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2023-11-16 18:51:17.3673490 | 2,548 | 7 |
Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOLUME 93.
AUGUST 6, 1887.
* * * * *
ALL IN PLAY.
DEAR MR. PUNCH,
Now that your own particular theatrical adviser and follower, Mr. NIBBS,
has left London for a trip abroad, I venture to address you on matters
dramatic. I am the more desirous of so doing because, although the
Season is nearly over, two very important additions have been made to
the London playhouse programme--two additions that have hitherto escaped
your eagle glance. I refer, Sir, to _The Doctor_ at the Globe, and _The
Colonel_ at the Comedy--both from the pen of a gentleman who (while I am
writing this in London) is partaking of the waters at Royat. Mr. BURNAND
is to be congratulated upon the success that has attended both
productions. I had heard rumours that _The Doctor_ had found some
difficulty in establishing himself (or rather herself, because I am
talking of a lady) satisfactorily in Newcastle Street, Strand. It was
said that she required practice, but when I attended her consulting-room
the other evening, I found the theatre full of patients, who were
undergoing a treatment that may be described (without any particular
reference to marriages or "the United States") as "a merry cure." I was
accompanied by a young gentleman fresh from school, and at first felt
some alarm on his account, as his appreciation of the witty dialogue
with which the piece abounds was so intense that he threatened more than
once to die of laughing.
[Illustration: "How happy could he be with either."]
I have never seen a play "go" better--rarely so well. The heroine--the
"_Doctoresse_"--was played with much effect and discretion by Miss
ENSON, a lady for whom I prophesy a bright future. Mr. PENLEY was
excellent in a part that fitted him to perfection. Both Miss VICTOR, as
a "strong woman," and Mr. HILL, as--well, himself,--kept the pit in
roars. The piece is more than a farce. The first two Acts are certainly
farcical, but there is a touch of pathos in the last scene which reminds
one that there is a close relationship between smiles and tears. And
here let me note that the company in the private boxes, even when most
heartily laughing, were still in tiers. As a rule the Doctor is not a
popular person, but at the Globe she is sure to be always welcome. Any
one suffering from that very distressing and prevalent malady, "the
Doleful Dumps," cannot do better than go to Newcastle Street for a
speedy cure.
The _Colonel_ at the Comedy is equally at home, and, on the occasion of
his revival, was received with enthusiasm. Mr. BRUCE has succeeded Mr.
COGHLAN in the title _role_, and plays just as well as his predecessor.
Mr. HERBERT is the original _Forester_, and the rest of the _dramatis
personae_ are worthy of the applause bestowed upon them. To judge from
the laughter that followed every attack upon the aesthetic fad, the
"Greenery Yallery Gallery" is as much to the front as ever--a fact, by
the way, that was amply demonstrated at the _Soiree_ of the Royal
Academy, where "passionate Brompton" was numerously represented.
[Illustration: The Colonel.]
_The Bells of Hazlemere_ seem to be ringing in large audiences at the
Adelphi, although the piece is not violently novel in its plot or
characters. Mrs. BERNARD-BEERE ceases to die "every evening" at the end
of this week at the Opera Comique until November. I peeped in, a few
days since, just before the last scene of _As in a Looking-Glass_, and
found the talented lady on the point of committing her nightly suicide.
Somehow I missed the commencement of the self-murder, and thus could not
satisfactorily account for her dying until I noticed that a double-bass
was moaning piteously. Possibly this double-bass made Mrs. BERNARD-BEERE
wish to die--it certainly created the same desire on my part. Believe
me, yours sincerely,
ONE WHO HAS GONE TO PIECES.
* * * * *
OUR EXCHANGE AND MART.
HOLIDAY INQUIRIES.
ELIGIBLE CONTINENTAL TRAVELLING COMPANION.--A D.C.L., B.M., and R.S.V.P.
of an Irish University, is desirous of meeting with one or two Young
English Dukes who contemplating, as a preliminary to their taking their
seats in the House of Lords, passing a season at Monaco, would consider
the advertiser's society and personal charge, together with his
acquaintance with a system of his own calculated to realise a
substantial financial profit from any lengthened stay in the locality,
an equivalent for the payment of his hotel, travelling, and other
incidental expenses. Highest references given and expected. Apply to
"MASTER OF ARTS." Blindhooky. County Cork.
