After a short heating the tomatoes should be run through a “cyclone”
where the skins, seeds, etc., are removed and they are rubbed to a
pulp. To remove very small particles and fiber, the pulp may be run
through a sieving machine at once; or, if ketchup of the smoothest
possible kind is to be made, this procedure should be delayed until
after the cooking. The pulp is collected in a receiving vat, and
only such an amount should be provided in advance as will keep the
kettles full, as it is better to stop the tomatoes before going to
the washer than to have the pulp stand for some hours. In common
practice, however, the pulp is either sent to the cooker at once, or
it is allowed to stand and partially separate. If tall casks are used
for this separation the solids will rise to the top and the clear
watery portion is drawn off at the bottom, or the pulp may be strained
through cloth bags. The object of this separation is to secure greater
concentration of the solids, retain a brighter color, and shorten the
time of cooking.
COOKING AND SEASONING.
[Illustration: Fig. 3.--A section of a kitchen showing the copper
cookers.]
The cooking may be done in copper kettles, as shown in figure 3, though
these are being superseded by enamel tanks containing silver-plated
coils in order to secure the brightest color. By using the latter the
discoloration due to the splashing of the contents against the walls of
the copper vessel is avoided, and economy of space is secured. Whole
or ground spices, or acetic acid or oil extracts of the spices may be
added to the pulp in such proportion as the particular brand demands.
The spices most used are cloves, cinnamon, mace, and cayenne pepper;
but paprika, pepper, mustard, cardamon, coriander, ginger, celery, and
allspice are used by some manufacturers. When whole spices are used,
it is the practice to suspend them in a cloth bag or a wire basket and
to take them out after boiling. They tend to darken the color of the
ketchup, a result considered undesirable by some. The ground spices
are used sparingly, with the exception of cayenne pepper. The acetic
acid extracts of spices are used because they are economical and give
a brighter red color than is obtained with the whole spice. The oil
extracts produce no discoloration, but they are the most expensive and
give an objectionable flavor. Hungarian sweet paprika is now quite
largely used and adds to the color as well as to the flavor. Sugar,
salt, and vinegar are added in such proportion as may be desired, and
in some brands onions and garlic are used.
EVAPORATION AND FINISHING.
The pulp is evaporated rapidly to such consistency as the grade and
price will warrant, the reduction in volume being from 40 to 60 per
cent. This is accomplished in about forty-five minutes. The cooking is
not continued longer than is necessary, as each minute added to the
cooking darkens the finished product.
If the pulp has been run through the sieving machine before cooking,
the batch may be drawn off into the receiving tank for bottling. If the
finishing be done after cooking, the pulp is run into a receiving vat,
finished as quickly as possible, and drawn into the tank for bottling.
The ketchup may be kept at a high temperature--200° to 206° F.--in the
receiving tank by means of a small steam coil, or it may be drawn to
the bottling machine through a steam-jacketed tube. Finishing after
cooking yields a slightly smoother ketchup than sieving before cooking;
but it necessitates handling, reduces the temperature, and increases
the chances of infection.
BOTTLING.
The bottles should be thoroughly cleaned as ketchup will not keep if
placed in bottles which have been merely rinsed to remove the straw; if
the ketchup is not to be given an after process the containers should
be sterilized. In the experimental work cork stoppers gave the best
results and these should be sterilized in a paraffin bath at 250° F.
PROCESSING.
An after treatment or process is given to bottled goods either in a
water or steam bath, the important point being that the center of the
bottle be raised to the desired degree of heat. If the ketchup is thin
this can be effected quickly, but if it is thick and heavy the heat
penetrates the ketchup with surprising slowness. In a thin ketchup
the temperature may be raised from 140° to 190° F. in eighteen minutes
or less when the surrounding heat is 195° F; but in a heavy ketchup it
may take an hour or more to accomplish the same result. It is therefore
very important that the ketchup be processed immediately after it is
corked, before it has time to cool. The rate at which the heating is
effected for different goods can be determined by sealing a thermometer
in the cork and recording the readings.
[Illustration: Fig. 4.--An example of factory practice showing the
top row of tanks from which pulp passes by gravity into the cookers,
then into the receiver, sieving machine, and final tub ready for the
bottling machine or jug filler.]
CHARACTER OF PRODUCTS.
FIRST-CLASS PRODUCTS.
The factory at which the experiments were conducted has sanitary
buildings and surroundings, the floors are of concrete for flushing,
and the pipes used in conducting the pulp to the kitchens are
porcelain-lined to prevent discoloration from the iron and to insure
cleanliness. The tubes which carry the ketchup from the kettles to the
receiving tank, finishing machine, and bottler are silver-plated. Not
all of these measures are necessary to make a good ketchup, but they
show the care exercised in making an article of good appearance and of
the finest quality.
The conditions under which ketchup is made and the care with which the
work is done at some of the better factories is equal to that used in
the manufacture of any food product. Whole selected fruit is used,
cleanliness is maintained at every point, the best grades of spices,
vinegar, granulated sugar, and salt are added for flavoring, and the
bottles are carefully washed. The ketchup put up under such conditions
will have a bright natural color, will remain good as long as the
container is unbroken, and will continue in that condition for some
time after opening if kept at a fairly cool temperature.
INFERIOR PRODUCTS FROM “TRIMMING STOCK.”
In contrast with the strictly high-grade product is the great bulk
of the ketchup found on the market. The material is not whole ripe
tomatoes, but consists of the waste of the canning factory, commonly
designated as “trimming stock,” including the green, moldy, broken,
rotten, and generally unusable tomatoes, the skins, cores, and stems
from the peeling tables, and the surplus juice from the filling
machines, all of which may be allowed to stand during the day and be
run through the cyclone in the evening. At the end of the season, the
frosted and half-ripe fruits may be used. Part of this material can
not be considered “sound fruit” as contemplated by the food and drugs
act. The pulp is put up in barrels, preserved, and allowed to stand,
possibly in the sun, until a sufficient quantity has accumulated for
shipment. Old ketchup barrels may be used and be none too clean. As a
result, it is not uncommon to see an inch or more of pulp in the bottom
of a car at the end of shipment, caused by the blowing out of the
barrel heads from fermentation. The sanitary condition of the factory
may be poor, the handling of the goods be unclean, the spices be the
refuse from the spice houses, the sugar be of the cheapest grade, and
the bottles be only rinsed or be used without even that precaution.
The ketchup is a concoction so heavily spiced with hot spices that the
tomato flavor is lost and might as well be anything else. The color is
normally dirty brown.
Between these two extremes are all grades, those for which whole
tomatoes, unsorted, are used, those for which trimming stock is worked
up promptly during the canning season, and those made from stock of
unknown history. Some manufacturers work under good and some under poor
sanitary conditions. There can be no doubt that with proper selection
and precaution much of the by-product of the canning factory and large
quantities of tomatoes which are unsuitable for canning might be used
to advantage in the manufacture of ketchup; but it requires a nicety
of practice not generally found at this time. The practice sometimes
followed | 46.102321 |
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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.
AN
ETHNOLOGIST'S VIEW OF HISTORY.
AN ADDRESS
BEFORE THE
ANNUAL MEETING OF THE NEW JERSEY HISTORICAL SOCIETY,
AT
TRENTON, NEW JERSEY, JANUARY 28, 1896.
BY
DANIEL G. BRINTON, A. M., M. D., LL. D., D. Sc.
PROFESSOR OF AMERICAN ARCHAEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
PENNSYLVANIA AND OF GENERAL ETHNOLOGY AT THE
ACADEMY OF NATURAL SCIENCES OF PHILADELPHIA.
PHILADELPHIA, PA.
1896.
An Ethnologist's View of History.
MR. PRESIDENT:
* * * * *
The intelligent thought of the world is ever advancing to a fuller
appreciation of the worth of the past to the present and the future.
Never before have associations, societies and journals devoted to
historical studies been so numerous. All times and tribes are searched
for memorials; the remote corners of modern, medieval and ancient
periods are brought under scrutiny; and going beyond these again, the
semi-historic eras of tradition and the nebulous gleams from
pre-historic milleniums[TN-1] are diligently scanned, that their
uncertain story may be prefaced to that registered in "the syllables of
recorded time."
In this manner a vast mass of material is accumulating with which the
historian has to deal. What now is the real nature of the task he sets
before himself? What is the mission with which he is entrusted?
To understand this task, to appreciate that mission, he must ask himself
the broad questions: What is the aim of history? What are the purposes
for which it should be studied and written?
He will find no lack of answers to these inquiries, all offered with
equal confidence, but singularly discrepant among themselves. His
embarrassment will be that of selection between widely divergent views,
each ably supported by distinguished advocates.
As I am going to add still another, not exactly like any already on the
list, it may well be asked of me to show why one or other of those
already current is not as good or better than my own. This requires me
to pass in brief review the theories of historic methods, or, as it is
properly termed, of the Philosophy of History, which are most popular
to-day.
They may be classified under three leading opinions, as follows:
1. History should be an accurate record of events, and nothing more; an
exact and disinterested statement of what has taken place, concealing
nothing and coloring nothing, reciting incidents in their natural
connections, without bias, prejudice, or didactic application of any
kind.
This is certainly a high ideal and an excellent model. For many, yes,
for the majority of historical works, none better can be suggested. I
place it first and name it as worthiest of all current theories of
historical composition. But, I would submit to you, is a literary
production answering to this precept, really _History_? Is it anything
more than a well-prepared annal or chronicle? Is it, in fact anything
else than a compilation containing the materials of which real history
should be composed?
I consider that the mission of the historian, taken in its completest
sense, is something much more, much higher, than the collection and
narration of events, no matter how well this is done. The historian
should be like the man of science, and group his facts under inductive
systems so as to reach the general laws which connect and explain them.
He should, still further, be like the artist, and endeavor so to exhibit
these connections under literary forms that they present to the reader
the impression of a symmetrical and organic unity, in which each part or
event bears definite relations to all others. Collection and collation
are not enough. The historian must "work up his field notes," as the
geologists say, so as to extract from his data all the useful results
which they are capable of yielding.
I am quite certain that in these objections I can count on the suffrages
of most. For the majority of authors write history in a style widely
different from that which I have been describing. They are distinctly
teachers, though not at all in accord as to what they teach. They are
generally advocates, and with more or less openness maintain what I call
the second theory of the aim of history, to wit:
2. History should be a collection of evidence in favor of certain
opinions.
In this category are to be included all religious and political
histories. Their pages are intended to show the dealings of God with
man; or the evidences of Christianity, or of one of its sects,
| 46.190439 |
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Produced by Stephen Hutcheson
_Morning and Evening
Prayers
for All Days of the Week_
By
DR. JOHN HABERMANN.
Together With
_Confessional, Communion, and Other
Prayers and Hymns for Mornings
and Evenings, and
Other Occasions_
Done in English
By
EMIL H. RAUSCH.
_Editor Lutheran Herald_
Chicago, Illinois.
WARTBURG PUBLISHING HOUSE.
March, 1918, 3M.
September, 1918, 5M.
January, 1920, 5M.
Translator's Preface
This little manual of prayers herewith offered to English speaking
Christians in their own language, has long been one of the treasures of
the German people. With the exception of a few prayers, as hereinafter
noted, it was originally written by one of God's noblemen, by one who
"lived and moved and had his being" in the things of the Kingdom of God.
Dr. John Habermann (known also as Avenarius, Latinized form of Habermann)
died 1590 as superintendent at Zeitz, was a famous preacher and a
distinguished scholar of his day. He was noted for his profound knowledge
of oriental languages especially of the Hebrew. Still it is not this but
the fact of his little prayer book that has endeared him to his fellow
Christians. And this manual of prayers is the mature product of an inner
life rich in the grace of God. On every page it bears the stamp of one
for whom the communion with the eternal Father in heaven through the
faith in Jesus Christ, the Savior, is a blessed reality. Nothing more
natural therefore also than that he should "live and move and have his
being" in the language of the Word of God. And this is quite apparent in
his prayer language. God's Word give him the terms to express his
thoughts. Especially the Psalter, the prayer and hymn book of Israel,
proves a veritable thesaurus of prayer terms and of these he makes a
copious use.
The present little volume presents the Englished edition of "Wachet und
Betet," as issued by the Synod of Iowa and other States. Owing to the
exigencies of the times, with the great world war raging in all its fury,
a special set of prayers for times of war has been added by the
translator, in the hope that they will add to the usefulness of the book.
These are found on pages 131-138. The hymns as far as possible are given
in the form as found in the new Common Service Book with Hymnal. Many of
them however are new translations that here appear in print for the first
time. For these we are indebted especially to Prof. Alfred Ramsey of the
Lutheran Theological Seminary, Maywood, Chicago, and the Rev. H.
Brueckner of Iowa City, Iowa, a fact which is here gratefully
acknowledged.
The labor of clothing these little gems of prayer into the language of
the land has been done as a labor of love, albeit the stress of other
work often precluded the continued effort. The work was done a bit at a
time. This little volume is herewith issued with the fervent hope and
prayer, that it may long continue on its course of blessing, and lead
many lives into the closer communion with God, through Jesus Christ. Soli
Deo Gloria!
E. H. R.
Waverly, Iowa, during the blessed season of Epiphany, 1918.
EXHORTATION TO PRAYER
Arise, dear soul, and carefully reflect who He is with whom thou speakest
and before whom thou standest when thou prayest. Behold, thou speakest
with God, thy Maker, and standest in the presence of Him, the eternal
Majesty, whom thousand times thousand holy angels and arch-angels attend.
Therefore, O Christian, enter thou into the closet of thy soul, and
beware, lest thou failest to put from thee all sluggishness of heart, and
liftest up to thy God a countenance free from blame. Then wilt thou
delight in the Lord and have power with Him, and prevail. Yea, thou wilt
conquer the unconquerable God and bear away the blessing through Jesus
Christ. Amen.
The Lord's Prayer
_Our Father, who art in heaven; Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be | 46.230075 |
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Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
* * * * *
BIRDS.
ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.
VOL. III. MAY, 1898. NO. 5.
COLOR IN MUSIC.
"No ladder needs the bird, but skies
To situate its wings,
Nor any leader's grim baton
Arraigns it as it sings.
The implements of bliss are few--
As Jesus says of Him,
'Come unto me,' the moiety
That wafts the cherubim."
--EMILY DICKINSON.
OH, Music! voice inspired of all our joys and sorrows, of all our hopes and
disappointments, to thee we turn for life, for strength and peace. The
choristers of Nature--the birds--are our teachers. How free, how vital, how
unconstrained! The bird drops into song and delicious tones as easily as he
drops from the bough through the air to the twig or ground. To learn of the
bird has been found to be a truthful means whereby children's attention and
interest may be held long enough to absorb the sense of intervals in pitch,
notation on the staff, and rythms.
In teaching a child, it is obvious that the desire to learn must be kept
widely awake, and heretofore black notes on five lines and four spaces,
with heiroglyphics at the beginning to denote clef, and figures to indicate
the rhythm of the notes, have never interested children. But now, color and
the bird with its egg for a note, telegraph wires for the staff, and
swinging the pulsing rhythm instead of beating the time, has charmed
children into accomplishment of sight singing and sweet purity of tone.
Formerly, and by the old method, this was a long and laborious task, barely
tolerated by the musical child and disliked by the little soul unawakened
thereby to its own silent music.
It may be questioned, what is the new method, and what its value? The
method is this: In recognizing tone, the finer and more sensitive musician
has realized that certain intervals of scale suggested to their minds or
reminded them of certain colors. Thus the Doh, the opening and closing tone
of the scale, the foundation and cap stone, suggested Red, which is the
strong, firm color of colors, and on the ethical side suggested Love, which
is the beginning and end, the Alpha and Omega of Life. This firmness and
strength is easy to recognize in the tune "America," where the tonic Doh is
so insistent, and colors the whole melody. "The Star-Spangled Banner" and
"Hail Columbia" are other strong examples.
The Dominant or fifth tone in the scale is clear and pure, which the blue
of heaven represents, and so also the quality of aspiration or exaltation
is sounded. This is joyously clear in the Palestrina "Victory," set to the
Easter hymn, "The strife is o'er the battle done."
The Mediant or third of the scale is peaceful and calm, and the color
Yellow is suggested, with its vital, radiating, sunshiny warmth and
comfort. The "O, rest in the Lord" from "Elijah" exemplifies this quality
of restful and peaceful assurance. Of the tones of the Dominant chord
besides the Soh which we have considered, the Ti or seventh interval is
full of irresolution and unrest, crying for completion in the strong and
resolute Doh. This unrest and yearning suggest the mixed color Magenta. The
quality is expressed in bits of an old English song entitled "Too Late."
The insistency of the seventh is felt in the strong measures with the
words, "oh let us in, oh, let us in."
The Ray or second of the scale which completes the Dominant chord is
rousing and expectant--quite in contrast to the eagerness and dispair of
the seventh. This second is represented by orange, the mixture of red and
yellow between which it stands being equally related to both, with the
expectancy born of trust and rest which the Mediant expresses, and the
rousing hopefulness which is the outcome of the firm strength and
conviction of the Doh. As a musical example take Pleyel's hymn | 46.406559 |
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Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High School
OR
The Parting of the Ways
BY JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M.
Author of Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's
Sophomore Year at High School, Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High
School, etc.
[Illustration: "Who is that Girl?"]
CONTENTS
I. A Puzzling Resemblance
II. What the Day Brought Forth
III. What Happened in Room Forty-Seven
IV. Grace Turns in the Fire Alarm
V. Nora Becomes a Prize "Suggester"
VI. The Thanksgiving Bazaar
VII. A Thief in the Night | 46.626689 |
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
POPULAR NOVELS.
BY
_MRS. MARY J. HOLMES_.
TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.
ENGLISH ORPHANS.
HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE.
'LENA RIVERS.
MEADOW BROOK.
DORA DEANE.
COUSIN MAUDE.
MARIAN GREY.
EDITH LYLE.
DAISY THORNTON.
CHATEAU D'OR.
QUEENIE HETHERTON.
BESSIE'S FORTUNE.
DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.
HUGH WORTHINGTON.
CAMERON PRIDE.
ROSE MATHER.
ETHELYN'S MISTAKE.
MILBANK.
EDNA BROWNING.
WEST LAWN.
MILDRED.
FORREST HOUSE.
MADELINE.
CHRISTMAS STORIES.
GRETCHEN (_New_).
"Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her
books are always entertaining, and she has the rare faculty of
enlisting the sympathy and affections of her readers, and of holding
their attention to her pages with deep and absorbing interest."
G.W. DILLINGHAM, PUBLISHER,
SUCCESSOR TO
G.W. CARLETON & Co., New York.
GRETCHEN.
A Novel.
BY
MRS. MARY J. HOLMES,
AUTHOR OF
TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.--DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.--MILBANK.--ENGLISH
ORPHANS.--'LENA RIVERS.--ETHELYN'S MISTAKE.--HUGH
WORTHINGTON.--MADELINE.--WEST LAWN.--EDNA
BROWNING.--MARIAN GREY.--BESSIE'S
FORTUNE, ETC.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
_G.W. Dillingham, Publisher_,
SUCCESSOR TO G.W. CARLETON & CO.
LONDON: S. LOW, SON & CO.
MDCCCLXXXVII.
COPYRIGHT, 1887,
BY DANIEL HOLMES.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
STEREOTYPED BY
SAMUEL STODDER,
42 DEY STREET, N.Y.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Telegram 9
II. Arthur Tracy 12
III. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Tracy 19
IV. Getting Accustomed to It 24
V. At the Park 32
VI. The Cottage in the Lane 38
VII. The Party 45
VIII. Arthur 48
IX. Who is Gretchen? 60
X. Arthur Settles Himself 72
XI. The Storm 78
XII. The Tramp House 87
XIII. The Woman 94
XIV. Little Jerry 108
XV. Jerry at the Park 114
XVI. The Funeral, and After 122
XVII. "Mr. Crazyman, Do You Want Some Cherries?" 131
XVIII. Arthur and Jerry 139
XIX. Arthur's Plan 158
XX. The Working of Arthur's Plan 164
XXI. Mrs. Tracy's Diamonds 175
XXII. Searching For the Diamonds 184
XXIII. Arthur's Letter 198
XXIV. Ten Years Later 209
XXV. The Two Faces in the Mirror 216
XXVI. Maude's Letter 224
XXVII. "He Cometh Not," She Said 230
XXVIII. In Shannondale 237
XXIX. Why Harold Did Not Go to Vassar 249
XXX. The Walk Home 258
XXXI. At Home 264
XXXII. The Next Day 269
XXXIII. At the Park House 283
XXXIV. Under the Pines with Tom 287
XXXV. The Garden Party 293
XXXVI. Out in the Storm 301
XXXVII. Under the Pines with Dick 307
XXXVIII. At Le Bateau 312
XXXIX. Maude 326
XL. "Do You Know What You Have Done?" 336
XLI. What Jerrie Found under the Floor 341
XLII. Harold and the Diamonds 352
XLIII. Harold and Jerrie 366
XLIV. Jerrie Clears Harold 372
XLV. What Followed 379
XLVI. The Letters 382
XLVII. Arthur 389
XLVIII. What They were Doing and had Done in Shannondale 393
XLIX. Telling Arthur 404
L. The Flower Fadeth 416
LI. Under the Pines with Harold 422
LII. "For Better, For Worse." 427
LIII. After Two Years 441
GRETCHEN.
CHAPTER I.
THE TELEGRAM.
"BREVOORT HOUSE, NEW YORK, Oct. 6th, 18--.
"To Mr. Frank Tracy, of Tracy Park, Shannondale.
"I arrived in the Scotia this morning, and shall take the train for
Shannondale at 3 P.M. Send some one to the station to meet us.
"ARTHUR TRACY."
This was the telegram which the clerk in the Shannondale office received
one October morning, and dispatched to the Hon. Frank Tracy, of Tracy
Park, in the quiet town of Shannondale, where our story opens.
Mr. Frank Tracy, who, since his election to the State Legislature for
two successive terms, had done nothing except to attend political
meetings and make speeches on all public occasions, had an office in
town, where he usually spent his mornings, smoking, reading the papers,
and talking to Mr. Colvin, his business agent and lawyer, for, though
born in one of the humblest New England houses, where the slanting roof
almost touched the ground in the rear, and he could scarcely stand
upright in the chamber where he slept, Mr. Frank Tracy was a man of
leisure now, and as he dashed along the turnpike in his handsome
carriage, with his driver beside him, people looked admiringly after
him, and pointed him out to strangers as the Hon. Mr. Tracy, of Tracy
Park, one of the finest places in the county. It is true it did not
belong to him, but he had lived there so long that he looked upon it as
his, while his neighbors, too, seemed to have forgotten that there was a
Mr. Arthur Tracy, who might at any time come home to claim his own and
demand an account of his brother's stewardship. And it was this Arthur
Tracy, whose telegram announcing his return from Europe was read by his
brother with feelings of surprise and consternation.
"Not that everything isn't fair and above board, and he is welcome to
look into matters as much as he likes," Frank said to himself, as he sat
staring at the telegram, while the cold chills ran up and down his back
and arms. "Yes, he can examine all Colvin's books; he will find them
straight as a string, and didn't he tell me to take what I thought right
as remuneration for looking after his property while he was gallivanting
over the world; and if he objects that I have taken too much, I can at
once transfer those investments in my name to him. No, it is not that
which affects me so; it is the suddenness of the thing, coming without
warning, and to night of all nights, when the house will be full of
carousing and champagne. What will Dolly say? Hysterics, of course, if
not a sick headache. I don't believe I can face her till she has had a
little time to brace up. Here, boy, I want you!" and he rapped on the
window at a young lad who happened to be passing with a basket on his
arm. "I want you to do an errand for me," he continued, as the boy
entered the office and, removing his cap, stood respectfully before him.
"Take this telegram to Mrs. Tracy, and here is a dime for you."
"Thank you; but I don't care for the money," the boy said. "I was going
to the park anyway to tell Mrs. Tracy that grandma is sick and can't go
there to-night."
"Sick! What is the matter?" Mr. Tracy asked, in dismay, feeling that
here was a fresh cause of trouble and worry for his wife.
"She catched cold yesterday fixing up mother's grave," the boy replied;
and, as if the mention of that grave had sent Mr. Tracy's thoughts
straying backward to the past, he looked thoughtfully at the child for a
moment, and then said:
"How old are you, Harold?"
"Ten, last August," was the reply; and Mr. Tracy continued:
"You do not remember your mother?"
"No, sir; only a great crowd, and grandma crying so hard," was Harold's
reply.
"You look like her," Mr. Tracy said.
"Yes, sir," Harold answered; while into his frank, open face there came
an expression of regret for the mother who had died when he was three
years old, and whose life had been so short and sad.
"Now, hurry off with the telegram, and mind you don't lose it. It is
from my brother. He is coming to night."
"Mr. Arthur Tracy, who sent the monument for my mother--is he coming
home? Oh, I am so glad!" Harold exclaimed, his face lighting up with
joy, as he put the telegram in his pocket and started for Tracy Park,
wondering if he should encounter Tom, and thinking that if he did, and
Tom gave him any chaff, he should thresh him, or try to.
"Darn him!" he said to himself, as he recalled the many times when Tom
Tracy, a boy about his own age, had laughed at him for his poverty and
coarse clothes. "He ain't any better than I am, if he does wear velvet
trousers and live in a big house. 'Tain't his'n; it's Mr. Arthur's, and
I'm glad he is coming home. I wonder if he will bring grandma anything.
I wish he'd bring me a pyramid. He's seen 'em, they say."
Meantime, Mr. Frank Tracy had resumed his seat, and, with his hands
clasped over his head, was wondering what effect his brother's return
would have upon him. Would he be obliged to leave the park, and the
luxury he had enjoyed so long, and go back to the old life which he
hated so much?
"No; Arthur will never be so mean," he said. "He has always shown
himself generous, and will continue to do so. Besides that, he will want
somebody to keep the house for him, unless----" And here the
perspiration started from every pore as Frank Tracy thought: "What if he
is married, and the _us_ in his telegram means a wife, instead of a
friend or servant as I imagined!"
That would indeed be a calamity, for then his reign was over at Tracy
Park, and the party he and his wife were to give that night to at least
three hundred people would be their last.
"Confound the party!" he thought, as he arose from his chair and began
to pace the room. "Arthur won't like that as a greeting after eleven
years' absence. He never fancied being cheek by jowl with Tom, Dick, and
Harry; and that is just what the smash is to night. Dolly wants to
please everybody, thinking to get me votes for Congress, and so she has
invited all creation and his wife. There's old Peterkin, the roughest
kind of a canal <DW15> when Arthur went away. Think of my fastidious
brother shaking hands with him and Widow Shipley, who kept a low tavern
on the tow path! She'll be there, in her silks and long gold chain, for
she has four boys, all voters, who call me _Frank_ and slap me on the
shoulder. Ugh! even I hate it all;" and, in a most perturbed state of
mind, the would be Congressman continued to walk the room, lamenting the
party, and wondering what his aristocratic brother would say to such a
crowd in his house on the night of his return.
And if there should be a Mrs. Arthur Tracy, with possibly some little
Tracys! But that idea was too horrible to contemplate, and he tried to
put it from his mind, and to be as calm and quiet as possible until
lunch time, when, with no very great amount of alacrity and
cheerfulness, he started for home.
CHAPTER II.
ARTHUR TRACY.
Although it was a morning in October, the grass in the park was as green
as in early June, while the flowers in the beds and borders, the
geraniums, the phlox, the stocks, and verbenas, were handsomer, if
possible, than they had been in the summer-time; for the rain, which had
fallen almost continually during the month of September, had kept them
fresh and bright. Here and there the scarlet and golden tints of autumn
were beginning to show on the trees; but this only added a new charm to
a place which was noted for its beauty, and was the pride and admiration
of the town.
And yet Mrs. Frank Tracy, who stood on the wide piazza, looking after a
carriage which was moving down the avenue which lead through the park to
the highway, did not seem as happy as the mistress of that house ought
to have been, standing there in the clear, crisp morning, with a silken
wrapper trailing behind her, a coquettish French cap on her head, and
costly jewels on her short, fat hands, which once were not as white and
soft as they were now. For Mrs. Frank Tracy, as Dorothy Smith, had known
what hard labor and poverty meant, and slights, too, because of the
poverty and labor. Her mother was a widow, sickly and lame, and Dorothy
in her girlhood had worked in the cotton mills at Langley, and bound
shoes for the firm of Newell & Brothers, and rebelled at the fate which
had made her so poor and seemed likely to keep her so.
But there was something better in store for her than binding shoes, or
working in the mills, and from the time when young Frank Tracy came to
Langley as clerk in the Newell firm, Dorothy's life was changed and her
star began to rise. They both sang in the choir, standing side by side,
and sometimes using the same book, and once their hands met as both
tried to turn the leaves together. Dorothy's were red and rough, and not
nearly as delicate as those of Frank, who had been in a store all his
life; and still there was a magnetism in their touch which sent a thrill
through the young man's veins, and made him for the first time look
critically at his companion.
She was very pretty, he thought, with bright black eyes, a healthful
bloom, and a smile and blush which went straight to his heart, and made
him her slave at once. In three months' time they were married and
commenced housekeeping in a very unostentatious way, for Frank had
nothing but his salary to depend upon. But he was well connected, and
boasted some blue blood, which, in Dorothy's estimation, made amends for
lack of money. The Tracys of Boston were his distant relatives, and he
had a rich bachelor uncle, who spent his winters in New Orleans and his
summers at Tracy Park, on which he had lavished fabulous sums of money.
From this uncle Frank had expectations, though naturally the greater
part of his fortune would go to his godson and namesake, Arthur Tracy,
who was Frank's elder brother, and as unlike him as one brother could
well be unlike another.
Arthur was scholarly in his tastes, and quiet and gentlemanly in his
manners, and, though subject to moods and fits of abstraction and
forgetfulness, which won for him the reputation of being a "little
queer," he was exceedingly popular with everyone. Frank was very proud
of his brother, and with Dorothy felt that he was honored when, six
months after their marriage, he came for a day or so to visit them, and
with him his intimate friend, Harold Hastings, an Englishman by birth,
but so thoroughly Americanized as to pass unchallenged for a native.
There was a band of crape on Arthur's hat, and his manner was like one
trying to be sorry, while conscious of an inward feeling of resignation,
if not content. The rich uncle had died suddenly, and the whole of his
vast fortune was left to his nephew Arthur--not a farthing to Frank, not
even the mention of his name in the will; and when Dorothy heard it, she
put her white apron over her face, and cried as if her heart would
break. They were so poor, she and Frank, and they wanted so many things,
and the man who could have helped them was dead, and had left them
nothing. It was hard, and she might not have made the young heir very
welcome if he had not assured her that he should do something for her
husband. And he kept his word, and bought out a grocery in Langley and
put Frank in it, and paid the mortgage on his house, and gave him a
thousand dollars, and invited Dolly to visit him; and then it would seem
as if he forgot them entirely, for with his friend Harold, he settled
himself at Tracy Park, and played the role of the grand gentleman to
perfection.
Few ladies ever called at the house, for, with two or three exceptions,
Arthur held himself aloof from the people of Shannondale. It was said,
however, that sometimes, when he and his friend were alone, there was
the sound of music in the parlor, | 46.678144 |
2023-11-16 18:16:33.8903150 | 197 | 217 | ***The Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio***
*******************A Midsommer Nights Dreame********************
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A Midsommer Nights Dreame
by William Shakespeare
July, 200 | 47.209725 |
2023-11-16 18:16:34.1405300 | 1,378 | 407 |
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan
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The
Rival Campers Afloat
Or, THE PRIZE YACHT VIKING
By
Ruel Perley Smith
Author of "The Rival Campers"
ILLUSTRATED BY
LOUIS D. GOWING
BOSTON
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
1906
_Copyright_, _1906_
By L. C. Page & Company
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
First Impression, August, 1906
_COLONIAL PRESS
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston. U. S. A._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Down the River 1
II. The Collision 15
III. A Rescue Unrewarded 28
IV. Squire Brackett Discomfited 39
V. Harvey Gets Bad News 56
VI. Out to the Fishing-grounds 73
VII. Near the Reefs 91
VIII. Little Tim a Strategist 108
IX. Harry Brackett Plays a Joke 126
X. Mr. Carleton Arrives 143
XI. Squire Brackett Is Puzzled 160
XII. The Surprise Sets Sail Again 180
XIII. Stormy Weather 192
XIV. The Man in the Cabin 206
XV. Mr. Carleton Goes Away 224
XVI. Searching the Viking 239
XVII. A Rainy Night 259
XVIII. Two Secrets Discovered 278
XIX. The Loss of the Viking 298
XX. Fleeing in the Night 318
XXI. A Timely Arrival 336
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
The Crew of the Viking Meet Skipper Martel (_Frontispiece_) 98
"The boom brought up with a smashing blow against the Viking's
starboard quarter" 25
"'Nonsense,' roared the infuriated Squire. 'He can sail a boat as
good as you can'" 54
"'Here, that's our boat,' cried Joe. 'You've got no right to
touch it'" 112
"'Just tell them that you heard me say I was going back to
Boston'" 236
"'Get out of here,' exclaimed Mr. Carleton, sharply" 335
THE RIVAL CAMPERS
AFLOAT
CHAPTER I.
DOWN THE RIVER
It was a pleasant afternoon in the early part of the month of June. The
Samoset River, winding down prettily through hills and sloping farm lands
to the bay of the same name, gleamed in the sunlight, now with a polished
surface like ebony in some sheltered inlet, or again sparkling with
innumerable points of light where its surface was whipped up into tiny
waves by a brisk moving wind.
There had been rain for a few days before, and the weather was now
clearing, with a smart westerly breeze that had come up in the morning,
but was swinging in slightly to the southward. The great white
cloud-banks had mostly passed on, and these were succeeded at present by
swiftly moving clumps of smaller and lighter clouds, that drifted easily
across the sky, like the sails below them over the surface of the water.
There were not a few of these sails upon the river, some set to the
breeze and some furled; some of the craft going up with the tide toward
the distant city of Benton, the head of vessel navigation; some breasting
the tide and working their way down toward Samoset Bay; other and larger
craft, with sails snugly furled, tagging along sluggishly at the heels of
blustering little tugs,--each evidently much impressed with the
importance of its mission,--and so going on and out to the open sea,
where they would sail down the coast with their own great wings spread.
The river was, indeed, a picture of life and animation. It was a river
with work to do, but it did it cheerfully and with a good spirit. Far up
above the city of Benton, it had brought the great log rafts down through
miles of forest and farm land. Above and below the city, for miles, it
had run bravely through sluice and mill-race, and turned the great wheels
for the mills that sawed the forest stuff into lumber. And now, freed
from all bounds and the restraint of dams and sluiceways, and no longer
choked with its burden of logs, it was pleased to float the ships, loaded
deep with the sawed lumber, down and away to other cities.
There was many a craft going down the river that afternoon. Here and
there along the way was a big three or four masted schooner, loaded with
ice or lumber, and bound for Baltimore or Savannah. Or, it might be, one
would take notice of a trim Italian bark, carrying box-shooks, to be
converted later into boxes for lemons and oranges. Then, farther
southward, a schooner that had brought its catch to the Benton market,
and was now working out again to the fishing-grounds among the islands of
the bay.
Less frequently plied the river steamers that ran to and from the summer
resorts in Samoset Bay; or, once a day, coming or going, the larger
steamers that ran between Benton and Boston.
Amid all these, at a point some twenty miles down the river from Benton,
there sailed a craft that was, clearly, not of this busy, hard-working
fraternity of ships. It was a handsome little vessel, of nearly forty
feet length, very shapely of hull and shining of spars; with a glint of
brass-work here and there; its clean, white sides presenting a polished
surface to the sunbeams; its rigging new and well set up, and a handsome
new pennant | 47.45994 |
2023-11-16 18:16:34.4146520 | 1,214 | 421 |
Produced by Mary Glenn Krause, Roger Frank and the Online
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file was produced from images generously made available
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_Jacquette, A Sorority Girl_
[Illustration: _Little by little the story of the evening came out_]
Jacquette
_A Sorority Girl_
BY
_GRACE ETHELWYN CODY_
ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES JOHNSON POST
[Illustration: FIDE ET LITERIS]
NEW YORK
_DUFFIELD & COMPANY_
1908
COPYRIGHT, 1908
BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY
_Published 1908_
THE PREMIER PRESS
NEW YORK
_To
My Mother_
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. JACQUETTE 1
II. MADEMOISELLE 25
III. TIA 44
IV. BOBS 68
V. THE GAME 87
VI. THE MASS-MEETING 109
VII. THE “FOOL-KILLER” 128
VIII. FEBRUARY RUSHING 148
IX. JACQUETTE’S REBELLION 170
X. COMMENCEMENT 189
XI. COMPROMISE 208
XII. THE REAL QUEEN 230
XIII. CHRISTMAS 263
_Jacquette, A Sorority Girl_
CHAPTER I
JACQUETTE
It was nine o’clock in the evening when a heavy train rolled into the
Union Station of a great western city. Among the passengers to alight
was a fair-haired girl who glanced timidly about the big, cavernous
station before falling in with the procession of travellers that had
begun to move toward the waiting-room. Suddenly, one face shone clearly
from among the indiscriminate mass of faces outside the iron gates, and
she gave a glad little cry, as a tall boy stepped forward, caught her
suitcase from her, and grasped her hand.
“Jacquette, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, his dark eyes shining with
welcome. “I’d know you anywhere from your pictures.”
“But I shouldn’t know you!” she answered. “I’d no idea you were so big
and--and grand!” she finished, roguishly.
“As for that, I am rather grand, to-night,” he laughed, stealing
admiring glances at her as he led the way through the crowded station
to the street. “I’m down here in the governor’s new auto to meet a
long-lost country cousin, and I find a fairy princess, instead. What
more could a fellow ask?”
“Not an automobile! Truly? I’ve never been in one, yet.”
“Oh, well, you’ll do a lot of things in Channing that you never did in
Brookdale. Here’s the machine. Just step in and be comfortable while I
look after your baggage.”
He gave an order to the respectful chauffeur and disappeared into the
station, while Jacquette Willard looked after him, feeling that she had
suddenly entered a new world. She sat up very straight, brushing a bit
of lint from the jacket of her wine-coloured travelling-gown, and, more
than once, she patted the sunny mist of hair about her face, and put
both hands to the jaunty hat, to make sure that it was poised exactly
as it should be. In a few minutes her tall cousin came back and seated
himself beside her, and then they went spinning along the brilliantly
lighted streets toward her uncle’s home.
“It seems like a fairy story to me, Quis,” she said, looking up at him
with a shy smile.
“Didn’t I tell you you were the princess?” Marquis answered gaily. “Do
you know?--there’s a pink rose in our conservatory that looks just
like you, only it lacks the eyes--poor rose! Your pictures showed your
hair was curly, but they didn’t tell the gold colour of it, and those
stunning braids didn’t show, either. Wonder if the girls will make you
put up your hair?”
“What girls?”
“Oh, the bunch I’ll show you, to-morrow morning. Nicest girls in
Marston High.”
“High school, do you mean?”
“Yes; we never stop to put on the school, though. Everybody knows
Marston. It’s famous all through the west for its football team. I’m
mighty glad you came while I’m a senior here, instead of waiting
till next year when I’ll be off at college. I can give you no end of
pointers. By the way, I liked it just now, when you said ‘Quis.’ I
suppose you know about your mother and my father getting our Frenchy
sounding names out of the same old novel? Funny, wasn’t it? I have to
answer to ‘Markee’ about half the time. The fellows do it to guy me. I
wonder what you’d think if I should call you ‘Jack’?”
“I’d like it,” she agreed, promptly. “I never had a nickname.”
“All right, that’s settled. Don’t you think it’s queer we feel so well
acquainted, just from the letters we’ve written? Do you realise that
it’s twelve years since I even saw you? We lived abroad ten whole
years, you know. Mother was saying, last night | 47.734062 |
2023-11-16 18:16:34.6058920 | 1,016 | 375 |
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by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration]
[Illustration: لا لابرار كلّ شي تبر]
"TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE."
(Puris omnia pura)
—_Arab Proverb._
"Niuna corrotta mente intese mai sanamente parole."
—"_Decameron_"—_conclusion_.
"Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum
Sed coram Bruto. Brute! recede, leget."
—_Martial._
"Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre,
Pour ce que rire est le propre des hommes."
—RABELAIS.
"The pleasure we derive from perusing the Thousand-and-One Stories makes
us regret that we possess only a comparatively small part of these truly
enchanting fictions."
—CRICHTON'S "_History of Arabia_."
[Illustration]
_A PLAIN AND LITERAL TRANSLATION OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS.
NOW ENTITULED_
_THE BOOK OF THE_
=Thousand Nights and a Night=
_WITH INTRODUCTION EXPLANATORY NOTES ON THE
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF MOSLEM MEN AND A
TERMINAL ESSAY UPON THE HISTORY OF THE
NIGHTS_
VOLUME III.
BY
RICHARD F. BURTON
[Illustration]
PRINTED BY THE BURTON CLUB FOR PRIVATE SUBSCRIBERS ONLY
Shammar Edition
Limited to one thousand numbered sets, of which this is
Number _547_
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
Inscribed to the Memory
OF
A FRIEND
WHO
DURING A FRIENDSHIP OF TWENTY-SIX YEARS
EVER SHOWED ME THE MOST
UNWEARIED KINDNESS
Richard Monckton Milnes
Baron Houghton.
CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
PAGE
CONTINUATION OF THE TALE OF KING OMAR BIN AL-NU'UMAN AND HIS
SONS SHARRKAN AND ZAU AL-MAKAN.
_aa._ CONTINUATION OF THE TALE OF AZIZ AND AZIZAH 1
_ab._ CONCLUSION OF THE TALE OF KING OMAR BIN 48
AL-NU'UMAN AND HIS SONS SHARRKAN AND ZAU
AL-MAKAN
_b._ TALE OF THE HASHISH-EATER 91
_c._ TALE OF HAMMAD THE BADAWI 104
1. THE BIRDS AND BEASTS AND THE CARPENTER 114
(_Lane, II. 52-59. The Fable of the Peacock and Peahen, the Duck, the
Young Lion, the Ass, the Horse, the Camel, and the Carpenter, etc._)
2. THE HERMITS 125
3. THE WATER-FOWL AND THE TORTOISE 129
4. THE WOLF AND THE FOX 132
(_Lane, II. 59-69. The Fable of the Fox and the Wolf._)
_a._ TALE OF THE FALCON AND THE PARTRIDGE 138
5. THE MOUSE AND THE ICHNEUMON 147
6. THE CAT AND THE CROW 149
7. THE FOX AND THE CROW 150
_a._ THE FLEA AND THE MOUSE 151
_b._ THE SAKER AND THE BIRDS 154
_c._ THE SPARROW AND THE EAGLE 155
8. THE HEDGEHOG AND THE WOOD PIGEONS 156
_a._ THE MERCHANT AND THE TWO SHARPERS 158
9. THE THIEF AND HIS MONKEY 159
THE FOOLISH WEAVER _ib._
10. THE SPARROW AND THE PEACOCK 161
11. ALI BIN BAKKAR AND SHAMS AL-NAHAR 162
(_Lane, Vol. II., Chapt. ix. Story of Alee the Son of Bakkar, and
Shams en-Nahár, p. 1._)
12. TALE OF K | 47.925302 |
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HOW TO READ
HUMAN NATURE:
ITS INNER STATES AND
OUTER FORMS
By WILLIAM WALKER ATKINSON
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
L. N. FOWLER & CO.
7, Imperial Arcade, Ludgate Circus
London, E. C., England
1916
THE ELIZABETH TOWNE CO.
HOLYOKE, MASS.
COPYRIGHT 1913
BY
ELIZABETH TOWNE
HOW TO READ
HUMAN NATURE
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I. Inner State and Outer Form 9
II. The Inner Phase: Character 29
III. The Outer Form: Personality 38
IV. The Temperaments 47
V. The Mental Qualities 68
VI. The Egoistic Qualities 76
VII. The Motive Qualities 81
VIII. The Vitative Qualities 89
IX. The Emotive Qualities 93
X. The Applicative Qualities 100
XI. The Modificative Qualities 107
XII. The Relative Qualities 114
XIII. The Perceptive Qualities 122
XIV. The Reflective Qualities 139
XV. The Religio-Moral Qualities 148
XVI. Faces 156
XVII. Chins and Mouths 169
XVIII. Eyes, Ears, and Noses 177
XIX. Miscellaneous Signs 186
CHAPTER I
INNER STATE AND OUTER FORM
"Human Nature" is a term most frequently used and yet but little
understood. The average person knows in a general way what he and others
mean when this term is employed, but very few are able to give an
off-hand definition of the term or to state what in their opinion
constitutes the real essence of the thought expressed by the familiar
phrase. We are of the opinion that the first step in the process of
correct understanding of any subject is that of acquaintance with its
principal terms, and, so, we shall begin our consideration of the
subject of Human Nature by an examination of the term used to express
the idea itself.
"Human," of course, means "of or pertaining to man or mankind."
Therefore, Human Nature means the _nature_ of man or mankind. "Nature,"
in this usage, means: "The natural disposition of mind of any person;
temper; personal character; individual constitution; the peculiar
mental characteristics and attributes which serve to distinguish one
person from another."
Thus we see that the essence of the _nature_ of men, or of a particular
human being, is the _mind_, the mental qualities, characteristics,
properties and attributes. Human Nature is then a phase of psychology
and subject to the laws, principles and methods of study, examination
and consideration of that particular branch of science.
But while the general subject of psychology includes the consideration
of the inner workings of the mind, the processes of thought, the nature
of feeling, and the operation of the will, the special subject of Human
Nature is concerned only with the question of character, disposition,
temperament, personal attributes, etc., of the individuals making up the
race of man. Psychology is general--Human Nature is particular.
Psychology is more or less abstract--Human Nature is concrete.
Psychology deals with laws, causes and principles--Human Nature deals
with effects, manifestations, and expressions.
Human Nature expresses itself in two general phases, i.e., (1) the
phase of Inner States; and (2) the phase of Outer Forms. These two
phases, however, are not separate or opposed to each other, but are
complementary aspects of the same thing. There is always an action and
reaction between the Inner State and the Outer Form--between the Inner
Feeling and the Outer Expression. If we know the particular Inner State
we may infer the appropriate Outer Form; and if we know the Outer Form
we may infer the Inner State.
That the Inner State affects the Outer Form is a fact generally
acknowledged by men, for it is in strict accordance with the general
experience of the race. We know that certain mental states will result
in imparting to the countenance certain lines and expressions
appropriate thereto; certain peculiarities of carriage and manner, voice
and demeanor. The facial characteristics, manner, walk, voice and
gestures of the miser will be recognized as entirely different from that
of the generous person; those of the coward differ materially from those
of the brave man; those of the vain are distinguished from those of the
modest. We know that certain mental attitudes will produce the
corresponding physical expressions of a smile, a frown, an open hand, a
clenched fist, an erect spine or bowed shoulders, respectively. We also
know that certain feelings will cause the eye to sparkle or grow dim,
the voice to become resonant and positive or to become husky and weak;
according to the nature of the feelings.
Prof. Wm. James says: "What kind of emotion of fear would be left if the
feeling neither of trembling lips nor of weakened limbs, neither of
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IN THE WILDERNESS
By Robert Hichens
BOOK I--HERMES AND THE CHILD
CHAPTER I
Amedeo Dorini, the hall porter of the Hotel Cavour in Milan, stood on
the pavement before the hotel one autumn afternoon in the year 1894,
waiting for the omnibus, which had gone to the station, and which was
now due to return, bearing--Amedeo hoped--a load of generously inclined
travelers. During the years of his not unpleasant servitude Amedeo had
become a student of human nature. He had learnt to judge shrewdly and
soundly, to sum up quickly, to deliver verdicts which were not unjust.
And now, as he saw the omnibus, with its two fat brown horses, coming
slowly along by the cab rank, and turning into the Piazza that is
presided over by Cavour's statue, he prepared almost mechanically to
measure and weigh evidence, to criticize and come to a conclusion.
He glanced first at the roof of the omnibus to take stock of the luggage
pile there. There was plenty of it, and a good deal of it was leather
and reassuring. Amedeo had a horror of tin trunks--they usually gave
such small tips. Having examined the luggage he sent a searching glance
to two rows of heads which were visible inside the vehicle. The brawny
porters hurried out, the luggage chute was placed in position, the
omnibus door was opened, and the first traveler stepped forth.
A German of the most economical type, large, red and wary, with a mouth
like a buttoned-up pocket, was followed by a broad-waisted wife, with
dragged hair and a looped-up gown. Amedeo's smile tightened. A Frenchman
followed them, pale and elaborate, a "one-nighter," as Amedeo instantly
decided in his mind. Such Frenchmen are seldom extravagant in hotels.
This gentleman would want a good room for a small price, would be
extremely critical about the cooking, and have a wandering eye and a
short memory for all servants in the morning.
An elderly Englishwoman was the fourth personage to appear. She was
badly dressed in black, wore a tam-o'-shanter with a huge black-headed
pin thrust through it, clung to a bag, smiled with amiable patronage as
she emerged, and at once, without reason, began to address Amedeo and
the porters in fluent, incorrect, and too carefully pronounced Italian.
Amedeo knew her--the Tabby who haunts Swiss and Italian hotels, the
eternal Tabby drastically complete.
A gay Italian is gaiety in flight, a human lark with a song. But a
gloomy Italian is oppressive and almost terrible. Despite the training
of years Amedeo's smile flickered and died out. A ferocious expression
surged up in his dark eyes as he turned rather bruskly to scrutinize
without hope the few remaining clients. But suddenly his face cleared as
he heard a buoyant voice say in English:
"I'll get out first, Godfather, and give you a hand."
On the last word, a tall and lithe figure stepped swiftly, and with a
sort of athletic certainty, out of the omnibus, turned at once towards
it, and, with a movement eloquent of affection and almost tender
reverence, stretched forth an arm and open hand.
A spare man of middle height, elderly, with thick gray hair, and a
clean-shaven, much-lined face, wearing a large loose overcoat and soft
brown hat, took the hand as he emerged. He did not need it; Amedeo
realized that, realized also that he was glad to take it, enjoyed
receiving this kind and unnecessary help.
"And now for Beatrice!" he said.
And he gave in his turn a hand to the girl who followed him.
There were still two people in the omnibus, the elderly man's Italian
valet and an Englishman. As the latter got out, and stretched his limbs
cramped with much sitting, he saw Amedeo, with genuine smiles, escorting
the two girls and the elderly man towards the glass-roofed hall, on the
left of which was the lift. The figure of the girl who had stepped out
first was about to disappear. As the Englishman looked she vanished.
But he had time to realize that a gait, the carriage of a head and its
movement in turning, can produce on an observer a moral effect. A joyous
sanity came to him from this unknown girl and made him feel joyously
sane. It seemed to sweep over him, like a cool and fresh breeze of the
sea falling through pine woods, to lift from him some of the dust of
his journey. He resolved to give the remainder of the dust to the public
garden, told his name, Dion Leith, to the manager, learnt that the room
he had ordered was ready for him, had his luggage sent up to it, and
then made his way to the trees on the far side of the broad road which
skirts the hotel. When he was among them he took off his hat, kept it
in his hand, and, so, strolled on down the almost deserted paths. As
he walked he tasted the autumn, not with any sadness, but with an
appreciation that was almost voluptuous. He was at a time of life and
experience, when, if the body is healthy, the soul is untroubled by
care, each season of the year holds its thrill for the strongly beating
heart, its tonic gift for the mind. Falling leaves were handfuls of gold
for this man. The faint chill in the air as evening drew on turned his
thoughts to the brightness and warmth of English fires burning on the
hearths of houses that sheltered dear and protected lives. The far-off
voices of calling children, coming to him from hidden places among the
trees, did not make him pensive because of their contrast with things
that were dying. He hailed them as voices of the youth which lasts in
the world, though the world may seem to be old to those who are old.
Dion Leith had a powerful grip on life and good things. He was young,
just twenty-six, strong and healthy, though slim-built in body,
alert and vigorous in mind, unperturbed in soul, buoyant and warmly
imaginative. Just at that moment the joy of life was almost at full
flood in him, for he had recently been reveling in a new and glorious
experience, and now carried it with him, a precious memory.
He had been traveling, and his wanderings had given him glimpses of two
worlds. In one of these worlds he had looked into the depths, had felt
as if he realized fully for the first time the violence of the angry and
ugly passions that deform life; in the other he had scaled the heights,
had tasted the still purity, the freshness, the exquisite calm, which
are also to be found in life.
He had visited Constantinople and had sailed from it to Greece. From
Greece he had taken ship to Brindisi, and was now on his way home to
England.
What he had thought at the time to be an ill chance had sent him on his
way alone. Guy Daventry, his great friend, who was to go with him, had
been seized by an illness. It was too late then to find another man
free. So, reluctantly, and inclined to grumble a little at fate, Dion
had set off in solitude.
He knew now that his solitude had given him keen sensations, which
he could scarcely have felt with the best of friends. Never, in any
company, had he been so repelled, enticed, disgusted, deeply enchanted,
as on these lonely wanderings which were now a part of his life.
How he had hated Constantinople, and how he had loved Greece! His
expectation had been betrayed by the event. He had not known himself
when he left England, or the part of himself which he had known had been
the lesser part, and he had taken it for the greater. For he had set out
on his journey with his hopes mainly fixed on Constantinople. Its road
of wildness and tumult, its barbaric glitter, its crude mixture of
races, even its passions and crimes--a legend in history, a solid fact
of to-day--had allured his mind. The art of Greece had beckoned to him;
its ancient shrines had had their strong summons for his brain; but
he had scarcely expected to love the country. He had imagined it as
certainly beautiful but with an austere and desolate beauty that would
be, perhaps, almost repellent to his nature. He had conceived of it as
probably sad in its naked calm, a country weary with the weight of a
glorious past.
But he had been deceived, and he was glad of that. Because he had been
able to love Greece so much he felt a greater confidence in himself.
Without any ugly pride he said to himself: "Perhaps my nature is a
little bit better, a little bit purer than I had supposed."
As the breeze in the public garden touched his bare head, slightly
lifting his thick dark hair, he remembered the winds of Greece; he
remembered his secret name for Greece, "the land of the early morning."
It was good to be able to delight in the early morning--pure, delicate,
marvelously fresh.
He at down on a bench under a chestnut tree. The children's voices had
died away. Silence seemed to be drawing near to the garden. He saw a
few moving figures in the shadows, but at a distance, fading towards the
city.
The line of the figure, the poise of the head of that girl with whom he
had driven from the station, came before Dion's eyes.
CHAPTER II
One winter day in 1895--it was a Sunday--when fog lay thickly over
London, Rosamund Everard sat alone in a house in Great Cumberland Place,
reading Dante's "Paradiso." Her sister, Beatrice, a pale, delicate
and sensitive shadow who adored her, and her guardian, Bruce Evelin, a
well-known Q.C. now retired from practice, had gone into the country to
visit some friends. Rosamund had also been invited, and much wanted, for
there was a party in the house, and her gaiety, her beauty, and her fine
singing made her a desirable guest; but she had "got out of it." On this
particular Sunday she specially wished to be in London. At a church not
far from Great Cumberland Place--St. Mary's, Welby Street--a man was
going to preach that evening whom she very much wanted to hear. Her
guardian's friend, Canon Wilton, had spoken to her about him, and had
said to her once, "I should particularly like _you_ to hear him." And
somehow the simple words had impressed themselves upon her. So, when
she heard that Mr. Robertson was coming from his church in Liverpool to
preach at St. Mary's, she gave up the country visit to hear him.
Beatrice and Bruce Evelin had no scruples in leaving her alone for a
couple of days. They knew that she, who had such an exceptional faculty
for getting on with all sorts and conditions of men and women, and
who always shed sunshine around her, had within her a great love of,
sometimes almost a thirst for, solitude.
"I need to be alone now and then," they had heard her say; "it's like
drinking water to me."
Sitting quietly by the fire with her delightful edition of Dante, her
left hand under her head, her tall figure stretched out in a low chair,
Rosamund heard a bell ring below. It called her from the "Paradiso." She
sprang up, remembering that she had given the butler no orders about not
wishing to be disturbed. At lunch-time the fog had been so dense that
she had not thought about possible visitors; she hurried to the head of
the staircase.
"Lurby! Lurby! I'm not at--"
It was too late. The butler must have been in the hall. She heard the
street door open and a man's voice murmuring something. Then the door
shut and she heard steps. She retreated into the drawing-room, pulling
down her brows and shaking her head. No more "Paradiso," and she loved
it so! A moment before she had been far away.
The book was lying open on the arm-chair in which she had been sitting.
She went to close it and put it on a table. For an instant she looked
down on the page, and immediately her dream returned. Then Lurby's dry,
soft voice said behind her:
"Mr. Leith, ma'am."
"Oh!" She turned, leaving the book.
Directly she looked at Dion Leith she knew why he had come.
"I'm all alone," Rosamund said. "I stayed here, instead of going to
Sherrington with Beattie and my guardian, because I wanted to hear a
sermon this evening. Come and sit down by the fire."
"What church are you going to?"
"St. Mary's, Welby Street."
"Shall I go with you?"
Rosamund had taken up the "Paradiso" and was shutting it.
"I think I'll go alone," she said gently but quite firmly.
"What are you reading?"
"Dante's 'Paradiso.'"
She put the book down on a table at her elbow.
"I don't believe you meant me to be let in," he said bluntly.
"I didn't know it was you. How could I know?"
"And if you had known?"
She hesitated. His brows contracted till he looked almost fierce.
"I'm not sure. Honestly I'm not sure. I've been quite alone since
Friday, when they went. And I'd got it into my head that I wasn't going
to see any one till to-morrow, except, of course, at the church."
Dion felt chilled almost to the bone.
"I can't understand," he almost burst out, in an uncontrolled way that
surprised himself. "Are you completely self-sufficing then? But it isn't
natural. Could you live alone?"
"I didn't say that."
She looked at him steadily and calmly, without a hint of anger.
"But could you?"
"I don't know. Probably not. I've never tried."
"But you don't hate the idea?"
His voice was almost violent.
"No; if--if I were living in a certain way."
"What way?"
But she did not answer his question.
"I dare say I might dislike living alone. I've never done such a thing,
therefore I can't tell."
"You're an enigma," he exclaimed. "And you seem so--so--you have this
extraordinary, this abnormal power of attracting people to you. You are
friends with everybody."
"Indeed I'm not."
"I mean you're so cordial, so friendly with everybody. Don't you care
for anybody?"
"I care very much for some people."
"And yet you could live alone! Shut in here for days with a book"--at
that moment he was positively jealous of old Dante, gone to his rest
five hundred and seventy-four years ago--"you're perfectly happy."
"The 'Paradiso' isn't an ordinary book," she said, very gently,
and looking at him with a kind, almost beaming expression in her
yellow-brown eyes.
"I don't believe you ever read an ordinary book."
"I like to feed on fine things. I'm half afraid of the second-rate."
"I love you for that. Oh, Rosamund, I love you for so many things!"
He got up and stood by the fire, turning his back to her for a moment.
When he swung round his face was earnest but he looked calmer. She
saw that he was making a strong effort to hold himself in, that he was
reaching out after self-control.
"I can't tell you all the things I love you for," he said, "but your
independence of spirit frightens me. From the very first, from that
evening when I saw you in the omnibus at the Milan Station over a year
ago, I felt your independence."
"Did I manifest it in the omnibus to poor Beattie and my guardian?" she
asked, smiling, and in a lighter tone.
"I don't know," he said gravely. "But when I saw you the same evening
walking with your sister in the public garden I felt it more strongly.
Even the way you held your head and moved--you reminded me of the
maidens of the Porch on the Acropolis. I connected you with Greece and
all my--my dreams of Greece."
"Perhaps if you hadn't just come from Greece--"
"Wasn't it strange," he said, interrupting her but quite unconscious
that he did so, "that almost the first words I heard you speak were
about Greece? You were telling your sister abut the Greek divers who
come to Portofino to find coral under the sea. I was sitting alone in
the garden, and you passed and I heard just a few words. They made me
think of the first Greek Island I ever saw, rising out of the sunset
as I voyaged from Constantinople to the Piraeus. It was wonderfully
beautiful and wonderfully calm. It was like a herald of all the beauty
and purity I found in Greece. It was--like you."
"How you hated Constantinople!" she said. "I remember you denouncing its
noise and its dirt, and the mongrel horrors of Pera, to my guardian in
the hotel where we made friends. And he put in a plea for Stamboul."
"Yes, I exaggerated. But Constantinople stood to me for all the uproar
of life, and Greece for the calm and beauty and happiness, the great
Sanity of the true happiness."
He looked at her with yearning in his dark eyes.
"For all I want in my own life," he added.
He paused; then an expression of strong, almost hard resolution made his
face look suddenly older.
"You told me at Burstal, on the Chilton Downs, after your debut in
'Elijah,' that you would give me an answer soon. I have waited a good
while--some weeks----"
"Why did you ask me just that day, after 'Woe unto them'?"
"I felt I must," he answered, but with a slight awkwardness, as if he
were evading something and felt half-guilty. "To-day I decided I would
ask you again, for the last time."
"You would never----"
"No, never. If you say 'Wait, and come later on and ask me,' I shall not
come."
She | 48.045529 |
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Produced by Free Elf, Anne Storer and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Notes:
1) Mousul/Mosul, piastre/piaster, Shiraz/Sheeraz,
Itch-Meeazin/Ech-Miazin/Etchmiazin,
each used on numerous occasions;
2) Arnaouts/Arnaoots, Dr. Beagrie/Dr. Beagry,
Beirout/Bayrout/Beyraut(x2), Saltett/Sallett,
Shanakirke/Shammakirke, Trebizond/Trebisand - once each.
All left as in original text.
3) M^R = a superscripted "R".
* * * * *
JOURNAL
OF A
RESIDENCE AT BAGDAD,
&c, &c.
LONDON:
DENNETT, PRINTER, LEATHER LANE.
JOURNAL
OF A
RESIDENCE AT BAGDAD,
DURING THE YEARS 1830 AND 1831,
BY
M^R. ANTHONY N. GROVES,
MISSIONARY.
LONDON:
JAMES NISBET, BERNERS STREET.
M DCCC XXXII.
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION.
This little work needs nothing from us to recommend it to attention.
In its incidents it presents more that is keenly interesting, both to
the natural and to the spiritual feelings, than it would have been
easy to combine in the boldest fiction. And then it is not fiction.
The manner in which the story is told leaves realities unencumbered,
to produce their own impression. It might gratify the imagination, and
even aid in enlarging our practical views, to consider such scenes as
possible, and to fancy in what spirit a Christian might meet them; but
it extends our experience, and invigorates our faith, to know that,
having actually taken place, it is thus that they have been met.