* * * * *
INVALID OUTING. EXCEPTIONAL ADVANTAGES.--A confirmed Invalid, formerly
an active member of the Alpine Club, who has temporarily lost the use of
his legs, and has in consequence hired a Steam-traction engine attached
to which, in a bath-chair, he proposes making a prolonged excursion
through the most mountainous districts of Wales, is anxious to meet with
five other paralytics who will join him in his contemplated undertaking,
and bear a portion of the expense. As he will take in tow two furniture
vans containing respectively a Cottage-Hospital and a Turkish-bath, and
be accompanied by three doctors, and a German Band, it is scarcely
necessary for him to point out that the details of the trip will be
carried out with a due regard to the necessities of health and
recreation. While the fact that a highly respectable firm of Solicitors
will join him _en route_, will be a guarantee that any vexatious
litigation instituted against him by local boroughs for the crushing and
otherwise damaging their gas and water-mains, or running into their
lamp-posts will, if it occur, be jealously watched and effectually dealt
with. In the not unforeseen, though by no means expected event of the
Traction Engine becoming by some accident permanently wedged in and
unable to move from some inaccessible pass, it is understood that the
party shall separate, and that each member shall be at liberty to return
home by any _route_ he may select for himself as most convenient and
available for the purpose. For all further particulars apply to X. X.
X., Struggle-on-the-Limp, Lame End, Beds.
* * * * *
LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. RARE OPPORTUNITY.--An impecunious Nobleman, whose
income has been seriously reduced owing to the prevailing agricultural
depression, would be willing to let his Family Mansion to a considerate
tenant at a comparatively low rental. As half the furniture has been
seized under a distress-warrant, and as a man in possession is
permanently installed, under a bill of sale, in charge of the rest, a
recluse of aesthetic tastes, to whom a series of rooms entirely devoid of
furniture would present a distinct attraction, and who would find a
little friendly social intercourse not an altogether disagreeable
experience, might discover in the above an eligible opportunity. Some
excellent fishing can be had on the sly in the small hours of the
morning by dodging the local Middle-man to whom it has been let. Capital
rat-shooting over nearly an eighth of an acre of wild farm-yard
buildings. Address, "MARQUIS." Spillover. Herts.
* * * * *
THE BEST PART OF HALF A PACK OF HOUNDS FOR SALE.--A Midland County
Squire, who, through having come into a Suburban Omnibus business, is
about to relinquish his position as a county gentleman, is anxious to
find a purchaser for what is left of a Pack of Hounds, of which he has
for several years been the acknowledged Master. The "remnant" consists
of a Dachshund, a Setter, slightly blind of one eye, two Drawing-room
Pugs, a Lurcher, and a French Poodle, who can tell fortunes with a pack
of cards, jump through three papered hoops at a time, walk round the
room on his fore legs, and take five o'clock tea with any assembled
company. Any enthusiastic huntsman wishing "to ride to hounds" in the
middle of August, could, with a little preliminary training, scarcely
fail to find in the above all the elements that would provide him with a
capital run, even at this comparatively early season of the sporting
year. With a red herring tied on to the fox, they could be warranted not
to miss the scent; and, failing their performances in the field, might
be safely relied on as a striking feature in any provincial Circus. The
advertiser would be glad to hear from a respectable and responsible
sausage manufactory.--Apply, MASTER, Packholme, Kenilworth.
* * * * *
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE POETS.
"A CYCLE OF CATHAY."
_Locksley Hall._]
* * * * *
SOME MORE OFFICIAL JILLS.
(_Whom Mr. Punch, with his characteristic sense of justice and
fair-play, is proud to recognise as no less representative than his
earlier types--although he could wish he had the pleasure of
encountering them a little more frequently._)
SCENE--_A large Branch Post Office. The weather is oppressively warm,
and the Public slightly irritable in consequence. Behind the counter are
three Young Ladies, of distinctly engaging appearance, whom we will
call_ Miss GOODCHILD, Miss MEEKIN, _and_ Miss MANNERLY, _respectively.
As the Curtain rises_, Miss GOODCHILD _is laboriously explaining to an
old lady with defective hearing the relative advantages of a Postal and
a Post Office Order_.
_The Old Lady._ Just say it over again, so that a body can hear ye. You
young Misses ought to be taught to speak _out_,'stead o' mumbling
the way you do. _Why_ can't ye give me a Postal Order for
five-and-fourpence, and a'done with it, eh?
_Miss Goodchild (endeavouring to speak distinctly)._ A _Post Office_
Order will be what you require. See, you just fill in that form, and
then I'll make it out--it's quite simple.
_Old Lady._ Yes, I dessay, _anything_ to save yourselves a little
trouble! You're all alike, you Post-Office young women. As if I couldn't
send five-and-fourpence to my boy down at Toadley in the 'Ole, without
filling up a parcel o' nonsense!