The first missionaries were wont, at intervals, to return from their
foreign labours, and relate to those churches whose prayers had sent
them forth, "all things that God had done with them" during their
absence. To the Christians at Antioch, there must have been important
edification, as well as satisfaction to their affectionate concern
about the individuals, and about the cause, in the narrative of Paul
and Barnabas. Nor would the states of mind experienced, and the spirit
manifested, by the narrators themselves be less instructive, than the
various reception of their message by various hearers. In these pages,
in like manner, Mr. Groves contributes to the good of the Church, an
important fruit of his mission, were it to yield no other. He had cast
himself upon the Lord. To Him he had left it to direct his path; to
give him what things He knew he had need of, and whether outward
prospects were bright or gloomy, to be the strength of his heart and
his portion for ever. The publication of his former little Journal was
the erection of his Eben Ezer. Hitherto, said he to us in England, the
Lord hath helped me. And now, after a prolonged residence among a
people with whom, in natural things, he can have no communion, and
who, towards his glad tidings of salvation, are as apathetic as is
compatible with the bitterest contempt; after having had, during many
weeks, his individual share of the suffering, and his mind worn with
the spectacle, of a city strangely visited at once with plague, and
siege, and inundation, and internal tumult; widowed, and not without
experience of "flesh and heart fainting and failing," he again
"blesses God for all the way he has led him,"[1] tells us that "the
Lord's great care over him in the abundant provision for all his
necessities, enables him yet further to sing of his goodness;"[2] and
while his situation makes him say, "what a place would this be to be
alone in now" if without God, he adds, "but with Him, this is better
than the garden of Eden."[3] "The Lord is my only stay, my only
support; and He is a support indeed."[4]
It is remarkable, that at a time when the fear of pestilence has
agitated the people of this country, and when the tottering fabric of
society threatens to hurl down upon us as dire a confusion as that
which has surrounded our brother, in a country hitherto regarded so
remote from all comparison with our own; at a time when the records of
the seasons at which the terrible voice of God has sounded loudest in
our capital, are republished as appropriate to the contemplation of
Christians at the existing crisis;[5]--this volume should have been
brought before the Public, by circumstances quite unconnected with
this train of God's | 48.134608 |
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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)
Every attempt has been made to replicate the original book as printed.
Some typographical errors have been corrected. (a list follows the
text.) No attempt has been made to correct or normalize all of the
printed accentuation of names or words in French. (etext transcriber’s
note)
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
VOL. IV
[Illustration: Augustus J. C. Hare]
THE STORY OF
MY LIFE
BY
AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE
AUTHOR OF “MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE.”
“THE STORY OF TWO NOBLE LIVES.”
ETC. ETC.
VOLUME IV
LONDON
GEORGE ALLEN, 156, CHARING CROSS ROAD
1900
[_All rights reserved_]
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON | 48.296375 |
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produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
TEN DOLLARS ENOUGH
KEEPING HOUSE WELL ON TEN DOLLARS
A WEEK; HOW IT HAS BEEN DONE;
HOW IT MAY BE DONE AGAIN
BY
CATHERINE OWEN
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1888
Copyright, 1886,
BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
_All rights reserved._
SEVENTH EDITION.
_The Riverside Press, Cambridge_:
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
PREFACE.
The success of “Ten Dollars Enough,” as it appeared serially in the
pages of “Good Housekeeping,” and the numerous letters received by the
editor of that magazine asking for it in more convenient shape, has led
to its publication in its present form.
It is very pleasant to learn from these same letters that the writers
have tried Molly’s recipes with such success, there being, I am assured
by the same gentleman, but two exceptions (and one of these candidly
says the fault might be her own) among the large number who expressed
satisfaction.
This testimony is especially gratifying, showing, as it does, how
earnest and faithful my readers have been; for, although the directions
were minutely given and every effort made to meet difficulties, all
_my_ care would not have sufficed to produce success, had there not
been faithful coöperation on the part of those who followed them. I
take this opportunity to make clear two matters which, I found early in
the course of the story, were lost sight of by two or three readers,
perhaps others.
I allude to the prices of provisions and the amount of cooking
accomplished in a given time.
To those who questioned the cost of articles I would say: they forgot,
reading in _December_, when they were doubtless paying higher prices,
that the prices quoted were for _September_. To another who quotes the
high price _she_ has to pay for certain things, I only say: Molly was
keeping house with some luxury, on the same amount of table-money as
many require to live very plainly. This could not be done except by
buying everything only in its season; if beyond a certain price, she
waited for it to get lower.
This brings me to what is after all the gist of the matter. “Ten
Dollars Enough” was intended for readers in widely different parts of
the country. It would have readers where the meat and poultry prices
would seem very high, and the groceries equally low. I therefore
decided to take average New York retail prices and not to go below them.
There may be cities and suburbs where the prices are higher than in New
York, but in my experience these are few compared with the many where
they are lower.
As to the question of time, Molly is not represented as an
inexperienced young wife, but as a graduate of cooking-schools, who
could herself have joined the corps of culinary teachers had it been
necessary.
Her expertness had not come without many failures, and the readers of
“Ten Dollars Enough” were invited to profit by the finished result of
her failures and experiments. Because she had often failed before she
succeeded, she was able to avert failure from Marta or others.
Bearing in mind, then, that Molly knew precisely what to do and how to
do it, it will be readily seen that her most elaborate dinner was very
simple indeed, compared with the _ménu_ prepared by one lady and her
assistant at any first-rate cooking demonstration, in the same space of
time.
CATHERINE OWEN.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Mr. and Mrs. Bishop try the Experiment 1
CHAPTER II.
At Home 7
CHAPTER III.
Molly’s First Bill of Fare 19
CHAPTER IV.
Bread-Making—Breakfast—Baked Potatoes—Corn Muffins—Breaded
Chops—How to fry 30
CHAPTER V.
How to manage the Fat that has been used for frying—Cup
Cake 37
CHAPTER VI.
What “Simmering” means 40
CHAPTER VII.
Molly and Mrs. Lennox—Economical Buying makes Good Living 52
CHAPTER VIII.
Beef Pot-Pie—Leg of Mutton—Two Roasts—Several Wholesome
Economical Dishes 58
CHAPTER IX.
Veal Cutlets, Breaded 63
CHAPTER X.
Details of Molly’s Management—Recipes 70
CHAPTER XI.
What to do with a Soup-Bone 79
CHAPTER XII.
Molly and Mrs. Lennox on the Ruffle Question—Fricassee of
Mutton—Cabbage again 86
CHAPTER XIII.
Preparing to save Work—Brown Thickening—White
Thickening—Caramel 93
CHAPTER XIV.
Marketing—Apple Pudding—Liver and Bacon—Braised
Beef—Boiling Puddings 95
CHAPTER XV.
Rolls—Baked Liver—Croquettes—What was the Matter with
them—Hotch-Potch 100
CHAPTER XVI.
Rye Bread—Oyster Patties—Knuckle of Veal, à la Maître
d’Hôtel—A | 48.709657 |
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Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
The Works of E.P. Roe
VOLUME SEVENTEEN
SUCCESS WITH SMALL FRUITS
ILLUSTRATED
1881
I Dedicate this Book
TO
MR. CHARLES DOWNING
A Neighbor, Friend, and Horticulturist
FROM WHOM I SHALL ESTEEM IT A PRIVILEGE TO LEARN IN COMING YEARS AS I
HAVE IN THE PAST
PREFACE
A book should be judged somewhat in view of what it attempts. One of
the chief objects of this little volume is to lure men and women back
to their original calling, that of gardening. I am decidedly under the
impression that Eve helped Adam, especially as the sun declined. I am
sure that they had small fruits for breakfast, dinner and supper, and
would not be at all surprised if they ate some between meals. Even we
poor mortals who have sinned more than once, and must give our minds to
the effort not to appear unnatural in many hideous styles of dress, can
fare as well. The Adams and Eves of every generation can have an Eden
if they wish. Indeed, I know of many instances in which Eve creates a
beautiful and fruitful garden without any help from Adam.
The theologians show that we have inherited much evil from our first
parents, but, in the general disposition to have a garden, can we not
recognize a redeeming ancestral trait? I would like to contribute my
little share toward increasing this tendency, believing that as
humanity goes back to its first occupation it may also acquire some of
the primal gardener's characteristics before he listened to temptation
and ceased to be even a gentleman. When he brutally blamed the woman,
it was time he was turned out of Eden. All the best things of the
garden suggest refinement and courtesy. Nature might have contented
herself with producing seeds only, but she accompanies the prosaic
action with fragrant flowers and delicious fruit. It would be well to
remember this in the ordinary courtesies of life.
Moreover, since the fruit-garden and farm do not develop in a
straightforward, matter-of-fact way, why should I write about them
after the formal and terse fashion of a manual or scientific treatise?
The most productive varieties of fruit blossom and have some foliage
which may not be very beautiful, any more than the departures from
practical prose in this book are interesting; but, as a leafless plant
or bush, laden with fruit, would appear gaunt and naked, so, to the
writer, a book about them without any attempt at foliage and flowers
would seem unnatural. The modern chronicler has transformed history
into a fascinating story. Even science is now taught through the charms
of fiction. Shall this department of knowledge, so generally useful, be
left only to technical prose? Why should we not have a class of books
as practical as the gardens, fields, and crops, concerning which they
are written, and at the same time having much of the light, shade,
color, and life of the out-of-door world? I merely claim that I have
made an attempt in the right direction, but, like an unskillful artist,
may have so confused my lights, shades, and mixed my colors so badly,
that my pictures resemble a strawberry-bed in which the weeds have the
better of the fruit.
Liberal outlines of this work appeared in "Scribner's Magazine," but
the larger scope afforded by the book has enabled me to treat many
subjects for which there was no space in the magazine, and also to give
my views more fully concerning topics only touched upon in the serial.
As the fruits described are being improved, so in the future other and
more skillful horticulturists will develop the literature relating to
them into its true proportions.
I am greatly indebted to the instruction received at various times from
those venerable fathers and authorities on all questions relating to
Eden-like pursuits--Mr. Chas. Downing of Newburg, and Hon. Marshall P.
Wilder of Boston, Mr. J. J. Thomas, Dr. Geo. Thurber; to such valuable
works as those of A. S. Fuller, A. J. Downing, P. Barry, J. M. Merrick,
Jr.; and some English authors; to the live horticultural journals in
the East, West, and South; and, last but not least, to many plain,
practical fruit-growers who are as well informed and sensible | 48.995607 |
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Credit
Transcribed from the 1914 Burns & Oates edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
SHELLEY: AN ESSAY
The Church, which was once the mother of poets no less than of saints,
during the last two centuries has relinquished to aliens the chief
glories of poetry, if the chief glories of holiness she has preserved for
her own. The palm and the laurel, Dominic and Dante, sanctity and song,
grew together in her soil: she has retained the palm, but forgone the
laurel. Poetry in its widest sense, {1} and when not professedly
irreligious, has been too much and too long among many Catholics either
misprised or distrusted; too much and too generally the feeling has been
that it is at best superfluous, at worst pernicious, most often
dangerous. Once poetry was, as she should be | 49.227038 |
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[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and
italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI
[Illustration]
OR: IN THE COUNTRY OF THE SIOUX
THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES
BY HARRISON ADAMS
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO,
Or: Clearing the Wilderness $1.25
THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES,
Or: On the Trail of the Iroquois 1.25
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISS | 49.561183 |
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THE INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE
ON CIVILISATION
THE
INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE
ON CIVILISATION
BY
ERNST VON DOBSCHUeTZ
PROFESSOR OF THE NEW TESTAMENT IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
HALLE-WITTENBERG
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1914
_Copyright_, 1914
BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published April, 1914
PREFACE
One of the greatest questions of our day is how modern civilisation and
Christianity can go on in harmony. One can approach this question by
several ways, but historical investigation has always proved to be the
surest. The author has in mind to write in German a full "History of the
Bible," when time will allow. Meanwhile this brief sketch may prove
useful. Readers who look for references will find most of them in an
article contributed by the present writer to Dr. J. Hastings's
Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, vol. II, on "The Bible in the
Christian Church."
The author wishes to express his thanks to his friend, Professor J. H.
Ropes, for kindly reading the proofs for him, to Mr. W. J. Wilson and
Mr. H. A. Sherman, who helped him in improving the diction, and to
Professor Williston Walker for valuable information regarding early
American documents. If any reader should find fault with the English
style of this book, he must not blame any translator--the author himself
is responsible.
ERNST VON DOBSCHUeTZ.
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
_January_, 1914.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE BIBLE MAKES ITSELF INDISPENSABLE FOR THE
CHURCH (TO 325 A. D.) 3
II. THE BIBLE BEGINS TO RULE THE CHRISTIAN
EMPIRE (325-600 A. D.) 28
III. THE BIBLE TEACHES THE GERMAN NATIONS (500-800 A. D. ) 47
IV. THE BIBLE BECOMES ONE BASIS OF MEDIAEVAL
CIVILISATION (800-1150 A. D.) 67
V. THE BIBLE STIRS NON-CONFORMIST MOVEMENTS (1150-1450) 94
VI. THE BIBLE TRAINS PRINTERS AND TRANSLATORS (1450-1611) 117
VII. THE BIBLE RULES DAILY LIFE (1550-1850) 138
VIII. THE BIBLE BECOMES ONCE MORE THE BOOK OF DEVOTION 164
ILLUSTRATIONS
PLATE TO FACE PAGE
I. HARVARD PAPYRUS. ROMANS 1 : 1-7 14
II. ORIGEN'S HEXAPLA 16
III. CODEX SINAITICUS 28
IV. ROLL AND BOOK 30
V. VIENNA GENESIS 32
VI. JOSHUA ROLL 38
VII. THE LORD'S PRAYER ON A POTSHERD 46
VIII. GOTHIC BIBLE 50
IX. ALCUIN'S BIBLE 52
X. THEODULF'S BIBLE 54
XI. LINDISFARNE GOSPELS 66
XII. BYZANTINE MINIATURE 70
XIII. ENGLISH MINIATURE 82
XIV. WYCLIFFE'S BIBLE 116
XV. GUTENBERG'S FIRST PRINTED BIBLE 122
XVI. FIRST PRINTED GERMAN BIBLE 126
THE INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE ON CIVILISATION
I
THE BIBLE MAKES ITSELF INDISPENSABLE FOR THE CHURCH (UNTIL 325 A. D.)
There is a small book; one can put it in one's pocket, and yet all the
libraries of America, numerous as they are, would hardly be large enough
to hold all the books which have been inspired by this one little
volume. The reader will know what I am speaking of; it is the Bible, as
we are used to call it--the Book | 49.587457 |
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
PRIVATE LETTERS
OF
EDWARD GIBBON.
[Illustration: SILHOUETTE PORTRAIT OF EDWARD GIBBON.
_Frontispiece, Vol. II._]
PRIVATE LETTERS
OF
EDWARD GIBBON
(1753-1794).
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD.
EDITED BY
ROWLAND E. PROTHERO,
BARRISTER-AT-LAW, SOME-TIME FELLOW OF ALL SOULS' COLLEGE, OXFORD.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1896.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED.
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
GIBBON'S CORRESPONDENCE.
1753-1794.
418.
_To his Stepmother._
Bentinck Street, July 3rd, 1781.
DEAR MADAM,
Though your kind impatience might make the time appear tedious, there
has been no other delay in my business, than the necessary forms of
Election. My new constituents of Lymington obligingly chose me in my
absence. I took my seat last Wednesday, and am now so old a member
that I begin to complain of the heat and length of the Session. So
much for Parliament. With regard to the board of trade, I am ignorant
of your friend's meaning, and possibly she may be so herself. There
has not been (to my knowledge) the most distant idea of my leaving
it, and indeed there are few places within the compass of any
rational ambition that I should like so well.
In a few days, as soon as we are relieved from public business, I
shall go down to my Country house for the summer. Do not stare.
I say my Country house. Notwithstanding Caplin's very diligent
enquiries, I have not been able to please myself with anything in the
neighbourhood of London, and have therefore hired for three months
a small pleasant house at Brighthelmstone. I flatter myself that in
that admirable sea-air, with the vicinity of Sheffield place, and a
proper mixture of light study in the morning and good company in the
evening, the summer may roll away not disagreably.--As I know your
tender apprehensions, I promise you not to bathe in the sea without
due preparation and advice.
Mrs. Porten has chosen, not for health but pleasure, a different
sea-shore: she has been some weeks at Margate, and will scarcely
return to town before my departure. I sincerely sympathize in all
the melancholy scenes which have afflicted your sensibility, and am
more particularly concerned about poor Miss Gould, to whom I wish
to express the thoughts and hopes of friendship on this melancholy
occasion. Lady Miller's[1] sudden death has excited some attention
even in this busy World, her foibles are mentioned with general
regard. Adieu, Dear Madam, and do not let Mrs. Ravaud tempt you into
Elysium: we are tolerably well here.
I am
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
[1] Anna, Lady Miller (1741-1781), author of _Letters from Italy,
by an Englishwoman_ (1776), a verse-writer and a well-known
character at Bath, held a literary salon at her villa at
Batheaston. She held, writes Walpole, January 15, 1775, "a
Parnassus-fair every Thursday, gives out rhymes and themes, and
all the flux of quality at Bath contend for the prizes." An
antique vase, purchased in Italy, was placed | 49.660912 |
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1. Page scan source:
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THE HEART OF DENISE
AND OTHER TALES
[Illustration: "DE CLERMONT GAVE MADAME AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF THE
DEFENCE OF AMBAZAC MADE BY HER HUSBAND AGAINST THE PRINCE OF CONDE"
Page 39]
The Heart of Denise
and Other Tales
BY
S. LEVETT-YEATS
_Author of "The Chevalier d'Auriac_,"
"_The Honour of Savelli," etc_.
NEW YORK
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
LONDON AND BOMBAY
1899
Copyright, 1898, by
S. LEVETT YEATS.
* * *
_All rights reserved_.
ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK.
CONTENTS.
THE HEART OF DENISE.
I. M. de Lorgnac's Price.
II. The Oratory.
III. The Spur of Les Eschelles.
IV. At Ambazac.
V. M. Le Marquis Leads His Highest Trump.
VI. At the Sign of the Golden Frog.
VII. Unmasked.
VIII. Blaise de Lorgnac.
IX. La Coquille's Message.
X. Monsieur le Chevalier is Paid in Full.
THE CAPTAIN MORATTI'S LAST AFFAIR.
I. "Arcades Ambo."
II. At "The Devil on Two Sticks."
III. Felicita.
IV. Conclusion--The Torre Dolorosa.
THE TREASURE OF SHAGUL.
THE FOOT OF GAUTAMA.
THE DEVIL'S MANUSCRIPT.
I. The Black Packet.
II. The Red Trident.
III. "The Mark of the Beast."
UNDER THE ACHILLES.
THE MADNESS OF SHERE BAHADUR.
REGINE'S APE.
A SHADOW OF THE PAST.
THE HEART OF DENISE
CHAPTER I.
M. DE LORGNAC'S PRICE.
One afternoon I sat alone in the little anteroom before the Queen
Mother's cabinet. In front of me was an open door. The curtains of
violet velvet, spangled with golden lilies, were half drawn, and
beyond extended a long, narrow, and gloomy corridor, leading into the
main salon of the Hotel de Soissons, from which the sound of music and
occasional laughter came to me. My sister maids of honour were there,
doubtless making merry as was their wont with the cavaliers of the
court, and I longed to be with them, instead of watching away the
hours in the little prison, I can call it no less, that led to the
Queen's closet.
In the corridor were two sentries standing as motionless as statues.
They were in shadow, except where here and there a straggling gleam of
light caught their armour with dazzling effect, and M. de Lorgnac, the
lieutenant of the guard, paced slowly up and down the full length of
the passage, twisting his dark moustache, and turning abruptly when he
came within a few feet of the entrance to the anteroom.
I was so dull and wearied that it would have been something even to
talk to M. de Lorgnac, bear though he was, but he took no more notice
of me than if I were a stick or a stone, and yet there were, I do not
know how many, who would have given their ears for a _tete-a-tete_
with Denise de Mieux.
I ought not to have been surprised, for the lieutenant showed no more
favour to any one else than he did to me, and during the year or more
I had been here, enjoying for the first time in my life the gaieties
of the Court, after my days in apron-strings at Lespaille, my uncle de
Tavannes' seat, I had not, nor had a soul as far as I knew, seen M. de
Lorgnac exchange more than a formal bow and a half-dozen words with
any woman. He was poor as a homeless cat, his patrimony, as we heard,
being but a sword and a ruined tower somewhere in the Correze. So, as
he had nothing to recommend him except a tall, straight figure, and a
reputation for bravery--qualities that were shared by a hundred others
with more agreeable manners, we left Monsieur L'Ours, as we nicknamed
him, to himself, and, to say the truth, he did not seem much
discomposed by our neglect.
As for me I hardly noticed his existence, sometimes barely returning
his bow; but often have I caught him observing me gravely with a
troubled look in his grey eyes, and as ill | 49.72448 |
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 107.
JUNE 21, 1894.
* * * * *
A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.
In my garden, where the rose
By the hundred gaily blows,
And the river freshly flows
Close to me,
I can spend the summer day
In a quite idyllic way;
Simply charming, you would say,
Could you see.
I am far from stuffy town,
Where the soots meander down,
And the air seems--being brown--
Close to me.
I am far from rushing train;
_Bradshaw_ does not bore my brain,
Nor, comparatively plain,
_A B C_.
To my punt I can repair,
If the weather's fairly fair,
But one grievance I have there;
Close to me,
As I sit and idly dream,
Clammy corpses ever seem
Floating down the placid stream
To the sea.
Though the boats that crowd the lock--
Such an animated block!--
Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,
Close to me,
Yet I heed not tasty togs,
When, as motionless as logs,
Float defunct and dismal dogs
There _aussi_.
As in Egypt at a feast,
With each party comes at least
One sad corpse, departed beast,
Close to me;
Till a Canon might go off,
Till a Dean might swear or scoff,
Or a Bishop--tip-top toff
In a see.
Floating to me from above,
If it stick, with gentle shove,
To my neighbour, whom I love,
Close to me,
I send on each gruesome guest.
Should I drag it out to rest
In my garden? No, I'm blest!
_Non, merci!_
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.
_Orlando._ "TIRED, ROSALIND?" _Rosalind._ "PNEUMATICALLY."]
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
"For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant,
commend me," quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to _Only a
Drummer-Boy_, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who
calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER
HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write
soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults
'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not
of anatomy." "The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.
* * * * *
HOTEL NOTE.--The _chef_ at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "_Gordon
Bleu_."
* * * * *
THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.
(_Bisley Edition._)
_Question._ What is the ambition of every rifleman?
_Answer._ To become an expert marksman.
_Q._ How is this to be done?
_A._ By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation
exists), and appearing at Bisley.
_Q._ Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the
last?
_A._ Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.
_Q._ But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than
marksmanship?
_A._ Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their _marquees_
merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.
_Q._ Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?
_A._ Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and
the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.
_Q._ Then the business of Bisley is shooting?
_A._ Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as
its companion spot, Woking.
_Q._ In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the
marksman?
_A._ To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.
_Q._ Is it necessary to appear in uniform?
_A._ That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize
competitions.
_Q._ What is uniform?
_A._ As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will
order a marksman to adopt.
_Q._ If some marksmen were paraded | 49.742685 |
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Transcriber's Note
Led by the belief that the spelling and punctuation of each
entry is based directly on the original title pages no
intentional 'corrections' have been made to the content. The
text in this e-book is as close to the original printed text
as pgdp proofing and postprocessing could get it. In some
entries larger spaces are used as spacers between
bibliographic fields instead of punctuation. These have been
retained to the best of our ability and are represented as
non-breaking spaces.
A CATALOGUE OF
Books in English
later than 1700, forming
a portion of the Library
of Robert Hoe New
York 1905
EX
LIBRIS
ROBERT
HOE
VOLUME II
CATALOGUE
VOLUME II
ONE HUNDRED COPIES ONLY, INCLUDING
THREE UPON IMPERIAL
JAPANESE VELLUM--PRINTED BY
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE
A Catalogue of Books
in English
Later than 1700
Forming a Portion of the Library
of Robert Hoe
[Illustration]
VOLUME II
Privately Printed
New York. 1905
THIS CATALOGUE WAS COMPILED BY
CAROLYN SHIPMAN
THE CATALOGUE
HADEN, SIR FRANCIS SEYMOUR.--The Etched Work of Rembrandt critically
considered. By Francis Seymour Haden,... 1877. 110 copies privately
printed for the Author. [London, Metchim & Son] _4to, paper._
First edition. Three photogravure plates.
HADEN, SIR FRANCIS SEYMOUR.--About Etching. Part I. Notes by Mr. Seymour
Haden on a collection of etchings and engravings by the great masters
lent by him to the Fine Art Society to illustrate the subject of
etching. Part II. An annotated catalogue of the examples exhibited of
etchers and painter-engravers' work. Illustrated with An original
Etching by Mr. Seymour Haden, and fifteen facsimiles of Etchings.
[London] The Fine Art Society... 1879. _4to, half brown morocco, gilt
top, uncut edges._
First edition.
HAEBLER, KONRAD.--The Early Printers of Spain and Portugal By Konrad
Haebler London printed for the Bibliographical Society at the Chiswick
Press March 1897 for 1896. _Royal 4to, original paper wrappers, uncut
edges._
Woodcut frontispiece and thirty-three plates.
No. IV. of Illustrated Monographs issued by the Bibliographical Society.
HAFIZ.--The D[=i]v[=a]n, written in the fourteenth century, by [Persian
name] Khw[=a]ja Shamsu-d-D[=i]n Muham-mad-i [H.][=a]fi[z:]-i-Sh[=i]r[=a]z[=i]
otherwise known as Lis[=a]nu-l-[.Gh=]aib and Tarjum[=a]nu-l-Asr[=a]r.
Translated for the first time out of the Persian into English prose, with
critical and explanatory remarks, with an introductory preface, with a
note on S[=u]f[=i],ism, and with a life of the author, by Lieut.-Col. H.
Wilberforce Clarke,... [Calcutta] 1891. _4to, two volumes, cloth._
HAGGARD AND LANG.--The World's Desire by H. Rider Haggard and Andrew
Lang. London: Longmans, Green, and Co. 1890. _Crown 8vo, cloth, uncut
edges._
First edition.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Letter Bag of the Great Western; or,
Life in a Steamer.... By the author of "The Sayings and Doings of
Samuel Slick." London: Richard Bentley,... 1840. _Crown 8vo, cloth,
uncut edges._
First English | 49.742691 |
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THE HEART OF ROME
A Tale of the "Lost water"
BY FRANCIS MARION CRAWFORD Author of "Cecilia," "Saracinesca," "In the
Palace of the King," Etc.
THE HEART OF ROME
CHAPTER I
The Baroness Volterra drove to the Palazzo Conti in the heart of Rome
at nine o'clock in the morning, to be sure of finding Donna Clementina
at home. She had tried twice to telephone, on the previous afternoon,
but the central office had answered that "the communication was
interrupted." She was very anxious to see Clementina at once, in order
to get her support for a new and complicated charity. She only wanted
the name, and expected nothing else, for the Conti had very little
ready money, though they still lived as if they were rich. This did not
matter to their friends, but was a source of constant anxiety to their
creditors, and to the good Pompeo Sassi, the steward of the ruined
estate. He alone knew what the Conti owed, for none of them knew much
about it themselves, though he had done his best to make the state of
things clear to them.
The big porter of the palace was sweeping the pavement of the great
entrance, as the cab drove in. He wore his working clothes of grey
linen with silver buttons bearing the ancient arms of his masters, and
his third best gold-laced cap. There was nothing surprising in this, at
such an early hour, and as he was a grave man with a long grey beard
that made him look very important, the lady who drove up in the open
cab did not notice that he was even more solemn than usual. When she
appeared, he gave one more glance at the spot he had been sweeping, and
then grounded his broom like a musket, folded his hands on the end of
the broomstick and looked at her as if he wondered what on earth had
brought her to the palace at that moment, and wished that she would
take herself off again as soon as possible.
He did not even lift his cap to her, yet there was nothing rude in his
manner. He behaved like a man upon whom some one intrudes when he is in
great trouble.
The Baroness was rather more exigent in requiring respect from servants
than most princesses of the Holy Roman Empire, for her position in the
aristocratic scale was not very well defined.
She was not pleased, and spoke with excessive coldness when she asked
if Donna Clementina was at home. The porter stood motionless beside the
cab, leaning on his broom. After a pause he said in a rather strange
voice that Donna Clementina was certainly in, but that he could not
tell whether she were awake or not.
"Please find out," answered the Baroness, with impatience. "I am
waiting," she added with an indescribable accent of annoyance and
surprise, as if she had never been kept waiting before, in all the
fifty years of her more or less fashionable life.
There were speaking-tubes in the porter's lodge, communicating with
each floor of the great Conti palace, but the porter did not move.
"I cannot go upstairs and leave the door," he said.
"You can speak to the servant through the tube, I suppose!"
The porter slowly shook his massive head, and his long grey beard
wagged from side to side.
"There are no servants upstairs," he said. "There is only the family."
"No servants? Are you crazy?"
"Oh, no!" answered the man meditatively. "I do not think I am mad. The
servants all went away last night after dinner, with their belongings.
There were only sixteen left, men and women, for I counted them."
"Do you mean to say--" The Baroness stopped in the middle of her
question, staring in amazement.
The porter now nodded, as solemnly | 49.832434 |
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produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+---------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Sections of this text have been quoted from historical |
| documents written with great variability in spelling and |
| punctuation. These inconsistencies have been retained. A list |
| of corrections made to the 1904 portions of this text can be |
| found following this text. |
| |
+---------------------------------------------------------------+
HOUSE
OF
JOHN PROCTER,
WITCHCRAFT MARTYR, 1692.
BY WM. P. UPHAM.
PEABODY:
PRESS OF C. H. SHEPARD,
1904.
[Illustration: Map]
HOUSE OF JOHN PROCTER
WITCHCRAFT MARTYR, 1692.
[A paper read by William P. Upham at a meeting of the Peabody
Historical Society at the Needham house, West Peabody, September 2nd.,
1903.]
It is now nearly forty years since I assisted my father, the late
Charles W. Upham, in the preparation of his work on Salem Village and
the Witchcraft tragedy of 1692, by collecting what information could
be obtained from the records as to the people and their homes in
that locality. In doing this I was enabled to construct a map showing
the bounds of the grants and farms at that time. On that map is
represented quite accurately the Downing Farm, so called, owned, in
1638, by Emanuel Downing, father of Sir George Downing, and occupied
as tenant, in 1692, by John Procter, the victim of the witchcraft
delusion. When I made the map I knew that John Procter at his death
owned, as appears by the inventory of his estate, fifteen acres of
land in Salem, but I was not able then to locate it with exactness.
Lately, in making a more complete study of the records relating to the
Downing farm and the surrounding lands I have learned the exact
situation of the fifteen acre lot owned by him, and also that he had a
house upon it as early as 1682 and until his death in 1692. It appears
that this lot is the place where he was buried, according to the
family tradition, although the knowledge as to its being once owned by
him seems to have passed out of the neighborhood for more than a
century.
This lot is indicated, on the accompanying map of the locality which I
have drawn for the purpose, by heavy dark lines. It was on the north
side of Lowell Street in West Peabody, just west of the westernmost
line of the Downing Farm and about one hundred and fifty rods east
from the place of this meeting, which is the Needham homestead on the
Newburyport Turnpike, or Newbury Street as it is now called, marked on
the map as then, in 1692, the home of Anthony Needham, Junior.
The discovery that this was John Procter's land called to mind a
conversation I had with Mrs. Jacobs, an aged lady who lived in the old
Jacobs house, now the Wyman place, and of which I made the following
memorandum about thirty years ago:--
"Mrs. Jacobs (Munroe) says that it was always said that Procters were
buried near the bars as you go into the Philip H. Saunders place. Mr.
James Marsh says he always heard that John Procter, of witch time, was
buried there."
Upon inquiring lately of Mrs. Osborn, the librarian of the Peabody
Historical Society, as to what was the family tradition, I learned
that it was said by Mrs. Hannah B. Mansfield, of Danvers, that John
Procter was buried "opposite to the Colcord" (now the Wyman) "pasture,
amongst the rocks." In answer to an inquiry by Mrs. Osborn, Mrs.
Mansfield wrote to her as follows:--"A great aunt took me, when a
little girl, with her to a spot in a rocky hill where she picked
blackberries, and said there was the place 'among birch trees and
rocks where our ancestor of witchcraft notoriety was buried.' It was
on the north side of Lowell Street in what was then called the Marsh
pasture nearly opposite the Jacobs farm which is on the south side of
Lowell Street."
The Marsh pasture from which Mrs. Mansfield's aunt pointed out the
"birch trees and rocks" near by where John Procter was buried was, no
doubt, the pasture conveyed by James Marsh to Philip H. Saunders, 11
June, 1863, and then described as "thirteen acres known by the name of
Bates Pasture." I do not know of any other place near there that would
be called the Marsh pasture at the time Mrs. Mansfield mentions. This
thirteen acre pasture was conveyed by Ezekiel Marsh to John Marsh, 15
Oct., 1819, having been devised to him by his father Ezekiel Marsh. It
had a way leading to it from Lowell Street over the eastern end of the
John Procter lot as shown on my map. This way is still used as well as | 49.87843 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
produced from images hosted by the University of Wisconsin's
Digital Collections.)
Transcriber's Notes: Words in italics in the original are surrounded by
_underscores_. A row of asterisks represents either an ellipsis in a
poetry quotation or a place where the original Greek text was too
corrupt to be read by the translator. Other ellipses match the original.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the
original.
There are numerous long quotations in the original, many missing the
closing quotation mark. Since it is often difficult to determine where a
quotation begins or ends, the transcriber has left quotation marks as
they appear in the original.
A few typographical errors have been corrected. A complete list follows
the text. Other notes also follow the text.
THE
DEIPNOSOPHISTS
OR
BANQUET OF THE LEARNED
OF
ATHENÆUS.
LITERALLY TRANSLATED
BY C. D. YONGE, B.A.
WITH AN APPENDIX OF POETICAL FRAGMENTS,
RENDERED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY VARIOUS AUTHORS,
AND A GENERAL INDEX.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
MDCCCLIV.
LONDON:
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.
PREFACE.
The author of the DEIPNOSOPHISTS was an Egyptian, born in Naucratis, a
town on the left side of the Canopic Mouth of the Nile. The age in which
he lived is somewhat uncertain, but his work, at least the latter
portion of it, must have been written after the death of Ulpian the
lawyer, which happened A.D. 228.
Athenæus appears to have been imbued with a great love of learning, in
the pursuit of which he indulged in the most extensive and multifarious
reading; and the principal value of his work is, that by its copious
quotations it preserves to us large fragments from the ancient poets,
which would otherwise have perished. There are also one or two curious
and interesting extracts in prose; such, for instance, as the account of
the gigantic ship built by Ptolemæus Philopator, extracted from a lost
work of Callixenus of Rhodes.
The work commences, in imitation of Plato's Phædo, with a dialogue, in
which Athenæus and Timocrates supply the place of Phædo and Echecrates.
The former relates to his friend the conversation which passed at a
banquet given at the house of Laurentius, a noble Roman, between some of
the guests, the best known of whom are Galen and Ulpian.
The first two books, and portions of the third, eleventh, and fifteenth,
exist only in an Epitome, of which both the date and author are unknown.
It soon, however, became more common than the original work, and
eventually in a great degree superseded it. Indeed Bentley has proved
that the only knowledge which, in the time of Eustathius, existed of
Athenæus, was through its medium.
Athenæus was also the author of a book entitled, "On the Kings of
Syria," of which no portion has come down to us.
The text which has been adopted in the present translation is that of
Schweighäuser.
C. D. Y.
CONTENTS.
BOOK I.--EPITOME.
The Character of Laurentius--Hospitable and Liberal Men--
Those who have written about Feasts--Epicures--The Praises
of Wine--Names of Meals--Fashions at Meals--Dances--Games
--Baths--Partiality of the Greeks for Amusements--Dancing
and Dancers--Use of some Words--Exercise--Kinds of Food--
Different kinds of Wine--The Produce of various places--
Different Wines 1-57
BOOK II.--EPITOME.
Wine--Drinking--The evils of Drunkenness--Praises of Wine
--Water--Different kinds of Water--Sweetmeats--Couches and
Coverlets--Names of F | 50.228524 |
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E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau, Clive Pickton, 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 29380-h.htm or 29380-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29380/29380-h/29380-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29380/29380-h.zip)
THE ADVENTURES OF HERR BABY
by
MRS. MOLESWORTH
Author of 'Carrots,' 'Us,' Etc.
'I have a boy of five years old:
His face is fair and fresh to see.'
WORDSWORTH
Illustrated by Walter Crane
[Illustration: There was Baby, seated on the grass, one arm fondly
clasping Minet's neck, while with the other he firmly held the famous
money-box.--P. 138.]
London
Macmillan and Co.
and New York
1895
First printed (4to) 1881
Reprinted (Globe 8vo) 1886, 1887, 1890, 1892, 1895
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
FOUR YEARS OLD 1
CHAPTER II.
INSIDE A TRUNK 20
CHAPTER III.
UP IN THE MORNING EARLY 41
CHAPTER IV.
GOING AWAY 60
CHAPTER V.
BY LAND AND SEA 81
CHAPTER VI.
AN OLD SHOP AND AN OGRE 101
CHAPTER VII.
BABY'S SECRET 125
CHAPTER VIII.
FOUND 145
CHAPTER IX.
"EAST OR WEST, HAME IS BEST" 163
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"OH LOOK, LOOK, BABY'S MADE PEEPY-SNOOZLE INTO
'THE PARSON IN THE PULPIT THAT COULDN'T SAY HIS
PRAYERS,'" CRIED DENNY 6
HE SAT WITH ONE ARM PROPPED ON THE TABLE, AND HIS
ROUND HEAD LEANING ON HIS HAND, WHILE THE OTHER
HELD THE PIECE OF BREAD AND BUTTER--BUTTER DOWNWARDS,
OF COURSE 16
THERE WAS ONE TRUNK WHICH TOOK MY FANCY MORE
THAN ALL THE OTHERS 30
FOR A MINUTE OR TWO BABY COULD NOT MAKE OUT WHAT
HAD HAPPENED 50
"ZOU WILL P'OMISE, BETSY, P'OMISE CERTAIN SURE,
NEBBER TO FORGET" 61
POOR LITTLE BOYS, FOR, AFTER ALL, FRITZ HIMSELF
WASN'T VERY BIG! THEY STOOD TOGETHER HAND IN
HAND ON THE STATION PLATFORM, LOOKING, AND
FEELING, RATHER DESOLATE 84
"ARE THAT JOGRAPHY?" HE SAID 94
"OH AUNTIE," HE SAID, "P'EASE 'TOP ONE MINUTE.
HIM SEES SHINY GLASS JUGS LIKE DEAR LITTLE
MOTHER'S. OH, DO 'TOP" 106
BABY VENTURED TO PEEP ROUND. THE LITTLE BLACK-EYED
WHITE-CAPPED MAN CAME TOWARDS THEM SMILING 121
THERE WAS BABY, SEATED ON THE GRASS, ONE ARM
FONDLY CLASPING MINET'S NECK, WHILE WITH THE
OTHER HE FIRMLY HELD THE FAMOUS MONEY-BOX 138
AUNTIE STOOD STILL A MOMENT TO LISTEN 155
FORGETTING ALL ABOUT EVERYTHING, EXCEPT THAT HER
BABY WAS FOUND, UP JUMPED MOTHER 170
THE ADVENTURES OF HERR BABY
CHAPTER I.
FOUR YEARS OLD
"I was four yesterday; when I'm quite old
I'll have a cricket-ball made of pure gold;
I'll never stand up to show that I'm grown;
I'll go at liberty upstairs or down."
He trotted upstairs. Perhaps trotting is not quite the right word, but I
can't find a better. It wasn't at all like a horse or pony trotting, for
he went one foot at a time, right foot first, and when right foot was
safely landed on a step, up came left foot and the rest of Baby himself
after right foot. It took a good while, but Baby didn't mind. He used to
think a good deal while he was going up and down stairs, and it was not
his way to be often in a hurry. There was one thing he could _not_ bear,
and that was any one trying to carry him upstairs. Oh, that did vex
him! His face used to get quite red, right up to the roots of his curly
hair, and down to the edge of the big collar of his sailor suit, for he
had been put into sailor | 50.486136 |
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Produced by Charlene Taylor, Louise Pattison and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
[Illustration]
The Court Houses
--OF A--
Century.
1800-1900.
[Illustration: HOUSE OF LIEUT. JAMES MUNRO, ERECTED 1798, LOT 14, CON. 5,
CHARLOTTEVILLE--USED AS COURT HOUSE, LONDON DISTRICT, 1800-1802.
(_Reproduced by permission of the Ontario Historical Society and William
Briggs, Publisher._)]
[Illustration]
The Court Houses
--OF A--
Century.
A Brief Historical Sketch of the Court Houses of the London District,
the County of Middlesex and County of Elgin.
COMPILED BY
KENNETH W. McKAY, COUNTY CLERK.
PUBLISHED | 50.631087 |
2023-11-16 18:16:37.3355720 | 181 | 208 |
Produced by E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, David Garcia,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading
Team
MONI THE GOAT-BOY
BY JOHANNA SPYRI
Author Of "Heidi"
TRANSLATED BY HELEN B. DOLE
ILLUSTRATED IN COLOR BY CHARLES COPELAND
[Illustration: "_In the midst of the flock came the goat-boy_."]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. ALL IS WELL WITH MONI
II. MONI'S LIFE IN THE MOUNTAINS
III. A VISIT
IV. MONI CAN NO LONGER SING
V. MONI SINGS AGAIN
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"In the midst of the flock came the goat-boy" _frontispiece_
"Moni climbed with | 50.654982 |
2023-11-16 18:16:37.3382470 | 1,316 | 200 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
McCLURE'S LIBRARY OF CHILDREN'S CLASSICS
EDITED BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN AND NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH
GOLDEN NUMBERS
A BOOK OF VERSE FOR YOUTH
THE POSY RING
A BOOK OF VERSE FOR CHILDREN
PINAFORE PALACE
A BOOK OF RHYMES FOR THE NURSERY
_Library of Fairy Literature_
THE FAIRY RING
MAGIC CASEMENTS A SECOND FAIRY BOOK
OTHER VOLUMES TO FOLLOW
_Send to the publishers for Complete Descriptive Catalogue_
GOLDEN NUMBERS
A BOOK OF VERSE FOR YOUTH
CHOSEN AND CLASSIFIED BY
_Kate Douglas Wiggin_
AND
_Nora Archibald Smith_
WITH INTRODUCTION AND INTERLEAVES BY
KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
[Illustration]
"_To add to golden numbers, golden numbers._"
THOMAS DEKKER.
NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1909
_Copyright, 1902, by_
McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.
Published, October, 1902, N
GOLDEN NUMBERS
_Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice._
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
_Hark! the numbers soft and clear_
_Gently steal upon the ear;_
_Now louder, and yet louder rise,_
_And fill with spreading sounds the skies;_
_Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes,_
_In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats._
ALEXANDER POPE.
A NOTE
We are indebted to the following firms for permission to use poems
mentioned:
Frederick Warne & Co., for poems of George Herbert and Reginald Heber;
Small, Maynard & Co., for two poems by Walt Whitman, and "The
Tax-Gatherer," by John B. Tabb; George Routledge & Son, for "Sir Lark
and King Sun," George Macdonald; Longmans, Green & Co., for Andrew
Lang's "Scythe Song"; Lee & Shepard, for "A Christmas Hymn," "Alfred
Dommett," and "Minstrels and Maids," William Morris; J. B. Lippincott
Co., for three poems by Thomas Buchanan Read; John Lane, for "The
Forsaken Merman," Matthew Arnold, and "Song to April," William Watson;
"The Skylark," Frederick Tennyson; E. P. Dutton & Co., for "O Little
Town of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks; Dana, Estes & Co., for "July," by
Susan Hartley Swett; Little, Brown & Co., for poems of Christina G.
Rossetti, and for the three poems, "The Grass," "The Bee," and
"Chartless" by Emily Dickinson; D. Appleton & Co., publishers of
Bryant's Complete Poetical Works, for "March," "Planting of the Apple
Tree," "To the Fringed Gentian," "Death of Flowers," "To a Waterfowl,"
and "The Twenty-second of December"; Charles Scribner's Sons, for "The
Wind" and "A Visit from the Sea," both taken from "A Child's Garden of
Verses"; "The Angler's Reveille," from "The Toiling of Felix"; "Dear
Land of All My Love," from "Poems of Sidney Lanier," and "The Three
Kings," from "With Trumpet and Drum," by Eugene Field; The Churchman,
for "Tacking Ship Off Shore," by Walter Mitchell; The Whitaker-Ray Co.,
for "Columbus" and "Crossing the Plains," from The Complete Poetical
Works of Joaquin Miller; The Macmillan Co., for "At Gibraltar," from
"North Shore Watch and Other Poems," by George Edward Woodberry.
The following poems are used by permission of, and by special
arrangement with, Houghton, Mifflin Co., the authorized publishers:
T. B. Aldrich, "A Turkish Legend," "Before the Rain," "Maple Leaves,"
and "Tiger Lilies"; Christopher P. Cranch, "The Bobolinks"; Alice Cary,
"The Gray Swan"; Margaret Deland, "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks
by Night"; Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Forbearance," "The Humble-Bee," "Duty,"
"The Rhodora," "Concord Hymn," "The Snow Storm," and Ode Sung in the
Town Hall, Concord; James T. Fields, "Song of the Turtle and the
Flamingo"; Oliver Wendell Holmes, "Old Ironsides" and "The Chambered
Nautilus"; John Hay, "The Enchanted Shirt"; Julia Ward Howe, "Battle
Hymn of the Republic"; Bret Harte, "The Reveille" and "A Greyport
Legend"; T. W. Higginson, "The Snowing of the Pines"; H. W. Longfellow,
"The Wreck of the Hesperus," "The Psalm of Life," "Home Song," "The
Three Kings," and "The Harvest Moon"; James Russell Lowell,
"Washington," extracts from "The Vision of Sir Launfal," "The
Fatherland," "To the Dandelion," "The Singing Leaves," and "Stanzas on
Freedom"; Lucy Larcom, "Hannah Binding Shoes"; Edna Dean Proctor,
"Columbia's Emblem"; T. W. Parsons, "Dirge for One Who Fell in Battle";
E. C. Stedman, "The Flight of the Birds" and "Going A-Nutting"; E. R.
Sill, "Opportunity"; W. W. Story, "The English Language"; Celia
Thaxter, "The Sandpiper" and "Nikolina"; J | 50.657657 |
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MARGARET CAPEL.
A NOVEL.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
"THE CLANDESTINE MARRIAGE."
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1846.
LONDON:
Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
MARGARET CAPEL.
CHAPTER I.
For not to think of what I need's must feel,
But to be still and patient all I can,
And haply, by abstruse research, to steal
From my own nature all the natural man:
This was my sole resource, my only plan.
COLERIDGE.
And time, that mirrors on its stream aye flowing
Hope's starry beam, despondency's dark shade;
Green early leaves, flowers in warm sunshine blowing,
Boughs by sharp winter's breath all leafless made.
ANON.
Margaret remained for more than a year in the most perfect retirement.
The solitude of Ashdale was nothing to that of Mrs. Fitzpatrick's
cottage. This tranquillity was well adapted to her state of feeling:
she never experienced a wish to interrupt it. She was sincerely attached
to her hostess. Although reserved, Mrs. Fitzpatrick was even-tempered;
and she became very fond of Margaret, whose society filled up such a
painful blank in her home. Both had suffered much, though neither ever
alluded to her sufferings: and sorrow is always a bond of union. When
first she came to Mrs. Fitzpatrick's, her health was so delicate, that
the poor lady feared she was to go through a second ordeal, similar to
the one she had lately submitted to with her own child. Margaret had a
terrible cough and frequent pain in the side, and whenever Mrs.
Fitzpatrick saw her pause on her way down stairs with her hand pressed
on her heart, or heard the well-known and distressing sound of the
cough, the memory of her daughter was almost too painfully renewed. But
Mr. Lindsay pronounced the cough to be nervous, and the pain in the side
nothing of any consequence; and though winter was stealing on, his
opinion was borne out by Margaret's rapid amendment.
Circumstances had long taught Margaret to suffer in silence: she found
then no difficulty in assuming a composure of manner that she did not
always feel; and soon the healing effects of repose and time were
visible in her demeanour. The loss of her uncle was become a softened
grief--for her other sorrow, she never named it even to herself. Yet
still if any accident suggested to her heart the name of Mr. Haveloc, it
would be followed by a sudden shock, as though a dagger had been plunged
into it. She could not bear to think of him, and it was a comfort to be
in a place where she was never likely to hear him named.
And in the beautiful country, among those fading woods, on that
irregular and romantic shore, was to be found the surest antidote for
all that she had endured--for all she might still suffer. In the soft,
yet boisterous autumn wind--in the swell of the mighty waves--in the
fresh breath, ever wafted over their foam, there was health for the
body, there was peace to the mind. The scenery was so delightful that
she was never tired of rambling--and so secluded, that there was no harm
in rambling alone. And though a beauty, and by no means a portionless
one, she found means to pass her time without an adventure, unless the
vague admiration entertained for her by a young coxcomb who was reading
for college with the clergyman, might deserve that name.
This youth, not being very skilful in shooting the sea-gulls, had
nothing on earth to do except to make love to the first pretty woman he
might encounter | 50.741785 |
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ADVENTURES AND LETTERS
OF
RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
EDITED BY
CHARLES BELMONT DAVIS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE EARLY DAYS
II. COLLEGE DAYS
III. FIRST NEWSPAPER EXPERIENCES
IV. NEW YORK
V. FIRST TRAVEL ARTICLES
VI. THE MEDITERRANEAN AND PARIS
VII. FIRST PLAYS
VIII. CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICA
IX. MOSCOW, BUDAPEST, LONDON
X. CAMPAIGNING IN CUBA, AND GREECE
XI. THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR
XII. THE BOER WAR
XIII. THE SPANISH AND ENGLISH CORONATIONS
XIV. THE JAPANESE-RUSSIAN WAR
XV. MOUNT KISCO
XVI. THE CONGO
XVII. A LONDON WINTER
XVIII. MILITARY MANOEUVRES
XIX. VERA CRUZ AND THE GREAT WAR
XX. THE LAST DAYS
CHAPTER I
THE EARLY DAYS
Richard Harding Davis was born in Philadelphia on April 18, 1864, but,
so far as memory serves me, his life and mine began together several
years later in the three-story brick house on South Twenty-first
Street, to which we had just moved. For more than forty years this was
our home in all that the word implies, and I do not believe that there
was ever a moment when it was not the predominating influence in
Richard's life and in his work. As I learned in later years, the house
had come into the possession of my father and mother after a period on
their part of hard endeavor and unusual sacrifice. It was their
ambition to add to this home not only the comforts and the beautiful
inanimate things of life, but to create an atmosphere which would prove
a constant help to those who lived under its roof--an inspiration to
their children that should endure so long as they lived. At the time
of my brother's death the fact was frequently commented upon that,
unlike most literary folk, he had never known what it was to be poor
and to suffer the pangs of hunger and failure. That he never suffered
from the lack of a home was certainly as true as that in his work he
knew but little of failure, for the first stories he wrote for the
magazines brought him into a prominence and popularity that lasted
until the end. But if Richard gained his success early in life and was
blessed with a very lovely home to which he could always return, he was
not brought up in a manner which in any way could be called lavish.
Lavish he may have been in later years, but if he was it was with the
money for which those who knew him best knew how very hard he had
worked.
In a general way, I cannot remember that our life as boys differed in
any essential from that of other boys. My brother went to the
Episcopal Academy and his weekly report never failed to fill the whole
house with an impenetrable gloom and ever-increasing fears as to the
possibilities of his future. At school and at college Richard was, to
say the least, an indifferent student. And what made this undeniable
fact so annoying, particularly to his teachers, was that morally he
stood so very high. To "crib," to lie, or in any way to cheat or to do
any unworthy act was, I believe, quite beyond his understanding.
Therefore, while his constant lack of interest in his studies goaded
his teachers to despair, when it came to a question of stamping out
wrongdoing on the part of the student body he was invariably found
aligned on the side of the faculty. Not that Richard in any way
resembled a prig or was even, so far as I know, ever so considered by
the most reprehensible of his fellow students. He was altogether too
red-blooded for that, and I believe the students whom he antagonized
rather admired his chivalric point of honor even if they failed to
imitate it. As a schoolboy he was aggressive, radical, outspoken,
fearless, usually of the opposition and, indeed, often the sole member
of his own party. Among the students at the several schools he
attended he had but few intimate friends; but of the various little
groups of which he happened to be a member his aggressiveness and his
imagination usually made him the leader. As far back as I can
remember, Richard was always starting something--usually a new club or
a violent reform movement. And in school or college, as in all the
other walks of life, the reformer must, of necessity, lead a somewhat
tempestuous, if happy, existence. The following letter, written to his
father when Richard was a | 50.894221 |
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THE
FIVE GIANTS.
[Illustration]
New-York:
LANE & TIPPETT,
FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION OF THE
METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
200 Mulberry-street.
[Illustration]
THE
FIVE GIANTS.
[Illustration]
REVISED BY D. P. KIDDER.
New-York:
PUBLISHED BY LANE & TIPPETT,
FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION OF THE METHODIST
EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 200 MULBERRY-ST.
Joseph Longking, Printer.
1847.
THE FIVE GIANTS.
When I was a boy, few things pleased me better than to hear a tale about
a giant. Silly and untrue as were the stories that I heard, they vastly
delighted me; but were you now to ask what information they gave me, or
what good I gathered from them, sadly should I be at fault for a reply.
But if a tale about giants, that was not true, and that added nothing
to my knowledge, amused me, why should not a story about giants, which
is true, and which gives good information, be equally entertaining to
you? I see no reason why it should not be so, and therefore it is my
determination to tell you the tale of the Five Giants.
Three of the five giants are old, so very old that you would hardly
believe me were I to tell you their ages; and the other two are much
older than many people imagine; but, notwithstanding the great age of
these giants, their strength is not in the least impaired. They can
travel as fast and do quite as much work as they ever did in their
youthful days.
By and by you shall know the real names of these five giants; but it
will answer my purpose better, and give you, perhaps, quite as much
entertainment, if, at first, I name them according to my fancy. The
three old giants, Flare, Roar, and Blow, are known in every part of the
world; but the two younger, Bounce and Rush, have not, as yet, traveled
quite as far as their brothers. For the most part, all five of them are
useful characters; but if once they are in a passion, and this is too
often the case, the sooner you are out of their way the better.
Giant Flare is somewhat yellow in complexion, with red hair, and has
many good and companionable qualities; indeed, in the winter, when
people like to gather round the friendly hearth, he is one of the most
agreeable creatures in the world. No wonder, then, that he should be so
much sought after. He is invited by the prince and the peasant, and
accepts the invitation of both freely, so that on the same day he is to
be seen in the poorest cot and the proudest palace.
But besides his companionable qualities, Giant Flare is a capital cook,
so much so, that he has been employed by all the crowned heads in all
the quarters of the world. He is very useful in mining operations, and
in smelting ore; and then, as a manufacturer, he is quite at home, being
equally skilled in making a copper saucepan, a brass warming-pan, a
silver snuff-box, and a golden sovereign.
You will begin to think well of Giant Flare; but truth is truth, and, as
I told you, all the five giants are sad fellows when in a passion. Giant
Flare has many a time burst out into a perfect frenzy, and done
mischief that could never be repaired. If he is not used well, he thinks
nothing of burning a person's house down. He has been the means of
destroying many fine forests, and, on one occasion, when in London, to
his disgrace be it spoken, with the assistance of one of his brothers,
Giant Blow, he set almost a hundred churches and as many as thirteen
thousand houses all in a blaze.
When Bonaparte set out to conquer Russia, Giant Flare resisted him, and
would not let him go further than Moscow; and when the Spanish Armada
invaded England, he boldly attacked the Spanish ships, and was one of
the principal means of scattering and putting them to flight. But | 50.908333 |
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Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading
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RECITATIONS
FOR THE SOCIAL CIRCLE.
SELECTED AND ORIGINAL.
[Illustration]
BY
JAMES CLARENCE HARVEY.
PUBLISHED BY
THE CHRISTIAN HERALD.
LOUIS KLOPSCH, Proprietor,
BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK.
Copyright, 1896.
BY LOUIS KLOPSCH.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
In reading and recitation, the general tendency is to overdo. The quiet
reserve force, which can be made apparent in the voice, will reach the
heart and stir the soul when gesture and ranting fail. "Be bold! Be not too
bold" should be the watchwords of the reciter. Self-possession, with a
nervousness arising from an earnest desire to please, is the keynote to
success. Never gesticulate if you can help it. When a gesture asserts
itself to such an extent that you have made it before you realize it, be
sure it was effective and graceful.
It is a noble ambition to wish to sway the hearts and minds of others by
the subtle modulations of the voice, and only he who feels the force of
what he utters can hope to accomplish his end. The thought of the author
must be pursued and overtaken. The sentiments between the lines must be
enlisted before the voice will lend itself, in all its glorious power, to
the tones that thrill and the music that charms.
It is not always necessary to search for something your audience has never
heard. It is far better to reveal hidden thought and new life in selections
which are familiar. The hackneyed recitation, if rendered better than ever
before, will win more applause than a fresh bit carelessly studied.
Above all, use judgment in selection. The stout lady of fifty | 50.995179 |
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Produced by Al Haines
CARRY ON!
By VIRNA SHEARD
PUBLISHED UNDER THE DISTINGUISHED
PATRONAGE OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER
OF THE DAUGHTERS OF THE
EMPIRE IN AID OF THE
RED CROSS
TORONTO:
WARWICK BROS. & RUTTER, LIMITED
1917
COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1917
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We acknowledge with thanks the kindness of _The Globe_, Toronto, for
permission to use Carry On, The Young Knights, The Watcher, October
Goes, Dreams, The Cry, A War Chant, To One Who Sleeps, The Requiem and
The Lament, to _Saturday Night_, Toronto, for permission to use Before
the Dawn, and to _The Canadian Magazine_ for permission to use When
Jonquils Blow. The other poems have not hitherto been published.
CONTENTS
Carry On
The Young Knights
The Shells
The Watcher
October Goes
Dreams
Before the Dawn
Crosses
The Cry
A War Chant
When Jonquils Blow
To One Who Sleeps
The Sea
Comrades
Requiem
Lament
CARRY ON!
That all freedom may abide
Carry on!
For the brave who fought and died,
Carry on!
England's flag so long adored
Is the banner of the Lord--
His the cannon--His the sword--
Carry on, and on! Carry on!
Through the night of death and tears,
Carry on!
Through the hour that scars and sears,
Carry on!
Legions in the flame-torn sky,--
Armies that go reeling by,--
Only once can each man die;
Carry on!
For the things you count the best,
Carry on!
Take love with you,--leave the rest--
Carry on!
Though the fight be short or long,
Men of ours--O dear and strong--
Yours will be the Victor's song,
Carry on--and on! Carry on!
THE YOUNG KNIGHTS
Now they remain to us forever young
Who with such splendor gave their youth away;
Perpetual Spring is their inheritance,
Though they have lived in Flanders and in France
A round of years, in one remembered day.
They drained life's goblet as a joyous draught
And left within the cup no bitter lees.
Sweetly they answered to the King's behest,
And gallantly fared forth upon a quest,
Beset by foes on land and on the seas.
So in the ancient world hath bloomed again
The rose of old romance--red as of yore;
The flower of high emprise hath whitely blown
Above the graves of those we call our own,
And we will know its fragrance evermore.
Now if their deeds were written with the stars,
In golden letters on the midnight sky
They would not care. They were so young, and dear,
They loved the best the things that were most near,
And gave no thought to glory far and high.
They need no shafts of marble pure and cold--
No painted windows radiantly bright;
Across our hearts their names are carven deep--
In waking dreams, and in the dreams of sleep,
They bring us still ineffable delight.
Methinks heaven's gates swing open very wide
To welcome in a host so fair and strong;
Perchance the unharmed angels as they sing,
May envy these the battle-scars they bring,
And sigh e'er they take up the triumph song!
THE SHELLS
O my brave heart! O my strong heart! My sweet heart and gay,
The soul of me went with you the hour you marched away,
For surely she is soulless, this woman white, and still,
Who works with shining metal to make the things that kill.
I tremble as I touch them,--so strange they are, and bright;
Each one will be a comet to break the purple night.
Grey Fear will ride before it, and Death will ride behind,
The sound of it will deafen,--the light of it will blind!
And whom it meets in passing, but God alone will know;
Each one will blaze a trail in blood--will hew a road of woe;
O when the fear is on me, my heart grows faint and cold:--
I dare not think of what I do,--of what my fingers hold.
Then sounds a Voice, "Arise, and make the weapons of the Lord!"
"He rides upon the whirlwind! He hath need of shell and sword!
His army is a mighty host--the lovely and the strong,--
They follow Him to battle, with trumpet and with Song!"
O my brave heart! My strong heart! My sweet heart and dear,--
'Tis not for me to | 51.121242 |
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NORMANDY:
THE SCENERY & ROMANCE OF ITS ANCIENT TOWNS:
DEPICTED BY GORDON HOME
Part 3.
CHAPTER VII
Concerning Mont St Michel
So, when their feet were planted on the plain
That broaden'd toward the base of Camelot,
Far off they saw the silver-misty morn
Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount,
That rose between the forest and the field.
At times the summit of the high city flash'd;
At times the spires and turrets half-way down
Pricked through the mist; at times the great gate shone
Only, that open'd on the field below:
Anon, the whole fair city disappeared.
Tennyson's _Gareth and Lynette_
"The majestic splendour of this gulf, its strategetic importance, have at
all times attracted the attention of warriors." In this quaint fashion
commences the third chapter of a book upon Mont St Michel which is to be
purchased in the little town. We have already had a glimpse of the
splendour of the gulf from Avranches, but there are other aspects of the
rock which are equally impressive. They are missed by all those who,
instead of going by the picturesque and winding coast-road from
Pontaubault, take the straight and dusty _route nationale_ to Pontorson,
and then turn to follow the tramway that has in recent years been extended
along the causeway to the mount itself. If one can manage to make it a
rather late ride along the coast-road just mentioned, many beautiful
distant views of Mont St Michel, backed by sunset lights, will be an ample
reward. Even on a grey and almost featureless evening, when the sea is
leaden-hued, there may, perhaps, appear one of those thin crimson lines
that are the last efforts of the setting sun. This often appears just
behind the grey and dim rock, and the crimson is reflected in a delicate
tinge upon the glistening sands. Tiny rustic villages, with churches humble
and unobtrusive, and prominent calvaries, are passed one after the other.
At times the farmyards seem to have taken the road into their own hands,
for a stone well-head will appear almost in the roadway, and chickens,
pigs, and a litter of straw have to be allowed for by those who ride or
drive along this rural way. When the rock is still some distance off, the
road seems to determine to take a short cut across the sands, but thinking
better of it, it runs along the outer margin of the reclaimed land, and
there is nothing to prevent the sea from flooding over the road at its own
discretion. Once on the broad and solidly constructed causeway, the rock
rapidly gathers in bulk and detail. It has, indeed, as one approaches, an
almost fantastic and fairy-like outline. Then as more and more grows from
the hazy mass, one sees that this remarkable place has a crowded and much
embattled loneliness. Two round towers, sturdy and boldly machicolated,
appear straight ahead, but oddly enough the wall between them has no
opening of any sort, and the stranger is perplexed at the inhospitable
curtain-wall that seems to refuse him admittance to the mediaeval delights
within. It almost heightens the impression that the place belongs
altogether to dreamland, for in that shadowy world all that is most
desirable is so often beyond the reach of the dreamer. It is a very
different impression that one gains if the steam train has been taken, for
its arrival is awaited by a small crowd of vulture-like servants and
porters from the hotels. The little crowd treats the incoming train-load of
tourists as its carrion, and one has no time to notice whether there is a
gateway or not before being swept along the sloping wooden staging that
leads to the only entrance. The simple archway in the outer wall leads into
the Cour de l'Avancee where those two great iron cannons, mentioned in an
earlier chapter, are conspicuous objects. They were captured by the heroic
garrison when the English, in 1433, made their last great effort to obtain
possession of the rock. Beyond these, one passes through the barbican to
the Cour de la Herse, which is largely occupied by the Hotel Poulard Aine.
Then one passes through the Porte du Roi, and enters the town proper. The
narrow little street is flanked by many an old house that has seen most of
the vicissitudes that the little island city has suffered. In fact many of
these shops which are now almost entirely given over to the sale of
mementoes and books of photographs of the island, are individually of great
interest. One of the most ancient in the upper part of the street, is
pointed out as that occupied in the fourteenth century by Tiphane de
Raguenel, the wife of the heroic Bertrand du Guesclin.
It is almost impossible for those who are sensitive in such matters, not to
feel some annoyance at the pleasant but persistent efforts of the vendors
of | 51.365096 |
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HORACE CHASE
A Novel
by
CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON
AUTHOR OF "JUPITER LIGHTS" "EAST ANGELS" ETC.
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1894
Copyright, 1894, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._
HORACE CHASE
CHAPTER I
In a mountain village of North Carolina, in the year 1873, the spring
had opened with its accustomed beauty. But one day there came a pure
cold wind which swept through the high valley at tremendous speed from
dawn to midnight. People who never succumb to mere comfort did not
relight their fires. But to the Franklin family comfort was a goddess,
they would never have thought of calling her "mere"; "delightful" was
their word, and Ruth would probably have said "delicious." The fire in
Mrs. Franklin's parlor, therefore, having been piled with fresh logs at
two o'clock as an offering to this deity, was now, at four, sending out
a ruddy glow. It was a fire which called forth Ruth's highest
approbation when she came in, followed by her dog, Petie Trone, Esq. Not
that Ruth had been facing the blast; she never went out from a sense of
duty, and for her there was no pleasure in doing battle with things that
were disagreeable for the sake merely of conquering them. Ruth had come
from her own room, where there was a fire also, but one not so generous
as this, for here the old-fashioned hearth was broad and deep. The girl
sat down on the rug before the blaze, and then, after a moment, she
stretched herself out at full length there, with her head resting on her
arm thrown back behind it.
"It's a pity, Ruth, that with all your little ways, you are not little
yourself," remarked Dolly Franklin, the elder sister. "Such a whalelike
creature sprawled on the floor isn't endearing; it looks like something
out of Gulliver."
"It's always so," observed Mrs. Franklin, drowsily. "It's the oddest
thing in the world--but people never will stay in character; they want
to be something different. Don't you remember that whenever poor Sue
Inness was asked to sing, the wee little creature invariably chanted,
'Here's a health to King Charles,' in as martial a voice as she could
summon? Whereas Lucia Lewis, who is as big as a grenadier, always
warbles softly some such thing as 'Call me pet names, dearest. Call me a
bird.' Bird! Mastodon would do better."
"Mastodon?" Ruth commented. "It is evident, His Grand, that you have
seen Miss Billy to-day!"
Ruth was not a whale, in spite of Dolly's assertion. But she was tall,
her shoulders had a marked breadth, and her arms were long. She was very
slender and supple, and this slenderness, together with her small hands
and feet, took away all idea of majesty in connection with her, tall
though she was; one did not think of majesty, but rather of girlish
merriment and girlish activity. And girlish indolence as well. Mrs.
Franklin had once said: "Ruth is either running, or jumping, or doing
something in such haste that she is breathless; or else she is stretched
out at full length on the carpet or the sofa, looking as though she
never intended to move again!"
The girl had a dark complexion with a rich color, and hair that was
almost black; her face was lighted by blue eyes, with long thick black
lashes which made a dark fringe round the blue. The persons who liked
Ruth thought her beautiful; they asserted that her countenance had in it
something | 51.479026 |
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OXFORD AND HER COLLEGES
[Illustration]
[Illustration: RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.]
OXFORD
AND HER COLLEGES
A View from the Radcliffe Library
BY
GOLDWIN SMITH, D.C.L.
AUTHOR OF "THE UNITED STATES: AN OUTLINE OF
POLITICAL HISTORY," ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS REPRODUCED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
New York
MACMILLAN AND CO.
AND LONDON
1895
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1893,
BY MACMILLAN AND CO.
Norwood Press:
J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
PREFACE.
The writer has seldom enjoyed himself more than in showing an American
friend over Oxford. He has felt something of the same enjoyment in
preparing, with the hope of interesting some American visitors, this
outline of the history of the University and her Colleges. He would
gladly believe that Oxford and Cambridge, having now, by emancipation
and reform, been reunited to the nation, may also be reunited to the
race; and that to them, not less than to the Universities of Germany,
the eyes of Americans desirous of studying at a European as well as at
an American University may henceforth be turned.
It was once the writer's duty, in the service of a Royal Commission of
Inquiry, to make himself well acquainted with the archives of the
University and its Colleges. But he has also availed himself of a number
of recent publications, such as the series of the Oxford Historical
Society, the history of the University by Mr. Maxwell Lyte, and the
volume on the Colleges of Oxford and their traditions, edited by Mr.
Andrew Clark, as well as of the excellent little Guide published by
Messrs. James Parker and Co.
[Illustration]
OXFORD AND HER COLLEGES.
To gain a view of Oxford from a central point, we mount to the top of
the Radcliffe Library. We will hope that it is a fine summer day, that,
as we come out upon the roof, the old city, with all its academical
buildings lying among their gardens and groves, presents itself to view
in its beauty, and that the sound of its bells, awakening the memories
of the ages, is in the air. The city is seen lying on the spit of gravel
between the Isis, as the Thames is here called, which is the scene of
boat races, and the Cherwell, famed for water-lilies. It is doubtful
whether the name means the ford of the oxen, or the ford of the river
(_oxen_ being a corruption of _ousen_). Flat, sometimes flooded, is the
site. To ancient founders of cities, a river for water carriage and rich
meads for kine were prime attractions. But beyond the flat we look to a
lovely country, rolling and sylvan, from many points of which, Wytham,
Hinksey, Bagley, Headington, Elsfield, Stowe Wood, are charming views,
nearer or more distant, of the city. Turner's view is taken from Bagley,
but it is rather a Turner poem than a simple picture of Oxford.
* * * * *
There is in Oxford much that is not as old as it looks. The buildings of
the Bodleian Library, University College, Oriel, Exeter, and some
others, mediaeval or half mediaeval in their style, are | 51.621416 |
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THE ROMANCE _of the_ WOODS
_by_
F. J. WHISHAW.
Author of "_Out of Doors in Tsarland_."
_London,
Longmans Green & Co.
and New York._
1895
_All rights reserved_
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. ON A RUSSIAN MOOR 1
II. IN AMBUSH AT THE LAKE-SIDE 33
III. A DAY AFTER CRAWFISH 55
IV. A FINLAND PARADISE 75
V. AFTER DUCKS ON LADOGA 105
VI. ABOUT BEARS: BY ONE OF THEM 115
VII. THE FOLK-LORE OF THE MOUJIK 185
VIII. THE BEAR THAT DIED OF CURSES 212
IX. AMONG THE WOOD-GOBLINS 232
X. AN UNBAPTIZED SPIRIT 253
XI. A WITCH! A WITCH! 273
THE ROMANCE OF THE WOODS
CHAPTER I
ON A RUSSIAN MOOR
I once had a strange dream. I dreamed that I was dead, and that dying
I suddenly discovered all my preconceived ideas as to the future state
to have been entirely erroneous, at any rate in so far as concerned
such persons as myself--the respectable middle class, so to call it,
of mundane sinners. Had I belonged to the aristocracy of piety and
goodness, which, alas! I did not, or had I occupied a position at the
lower end of the list, other things might have befallen me, better or
worse, as the case deserved; but being, as I say, one of the decently
respectable middle-class sinners, I was shown, in this foolish dream
of mine, into a committee-room marked No. 2, and there informed that
since I was neither very good nor very bad, my present destiny was to
continue to inhabit this planet for a number of years--I forget how
many--not, indeed, in my present corporeal form, but as a spiritual
essence; and that I might select any place this side of the dark
river, the Styx, as my temporary abode, there to live in Nature's
bosom and to assimilate and be assimilated until the simplicity and
beauty of Nature, uncontaminated by man, should have purified me of
all the harmful taints which I had acquired during my terrestrial
existence among fellow-mortals.
And I remember that, in my dream-foolishness, I clasped my hands and
fell on my knees, and with streaming eyes assured the committee of
Mahatmas (for such, in the dream, they appeared to be) that I wished
for no more beautiful heaven than this that they had offered me; and
that I implored them to allow me to stay on for ever in the paradise
they had prepared for me, and never to pass me onward and upward to
attain further joys, however blessed!
And then, in my dream, those Mahatmas flashed their shining eyes at
me (there was very little _but_ eye and flowing cloak about them, I
remember), and said "Silence!" and frightened me thereby out of my
dream-dead wits.
That, they added, was not my affair nor theirs. All I had to do at
present was to make my choice of a place from among those I had best
loved during life, and to do so as quickly as I conveniently could,
because their hands were somewhat full of business this morning, and
they could not spare me more than, at most, five minutes.
I remember that I looked over my shoulder at this and perceived an
innumerable host of persons, all, presumably, in a similar position to
my own, and all ready to take their turns, in strict rotation, before
the committee of Mahatmas in room No. 2; and I could not help
reflecting that the middle-class sinner must indeed be a very large
class, and that I should do wisely to select some rather unfrequented
spot for my future home, lest my domain should be trespassed upon by
other spiritual essences, and my peace marred by--to use a mundane
expression--unseemly rows.
And then I became conscious of a great difficulty in the matter of
this choosing of a place to live in. Picture after picture came up
before my mind's eye, each more fascinatingly beautiful than the
other. There was a lovely little bit of Devonshire coast, and another
shore in Pembrokeshire; there were delicious spots in half the
counties of England--woods, and hedgerows, and rivers, and waving
fields wherein my spiritual being might disport itself in the
contemplation | 51.678347 |
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BELEAGUERED IN
PEKING
THE BOXER’S WAR
AGAINST THE FOREIGNER
BY
ROBERT COLTMAN, JR., M.D.
Professor of Surgery in Imperial University; Professor of Anatomy, the
Imperial Tung Wen Kuan; Surgeon, Imperial Maritime Customs; Surgeon,
Imperial Chinese Railways. Author of “The Chinese, Their Present
and Future: Medical, Political, and Social.”
Illustrated with
Seventy-seven Photo-Engravings
PHILADELPHIA:
F. A. DAVIS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
1901
COPYRIGHT, 1901
BY F. A. DAVIS COMPANY | 51.940252 |
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Uniform with British Orations
AMERICAN ORATIONS, to illustrate American Political
History, edited, with introductions, by ALEXANDER
JOHNSTON, Professor of Jurisprudence and Political
Economy in the College of New Jersey. 3 vols., 16 mo,
$3.75.
PROSE MASTERPIECES FROM MODERN ESSAYISTS, comprising
single specimen essays from IRVING, LEIGH HUNT, LAMB,
DE QUINCEY, LANDOR, SYDNEY SMITH, THACKERAY, EMERSON,
ARNOLD, MORLEY, HELPS, KINGSLEY, RUSKIN, LOWELL,
CARLYLE, MACAULAY, FROUDE, FREEMAN, GLADSTONE,
NEWMAN, LESLIE STEPHEN. 3 vols., 16 mo, bevelled
boards, $3.75 and $4.50.
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON
REPRESENTATIVE
BRITISH ORATIONS
WITH
INTRODUCTIONS AND EXPLANATORY NOTES
BY
CHARLES KENDALL ADAMS.
_Videtisne quantum munus sit oratoris historia?_
—CICERO, _DeOratore_, ii, 15
✩✩✩
NEW YORK & LONDON
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
The Knickerbocker Press
1884
COPYRIGHT
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
1884.
Press of
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
New York
CONTENTS.
PAGE
GEORGE CANNING 1
GEORGE CANNING 13
ON THE POLICY OF GRANTING AID TO PORTUGAL WHEN INVADED
BY SPAIN; HOUSE OF COMMONS, DECEMBER 12, 1826.
LORD MACAULAY 50
LORD MACAULAY 62
ON THE REFORM BILL OF 1832; HOUSE OF COMMONS, MARCH
2, 1831.
RICHARD COBDEN 95
RICHARD COBDEN 109
ON THE EFFECTS OF PROTECTION ON THE AGRICULTURAL INTERESTS
OF THE COUNTRY; HOUSE OF COMMONS, MARCH 13, 1845.
JOHN BRIGHT 155
JOHN BRIGHT 159
ON THE FOREIGN POLICY OF ENGLAND; DELIVERED AT A BANQUET
GIVEN IN HONOR OF MR. BRIGHT, AT BIRMINGHAM,
OCTOBER 29, 1858.
LORD BEACONSFIELD 204
LORD BEACONSFIELD 216
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE CONSERVATIVE PARTY; DELIVERED
AT MANCHESTER, APRIL 3, 1872.
WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE 277
WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE 287
ON DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS; DELIVERED AT WEST
CALDER, NOVEMBER 27, 1879.
GEORGE CANNING.
The subject of this sketch was born in London in 1770. When he was only
one year old, the death of his father threw the responsibility of his
training and education upon his mother. Dependent upon her own energies
for the support of herself and her child, she at first established
a small school in London, and a little later fitted herself for the
stage, where she achieved considerable success.
As soon as George entered school, he began to show remarkable
proficiency in the study of Latin and Greek, as well as in English | 52.12022 |
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A LETTER TO A
Gentleman in the Country,
FROM
His Friend in LONDON:
Giving an
Authentick and circumstantial Account of
the Confinement, Behaviour, and Death of
ADMIRAL BYNG,
As attested by the Gentlemen who were present.
_Mens conscia Recti._
LONDON:
Printed for and sold by J. LACY, the Corner of
St. Martin's-Court, St. Martin's-Lane, near
Leicester-Fields. MDCCLVII.
[Price One Shilling.]
_Just published, and sold by_ J. Lacy, _at the Corner of_ St.
Martin's-Court, St. Martin's-Lane, _near_ Leicester-Fields.
I. Further Particulars in Relation to the Case of Admiral Byng, from
original Papers, by a Gentleman of Oxford. Price one Shilling.
II. A Collection of several Pamphlets very little known: Some suppressed
Letters, and sundry detached Pieces, relative to the Case of Admiral Byng.
Price one Shilling and Six-pence.
III. A further Address to the Publick; containing genuine Copies of all
the Letters which passed between Admiral Byng and the S------y of the
Ad----ty, from the Time of his Suspension to the 25th of October last.
Price one Shilling.
IV. The whole and genuine Trial of Admiral Byng, two Volumes Octavo. N. B.
For the better understanding of which, five curious Prints are added,
which exhibit the different Positions of both Fleets, before, at, and
after the Engagement. Price five Shillings.
V. Admiral Byng's Defence as presented by him, and read in the Court
Martial, on Board his Majesty's Ship St. George in Portsmouth-Harbour,
January, 18. 1757. Price Six-pence.
N. B. Most Money for any Library or Parcel of Books; Books elegantly
bound; and Gentlemen's Libraries gilt, or lettered, methodiz'd, and
Catalogues written either in Town or Country.
A LETTER TO A
Gentleman in the Country,
FROM
His Friend in LONDON, _&c._
DEAR SIR,
Agreeable to your request, I have taken great pains to collect all the
particulars, relating to the behaviour and death of the unfortunate
ADMIRAL BYNG.
You know me sufficiently, to be satisfied that I have never had any biass
in his favour, or against him. But as the whole affair has been laid
before the publick, sufficiently plain for every man of common sense, not
prejudiced, to understand it; excepting some _inexplicable_ Circumstances
relating to the _Court Martial_; I may be allowed to judge for myself, and
yield to truths which I think can admit of no farther controversy.
It is true, there are yet _sophisters_, who want to _impose_ upon us; but
I think their designs are easily seen through. It is impossible that any
impartial man should fail to observe the almost incredible pains taken to
misrepresent and blacken his publick and private character. Even now,
after he has paid the forfeit of his _life_, for _crimes_, at most, only
_disputably so_, there are a great number of emissaries, who seem to make
it their business to go from one coffee-house to another, spreading the
most scandalous reports with regard to his death. _Dying Speeches_,
containing the most _infamous absurdities_, have been imposed upon the
publick, with several booksellers names prefixed in the title-page, in
order to give them the air of authenticity.
For what end and purposes all these measures have been taken, they can
best tell, who have always been, and still continue so indefatigably
industrious. But I must confess they greatly raise my indignation; and I
am at last fully persuaded, _hidden political machinery_ has been employed
against this unfortunate gentleman. Our friend _D----_ says, _cunning
heads, black hearts, and long purses_. Indeed, I think it appears very
evident, that some persons are very active and solicitous to _load him_
with ignominious crimes, with a view _to exculpate themselves_, or others;
to render him odious in the eyes of the people, that his fall may be
unlamented. But can a generous nation, like this, where understanding
abounds, accept of his blood for the crimes of any other? surely, it
cannot be.
I believe you will agree with me in thinking, that the Admiral's behaviour
before and at the time of his death; his observations and conversation
with his friends; together with the paper containing his thoughts on the
occasion, wrote by himself, and signed, which he gave to the Marshal of
the Admiralty, immediately before the sentence passed upon him was put in
execution; must hereafter be his best APOLOGY, EXCULPATION, and ENCOMIUM;
must reflect honour upon his family, and be an _indelible reproach to some
of our cotemporaries_; who have practised every _wicked artifice, to
deceive and spirit up the people_, and to throw a mist over the whole of
this transaction.
Without any farther preamble, I shall proceed to give you a relation of
the particulars, as they are ascertained to me, by the concurring
testimony of gentlemen who were upon the spot; whose veracity cannot be
doubted, and whose authority to vouch them again, may be easily obtained.
As you have critically perused the trial and sentence, I presume you will
be pleased with some particulars as far back as the time of passing the
sentence.
On _Thursday_ the | 52.227631 |
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MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT AND OF THE REGENCY
BY THE DUKE OF SAINT-SIMON
VOLUME 7.
CHAPTER XLVII
The death of D'Avaux, who had formerly been our ambassador in Holland,
occurred in the early part of this year (1709). D'Avaux was one of the
first to hear of the project of William of Orange upon England, when that
project was still only in embryo, and kept profoundly secret. He
apprised the King (Louis XIV.) of it, but was laughed at. Barillon, then
our ambassador in England, was listened to in preference. He, deceived
by Sunderland and the other perfidious ministers of James II.; assured
our Court that D'Avaux's reports were mere chimeras. It was not until it
was impossible any longer to doubt that credit was given to them. The
steps that we then took, instead of disconcerting all the measures of the
conspirators, as we could have done, did not interfere with the working
out of any one of their plans. All liberty was left, in fact, to William
to carry out his scheme. The anecdote which explains how this happened
is so curious, that it deserves to be mentioned here.
Louvois, who was then Minister of War, was also superintendent of the
buildings. The King, who liked building, and who had cast off all his
mistresses, had pulled down the little porcelain Trianon he had made for
Madame de Montespan, and was rebuilding it in the form it still retains.
One day he perceived, for his glance was most searching, that one window
was a trifle narrower than the others. He showed it to Louvois, in order
that it might be altered, which, as it was not then finished, was easy to
do. Louvois sustained that the window was all right. The King insisted
then, and on the morrow also, but Louvois, pigheaded and inflated with
his authority, would not yield.
The next day the King saw Le Notre in the gallery. Although his trade
was gardens rather than houses, the King did not fail to consult him upon
the latter. He asked him if he had been to Trianon. Le Notre replied
that he had not. The King ordered him to go. On the morrow he saw Le
Notre again; same question, same answer. The King comprehended the
reason of this, and a little annoyed, commanded him to be there that
afternoon at a given time. Le Notre did not dare to disobey this time.
The King arrived, and Louvois being present, they returned to the subject
of the window, which Louvois obstinately said was as broad as the rest.
The King wished Le Notre to measure it, for he knew that, upright and
true, he would openly say what he found. Louvois, piqued, grew angry.
The King, who was not less so, allowed him to say his say. Le Notre,
meanwhile, did not stir. At last, the King made him go, Louvois still
grumbling, and maintaining his assertion with audacity and little
measure. Le Notre measured the window, and said that the King was right
by several inches. Louvois still wished to argue, but the King silenced
him, and commanded him to see that the window was altered at once,
contrary to custom abusing him most harshly.
What annoyed Louvois most was, that this scene passed not only before all
the officers of the buildings, but in presence of all who followed the
King in his promenades, nobles, courtiers, officers of the guard, and
others, even all the rolete. The dressing given to Louvois was smart and
long, mixed with reflections upon the fault of this window, which, not
noticed so soon, might have spoiled all the facade, and compelled it to
be re-built.
Louvois, who was not accustomed to be thus treated, returned home in
fury, and like a man in despair. His familiars were frightened, and in
their disquietude angled to learn what had happened. At last he told
them, said he was lost, and that for a few inches the King forgot all his
services, which had led to so many conquests; he declared that henceforth
he would leave the trowel to the King, bring about a war, and so arrange
matters that the King should have good need of him!
He soon kept his word. He caused a war to grow out of the affair of the
double election of Cologne, of the Prince of Bavaria, and of the Cardinal
of Furstenberg; he confirmed it in carrying the flames into the
Palatinate, and in leaving, as I have said, all liberty to the project
upon England; he put the finishing touch to his work by forcing the Duke
of Savoy into the arms of his enemies, and making him become, by the
position of his country, our enemy, the most | 52.248622 |
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Transcriber's note
Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Printer
errors have been changed and are listed at the end. All other
inconsistencies are as in the original.
Characters that could not be displayed directly in Latin-1 are
transcribed as follows:
_ - Italics
^ - superscript
DOROTHY PAYNE
_QUAKERESS_
[Illustration: Dorothy Payne Todd.
Courtesy of Miss Lucia B. Cutts.]
Dorothy Payne, Quakeress
_A Side-Light upon the Career
of "Dolly" Madison_
By ELLA KENT BARNARD
Philadelphia:
FERRIS & LEACH
29 SOUTH SEVENTH ST.
1909
Dedicated to
ANNIE MATTHEWS KENT
FOREWORD
There is little time in this busy world of ours for reading,--little,
indeed, for thinking;--and there are already many books; but perhaps
these few additional pages relating to Dolly Madison, who was loved and
honored during so many years by our people, may be not altogether amiss.
During eleven administrations she was the intimate friend of our
presidents and their families. What a rare privilege was hers--to be at
home in the families of Washington, of Jefferson, of Madison, of Monroe;
to know intimately Hamilton and Burr and Clay and Webster; to live so
close, during her long life, to the heart of our nation; to be swayed by
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Transcriber's notes:
(1) Numbers following letters (without space) like C2 were originally
printed in subscript. Letter subscripts are preceded by an
underscore, like C_n.
(2) Characters following a carat (^) were printed in superscript.
(3) Side-notes were relocated to function as titles of their respective
paragraphs.
(4) Macrons and breves above letters and dots below letters were not
inserted.
(5) [root] stands for the root symbol, [oo] for infinity, and [alpha],
[beta], etc. for greek letters.
(6) The following typographical errors have been corrected:
ARTICLE GYROSCOPE AND GYROSTAT: "... in such a manner that a point
on the pendulum at a distance..." ''pendulum'' amended from
''pedulum''.
ARTICLE GYROSCOPE AND GYROSTAT: "Interpreted geometrically on the
deformable hyperboloid, flattened in the plane of the focal ellipse
..." ''hyperboloid'' amended from ''hyperboloia''.
ARTICLE HAEMOSPORIDIA: "... this does not represent reserve
material, but is an excreted by-product derived from the
haemoglobin." ''by-product'' amended from ''bye-product''.
ARTICLE HALIFAX, GEORGE MONTAGU DUNK: "About this time he sought to
become a secretary of state, but in vain, although he was allowed
to enter the cabinet in 1757." ''become'' amended from ''became''.
ARTICLE HALLEFLINTA: "Rocks very similar to the typical Swedish
halleflintas occur in Tirol, in Galicia and eastern Bohemia."
''similar'' amended from ''similiar?''.
ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA
A DICTIONARY OF ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE
AND GENERAL INFORMATION
ELEVENTH EDITION
VOLUME XII, SLICE VII
Gyantse to Hallel
ARTICLES IN THIS SLICE:
GYANTSE HAHNEMANN, SAMUEL CHRISTIAN FRIEDRICH
GYGES HAHN-HAHN, IDA
GYLIPPUS HAI
GYLLEMBOURG-EHRENSVARD, CHRISTINE HAIBAK
GYLLENSTJERNA, JOHAN HAIDA
GYMKHANA HAIDINGER, WILHELM KARL
GYMNASTICS AND GYMNASIUM HAIDUK
GYMNOSOPHISTS HAIFA
GYMNOSPERMS HAIK
GYMNOSTOMACEAE HAIL
GYMPIE HAILES, DAVID DALRYMPLE
GYNAECEUM HAILSHAM
GYNAECOLOGY HAINAN
GYONGYOSI, ISTVAN HAINAU
GYOR HAINAUT
GYP HAINBURG
GYPSUM HAINICHEN
GYROSCOPE AND GYROSTAT HAI-PHONG
GYTHIUM HAIR
GYULA-FEHERVAR HAIR-TAIL
H HAITI
HAAG, CARL HAJIPUR
HAAKON HAJJ
HAARLEM HAJJI KHALIFA
HAARLEM LAKE HAKE, EDWARD
HAASE, FRIEDRICH HAKE, THOMAS GORDON
HAASE, FRIEDRICH GOTTLOB HAKE
HAAST | 52.883306 |
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STARRY FLAG SERIES
OLIVER OPTIC
[Illustration: THE WRECK OF THE CARIBBEE.--Page 273.]
FREAKS OF FORTUNE;
OR,
HALF ROUND THE WORLD.
BY
OLIVER OPTIC,
AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," "THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES,"
"THE WOODVILLE STORIES," "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES,"
"THE RIVERDALE STORIES," ETC.
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS | 53.143328 |
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Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
[Illustration: Florence Morse Kingsley]
STEPHEN
A SOLDIER OF THE CROSS
By
FLORENCE MORSE KINGSLEY
Author of Titus
TORONTO:
WILLIAM BRIGGS, WESLEY BUILDINGS.
C. W. COATES, MONTREAL, QUE.
S. F. HUESTIS, HALIFAX, N.S.
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one
thousand eight hundred and ninety-six, by WILLIAM BRIGGS, at the
Department of Agriculture.
PREFACE.
There are those who have asked me to write this book. There may be
others who shall question me because I have written it. "Assuredly,"
these will cry out, "it is justly forbidden to ascribe words and deeds
of one's own devising to them which have been set forever apart in the
pages of the Book of books. The pen of inspiration has written of
Stephen all that God wills us to know of him, therefore let us be
content."
It is true that the story of Stephen is little known; scarcely for a
single day does the light shine clearly upon him, and that day the last
of his mortal life. A tale is told of ancient alchemists, how that they
possessed the power of resurrecting from the ashes of a perished flower
a dim ghost of the flower itself. In like manner, may not one gather
the fragrant dust of this vanished life from out the writings and
legends of past ages, and from it build anew some faint image of its
forgotten beauty?
Surely in these days, when the imagination hurries to and fro on the
earth, delving amid all that is low and evil and noisome for some new
panacea wherewith to deaden, if only for a moment, the feverish pain in
the hearts of men, it were a good thing to lift up the eyes of the soul
to the contemplation of those days when the memory of the living Jesus
was yet fresh in the hearts of His followers; when His voice still
echoed in their ears; when the glory of the cloud which had received Him
out of their sight lingered with transfiguring splendor on all the
commonplace happenings of their daily lives; when the words, "Lo, I am
with you alway, even unto the end," meant a living presence all
comforting, all powerful.
We are wont to look longingly back through the dark mists of the ages
and sigh, "Oh, that I had known Him as they knew Him! But in these
hard, grey days there is no glory that shines, no voice that speaks, no
ecstatic vision of the Son of Man standing at the right hand of power."
Yet had we lived in those days the life which many of us live to-day,
going to church and to prayer because such attendance is a Christian
duty; giving of our abundance to the poor because our neighbors will
marvel if we withhold; and for the rest, living as those before the
flood, and since also--eating and drinking, and making such poor
merriment as we are able in a life which was given us for another
purpose--had we lived thus in those far-off days, would the Pentecostal
flames have descended upon us? Could the crucified One have said unto
us, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end?" Would we not rather
have cried out in terror and fled away from the light of those sad eyes
into darkness, even as did Peter after that he had denied with curses.
There is an Apostolic Church in the world to-day. To-day Christ is on
earth and walks with men. To-day the Spirit works mightily as of old;
the blind see, the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up. But it is not
alone in splendid temple, nor amid the solemn pomp of churchly
magnificence that these things are being accomplished, but in the humble
upper rooms where the good soldiers of the Salvation Army, and the
workers | 53.17204 |
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Cooper and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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Transcriber's Note: Every attempt has been made to replicate the
original as printed; therefore, numerous inconsistencies in spelling,
diacritical marks, etc., have not been reconciled. However, all
spelling changes listed in the Corrigenda have been made in this
etext.
WORKS ISSUED BY
The Hakluyt Society.
THE CONQUEST
OF
THE RIVER PLATE.
FIRST SERIES. NO. LXXXI-MDCCCXCI
THE CONQUEST
OF
THE RIVER PLATE
(1535-1555).
I.
VOYAGE OF ULRICH SCHMIDT TO THE RIVERS LA
PLATA AND PARAGUAI.
_FROM THE ORIGINAL GERMAN EDITION, | 53.563248 |
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* * * * *
Punch, or the London Charivari
Volume 105, November 18th 1893
_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_
* * * * *
"THE PAPER OF THE DAY AFTER TO-MORROW."
[In one of the magazines an entire article has been
transmitted to the office, not by the post, but by mental
suggestion.--_News paragraph._]
SCENE--_Editor's Room of "The Mental Mirror of the Universe."_
TIME--_An hour before publication._ Editor _and_ Chief-Sub.
_discovered in consultation_.
_Editor._ Dear me, Mr. PAYSTE, this is very annoying! Debate on Africa
in the House to-night, and our leader-writer has sent in no copy! Why
did you not communicate with me?
_Chief-Sub._ Well, Sir, as you were dining with the Duke, I did not
like to disturb you, especially as I had arranged matters. I have got
some one else to knock off the article.
_Ed._ Very good, and where does it come from?
_Chief-Sub._ I turned on the mentophone and found Lord MACAULAY
disengaged.
_Ed._ Of course he writes smartly enough, but I should have thought he
was scarcely sufficiently well-up in the subject.
_Chief-Sub._ So he said, Sir: so we applied to Sir WALTER RALEIGH, who
has sent in a good column.
_Ed._ His English, I am afraid, is a trifle old-fashioned.
_Chief Sub._ Well, yes, Sir; a little. But I gave it to one of our
subs. who has made black letter a study, and between them they have
turned out a very decent leader. Sorry to say the wire has broken down
between London and the seat of the war, so we have no despatches.
_Ed._ Distinctly annoying! However, I think I can put myself in
communication with our special. (_Takes a pen in his right hand, and
commences writing._) Well, what next?
_Chief Sub._ But shall I not disturb you?
_Ed._ Not at all; my right hand is in sympathy with LONGBOW, so I need
not pay any attention to what he is sending us until he gets to the
end of his copy. Everything else right?
_Chief Sub._ I think I may venture to say "Yes," Sir. Mrs. COVERS, who
does our reviews, has neglected to send in her stuff, but I have used
the mentophone again in that case. Put on CHARLES LAMB. And I think
that's all, save, as there is a letter about the authorship of
_Hamlet_, I have got WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE to answer it himself. And now,
Sir, I would suggest that, as we are rather full up this evening, you
might conclude that dispatch as quickly as possible.
_Ed._ My hand has just done writing. (_Gives copy to_ Chief Sub.)
Anything worth a line for the bill?
_Chief Sub._ (_after perusal_). Well, yes, Sir. I find there has been
a battle, so we may as well give that.
_Ed._ Everything right now?
_Chief Sub._ Everything, Sir.
_Ed._ Well, now you can send down the paper to press as soon as you
please. (_Exit_ Chief Sub. _to carry out directions_.) Dear me! It
really simplifies matters considerably when waves of thought will do
as well as the electric telegraph.
[_The Curtain falls upon the_ Editor's _very natural
reflection_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: SANCTA SIMPLICITAS.
_Housemaid._ "WE'RE GETTING UP A SWEEPSTAKES, MRS. THRUPP. WON'T YOU
JOIN?"
_Housekeeper._ "GRACIOUS ME, CHILD; NOT I! WHY IF I _WON_ A HORSE I
SHOULDN'T KNOW WHAT TO _DO_ WITH HIM!"]
* * * * *
TO THE SEA.
_An Expostulation._
Oh, smooth and smiling! I have loved thee well!
Hymned thee, and heard thee; lived beneath thy spell;
For years thy life-giving ozone have bless'd,
That makes loose garments tighter | 53.706456 |
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THE PILOT
A Tale of the Sea
By J. Fenimore Cooper
TO
WILLIAM BRANFORD SHUBRICK, ESQ.,
U. S. NAVY.
MY DEAR SHUBRICK,
Each year brings some new and melancholy chasm in what is now the brief
list of my naval friends and former associates. War, disease, and the
casualties of a hazardous profession have made fearful inroads in the
limited number; while the places of the dead are supplied by names that
to me are those of strangers. With the consequences of these sad changes
before me, I cherish the recollection of those with whom I once lived
in close familiarity with peculiar interest, and feel a triumph in their
growing reputations, that is but little | 53.992761 |
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HYMNS FROM THE GERMAN.
TRANSLATED BY
FRANCES ELIZABETH COX.
"Awake up, my glory: awake, lute and harp."
_SECOND EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED._
RIVINGTONS,
WATERLOO PLACE, LONDON;
HIGH STREET, OXFORD;
TRINITY STREET, CAMBRIDGE.
1864.
_Preface._
Germany, since the time of the Reformation, has always had its sacred
poets; yet their beautiful hymns were till of late unknown in England,
except to the few who read them in the original.
This small selection, now re-published in a slightly enlarged edition,
was perhaps the first attempt to make them known to English readers. Some
of its former contents are here replaced by hymns of more value.
Most of these were pointed out to the Translator as "national treasures"
by the late Baron Bunsen, on whose authority the names and dates of the
authors are given, and from whose large collection the hymns, with one
exception, are taken. That entitled "Gethsemane," recently translated for
Lyra Mystica, is from a Treves hymn-book. The proximity of the German,
which, as in the first Edition, is printed on corresponding pages, will
betray that in this instance, as also in three or four others, the metre
has been changed. In this hymn especially it was difficult to retain the
short line and double rhyme in English verse, with sufficient reverence
for the solemn theme.
The originals will, it is hoped, recommend this volume to young students
of German, who may wish to become acquainted with some of the hymns of
Gerhard, Angelus, and others, without searching through collections which
mostly comprise several hundreds.
HYMNS,
GERMAN AND ENGLISH.
LIEDER. (HYMNS.)
Morgenlied.
Lobet den Herrn alle seine Werke an allen Orten seiner Herrschaft:
Lobe den Herrn meine Seele.
Wie schoen leuchtet der Morgenstern
Vom Firmament des Himmels fern!
Die Nacht ist nun vergangen,
All Creatur macht sich herfuer
Des edlen Lichtes Pracht und Zier
Mit Freuden zu empfangen:
Was lebt, Was schwebt
Hoch in Lueften, Tief in Klueften,
Laesst zu Ehren
Seinem Gott ein Danklied hoeren.
Drum, o mein Herz, dich auch aufricht,
Erheb dein Stimm und saeume nicht
Dem Herrn dein Lob zu bringen.
Denn, Herr, Du bist's, dem Lob gebuehrt,
Dess Ruhm niemals vollendet wird,
Den man laesst innig klingen
Mit Fleiss Dank, Preis,
Freudensaiten, Dass von weiten
Man kann hoeren
Dich, o meinen Heiland, ehren.
Ich lag in stolzer Sicherheit,
Sah nicht, mit was Gefaehrlichkeit
Ich diese Nacht umgeben:
Des Teufels List und Bueberei,
Die Hoell, des Todes Tyrannei
Stund mir nach Leib und Leben,
Dass ich Schwerlich
Waer entkommen Und entnommen
Diesen Banden,
Wenn Du mir nicht beigestanden.
Allein, o Jesu, meine Freud
In aller Angst und Traurigkeit,
Du hast mich heut befreiet,
Du hast der Feinde Macht gewehrt,
Mir Schutz und sanfte Ruh beschert,
Des sei gebenedeiet!
Mein Muth, Mein Blut
Soll nun singen, Soll nun springen,
All mein Leben
Soll Dir Dankeslieder geben.
O mein Herr, suesser Lebenshort,
Lass ferner deine Gnadenpfort
Mir heut auch offen bleiben:
Sei meine Burg und festes Schloss,
Und lass kein feindliches Geschoss
Daraus mich immer treiben:
Stell Dich Fuer mich
Hin, zu kaempfen Und zu daempfen
Pfeil und Eisen,
Wenn der Feind will Macht beweisen.
Geuss deiner Gnade reichen Stral
Auf mich vom hohen Himmelssaal,
Mein Herz in mir erneue:
Dein guter Geist mich leit und fuehr,
Dass ich nach meines Stands Gebuehr
Zu thun mich innig freue.
Gieb Rath Und That,
Lass mein Sinnen Und Beginnen
Stets sich wenden,
Seinen Lauf in Dir zu enden.
Wend Unfall ab, kanns anders sein,
Wo nicht, so geb ich mich darein,
Und will nicht widerstreben.
Doch komm, o suesser Morgenthau,
Mein Herz erfrisch, dass ich Dir trau,
Und bleib im Kreuz ergeben,
Bis ich Endlich
Nach dem Leiden zu den Freuden
Werd erhoben,
Da ich Dich will ewig loben.
Indess, mein Herze sing und spring,
In allem Kreuz sei guter Ding,
Der Himmel steht dir offen;
Lass Schwermuth dich nicht nehmen ein,
Denk, dass die liebsten Kinder sein
Allzeit das Kreuz betroffen:
Drum so Sei froh,
Glaube feste, Dass das Beste,
So bringt Frommen,
Wir in jener Welt bekommen.
| 54.022464 |
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LEMORNE VERSUS HUELL
Elizabeth Drew Stoddard
Harper's New Monthly Magazine 26 (1863): 537-43.
The two months I spent at Newport with Aunt Eliza Huell, who had been
ordered to the sea-side for the benefit of her health, were the
months that created all that is dramatic in my destiny. My aunt was
troublesome, for she was not only out of health, but in a lawsuit. She
wrote to me, for we lived apart, asking me to accompany her--not because
she was fond of me, or wished to give me pleasure, but because I
was useful in various ways. Mother insisted upon my accepting her
invitation, not because she loved her late husband's sister, but because
she thought it wise to cotton to her in every particular, for Aunt Eliza
was rich, and we--two lone women--were poor.
I gave my music-pupils a longer and earlier vacation than usual, took a
week to arrange my wardrobe--for I made my own dresses--and then started
for New York, with the five dollars which Aunt Eliza had sent for my
fare thither. I arrived at her house in Bond Street at 7 A.M., and found
her man James in conversation with the milkman. He informed me that
Miss Huell was very bad, and that the housekeeper was still in bed. I
supposed that Aunt Eliza was in bed also, but I had hardly entered the
house when I heard her bell ring as she only could ring it--with an
impatient jerk.
"She wants hot milk," said James, "and the man has just come."
I laid my bonnet down, and went to the kitchen. Saluting the cook, who
was an old acquaintance, and who told me that the "divil" had been in
the range that morning, I took a pan, into which I poured some milk, and
held it over the gaslight till it was hot; then I carried it up to Aunt
Eliza.
"Here is your milk, Aunt Eliza. You have sent for me to help you, and I
begin with the earliest opportunity."
"I looked for you an hour ago. Ring the bell."
I rang it.
"Your mother is well, I suppose. She would have sent you, though, had
she been sick in bed."
"She has done so. She thinks better of my coming than I do."
The housekeeper, Mrs. Roll, came in, and Aunt Eliza politely requested
her to have breakfast for her niece as soon as possible.
"I do not go down of mornings yet," said Aunt Eliza, "but Mrs. Roll
presides. See that the coffee is good, Roll."
"It is good generally, Miss Huell."
"You see that Margaret brought me my milk."
"Ahem!" said Mrs. Roll, marching out.
At the beginning of each visit to Aunt Eliza I was in the habit of
dwelling on the contrast between her way of living and ours. We lived
from "hand to mouth." Every thing about her wore a hereditary air; for
she lived in my grandfather's house, and it was the same as in his day.
If I was at home when these contrasts occurred to me I should have felt
angry; as it was, I felt them as in a dream--the china, the silver, the
old furniture, and the excellent fare soothed me.
In the middle of the day Aunt Eliza came down stairs, and after she had
received a visit from her doctor, decided to go to Newport on Saturday.
It was Wednesday; and I could, if I chose, make any addition to my
wardrobe. I had none to make, I informed her. What were my dresses?--had
I a black silk? she asked. I had no black silk, and thought one would be
unnecessary for hot weather.
"Who ever heard of a girl of twenty-four having no black silk! You have
slimsy muslins, I dare say?"
"Yes."
"And you like them?"
"For present wear."
That afternoon she sent Mrs. Roll out, who returned with a splendid
heavy silk for me, which Aunt Eliza said should be made before Saturday,
and it was. I went to a fashionable dress-maker of her recommending, and
on Friday it came home, beautifully made and trimmed with real lace.
"Even the Pushers could find no fault with this," said Aunt Eliza,
turning over the sleeves and smoothing the lace. Somehow she smuggled
into the house a white straw-bonnet, with white roses; also a handsome
mantilla. She held | 54.117659 |
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Produced by Alan Light
MEN, WOMEN AND GHOSTS
by Amy Lowell
by Amy Lowell [American (Massachusetts) poet and critic--1874-1925.]
[Note on text: Lines longer than 78 characters are broken
and the continuation is indented two spaces. Some obvious errors
have been corrected.]
"'... See small portions of the Eternal World that ever groweth':...
So sang a Fairy, mocking, as he sat on a streak'd tulip,
Thinking none saw him: when he ceas'd I started from the trees,
And caught him in my hat, as boys knock down a butterfly."
William Blake. "Europe. A Prophecy."
'Thou hast a lap full of seed,
And this is a fine country.'
William Blake.
Preface
This is a book of stories. For that reason I have excluded all purely
lyrical poems. But the word "stories" has been stretched to its fullest
application. It includes both narrative poems, properly so called;
tales divided into scenes; and a few pieces of less obvious
story-telling import in which one might say that the dramatis personae
are air, clouds, trees, houses, streets, and such like things.
It has long been a favourite idea of mine that the rhythms of'vers
libre' have not been sufficiently plumbed, that there is in them a power
of variation which has never yet been brought to the light of
experiment. I think it was the piano pieces of Debussy, with their
strange likeness to short vers libre poems, which first showed me the
close kinship of music and poetry, and there flashed into my mind the
idea of using the movement of poetry in somewhat the same way that the
musician uses the movement of music.
It was quite evident that this could never be done in the strict pattern
of a metrical form, but the flowing, fluctuating rhythm of vers libre
seemed to open the door to such an experiment. First, however, I
considered the same method as applied to the more pronounced movements
of natural objects. If the reader will turn to the poem, "A Roxbury
Garden", he will find in the first two sections an attempt to give the
circular movement of a hoop bowling along the ground, and the up and
down, elliptical curve of a flying shuttlecock.
From these experiments, it is but a step to the flowing rhythm of music.
In "The Cremona Violin", I have tried to give this flowing, changing
rhythm to the parts in which the violin is being played. The effect is
farther heightened, because the rest of the poem is written in the seven
line Chaucerian stanza; and, by deserting this ordered pattern for the
undulating line of vers libre, I hoped to produce something of the
suave, continuous tone of a violin. Again, in the violin parts
themselves, the movement constantly changes, as will be quite plain to
any one reading these passages aloud.
In "The Cremona Violin", however, the rhythms are fairly obvious and
regular. I set myself a far harder task in trying to transcribe the
various movements of Stravinsky's "Three Pieces 'Grotesques', for String
Quartet". Several musicians, who have seen the poem, think the movement
accurately given.
These experiments lead me to believe that there is here much food for
thought and matter for study, and I hope many poets will follow me in
opening up the still hardly explored possibilities of vers libre.
A good many of the poems in this book are written in "polyphonic prose".
A form about which I have written and spoken so much that it seems
hardly necessary to explain it here. Let me hastily add, however, that
the word "prose" in its name refers only to the typographical
arrangement, for in no sense is this a prose form. Only read it aloud,
Gentle Reader, I beg, and you will see what you will see. For a purely
dramatic form, I know none better in the whole range of poetry. It
enables the poet to give his characters the vivid, real effect they have
in a play, while at the same time writing in the 'decor'.
One last innovation I have still to mention. It will be found in
"Spring Day", and more fully enlarged upon in the series, "Towns in
Colour". In these poems, I have endeavoured to give the colour, and
light, and shade, of certain places and hours, stressing the purely
pictorial effect, and with little or no reference to any other aspect of
the places described. It is an enchanting thing to wander through a
city looking for its unrelated beauty, the beauty by which it captivates
the sensuous sense of seeing.
I have always loved aquariums, but for years I went to them and looked,
and looked, at those swirling, shooting, looping patterns of | 55.083021 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
YOU KNOW ME AL
RING W. LARDNER
YOU KNOW ME
AL
_A Busher's Letters_
BY
RING W. LARDNER
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1916,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A BUSHER'S LETTERS HOME 9
II THE BUSHER COMES BACK 45
III THE BUSHER'S HONEYMOON 83
IV A NEW BUSHER BREAKS IN 122
V THE BUSHER'S KID 166
VI THE BUSHER BEATS IT HENCE 208
YOU KNOW ME AL
YOU KNOW ME AL
CHAPTER I
A BUSHER'S LETTERS HOME
_Terre Haute, Indiana, September 6._
FRIEND AL: Well, Al old pal I suppose you seen in the paper where I
been sold to the White Sox. Believe me Al it comes as a surprise to
me and I bet it did to all you good old pals down home. You could of
knocked me over with a feather when the old man come up to me and says
Jack I've sold you to the Chicago Americans.
I didn't have no idea that anything like that was coming off. For five
minutes I was just dum and couldn't say a word.
He says We aren't getting what you are worth | 55.110396 |
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THE CHARACTER OF THE JEW BOOKS
Being, A Defence of The Natural Innocence of Man, Against Kings and
Priests or Tyrants and Impostors
BY PHILANTHROPOS
London:
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY R. CARLILE, 55, FLEET STREET.
1821.
Price Twopence.
THE CHARACTER OF THE JEW BOOKS
Justice is due to all men; it is a gem that sheds a brilliant radiance
upon the tyrant and the slave, upon the rich and the poor; Justice is
in the moral world what the sun is in the physical, one illuminates
the intellectual, the other the terrestrial system. By the standard of
justice measure the rulers of the earth; try their actions, calculate
their characters, weigh their governments in the balance of justice;
when analyzed by this test and found unalloyed, grant unmeasured praise;
if deficient, if tyranny, villainy, bigotry and cruelty preponderate,
condemn them, and consign them to the execration of all mankind.
Notwithstanding the exertions of Philosophy, and the undaunted
perseverance of _a few men_, barbarity, cupidity and bigotry, generally
prevail; the numerous devotees, the thronged congregation of rogues,
slaves, and fools at the shrine of avarice, too frequently paralyze
the efforts of liberal men; mean, pitiful, despicable traffic, has
introduced mercantile ideas, and consequently _this nation of hucksters
estimates merit in money_. The rich assume to be privileged, and
unceasingly condemn and revile the industrious poor, as being vicious,
immeasurably criminal, and abandoned to every moral offence: regardless
of themselves, their families, their society, and their souls; let us
enquire if those charges are just, if the poor are degenerated, if they
have abandoned themselves to contempt, to degradation, to confinement,
and to death; _let us endeavour to ascertain if the laws of nature are
changed, let its endeavour to ascertain if the precepts of reason are
revoked, let us endeavour to ascertain if death is preferred to life_.
The poor are the most numerous, the most industrious, and the most
useful part of society; should this portion, this staple part, this
lever of the nation be so deserving of contempt, of execration, and of
condemnation, as some puny-minded, rickety-headed fools would have us
believe, much might be feared for the continued indissolubility of the
nation; such as have monopolized the labour of the poor, and enjoy
the rank of the privileged rich, incessantly insist that severe laws,
vindictive tortures, and daily sanguinary executions would insure
tranquility endangered, preserve religion scoffed, suppress blasphemy
encouraged, strengthen monarchies loathed, despised, scorned, hated and
execrated. The passions of distrust, revenge, fear, hatred, malice and
cruelty distract the rich, that thrive by treachery, hypocrisy, tyranny
and rapacity; conscious of turpitude, stung by remorse, alarmed for the
safety of ill-gotten gains, the robbers and impostors are afraid the
people will claim a restitution of rights and property.
In investigating the origin of crime perhaps it will appear that the
robbery and hypocrisy of King, and Priests, and Peers, have been the
exciting cause, the immoderate agents, the operative principle, that
called into action the criminal intention imputed to the poor; if such
is proved, could any thing be more cruel, more shocking, more outrageous
of common decency, than for the rich and privileged robbers, usurpers
and impostors, to accuse the people of crimes they have been parties to,
that they have promoted by rapine, encouraged by example; crimes that
they may in effect have committed, for Kings and Peers and Priests
unblushingly practise trades of fraud, imposition, and rapine, their
titles admit their separation from men; experience proves they have
inclination and capacity for any degree of villainy, the worst, the
vilest, and the most detestable of men can invent; no disgrace can
move, no contempt can stagger, no scorn can lower such as pollute the
sanctuaries of the Church and Throne, as certain places are called.
Survey man from his origin, from his birth, from his infancy, he enters
the word without reflection, without will, without ideas; his mind can
be formed, it can be moulded, it can be directed at pleasure; his
ideas, his expressions, his actions, his life, are the result of his,
education; his infancy, adolescence, his manhood, and his old age, are
the consequence of his instruction; without internal or innate idea,
without any | 55.33965 |
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Produced by Emmy, MWS and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
By Clara Louise Burnham
CLEVER BETSY. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25, _net_. Postage
extra.
FLUTTERFLY. Illustrated. Square 12mo, 75 cents.
THE LEAVEN OF LOVE. With frontispiece in color. 12mo,
$1.50.
THE QUEST FLOWER. Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00.
THE OPENED SHUTTERS. With frontispiece in color. 12mo,
$1.50.
JEWEL: A CHAPTER IN HER LIFE. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.
JEWEL’S STORY BOOK. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.
THE RIGHT PRINCESS. 12mo, $1.50.
MISS PRITCHARD’S WEDDING TRIP. 12mo, $1.50.
YOUNG MAIDS AND OLD. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
DEARLY BOUGHT. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
NO GENTLEMEN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
A SANE LUNATIC. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
NEXT DOOR. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
THE MISTRESS OF BEECH KNOLL. 16mo,$1.25; paper, 50
cents.
MISS BAGG’S SECRETARY. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
DR. LATIMER. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
SWEET CLOVER. A Romance of the White City. 16mo, $1.25;
paper, 50 cents.
THE WISE WOMAN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
MISS ARCHER ARCHER. 16mo, $1.25.
A GREAT LOVE. A Novel, 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
A WEST POINT WOOING, and Other Stories. 16mo, $1.25.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
CLEVER BETSY
[Illustration: SHE SANK INTO THE ARMS THAT CLASPED HER]
CLEVER BETSY
A Novel
by
Clara Louise Burnham
With Illustrations by
Rose O’Neill
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1910
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published September 1910_
CONTENTS
I. OPENING THE COTTAGE 1
II. MISTRESS AND MAID 16
III. IRVING BRUCE 27
IV. MRS. POGRAM CONFIDES 38
V. ROSALIE VINCENT 47
VI. THE LAST STAGE 62
VII. THE NATIONAL PARK 75
VIII. THE BLONDE HEAVER 87
IX. THE FOUNTAIN HOUSE 102
X. ON THE RIVERSIDE 117
XI. FACE TO FACE 131
XII. THE FAITHFUL GEYSER 150
XIII. THE HEIRESS 160
XIV. THE LOOKOUT 176
XV. AN EXODUS 189
XVI. BETSY’S GIFT 202
XVII. SUNRISE 217
XVIII. HOMEWARD BOUND 232
XIX. MRS. BRUCE’S HEADACHE 246
XX. BETSY’S APPEAL 258
XXI. A RAINY EVENING 270
XXII. THE WHITE DOVE 282
XXIII. THE DANCE 296
XXIV. THE CLASH 313
XXV. WHITE SWEET PEAS 327
XXVI. IN BETSY’S ROOM 338
XXVII. BETSY RECEIVES 355
XXVIII. GOOD-BY, SUMMER 369
XXIX. THE NEW YEAR 387
CLEVER BETSY | 56.58782 |
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file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
Transcriber’s note
Minor changes have been made to punctuation; otherwise, all other
inconsistencies are as in the original.
This e-text uses a number of special characters, including:
letters with macrons: ī, ō
letters with tildes: ẽ, ĩ, õ, ũ
letter e with ogonek: ę
yogh: ȝ
rotated floral heart bullet: ❧
double dagger: ‡
Characters that could not be displayed directly are transcribed as follows:
_ - Italics
^ - superscript
= - text in Black Letter
[quam] - in Latin means “than”
[que] - abbreviation for the letters “que”
¦ - broken square bracket
[bu] - black leftwards bullet
[*] - six-spoked asterisk
CAPELL’S SHAKESPEARIANA
London: C. J. CLAY AND SONS,
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE,
AVE MARIA LANE.
Glasgow 50, WELLINGTON STREET.
Leipzig: F.A. BROCKHAUS.
New York: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.
[_All Rights reserved._]
CATALOGUE OF THE BOOKS
PRESENTED BY EDWARD
CAPELL TO THE LIBRARY
OF TRINITY COLLEGE IN
CAMBRIDGE COMPILED BY
W.W. GREG M.A.
CAMBRIDGE
PRINTED FOR TRINITY COLLEGE
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS MCMIII
Cambridge:
PRINTED BY J. AND C. F. CLAY,
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
EDWARDI CAPELL
MANIBVS
PREFACE.
The books catalogued in the present volume were collected by the
Shakespearian scholar Edward Capell and formed the principal part of his
library during the years which he spent in the preparation of his
edition of Shakespeare’s dramatic works. After the publication of this
his life’s work and the completion of his commentary, the appearance of
which however was delayed, Capell parted with his library, the most
valuable portion being presented to Trinity while the remainder was
dispersed. The conclusion of the Seniority relating to the gift is
preserved in the books of the College under the date June 26, 1779. It
runs “Agreed by the Master and Seniors, that the thanks of the Society
be presented to Edward Capel, Esq. for the valuable Collection of the
old Editions of Shakespeare, and of the several manuscripts and printed
books, relating to the same Author. J. Peterborough, M.C.” The further
conclusion relating to the keeping of the books will be found quoted in
the entry concerning the MS catalogue (p. 163).
Edward Capell, son of the rector of Stanton in Suffolk, was born on June
11, 1713. He was educated at the grammar school of Bury St Edmunds and
at Catharine Hall, Cambridge. In 1737 he became deputy-inspector of
plays and in 1745 groom of the privy chamber; both appointments being
due to the patronage of the Duke of Grafton. In 1760 he published his
volume of ‘Prolusions.’ In 1768 appeared his edition of Shakespeare in
ten volumes, dedicated to the grandson of his former patron. The
commentary was not finally published till 1783. In the meanwhile Capell
had died at his chambers in Brick Court in the Temple on February 24,
1781. He also published ‘Two Tables elucidating the Sounds of Letters’
in 1749 and ‘Reflections on the Originallity of Authours’ in 1766.
The system on which the books have been catalogued will I think explain
itself. Each work is entered under the author’s name whenever the
ascription can be made with a reasonable degree of certainty, whether or
not the name appears in the work itself. Otherwise books are entered
under their titles, except in the case of those published under
pseudonyms, which are treated as real names. Initials have not been
allowed as headings. In all cases in which any possibility of doubt
exists, cross references will be found in the index. With regard to
information concerning printers, etc. I have only given notes in cases
of particular interest. A list of printers and stationers will be found
at the end. In one detail I have deliberately sacrificed consistency to
expediency. I have, namely, in giving the names of authors of
commendatory verses and the like, followed the original or modernised
spelling as appeared more convenient in each individual case.
Finally it is my pleasant duty to acknowledge the kind and valuable help
I have throughout received from Mr Aldis Wright, at whose original
suggestion the present work was undertaken. I also owe certain
suggestions and corrections to my friend Mr A.W. Pollard of the British
Museum, to whom the proofs were submitted.
W. W. G.
_November, 1903._
ERRATA.
p. 1, l. 9. _for_ Blovnt _read_ Blount.
p. 2, l. 16. _for_ Blovnt _read_ Blount.
p. 49, l. 8. _for_ ₂T⁴ _read_ 2T⁴.
| 56.96542 |
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THE WORKS
OF
FRANCIS MAITLAND BALFOUR.
VOL. II.
Memorial Edition.
Cambridge:
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SON,
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
Memorial Edition.
THE WORKS
OF
FRANCIS MAITLAND BALFOUR,
M.A., LL.D., F.R.S.,
FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE,
AND PROFESSOR OF ANIMAL MORPHOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
CAMBRIDGE.
EDITED BY
M. FOSTER, F.R.S.,
PROFESSOR OF PHYSIOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE;
AND
ADAM SEDGWICK, M.A.,
FELLOW AND LECTURER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
VOL. II.
A TREATISE ON COMPARATIVE EMBRYOLOGY.
Vol. I. Invertebrata.
London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1885
[_The Right of Translation is reserved._]
PREFACE.
My aim in writing this work has been to give such an account of the
development of animal forms as may prove useful both to students and
to those engaged in embryological research. The present volume, save
in the introductory chapters, is limited to a description of the
development of the Invertebrata: the second and concluding volume will
deal with the Vertebrata, and with the special histories of the
several organs.
Since the work is, I believe, with the exception of a small but useful
volume by Packard, the first attempt to deal in a complete manner with
the whole science of Embryology in its recent aspects, and since a
large portion of the matter contained in it is not to be found in the
ordinary text books, it appeared desirable to give unusually ample
references to original sources. I have accordingly placed at the end
of each chapter, or in some cases of each section of a chapter, a list
of the more important papers referring to the subject dealt with. The
papers in each list are numbered continuously, and are referred to in
the text by their numbers. These lists are reprinted as an appendix at
the end of each volume. It will of course be understood that they do
not profess to form a complete bibliography of the subject.
In order to facilitate the use of the work by students I have employed
two types. The more general parts of the work are printed in large
type; while a smaller type is used for much of the theoretical matter,
for the details of various special modes of development, for the
histories of the less important forms, and for controversial matter
generally. The student, especially when commencing his studies in
Embryology, may advantageously confine his attention to the matter in
the larger type; it is of course assumed that he already possesses a
competent knowledge of Comparative Anatomy.
Since the theory of evolution became accepted as an established
doctrine, the important bearings of Embryology on all morphological
views have been universally recognised: but the very vigour with which
this department of science has been pursued during the last few years
has led to the appearance of a large number of incomplete and
contradictory observations and theories; and to arrange these into
anything like an orderly and systematic exposition has been no easy
task. Many Embryologists will indeed probably hold that any attempt to
do so at the present time is premature, and therefore doomed to
failure. I must leave it to others to decide how far my effort has
been justified. That what I have written contains errors and
shortcomings is I fear only too certain, but I trust that those who
are most capable of detecting them will also be most charitable in
excusing them.
The work is fully illustrated, and most of the figures have been
especially engraved from original memoirs or from my own papers or
drawings by Mr Collings, who has spared no pains to render the
woodcuts as clear and intelligible as possible. I trust my
readers will not be disappointed with the results. The sources from
which the woodcuts are taken have been in all cases acknowledged, and
in the cases where no source is given the illustrations are my own.
I take this opportunity of acknowledging my great obligations to
Professors Agassiz, Huxley, Gegenbaur, Lankester, Turner, Koelliker,
and Claus, to Sir John Lubbock, Mr Moseley, and Mr P. H. Carpenter,
for the use of electrotypes of woodcuts from their works.
I am also under great obligations to numerous friends who have helped
me in various ways in the course of my labour. Professor Kleinenberg,
of Messina, has read through the whole of the proofs, and has made
numerous valuable criticisms. My friend and former pupil, Mr Adam
Sedgwick, has been of the greatest assistance to me in correcting the
proofs. I have had the benefit | 57.217515 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
MARGARET CAPEL.
A NOVEL.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
"THE CLANDESTINE MARRIAGE."
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1846.
LONDON:
Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
MARGARET CAPEL.
CHAPTER I.
For not to think of what I need's must feel,
But to be still and patient all I can,
And haply, by abstruse research, to steal
From my own nature all the natural man:
This was my sole resource, my only plan.
COLERIDGE.
And time, that mirrors on its stream aye flowing
Hope's starry beam, despondency's dark shade;
Green early leaves, flowers in warm sunshine blowing,
Boughs by sharp winter's breath all leafless made.
ANON.
Margaret remained for more than a year in the most perfect retirement.
The solitude of Ashdale was nothing to that of Mrs. Fitzpatrick's
cottage. This tranquillity was well adapted to her state of feeling:
she never experienced a wish to interrupt it. She was sincerely attached
to her hostess. Although reserved, Mrs. Fitzpatrick was even-tempered;
and she became very fond of Margaret, whose society filled up such a
painful blank in her home. Both had suffered much, though neither ever
alluded to her sufferings: and sorrow is always a bond of union. When
first she came to Mrs. Fitzpatrick's, her health was so delicate, that
the poor lady feared she was to go through a second ordeal, similar to
the one she had lately submitted to with her own child. Margaret had a
terrible cough and frequent pain in the side, and whenever Mrs.
Fitzpatrick saw her pause on her way down stairs with her hand pressed
on her heart, or heard the well-known and distressing sound of the
cough, the memory of her daughter was almost too painfully renewed. But
Mr. Lindsay pronounced the cough to be nervous, and the pain in the side
nothing of any consequence; and though winter was stealing on, his
opinion was borne out by Margaret's rapid amendment.
Circumstances had long taught Margaret to suffer in silence: she found
then no difficulty in assuming a composure of manner that she did not
always feel; and soon the healing effects of repose and time were
visible in her demeanour. The loss of her uncle was become a softened
grief--for her other sorrow, she never named it even to herself. Yet
still if any accident suggested to her heart the name of Mr. Haveloc, it
would be followed by a sudden shock, as though a dagger had been plunged
into it. She could not bear to think of him, and it was a comfort to be
in a place where she was never likely to hear him named.
And in the beautiful country, among those fading woods, on that
irregular and romantic shore, was to be found the surest antidote for
all that she had endured--for all she might still suffer. In the soft,
yet boisterous autumn wind--in the swell of the mighty waves--in the
fresh breath, ever wafted over their foam, there was health for the
body, there was peace to the mind. The scenery was so delightful that
she was never tired of rambling--and so secluded, that there was no harm
in rambling alone. And though a beauty, and by no means a portionless
one, she found means to pass her time without an adventure, unless the
vague admiration entertained for her by a young coxcomb who was reading
for college with the clergyman, might deserve that name.
This youth, not being very skilful in shooting the sea-gulls, had
nothing on earth to do except to make love to the first pretty woman he
might encounter. He had literally no choice; for Margaret was the only
young lady in the parish. She was waylaid, stared at--was molested in
church by nosegays laid on the desk of her pew, and annoyed at home by
verses that came in with the breakfast things. She was reduced to walk
out only with Mrs. Fitzpatrick; she was debarred from sitting on the
beach--gathering nuts | 57.280079 |
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Makers of History
Pyrrhus
BY JACOB ABBOTT
WITH ENGRAVINGS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1901
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight
hundred and fifty-four, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District
of New York.
[Illustration: PYRRHUS VIEWING THE ROMAN ENCAMPMENT.]
PREFACE.
In respect to the heroes of ancient history, who lived in times
antecedent to the period when the regular records of authentic history
commence, no reliance can be placed upon the actual verity of the
accounts which have come down to us of their lives and actions. In
those ancient days there was, in fact, no line of demarkation between
romance and history, and the stories which were told of Cyrus, Darius,
Xerxes, Romulus, Pyrrhus, and other personages as ancient as they, are
all more or less fabulous and mythical. We learn this as well from the
internal evidence furnished by the narratives themselves as from the
researches of modern scholars, who have succeeded, in many cases, in
disentangling the web, and separating the false from the true. It is
none the less important, however, on this account, that these ancient
tales, as they were originally told, and as they have come down to us
through so many centuries, should be made known to readers of the
present age. They have been circulated among mankind in their
original form for twenty or thirty centuries, and they have mingled
themselves inextricably with the literature, the eloquence, and the
poetry of every civilized nation on the globe. Of course, to know what
the story is, whether true or false, which the ancient narrators
recorded, and which has been read and commented on by every succeeding
generation to the present day, is an essential attainment for every
well-informed man; a far more essential attainment, in fact, for the
general reader, than to discover now, at this late period, what the
actual facts were which gave origin to the fable.
In writing this series of histories, therefore, it has been the aim of
the author not to _correct_ the ancient story, but to repeat it as it
stands, cautioning the reader, however, whenever occasion requires,
not to suppose that the marvelous narratives are historically true.
CONTENTS.
Chapter Page
I. OLYMPIAS AND ANTIPATER 13
II. CASSANDER 40
III. EARLY LIFE OF PYRRHUS 64
IV. WARS IN MACEDON 86
V. WAR IN ITALY 111
VI. NEGOTIATIONS 134
VII. THE SICILIAN CAMPAIGN 159
VIII. THE RETREAT FROM ITALY 188
IX. THE FAMILY OF LYSIMACHUS 210
X. THE RECONQUEST OF MACEDON 235
XI. SPARTA 249
XII. THE LAST CAMPAIGN OF PYRRHUS 268
ENGRAVINGS.
Page
THE ROMAN ENCAMPMENT _Frontispiece_.
MAP--EMPIRE OF PYRRHUS 12
EURYDICE IN PRISON 57
MAP--GRECIAN EMPIRE 110
THE TROPHIES 132
THE ELEPHANT CONCEALED 145
THE ASSAULT 177
THE ROUT 206
THE FALLEN ELEPHANT 223
THE CHARGE 283
THE DEATH OF PYRRHUS 300
[Illustration: MAP--EMPIRE OF PYRRHUS.]
PYRRHUS.
CHAPTER I.
OLYMPIAS AND ANTIPATER.
B.C. 336-321
Situation of the country of Epirus.--Epirus and Macedon.--Their
political connections.--Olympias.--Her visits to
Epirus.--Philip.--Olympias as a wife.--She makes many
difficulties.--Alexander takes part with his mother in her
quarrel.--Olympias is suspected of having murdered her
husband.--Alexander's treatment of his mother.--His kind
and consider | 57.414624 |
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produced from images generously made available by the
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(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 And | 57.452439 |
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Volume I is available as Project Gutenberg ebook
number 49844.
WILLIAM COBBETT.
A BIOGRAPHY.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS,
ST. JOHN’S SQUARE.
WILLIAM COBBETT:
_A BIOGRAPHY_.
BY EDWARD SMITH.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
London:
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
1878.
[_All rights reserved._]
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER XIV.
1805-1806.
“I NEVER SAT MYSELF DOWN ANYWHERE, WITHOUT MAKING THE FRUITS
AND FLOWERS TO GROW” 1
CHAPTER XV.
1806-1807.
“I DID DESTROY THEIR POWER TO ROB US ANY LONGER WITHOUT THE
ROBBERY BEING PERCEIVED” 24
CHAPTER XVI.
1807-1809.
“THEY NATURALLY HATE ME” 45
CHAPTER XVII.
1808-1809.
“THE OUTCRY AGAINST ME IS LOUDER THAN EVER” 63
CHAPTER XVIII.
1809-1810.
“COMPARED WITH DEFEATING ME, DEFEATING BUONAPARTE IS A MERE
TRIFLE” 88
CHAPTER XIX.
1810.
“THE FOLLY, COMMON TO ALL TYRANTS, IS THAT THEY PUSH THINGS
TOO FAR” 114
CHAPTER XX.
1810-1812.
“TO PUT A MAN IN PRISON FOR A YEAR OR TWO DOES NOT KILL HIM” 127
CHAPTER XXI.
1812-1816.
“THE NATION NEVER CAN BE ITSELF AGAIN WITHOUT A REFORM” 149
CHAPTER XXII.
1816-1817.
“BETWEEN SILENCE AND A DUNGEON LAY MY ONLY CHOICE” 173
CHAPTER XXIII.
1817-1821.
“WHATEVER OTHER FAULTS I MAY HAVE, THAT OF LETTING GO MY
HOLD IS NOT ONE” 198
CHAPTER XXIV.
1821-1826.
“THEY COMPLAIN THAT THE TWOPENNY TRASH IS READ” 229
CHAPTER XXV.
1821-1831.
“I HAVE PLEADED THE CAUSE OF THE WORKING-PEOPLE, AND I SHALL
NOW SEE THAT CAUSE TRIUMPH” 249
CHAPTER XXVI.
1832-1835.
“I NOW BELONG TO THE PEOPLE OF OLDHAM” 275
CHAPTER XXVII.
1835.
“I HAVE BEEN THE GREAT ENLIGHTENER OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND” 291
APPENDIX: BIBLIOGRAPHICAL LIST OF WILLIAM COBBETT’S
PUBLICATIONS 305
INDEX 321
WILLIAM COBBETT: A BIOGRAPHY.
CHAPTER XIV.
“I NEVER SAT MYSELF DOWN ANYWHERE, WITHOUT MAKING THE FRUITS AND
FLOWERS TO GROW.”
The summer of 1805 finds Mr. Cobbett again at Botley with his family.
A letter to Wright, dated 5th July, says, “I have found here a most
delightful house and a more delightful garden.” Preparations are being
made for a prolonged stay, and for the occasional entertainment of his
correspondent: “I have given you a deal of trouble, and hope that you
will find hereafter some compensation during the time you will spend at
Botley.” The carpets are to be taken up (in Duke Street), and all the
bedding, &c., to be “removed upstairs, packed in mats or something.” On
the 28th of July Cobbett writes--
“I am glad that you are like to close your labours so soon,
for I really wish very much to see you here, and so do all the
children and their mother, all of whom have delightful health;
and Mrs. Cobbett is more attached to Botley than I am--one
cause of which is, she has made her servants humble, and she
bakes good bread. I | 57.492631 |
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Produced by David Widger
CELT AND SAXON
By George Meredith
1910.
CONTENTS
BOOK 1.
I. WHEREIN AN EXCURSION IS MADE IN A CELTIC MIND
II. MR. ADISTER
III. CAROLINE
IV. THE PRINCESS
V. AT THE PIANOS CHIEFLY WITHOUT MUSIC
VI. A CONSULTATION: WITH OPINIONS UPON WELSH WOMEN AND THE CAMBRIAN
RACE
VII. THE MINIATURE
VIII. CAPTAIN CON AND MRS. ADISTER O'DONNELL
IX. THE CAPTAIN'S CABIN
X. THE BROTHERS
XI. INTRODUCING A NEW CHARACTER
BOOK 2.
XII. MISS MATTOCK
XIII. THE DINNER-PARTY
XIV. OF ROCKNEY
XV. THE MATTOCK FAMILY
XVI. OF THE GREAT MR. BULL AND THE CELTIC AND SAXON VIEW OF HIM:
AND SOMETHING OF RICHARD ROCKNEY
XVII. CROSSING THE RUBICON
XVIII. CAPTAIN CON'S LETTER
XIX. MARS CONVALESCENT
CHAPTER I. WHEREIN AN EXCURSION IS MADE IN A CELTIC MIND
A young Irish gentleman of the numerous clan O'Donnells, and a Patrick,
hardly a distinction of him until we know him, had bound himself, by
purchase of a railway-ticket, to travel direct to the borders of North
Wales, on a visit to a notable landowner of those marches, the Squire
Adister, whose family-seat was where the hills begin to lift and spy
into the heart of black mountains | 57.503945 |
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E-text prepared by Marc D'Hooghe (http://www.freeliterature.org) 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://www.archive.org/details/kingofalsander00flecrich
THE KING OF ALSANDER
by
JAMES ELROY FLECKER
London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd.
Ruskin House 40 Museum Street, W.C.
1915
DEDICATION
_To_
J.N. MAVROGORDATO
This Romance,
of which he never despaired in the Rough
Is dedicated in the Ripe
CONTENTS
Preface
Chapter I. Blaindon
Chapter II. Alsander
Chapter III. En Pension in Alsander
Chapter IV. Introducing a good beggar and a bad King
Chapter V. Of the knighting of Norman Price
Chapter VI. Concerning Isis and Aphrodite:
with a digression on the shocking
treatment the latter's followers receive
from the hands of English novelists
Chapter VII. The Society for the Advancement of Alsander
Chapter VIII. How Norman failed to pass
a qualifying examination for the post
of King of Alsander, and was whipped:
together with a digression on the excellence
of whipping
Chapter IX. The Consul
Chapter X. Contains the President's tale
and a debate on the advantages of murder
Chapter XI. A Visit to Vorza
Chapter XII. In which the Beetles crawl
Chapter XIII. Re-Coronation
Chapter XIV. Princess Ianthe
Chapter XV. Peronella and the Priest
Chapter XVI. The Counter Conspiracy: an
episode in the style of the worst writers
Chapter XVII. Battle
Chapter XVIII. The Poet visits Blaindon
once more, and takes John Gaffekin to
the seashore, where a miracle occurs
PREFACE
_Here is a tale all romance--a tale such as only a Poet can write for
you, O appreciative and generous Public--a tale of madmen, kings,
scholars, grocers, consuls, and Jews: a tale with two heroines, both of
an extreme and indescribable beauty: a tale of the South and of
sunshine, wherein will be found disguises, mysteries, conspiracies,
fights, at least_ one _good whipping, and plenty of blood and love and
absurdity: a very old sort of tale: a tale as joyously improbable as
life itself._
_But if I know you aright, appreciative and generous Public, you look
for more than this in these tragic days of social unrest, and you will
be most dissatisfied with my efforts to please you. For you a king is a
shadow, a madman a person to be shut up, a scholar a fool, a grocer a
tradesman, a consul an inferior grade of diplomatic officer, and a Jew a
Jew. You will demand to know what panacea is preached in this novel as a
sovran remedy for the dismal state of affairs in England. With what hope
do I delude the groaning poor: with what sarcasm insult the insulting
rich? What is the meaning of my apparent joyousness? What has grim
iron-banging England to do with sunshine, dancing, adventure and, above
all, with Poets?_
_In support of my reputation let me hasten to observe that in my efforts
to please a generous and appreciative Public I have not failed to insert
several passages of a high moral tone. Grave matters of ethics are
frequently discussed in the course of my story, and the earnest inquirer
may learn much from this book concerning the aim, purpose and origin of
his existence. To Government and its problems I have given particular
attention, and the observant reader may draw from these subtle pages a
complete theory of the Fallacy of the Picturesque. Only I implore the
public to forgive the Poet his proverbial licence, to remember that
truth is still truth, though clad in harlequin raiment, and thought
still thought, though hinted and not explained._
| 57.511147 |
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scanned images of public domain material from the Google
Print archive.
HALF HOURS WITH THE IDIOT
By John Kendrick Bangs
* * * * *
A LITTLE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS
A LINE O' CHEER FOR EACH DAY O' THE YEAR
HALF HOURS WITH THE IDIOT
HALF HOURS WITH
THE IDIOT
BY
JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1917
_Copyright, 1917,_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I AS TO AMBASSADORS' RESIDENCES 1
II AS TO THE FAIR SEX 22
III HE GOES CHRISTMAS SHOPPING 43
IV AS TO THE INCOME TAX 65
V A PSYCHIC VENTURE 84
VI ON MEDICAL CONSERVATION 101
VII THE U. S. TELEPHONIC AID SOCIETY 119
VIII FOR TIRED BUSINESS MEN 137
I
AS TO AMBASSADORS' RESIDENCES
"I am glad to see that the government is beginning to think seriously of
providing Ambassadors' residences at the various foreign capitals to
which our Ambassadors are accredited," said the Idiot, stirring his
coffee with a small pocket thermometer, and entering the recorded
temperature of 58 degrees Fahrenheit in his little memorandum book.
"That's a thing we have needed for a long time. It has always seemed a
humiliating thing to me to note the differences between the houses of
our government officials of equal rank, but of unequal fortune, abroad.
To leave the home of an Ambassador to Great Britain, a massive
sixteen-story mausoleum, looking like a collision between a Carnegie
Library and a State Penitentiary, with seven baths and four grand pianos
on every floor, with guides always on duty to show you the way from your
bedchamber to the breakfast room, and a special valet for each garment
you wear, from sock to collar, and go over to Rome and find your
Ambassador heating his coffee over a gas-jet in a hall bedroom on the
top floor of some dusty old Palazzo, overlooking the garage of the
Spanish Minister, is disconcerting, to say the least. It may be a
symptom of American fraternity, but it does not speak volumes for
Western Hemispherical equality, and the whole business ought to be
standardized. An American Embassy architecturally should not be either a
twin brother to a Renaissance lunatic asylum, or a replica of a four
thousand dollar Ladies' Home Journal bungalow that can be built by the
owner himself working Sunday afternoons for eight hundred dollars,
exclusive of the plumbing."
"You are right for once, Mr. Idiot," said the Bibliomaniac approvingly.
"The last time I was abroad traveling with one of those Through Europe
in Ten Days parties, I could not make up my mind which was the more
humiliating to me as an American citizen, the lavish ostentation of one
embassy, or the niggardly squalor of another; and it occurred to me then
that here was a first-class opportunity for some patriot to come along
and do his country's dignity some good by pruning a little in one place,
and fattening things up a bit in another."
"Quite so," said the Idiot, inhaling a waffle.
"And I have been hoping," continued the Bibliomaniac, "that Congress
would authorize the purchase of suitable houses in foreign capitals for
the purpose of correcting the evil."
"That's where we diverge, sir," said the Idiot, "as the lady said to her
husband, when they got their first glimpse of the courthouse at Reno. We
don't want to purchase. We want to build. The home of an American
Ambassador should express America, not the country to which he is sent
to Ambass. There's nothing to my mind less appropriate than to find a
diplomat from Oklahoma named, let us say, Dinkelspiel, housed in a Louis
Fourteenth chateau on the Champs Eliza; or a gentleman from Indiana
dwelling in the palace of some noble but defunct homicidal Duck of the
Sforza strain in Rome; or a leading Presbyterian representing us at
Constantinople receiving his American visitors in a collection of
bargain-counter minarets formerly occupied by the secondary harem of the
Sublime Porte. There is an | 57.577696 |
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[Illustration: "He tried to shoot once more, into the very face of the
oncoming brute."--FRONTISPIECE. _See Page 245._]
THE HEART OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN
By EDFRID A. BINGHAM
With Frontispiece in Colors
By ANTON OTTO FISHER
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Published by Arrangements with Little, Brown & Company
Copyright, 1916,
By Edfrid A. Bingham.
All rights reserved
Published, March, 1916
Reprinted, March, 1916 (twice)
July, 1916; August, 1916
April, 1917
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I The Forbidden Pasture 1
II The Road to Paradise 15
III Seth Huntington's Opportunity 26
IV The Highest Bidder 37
V "He Shall Tell Me!" 50
VI The Story of the Scar 60
VII The Way of a Maid With a Man 71
VIII The End of Her Stratagem 86
IX Hearts Insurgent 99
X Strictly Confidential 112
XI Avalanche 121
XII Sunnysides 133
XIII Hillyer's Dilemma 144
XIV Coals of Fire 155
XV The Valley of the Shadow 166
XVI Questions and Answers 176
XVII Interlude 186
XVIII The Challenge of the Brute 193
XIX Smythe's Last Budget 202
XX "The Trail Held True" 215
XXI In the Hollow of the Storm 228
XXII The Narrow Passage 238
XXIII The Miracle 252
XXIV Haig's Argument 264
XXV Diana 278
XXVI The Snow 288
XXVII The Voice in the Hurricane 302
XXVIII The Man Who Did Not Forget 316
XXIX Ghosts 330
XXX The Lamp Relighted 344
XXXI Sangre De Cristo 359
THE HEART OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN
CHAPTER I
THE FORBIDDEN PASTURE
She sat hunched up in the middle of the silent pasture, where the
tall, thin grass ran ripening before the breeze in waves the hue of
burnished bronze. Her cow pony grazed greedily a few yards away,
lifting his head now and then to gaze inquiringly at her, and then
returning to his gluttony with a satisfied snort, commendatory of this
long rest. The girl had removed her small sombrero to adjust the
masses of tawny hair that had become disordered in her morning ride;
and the breeze now played with it, and the sun sought out its glints
of gold. She was fair, of a curiously rich complexion with soft golden
tints beneath the skin, as if the rusty gold in her hair was just the
outcropping of what ran in solution in her veins. And there was a
certain air about her that contrasted strangely with the scene upon
which she now gazed intently, with her head bent forward, and her
hands clasped round her upthrust knees.
It was a little valley she had come upon by chance, snugly tucked away
among the hills. Below the bronze- <DW72> there were lush
meadows of a brilliant green, and a shallow, swift stream that
flashed over black bowlders and white sand; beyond the meadows lay
more shining pastures rising to pale-green aspen groves and then to
dark-green pines; and above all these the foothills climbed swiftly to
the mountains, and the mountains more swiftly to the sky. There were
faint blue mists in the foothills, fainter violet shadows on the
distant fields, an icy whiteness on the peaks; and in the sky no more
than two small puffs of cloud like eiderdown adrift in the depths of
blue. What at first had seemed an utter silence laid upon that summer
landscape had now become, as she looked and listened, a silence full
of sound; of that indefinable humming undertone of nature maturing in
the sun; of insects busy at their harvest; of birds in the distance
calling; of grasses rustling in the breeze; of pines on the long ridge
droning like an organ in the Recessional.
Yes, it was very beautiful, she thought. And sweet. And peaceful. She
had come a long way--halfway across the great continent--to find that
peace. But why should there be a touch of sadness in all that beauty?
And why should there be need to search for her handkerchief to press
against her eyes? For the first time since she had come to Paradise
Park she felt a little lonely, a little doubtful about the wisdom of
her brave revolt.
She sank back at last, and lay curled up in the grass with her head
pillowed on one bent arm. There, to her half-closed eyes, the grass
seemed like a fairy forest, soon peopled by her fancy, the fancy of a
girl who still retained the quick imagination of a child. An Indian
paintbrush flamed at her with barbaric passion; nodding harebells
tinkled purple melodies; and a Mariposa lily with a violet eye seemed
like a knight in white armor, bowing himself into her outstretched
hand. Her eyelids drooped more and more. The music of the pines and
the murmur of the pasture blended in a faint and fading lullaby....
* * * * *
Tuesday's shrill neigh awakened her. She sat up shivering, for the
warm air was underlaid with cold; and quivering, for the alarm had
fallen pat upon the climax of her dream. She rubbed her eyes, a little
blinded by the sunlight, and saw that Tuesday stood with head high and
nostrils distended, gazing past her toward the upper end of the
pasture. She was not surprised, being yet under the spell of her
dream-fairyland, to see a horseman galloping straight toward her. If
not the white knight, then--For some seconds she stared, awakening
slowly; and smiled at length at her childish fancy. It was only a
cowboy, doubtless, riding upon his own prosaic business. And yet--She
became gradually aware of something unusual, something disquieting in
the manner of the man's approach. The horse was leaping under the
spurs; the rider sat upright and alert in the saddle; and suddenly, as
she watched him, the man's hand went to his hip, and there was a gleam
of metal in the sun.
She was not afraid. Seth Huntington had assured her there was nothing
to be feared in Paradise Park. But for all that, it was not without
uneasiness that she hastily arranged the meager folds of her divided
skirt, and passed her hands quickly over the still disordered masses
of her hair. And then he was fairly upon her, reining up with a jerk
that brought the sweating pony back upon its haunches.
There was an angry glitter in the man's dark eyes, his face was black
with passion, and the bright object she had seen flashing in his hand
was the twin brother of Huntington's six-shooter. He was roughly, even
meanly, dressed. His coarse blue flannel shirt was unbuttoned at the
throat; his soiled brown corduroy trousers were thrust unevenly into
dusty and wrinkled boot tops; his old, gray hat was slouched over one
side of his forehead, shading his eyes. But the face beneath that
faded and disreputable hat, as Marion saw with a slight thrill of
curiosity, belonged to no ranch hand or cow-puncher. Whoever he might
be, and whatever he might be doing there scowling at her, she felt at
once that he was as foreign as herself to that neighborhood. But there
was no time at that moment to analyze her feeling, to formulate her
thought. And her next impression, following very swiftly, was one of
vague antagonism. She felt that she was going to hate him.
"What new trick is this?" he demanded angrily, when he had looked from
the girl to her pony, and at her again, with unconcealed suspicion.
For a moment she was undecided whether to answer him sharply or to
rebuke his incivility with silence.
"I don't know!" she replied at last, by way of compromise between her
two impulses, with a half-playful emphasis on the "I," accompanied by
a very solemn, shaking of the head and a very innocent widening of the
eyes.
There was a pause while he searched her face with a distrustful
scrutiny.
"You're not just the person I was looking for," he said finally, with
a touch of irony.
"How fortunate!" she replied, in a tone that was like a mocking echo
of his own.
Her eyes met his unflinchingly, a little impudently, telling him
nothing; then they slowly fell, and rested on the revolver in his
hand. With a shrug he thrust the weapon into its holster.
"Thank you!" she said sweetly. "You really won't need it."
He jerked his head impatiently.
"How did you get in here?" he demanded, quite as roughly as before.
There was no reason in the world why she should not have answered him
simply and directly; but she did not. She was exasperated, not so much
by his words as by his manner, and not so much by his manner even as
by something provocative in the man himself. He was rude, but it was
not his rudeness that most annoyed her. She scarcely knew what it
was,--perhaps a certain indifference, a certain cold contempt that she
detected underlying all his anger, a certain icy and impenetrable
reserve that, for all his hot words, and for all his lowering looks,
she resented most as being in some way personal to her. And instantly
the minx in her rose up for mischief.
"By aeroplane, of course!" she said tartly.
It was a silly speech, and she regretted it almost before it had left
her lips.
A faint flush came into the enemy's face.
"Spoken like a woman!" he retorted. "Always tragic over little things
and flippant over big ones."
That brought the color up into her face. But she was not subdued; for
the cat in woman also has nine lives--at least.
"There's my horse," she said, with a toss of her head. "You saw him."
"True! But cow ponies don't easily jump four-wire fences."
"Why should they when the fences are down?"
"Good! We arrive by the devious ways that women love. Perhaps you'll
give me the answer now that you should have given in the first place.
_How did you get in here?_"
She bit her lip, reflected a moment, and attempted a flank movement.
"My name is Marion Gaylord."
"I knew that."
"But you have never seen me before!"
"No. But that's one of Huntington's horses, and Miss Gaylord is a
guest at his house. You see, I am more courteous than you after all. I
answer your questions."
"Perhaps I'll answer yours when I know what right you have to ask
them."
A light began to dawn upon him.
"Do you mean--you don't know where you are?"
"No."
He gave her a long, searching look before he spoke again.
"My name is Philip Haig," he said, leaning forward with a curious
smile.
The result was all that he could have wished for. Until that moment
she had remained seated, firm in her determination not to be
disturbed by him. But now she rose slowly to her feet, her face
reddening, her lips parted, a frightened look in her eyes. The shoe
was on the other foot, with a vengeance.
He saw all this, and without compunction, seized his advantage.
With a grim smile he threw the reins over the pony's head, swung
himself out of the saddle, and stepped toward her. As he came on he
removed his dilapidated hat with a gesture that made her forget it
was dilapidated,--a mocking, insolent gesture though it was. In
spite of her embarrassment she let none of his features escape her
quickening interest. She saw that he was tall, erect, alert; handsome
in some strange and half-repellent way, with his pale dark face,
rather long in contour, and with his black, curly hair matted on
the broad forehead. But she almost recoiled when, on his drawing
nearer, she saw for the first time--it had been hidden by the shadow
of his slouched hat--an ugly scar that ran from the outer corner of
his left eye down to the jawbone below the ear. It gave to one
side of his face a singularly sinister expression that vanished when
he turned and disclosed a profile that was not without nobility
and charm.
Then suddenly her mystification was complete. Their eyes met, not as
before, but very near, so close had he come to her, still smiling. And
instantly, instinctively, she lowered hers; for she felt as if she had
been caught peering through a window at something she had no right to
see. Yet the next instant she was looking again, half-guiltily, but
irresistibly drawn. The eyes were of a curious color,--smoky black, or
dark gray-blue, or somber purple,--liquid and deep like a woman's,
but with a steady, dull glow in their depths that was unlike anything
she had ever seen or imagined. What was it that burned there?
Suffering? Hunger? Evil? Sorrow? Shame? It gave her something to think
about for many a day and night. Meanwhile--
"I see you have heard of me," he said mockingly.
She had no reply. She was realizing slowly that she had trespassed,
that she had perhaps seriously compromised her cousin, and, most
humiliating of all, that she had assumed quite the wrong attitude
toward the man.
"You really didn't know you were on my land?" he demanded, with a
little less offensiveness in his tone.
"No," she answered weakly.
"And Huntington didn't send you here?"
"No."
"I believe you, of course. But it's rather queer. How did you
happen--if you don't mind--"
She did not mind in the least--was eager, indeed, to explain her
presence there.
"I'm just learning to ride," she began impulsively.
"This was my first venture off the valley road, and I--"
"And you came straight to me!" he exclaimed, chuckling.
At that a strange thing happened. He had meant only that she, the
guest and cousin of Seth Huntington, his bitter foe, had blundered
straight into the camp of the enemy; and that was a rare joke on
Huntington. But she was a girl; her little adventure was already rosy
with romance; and the effect of his careless speech was as if he had
looked into her heart, and read aloud for her something she had not
known was there. To his surprise and wonder the girl's fair face
turned red to the roots of her tawny hair, and a look of helpless
confusion came into the clear, blue eyes that until now, for all her
embarrassment, had frankly met his own. She looked suddenly away from
him.
"You make me ashamed," she said at length, stealing a look at him.
"If you know anything about my difficulty with Huntington," he began,
"you'll understand that--"
"I do. I do understand!" she interrupted eagerly. "I don't know much
about it--the trouble. They haven't told me. I've only overheard some
talk--and I didn't ask. I rode down the valley this morning trying to
do it like a cowboy. And there was a branch road--and then the break
in the fence--and before I knew it I'd fallen asleep. That's
all--except--" She shot a half-mischievous glance at him "--you
spoiled a very beautiful dream."
But this was all lost upon him. His face was clouding again.
"Where is it--the break in the fence?"
Chagrined at the failure of her bit of coquetry, she merely pointed in
the direction whence she had come.
"Thank you!" he said. "At last!"
With that he went swiftly to his pony, mounted, and started to ride
away. But suddenly he reined up again, whirled his horse savagely
around, and faced Marion with the sunlight full upon the scarred side
of his face, now ugly with menace.
"If that fence has been cut," he said, in a hard and level tone, "it's
been cut by Huntington or his men. You tell him for me, please--and
you'll be doing _him_ a favor not to forget it--tell him that he's a
fool to anger me. I've been very patient in this business, but I don't
claim patience as one of my virtues. Do you hear? Tell him he's a fool
to anger me!"
She watched him gallop to the gap in the barb-wire fence; she watched
him dismount to examine the severed wires; she watched him leap on his
horse again, and ride furiously down the road until he was lost to
view below the dip in the <DW72> toward the valley. And still for some
minutes she stood staring at the place where he had disappeared. Then,
left alone with her pent-up emotions, she no longer resisted them.
Tears of vexation started in her eyes; chagrin, resentment, anger
swept over her in turn. She dug the heel of one small boot into the
unoffending soil--his soil--and thrust her clenched hands down at her
side.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, over and over again, striding forward and
back across some yards of pasture, trampling lilies and harebells
under her heedless feet, turning her flaming face at intervals toward
the spot in the smiling landscape that had last held the figure of
Philip Haig.
The shame of it! She had never--never--never been treated so
outrageously | 57.780753 |
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Produced by David Widger
THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
(In 12 books)
Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society
London, 1903
BOOK IX.
My impatience to inhabit the Hermitage not permitting me to wait until
the return of fine weather, the moment my lodging was prepared I hastened
to take possession of it, to the great amusement of the 'Coterie
Holbachaque', which publicly predicted I should not be able to support
solitude for three months, and that I should unsuccessfully return to
Paris, and live there as they did. For my part, having for fifteen years
been out of my element, finding myself upon the eve of returning to it,
I paid no attention to their pleasantries. Since contrary to my
inclinations, I have again entered the world, I have incessantly
regretted my dear Charmettes, and the agreeable life I led there. I felt
a natural inclination to retirement and the country: it was impossible
for me to live happily elsewhere. At Venice, in the train of public
affairs, in the dignity of a kind of representation, in the pride of
projects of advancement; at Paris, in the vortex of the great world, in
the luxury of suppers, in the brilliancy of spectacles, in the rays of
splendor; my groves, rivulets, and solitary walks, constantly presented
themselves to my recollection, interrupted my thought, rendered me
melancholy, and made me sigh with desire. All the labor to which I had
subjected myself, every project of ambition which by fits had animated my
ardor, all had for object this happy country retirement, which I now
thought near at hand. Without having acquired | 58.265729 |
2023-11-16 18:16:45.1455040 | 209 | 217 |
Produced by Don Lainson
THE MESSENGERS
Richard Harding Davis
When Ainsley first moved to Lone Lake Farm all of his friends asked him
the same question. They wanted to know, if the farmer who sold it to him
had abandoned it as worthless, how one of the idle rich, who could not
distinguish a plough from a harrow, hoped to make it pay? His answer
was that he had not purchased the farm as a means of getting richer
by honest toil, but as a retreat from the world and as a test of true
friendship. He argued that the people he knew accepted his hospitality
at Sherry's because, in any event, they themselves would be dining
within a taxicab fare of the same place. But if to see him they
travelled all the way to Lone Lake Farm, he might feel assured that they
were friends indeed.
Lone Lake Farm was spread over many acres of rocky ravine and forest | 58.464914 |
2023-11-16 18:16:46.6741100 | 181 | 113 |
Produced by Brendan OConnor, 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:
Spelling and punctuation are sometimes erratic. A few obvious
misprints have been corrected, but in general the original spelling
and typesetting conventions have been retained. Accents are
inconsistent, and have not been standardised.
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
This issue contains the index to Volume 64.
BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. CCCXCVIII. DECEMBER, 1848. VOL. LXIV.
CONTENTS.
MRS HEMANS, 641 | 59.99352 |
2023-11-16 18:16:46.8527900 | 1,118 | 414 |
Produced by David Edwards 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 GREAT WESTERN SERIES.
I.
GOING WEST; or, The Perils of a Poor Boy.
II.
OUT WEST; or, Roughing it on the Great Lakes.
III.
LAKE BREEZES; or, The Cruise of the Sylvania.
IV.
GOING SOUTH; or, Yachting on the Atlantic Coast.
V.
DOWN SOUTH; or, Yacht Adventures in Florida.
VI.
UP THE RIVER; or, Yachting on the Mississippi.
(_In Press._)
_THE GREAT WESTERN SERIES_
DOWN SOUTH
OR
YACHT ADVENTURES IN FLORIDA
By
OLIVER OPTIC
AUTHOR OF YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD, THE ARMY AND NAVY SERIES,
THE WOODVILLE SERIES, THE STARRY FLAG SERIES, THE BOAT
CLUB STORIES, THE LAKE SHORE SERIES, THE UPWARD
AND ONWARD SERIES, THE YACHT CLUB SERIES,
THE RIVERDALE STORIES, ETC.
_WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS_
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM
1881
COPYRIGHT,
1880,
By WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
Electrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry
No. 4 Pearl Street.
TO MY YOUNG FRIEND,
WILFORD L. WRIGHT,
_OF CAIRO, ILL._,
EX-PRESIDENT OF THE NATIONAL AMATEUR PRESS ASSOCIATION,
WHO HAD THE COURAGE AND THE SELF-DENIAL TO
RESIGN HIS OFFICE IN ORDER TO PROMOTE
HIS OWN AND OTHERS' WELFARE,
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
PREFACE.
"Down South" is the fifth and last volume but one of the "Great Western
Series." The action of the story is confined entirely to Florida; and
this fact may seem to belie the title of the Series. But the young
yachtman still maintains his hold upon the scenes of his earlier life
in Michigan, and his letters come regularly from that State. If he were
old enough to vote, he could do so only in Michigan; and therefore he
has not lost his right to claim a residence there during his temporary
sojourn in the South. Besides, half his ship's company are Western
boys, who carry with them from "The Great Western" family of States
whatever influence they possess in their wanderings through other
sections of the grand American Union.
The same characters who have figured in other volumes of the Series
are again presented, though others are introduced. The hero is as
straightforward, resolute, and self-reliant as ever. His yacht
adventures consist of various excursions on the St. Johns River, from
its mouth to a point above the head of ordinary navigation, with a run
across to Indian River, on the sea-coast, a trip up the Ocklawaha, to
the Lake Country of Florida, and shorter runs up the smaller streams.
The yachtmen and his passengers try their hand at shooting alligators
as well as more valuable game in the "sportsman's paradise" of the
South, and find excellent fishing in both fresh and salt water.
Apart from the adventures incident to the cruise of the yacht in so
interesting a region as Florida, the volume, like its predecessors in
the Series, has its own story, relating to the life-history of the
hero. But his career mingles with the events peculiar to the region in
which he journeys, and many of his associates are men of the "sunny
South." In any clime, he is the same young man of high aims and noble
purposes. The remaining volume will follow him in his cruise on the
Gulf of Mexico, and up the Mississippi.
DORCHESTER, MASS., August 25, 1880.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
MAKING A FLORIDA PORT 13
CHAPTER II.
OUR LIBERAL PASSENGERS 23
CHAPTER III.
A NATIVE FLORIDIAN 33
CHAPTER IV.
A TRIP UP THE SAN SEBASTIAN 43
CHAPTER V.
SAVED FROM THE BURNING HOUSE 53
CHAPTER VI.
MOONLIGHT AND MUSIC ON BOARD 63
CHAPTER VII.
THE ENEMY IN A NEW BUSINESS 73
CHAPTER VIII.
A DISAGREEABLE ROOM-MATE 83
CHAPTER IX.
A BATTLE WITH THE SERPENT 93
CHAPTER X.
THE FELLOW IN THE LOCK-UP 103
CHAPTER XI.
THE HON. PARDON TIFFANY'S WARNING 113
CHAPTER XII.
SUGGESTIONS OF ANOTHER CONSPIRACY 123
CHAPTER XIII.
MR. COBBINGTON AND HIS PET RATTLESNAKE 133
CHAPTER XIV.
THE EXCURSION TO FORT GEORGE ISLAND | 60.1722 |
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Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org
THE THREE IMPOSTORS
or The Transmutations
by
ARTHUR MACHEN
TRANSLATOR OF 'L'HEPTAMERON' AND 'LE MOYEN DE PARVENIR';
AUTHOR OF 'THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY' AND 'THE GREAT GOD PAN'
BOSTON: Roberts Bros, 1895
LONDON: John Lane, Vigo st.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
ADVENTURE OF THE GOLD TIBERIUS
THE ENCOUNTER OF THE PAVEMENT
NOVEL OF THE DARK VALLEY
ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING BROTHER
NOVEL OF THE BLACK SEAL
INCIDENT OF THE PRIVATE BAR
THE DECORATIVE IMAGINATION
NOVEL OF THE IRON MAID
THE RECLUSE OF BAYSWATER
NOVEL OF THE WHITE POWDER
STRANGE OCCURRENCE IN CLERKENWELL
HISTORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH SPECTACLES
ADVENTURE OF THE DESERTED RESIDENCE
THE THREE IMPOSTORS.
PROLOGUE.
"And Mr. Joseph Walters is going to stay the night?" said the smooth
clean-shaven man to his companion, an individual not of the most
charming appearance, who had chosen to make his ginger- mustache
merge into a pair of short chin-whiskers.
The two stood at the hall door, grinning evilly at each other; and
presently a girl ran quickly down, the stairs, and joined them. She was
quite young, with a quaint and piquant rather than a beautiful face, and
her eyes were of a shining hazel. She held a neat paper parcel in one
hand, and laughed with her friends.
"Leave the door open," said the smooth man to the other, as they were
going out. "Yes, by----," he went on with an ugly oath. "We'll leave the
front door on the jar. He may like to see company, you know."
The other man looked doubtfully about him. "Is it quite prudent do you
think, Davies?" he said, pausing with his hand on the mouldering
knocker. "I don't think Lipsius would like it. What do you say, Helen?"
"I agree with Davies. Davies is an artist, and you are commonplace,
Richmond, and a bit of a coward. Let the door stand open, of course. But
what a pity Lipsius had to go away! He would have enjoyed himself."
"Yes," replied the smooth Mr. Davies, "that summons to the west was very
hard on the doctor."
The three passed out, leaving the hall door, cracked and riven with
frost and wet, half open, and they stood silent for a moment under the
ruinous shelter of the porch.
"Well," said the girl, "it is done at last. I shall hurry no more on the
track of the young man with spectacles."
"We owe a great deal to you," said Mr. Davies politely; "the doctor said
so before he left. But have we not all three some farewells to make? I,
for my part, propose to say good-by, here, before this picturesque but
mouldy residence, to my friend Mr. Burton, dealer in the antique and
curious," and the man lifted his hat with an exaggerated bow.
"And I," said Richmond, "bid adieu to Mr. Wilkins, the private
secretary, whose company has, I confess, become a little tedious."
"Farewell to Miss Lally, and to Miss Leicester also," said the girl,
making as she spoke a delicious courtesy. "Farewell to all occult
adventure; the farce is played."
Mr. Davies and the lady seemed full of grim enjoyment, but Richmond
tugged at his whiskers nervously.
"I feel a bit shaken up," he said. "I've seen rougher things in the
States, but that crying noise he made gave me a sickish feeling. And
then the smell--But my stomach was never very strong."
The three friends moved away from the door, and began to walk slowly up
and down what had been a gravel path, but now lay green and pulpy with
damp mosses. It was a fine autumn evening, and a faint sunlight shone on
the yellow walls of the old deserted house, and showed the patches of
gangrenous decay, and all the | 60.183596 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.1067610 | 1,847 | 53 | ST. MALACHY OF ARMAGH***
E-text prepared by Stacy Brown, Anna Tuinman, Bethanne M. Simms, Ted
Garvin, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)
Transcriber's Note:
In the genealogical tree in Additional Note B, and a few other
locations in the text, dagger symbols have been replaced with +.
A character following a caret sign (^) is superscripted.
Translations of Christian Literature. Series V
Lives of the Celtic Saints
S^T BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX'S
LIFE OF S^T MALACHY OF ARMAGH
by
H. J. LAWLOR, D.D., LITT.D.
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.
The Macmillan Company.
London
New York
1920
Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, Brunswick St.,
Stamford St., S.E. 1, and Bungay, Suffolk.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PRINCIPAL AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO vii
NAMES OF IRISH PERSONS AND PLACES x
INTRODUCTION xii
LIFE OF ST. MALACHY 1
LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD 131
SERMONS OF ST. BERNARD ON THE PASSING OF
MALACHY 141
ADDITIONAL NOTES:--
A.--ST. BERNARD'S DESCRIPTION OF THE STATE
OF THE IRISH CHURCH 161
B.--THE HEREDITARY SUCCESSION OF THE COARBS
OF PATRICK 164
C.--MALACHY'S CONTEST WITH NIALL 167
APPENDIX 171
INDEX 172
PRINCIPAL AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO
A. T.C.D. MS. F. 4, 6, containing the _Vita S. Malachiae_ and a portion
of _Sermo_ ii. imbedded therein. Cent. xiii.; copied from a much earlier
exemplar.
AA.SS. _Acta Sanctorum._
A.F.M. _Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland by the Four Masters_, ed. J.
O'Donovan, 1851.
A.I. Annals of Inisfallen, in O'Conor, _Rerum Hibernicarum Scriptores_,
1814-1826, vol. ii.
A.L.C. _Annals of Loch Ce_, ed. W. M. Hennessy (R.S.), 1871.
A.T. _Annals of Tigernach_ (so called: see J. MacNeill in _Eriu_, vii.
30), ed. W. Stokes, in _Revue Celtique_, xvi.-xviii.
A.U. _Annals of Ulster, otherwise Annals of Senat_, ed. W. M. Hennessy
and B. MacCarthy, 1887-1901.
Adamnan. The Life of St. Columba, written by Adamnan, ed. W. Reeves
(Irish Archaeological and Celtic Society), 1857.
Archdall. M. Archdall, _Monasticon Hibernicum_, 1786: the earlier part
ed. by P. F. Moran, 1873.
C.M.A. _Chartularies of St. Mary's Abbey, Dublin_, ed. J. T. Gilbert
(R.S.), 1884.
_Cant._ S. Bernardi Sermones in Cantica, in _P.L._ clxxxiii. 779 ff.
(1879): English Translation by S. J. Eales, _The Life and Works of St.
Bernard_, vol. iv., 1896.
Colgan, _A.S.H._ J. Colgan, _Acta Sanctorum Hiberniae_, Lovanii, 1645,
tom. i.
D.A.I. The Dublin Annals of Inisfallen, Royal Irish Academy MS. 23, F.
9.
_De Cons._ S. Bernardi _De Consideratione Libri V._, in _P.L._ clxxxii.
727 ff. (1879): English Translation by G. Lewis, 1908.
_De Dil._ S. Bernardi _De Diligendo Deo_ in _P.L._ clxxxii. 973 ff.
(1879). English Translations by M. C. and C. Patmore, second ed., 1884,
and E. G. Gardner, 1916.
Dugdale. W. Dugdale, _Monasticon Anglicanum_, ed. J. Caley, H. Ellis and
B. Bandinel, 1817-30.
Eadmer. Eadmeri _Historia Novorum in Anglia_, ed. M. Rule (R.S.), 1884.
_Ep._ S. Bernardi Epistolae in _P.L._ clxxxii. 67 ff. (1879): English
Translation in S. J. Eales, _The Life and Works of St. Bernard_, vols.
i.-iii. (1889-1896).
Giraldus, _Expug._; _Gest._; _Top._ _Giraldi Cambrensis Opera_, ed. J.
S. Brewer, J. F. Dimock and G. F. Warner (R.S.), 1861-1901. _Expugnatio
Hibernica_, vol. v. p. 207 ff.; _De Rebus a se Gestis_, vol. i. p. 1
ff.; _Topographia Hibernica_, vol. v. p. 1 ff.
Gorman. _The Martyrology of Gorman_, ed. W. Stokes (Henry Bradshaw
Society), 1895.
Gougaud. L. Gougaud, _Les Chretientes Celtiques_, 1911.
Gwynn. The Book of Armagh, ed. J. Gwynn, 1913.
J.R.S.A.I. _Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland_:
references to volumes according to the consecutive numbering.
Jaffe. _Regesta Pontificum Romanorum_, ed. P. Jaffe, 1851.
John of Hexham. _Historia Johannis Prioris Hagustaldensis Ecclesiae_, in
_Symeonis Monachi Dunelmensis Opera Omnia_, ed. T. Arnold (R.S.), ii.
(1885), 284 ff.
K. Codex Kilkenniensis; Marsh's Library, Dublin, MS. Z. 1.5, containing
the _Vita S. Malachiae_. Cent. xv.
Keating. G. Keating, _History of Ireland_, ed. D. Comyn and P. S.
Dinneen (Irish Texts Society), 1902-1914.
L.A.J. _County Louth Archaeological Journal._
L.B. Leabhar Breac, Royal Irish Academy MS. (Facsimile ed. 1876.)
Lanigan. J. Lanigan, _An Ecclesiastical History of Ireland... to the
Beginning of the Thirteenth Century_, 1829.
M.G.H. _Monumenta Germaniae Historica._
Mansi. _Sacrorum Conciliorum nova et amplissima Collectio_, ed. J. D.
Mansi, 1759-1798.
O.C.C. _The Book of Obits and Martyrology of the Cathedral Church of the
Holy Trinity, commonly called Christ Church, Dublin_, ed. J. C.
Crosthwaite and J. H. Todd (Irish Archaeological Society), 1844.
Oengus. _The Martyrology of Oengus the Culdee_, ed. W. Stokes (Henry
Bradshaw Society), 1905.
O'Hanlon. J. O'Hanlon, _The Life of Saint Malachy O'Morgair_, 1859.
O'Hanlon, _Saints_. J. O'Hanlon, _Lives of the Irish Saints_, vols.
i.-ix., 1875-1901.
P.L. _Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Latina_, ed. J. P. Migne.
Petrie. G. Petrie, _The Ecclesiastical Architecture of Ireland...
comprising an Essay on the Origin and Uses of the Round Towers of
Ireland_, | 60.426171 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.3287340 | 392 | 96 |
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AN AMERICAN
ROBINSON CRUSOE
FOR AMERICAN BOYS AND GIRLS
THE ADAPTATION, WITH ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS
BY
SAMUEL B. ALLISON, Ph.D.
ASSISTANT SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS, CHICAGO, ILL.
EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO
COPYRIGHT, 1918
BY
EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY
CONTENTS
I Robinson with His Parents 7
II Robinson as an Apprentice 10
III Robinson's Departure 13
IV Robinson Far from Home 17
V The Shipwreck 19
VI Robinson Saved 21
VII The First Night on Land 23
VIII Robinson on an Island 28
IX Robinson's Shelter 30
X Robinson Makes a Hat 34
XI Robinson's Calendar 38
XII Robinson Makes a Hunting Bag 41
XIII Robinson Explores the Island 44
XIV Robinson as a Hunter 48
XV Robinson's Shoes and Parasol 51
XVI Getting Fire 53
XVII Robinson Makes Some Furniture 55
XVIII Robinson Becomes a Shepherd 57
XIX Robinson Builds a Home for His Goats 60
XX Robinson Gets Ready for Winter 64
XXI How Robinson Lays up a Store of Food 67
XXII Robinson's Diary 70
XXIII Robinson is Sick 74
XXIV Robinson's Bower 77
XXV Robinson Again Explores His Island 81
XXVI | 60.648144 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.4591150 | 197 | 217 |
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CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS
BY
HENRY SYDNOR HARRISON
WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY R.M. CROSBY
(_This book was first published pseudonymously in February, 1911_)
1910, 1914.
TO NAWNY: HER BOOK
_NOTE_
_This book, representing the writer's first effort at a long story, has
something of a story of its own. First planned in 1900 or 1901, it was
begun in 1905, and finished at length, in a version, three years later.
Through the two years succeeding it underwent various adventures,
including, if memory serves, two complete overhauling. Having thus
reached by stages something like its present form, it was, in August,
1910 | 60.778525 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.5121590 | 975 | 409 |
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
The carat character (^) indicates that the following letter is
superscripted. If two or more letters are superscripted they are
enclosed in curly brackets (example: M^{R.}).
* * * * *
[Illustration: titlepage]
[Illustration: _J. Rodgers, sc._
_View of the Senate of the United States in Session._
M^{R.} BENTON ON THE FLOOR.
_from a large Engraving Published by E. Anthony_
New York, D Appleton & C^{o.}]
THIRTY YEARS' VIEW;
OR,
A HISTORY OF THE WORKING OF THE AMERICAN
GOVERNMENT FOR THIRTY YEARS,
FROM 1820 TO 1850.
CHIEFLY TAKEN
FROM THE CONGRESS DEBATES, THE PRIVATE PAPERS OF GENERAL JACKSON,
AND THE SPEECHES OF EX-SENATOR BENTON, WITH HIS
ACTUAL VIEW OF MEN AND AFFAIRS:
WITH
HISTORICAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, AND SOME NOTICES OF EMINENT
DECEASED COTEMPORARIES.
BY A SENATOR OF THIRTY YEARS.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET.
LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN.
1883.
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1856, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
CHAP. PAGE
I. Inauguration of Mr. Van Buren 7
II. Financial and Monetary Crisis--General Suspension
of Specie Payments by the Banks 9
III. Preparation for the Distress and Suspension 11
IV. Progress of the Distress, and Preliminaries
for the Suspension 16
V. Actual Suspension of the Banks--Propagation
of the Alarm 20
VI. Transmigration of the Bank of the United
States from a Federal to a State Institution 23
VII. Effects of the Suspension--General Derangement
of Business--Suppression and Ridicule
of the Specie Currency--Submission
of the People--Call of Congress 26
VIII. Extra Session--Message, and Recommendations 28
IX. Attacks on the Message--Treasury Notes 32
X. Retention of the Fourth Deposit Instalment 36
XI. Independent Treasury and Hard Money Payments 39
XII. Attempted Resumption of Specie Payments 42
XIII. Bankrupt Act against Banks 43
XIV. Bankrupt Act for Banks--Mr. Benton's
Speech 45
XV. Divorce of Bank and State--Mr. Benton's
Speech 56
XVI. First Regular Session under Mr. Van Buren's
Administration--His Message 65
XVII. Pennsylvania Bank of the United States--Its
Use of the Defunct Notes of the expired
Institution 67
XVIII. Florida Indian War--Its Origin and Conduct 70
XIX. Florida Indian War--Historical Speech of
Mr. Benton 72
XX. Resumption of Specie Payments by the New
York Banks 83
XXI. Resumption of Specie Payments--Historical
Notices--Mr. Benton's Speech--Extracts 85
XXII. Mr. Clay's Resolution in Favor of Resuming
Banks, and Mr. Benton's Remarks
upon it 91
XXIII. Resumption by the Pennsylvania United
States Bank; and others which followed
her lead 94
XXIV. Proposed Annex | 60.831569 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.5530220 | 1,025 | 443 | LIGHT-HOUSE***
E-text prepared by Henry Flower 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 remarkable original illustrations.
See 48414-h.htm or 48414-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48414/48414-h/48414-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48414/48414-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/stevensonbell1824stev
Transcriber's note
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by tilde characters is underlined
(~underlined~).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: THO^S).
[Illustration: BELL ROCK LIGHT HOUSE
_DURING A STORM FROM THE NORTH EAST_.
Drawn by J. M. W. Turner R. A.
Engraved by J. Horsburgh.]
AN ACCOUNT OF THE BELL ROCK LIGHT-HOUSE,
Including the Details of the Erection and Peculiar Structure
of That Edifice.
To Which Is Prefixed a Historical View of the Institution and
Progress of the Northern Light-Houses.
Illustrated with Twenty-Three Engravings.
Drawn Up by Desire of the Commissioners of the Northern Light-Houses,
by
ROBERT STEVENSON,
Civil Engineer;
Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh;
Member of the Society of Scotish Antiquaries, of the
Wernerian Natural History Society,
and of the Geological Society of London;
Engineer to the Northern Light-House Board, and to the Convention
of Royal Boroughs of Scotland.
Edinburgh:
Printed for Archibald Constable & Co. Edinburgh;
Hurst, Robinson & Co. 90. Cheapside; and Josiah Taylor, 50. High
Holborn,
London.
1824.
TO
THE KING.
_SIRE_,
_It is with much diffidence that the author now lays before Your
Majesty, an Account of the arduous national undertaking of erecting a
Light-house on the Bell Rock,--a sunk reef, lying about eleven miles
from the shore, and so situated as to have long proved an object of
dread to mariners on the eastern coast of Scotland, especially when
making for the Friths of Forth and Tay._
_This edifice being of the utmost consequence to the safety of
Your Majesty’s Ships of War upon the North Sea station, and of the
commercial shipping of this part of the empire, he presumes to hope
for Your Majesty’s favourable acceptance of his work. From the known
partiality, also, of Your Majesty for naval excursions, which so
recently led the Royal Squadron within a comparatively short distance
of the Bell Rock Light-house, in the course of Your Majesty’s most
gracious Visit to your ancient Kingdom of Scotland, he flatters himself
that Your Majesty may feel an additional interest in the subject of
this volume._
_The Introduction to this work brings generally under Your Majesty’s
notice, the important labours of the Scottish Light-house Board,
appointed by an act of the 26th Parliament of Your Majesty’s
illustrious FATHER. Since that period, Light-house stations have been
partially extended over the whole northern shores of Your Majesty’s
British dominions, from Inchkeith in the Firth of Forth, to the Isle
of Man in the Irish Sea, including in this circuit the Hebrides, and
Orkney and Shetland Islands. Much, however, still remains to be done;
and the Board is gradually proceeding, as the state of its funds will
permit, in placing additional Sea-Lights on certain intermediate points
of the coast._
_It cannot fail to be gratifying to Your Majesty to learn, as the
result of the exertions of this Board, that the mariner may now
navigate those regions with a degree of security and confidence quite
unknown to Your Majesty’s Royal Ancestor JAMES THE FIFTH, when he
sailed around this coast in the 16th century, or even, at a recent
period, to Your Majesty’s Royal Brother WILLIAM HENRY Duke of Clarence,
when in early life he traversed those seas._
_With unfeigned sentiments of loyalty and attachment, the author
subscribes himself,_
_Your MAJESTY’S
Most devoted Subject and Servant,
ROBERT STEVENSON_.
THE
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
H | 60.872432 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.8258560 | 1,027 | 388 |
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Internet Archive)
[Illustration:
Photo by Pach Bros., New York
PRESIDENT TAFT
]
_Washington_
_ITS SIGHTS AND INSIGHTS_
BY
MRS. HARRIET EARHART MONROE
_Author of "The Art of Conversation," "The Heroine of the Mining
Camp," "Historical Lutheranism," etc._
_NEW AND REVISED EDITION_
[Illustration]
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1909
COPYRIGHT, 1903 AND 1909, BY
HARRIET EARHART MONROE
[_Printed in the United States of America_]
Revised Edition Published September, 1909
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. The City of Washington 1
II. A Genius from France 4
III. The Capitol Building 12
IV. Interior of the Capitol 17
V. The Rotunda 21
VI. Concerning Some of the Art at the Capitol 26
VII. The Senate Chamber 33
VIII. The House of Representatives 40
IX. Concerning Representatives 46
X. The Supreme Court Room 53
XI. Incidents Concerning Members of the Supreme Court of the 58
United States
XII. Teaching Patriotism in the Capitol 67
XIII. People in the Departments 73
XIV. Incidents In and Out of the Departments 80
XV. Treasury Department 84
XVI. Secret Service Department of the Treasury of the United 92
States
XVII. Post-Office Department 100
XVIII. Department of Agriculture 105
XIX. Department of Chemistry on Pure Foods 109
XX. Department of the Interior 114
XXI. Branches of the Department of the Interior 121
XXII. Bureau of Indian Affairs 126
XXIII. The Library of Congress 131
XXIV. The Pension Office 138
XXV. State, War, and Navy Departments 146
XXVI. State, War, and Navy Departments (_Cont'd_) 155
XXVII. Department of Commerce 161
XXVIII. The Executive Mansion 166
XXIX. Interests in Washington Which Can Not Here be Fully 179
Described
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
President Taft _Frontispiece_
Bird's-eye View of Washington, Looking East _Between_ 4 _and_ 5
from the Monument
Bird's-eye View of Washington, Looking Down _Between_ 8 _and_ 9
the Potomac from the Monument
The Capitol _Between_ 12 _and_ 13
Plan of the Principal Floor of the Capitol 15
Brumidi Frieze in Rotunda 22
Brumidi Frieze in Rotunda 23
The First Reading of the Emancipation 27
Proclamation
The Mace 41
The Speaker's Room 42
GROUP I _Between_ 48 _and_ 49
Statuary Hall
"Westward Ho!"
Washington Declining Overtures from
Cornwallis
The Senate Chamber
Some Prominent Senators
The House of Representatives in Session
Some Prominent Representatives
New House Office Building
Seating Plan of the Supreme Court Chamber 54
GROUP II _Between_ 80 _and_ 81
Justices of the Supreme Court
The Supreme Court Room
The Treasury Building
New Municipal Building
Government Printing Office
New Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, Union
Station
The Smithsonian Institution
The New National Museum
Macerating $10,000,000 of Money 88
The Patent Office 114
GROUP III _Between_ 128 _and_ 129
The Bureau of Indian Affairs
The Congressional Library
Grand Stairway of the Congressional
Library
The Rotunda (Reading-room) of the
Congressional Library
The Pension Office
The State, War, and Navy Departments
The German Embassy
The British Embassy
The New French Embassy
The Russian Embassy
One of the Bronze Doors of the Congressional 133
Library | 61.145266 |
2023-11-16 18:16:47.9441270 | 1,143 | 409 |
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DOROTHY'S
TOUR
BY
EVELYN RAYMOND
NEW YORK
HURST & CO., INC.
PUBLISHERS
THE
DOROTHY BOOKS
By EVELYN RAYMOND
These stories of an American girl by an American author have made
"Dorothy" a household synonym for all that is fascinating. Truth and
realism are stamped on every page. The interest never flags, and is
ofttimes intense. No more happy choice can be made for gift books, so
sure are they to win approval and please not only the young in years,
but also "grown-ups" who are young in heart and spirit.
Dorothy
Dorothy at Skyrie
Dorothy's Schooling
Dorothy's Travels
Dorothy's House Party
Dorothy in California
Dorothy on a Ranch
Dorothy's House Boat
Dorothy at Oak Knowe
Dorothy's Triumph
Dorothy's Tour
_Illustrated, 12mo, Cloth Price per Volume, 50 Cents_
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY THE PLATT & PECK CO.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. AT BELLEVIEU 9
II. ALFARETTA'S LETTER 18
III. THE PREPARATIONS 28
IV. IN NEW YORK 40
V. THE CARNEGIE CONCERT 52
VI. THE OPERA 65
VII. AN EPISODE 82
VIII. "AMERICA" 95
IX. A DREAD CALL IN THE NIGHT 106
X. THE LOCKET 118
XI. THE TOUR BEGINS 129
XII. IN WASHINGTON 150
XIII. SIGHT-SEEING 166
XIV. HIGH HONOR 187
XV. MT. VERNON 203
XVI. THE LAKE CITY 214
XVII. THE ACCIDENT 230
XVIII. CONCLUSION 245
DOROTHY'S TOUR
CHAPTER I.
AT BELLEVIEU.
"Dorothy!" called Jim as he quickly searched the garden at Bellevieu
for her.
"Yes," answered Dorothy, "I am here sitting under the big oak tree."
"I have something for you," cried Jim. "Guess what?"
"Guess what?" echoed Dorothy. "Well it might be--Oh! there are so
many, many things it could be."
"Here, take it. Its only a letter from New York, and never mind what
might be in it, read it--" said Jim, who was altogether too practical
and never cared to imagine or suppose anything. All he wanted was real
facts and true and useful facts at that, which is not a bad trait in a
youth's character.
Dorothy broke the seal carefully and read the letter through once and
then started to read it all over again, exclaiming every once in a
while to herself, "Oh, oh, dear. I am so glad!" and finally, "I must
tell Aunt Betty at once."
Jim, who had been standing there forgotten all this time, broke in:
"Oh, I say, Dolly Doodles, can you tell me what this message is that
so excites you that you have clear forgotten me?"
"Oh, Jim dear," said Dorothy, "it's too wonderful. Just think, I am to
start in two weeks for New York, where Mr. Ludlow will meet Aunt Betty
and I."
By this time Jim and Dorothy were walking rapidly toward the house,
where at once they sought Aunt Betty to tell her the news, only to
find that Mrs. Calvert had gone visiting.
Seeing Old Ephraim in the hall, Dorothy ran up to him and said:
"Ephraim, do tell us where Aunt Betty has gone."
"Ah certainly does know, Misses," answered old Ephraim. "She o'de'd
Metty" (whom we remember as Methuselah Bonapart Washington from the
previous books, Dorothy's Triumph, House Boat and Oak Knowe, and other
volumes wherein our little heroine's story is told). "Metty, he 'lowed
he take her see dat lil lady. De man what gibs de music lessons'
wife."
"Oh, I know now, Ephy," said Dorothy, "Aunty went to see Frau
Deichenberg. Well, Jim, we shall have to wait till Aunt Betty comes
back to tell her our wonderful news. But dear me, what a forgetful
girl I am. I haven't told you all yet. Well, Jim, it's a long story,
so let's go back to the garden and I will tell you all there."
So back to the old oak tree with the rustic seat beneath it they
went. The garden in Bellevieu looked its loveliest. It was early in
September and all the fall flowers with their wondrous hues made the
garden a regular fairy land. And Lem, the little boy the campers had
found on a memorable night, had been true to his word and had tended
the garden faithfully.
You will remember how Lem Haley had cried out at night and when found
and protected by the little camping | 61.263537 |
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