_Person behind (with a talent for grim irony of a heavy order)._ Can you
inform me whether there are any arrangements for providing luncheon for
the Public--because, as it appears I am to spend the entire _day_
here----
_Miss Goodchild | 2,053.387389 |
2023-11-16 18:51:17.5604560 | 122 | 6 | PRAYER-BOOK AND ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND***
credit
Transcribed from the 1863 Rivingtons edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
PROPOSED SURRENDER OF THE PRAYER-BOOK AND
ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
A LETTER
TO THE
LORD BISHOP OF LONDON,
ON
PROFESSOR STANLEY'S VIEWS
OF
CLERICAL AND UNIVERSITY "SUBSCRIPTION."
* * | 2,053.580496 |
2023-11-16 18:51:17.5658650 | 1,603 | 13 |
Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
A MYSTERIOUS
DISAPPEARANCE
BY
GORDON HOLMES
NEW YORK
EDWARD J. CLODE
156 FIFTH AVENUE
1905
Copyright, 1905, by
EDWARD J. CLODE
_The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass._
CONTENTS
I "_Last Seen at Victoria_!" 1
II _Inspector White_ 12
III _The Lady's Maid_ 22
IV _No. 61 Raleigh Mansions_ 30
V _At the Jollity Theatre_ 41
VI _Miss Marie le Marchant_ 48
VII _In the City_ 56
VIII _The Hotel du Cercle_ 64
IX _Breaking the Bank_ 72
X _Some Good Resolutions_ 83
XI _Theories_ 91
XII _Who Corbett Was_ 101
XIII _A Question of Principle_ 109
XIV _No. 12 Raleigh Mansions_ 119
XV _Mrs. Hillmer Hesitates_ 131
XVI _Foxey_ 142
XVII _A Possible Explanation_ 152
XVIII _What Happened on the Riviera_ 163
XIX _Where Mrs. Hillmer Went_ 175
XX _Mr. Sydney H. Corbett_ 183
XXI _How Lady <DW18> Left Raleigh Mansions_ 194
XXII _A Wilful Murder_ 205
XXIII _The Letter_ 216
XXIV _The Handwriting_ 225
XXV _Miss Phyllis Browne Intervenes_ 234
XXVI _Lady Helen Montgomery's Son_ 246
XXVII _Mr. White's Method_ 254
XXVIII _Sir Charles <DW18>'s Journey_ 264
XXIX _How Lady <DW18> Disappeared_ 274
XXX _Sir Charles <DW18> Ends His Narrative_ 285
XXXI _Valedictory_ 297
CHAPTER I
"LAST SEEN AT VICTORIA!"
Alice, Lady <DW18>, puckered her handsome forehead into a thoughtful frown
as she drew aside the window-curtains of her boudoir and tried to look
out into the opaque blackness of a November fog in London.
Behind her was cheerfulness--in front uncertainty. Electric lights, a
nice fire reflected from gleaming brass, the luxury of carpets and
upholstery, formed an alluring contrast to the dull yellow glare of a
solitary lamp in the outer obscurity.
But Lady <DW18> was a strong-minded woman. There was no trace of doubt in
the wrinkled brows and reflective eyes. She held back the curtains with
her left hand, buttoning a glove at the wrist with the other. Fog or no
fog, she would venture forth, and she was already dressed for the
weather in tailor-made costume and winter toque.
She was annoyed, but not disconcerted by the fog. Too long had she
allowed herself to take things easily. The future was as murky as
the atmosphere; the past was dramatically typified by the pleasant
surroundings on which she resolutely turned her back. Lady <DW18> was
quite determined as to her actions, and a dull November night was a
most unlikely agent to restrain her from following the course she had
mapped out.
Moving to the light again, she took from her pocket a long, closely
written letter. Its details were familiar to her, but her face hardened
as she hastily ran through it in order to find a particular passage.
At last she gained her object--to make quite sure of an address. Then
she replaced the document, stood undecided for a moment, and touched an
electric bell.
"James," she said, to the answering footman, "I am going out."
"Yes, milady."
"Sir Charles is not at home?"
"No, milady."
"I am going to Richmond--to see Mrs. Talbot. I shall probably not return
in time for dinner. Tell Sir Charles not to wait for me."
"Shall I order the carriage for your ladyship?"
"Will you listen to me and remember what I have said?"
"Yes, milady."
James ran downstairs, opened the door, bowed as Lady <DW18> passed into
Portman Square, and then confidentially informed Buttons that "the
missus" was in a "rare old wax" about something.
"She nearly jumped down my bloomin' throat when I asked her if she would
have the carriage," he said.
Her ladyship's mood did not soften when she drifted from the fixed
tenure of Wensley House, Portman Square, into the chaos of Oxford Street
and fog at 5.30 on a November evening.
Though not a true "London particular," the fog was chilly, exasperating,
tedious. People bumped against each other without apology, 'buses
crunched through the traffic with deadly precision, pair-horse vans
swept around corners with magnificent carelessness.
In the result, Lady <DW18>, who meant to walk, as she was somewhat in
advance of the time she had fixed on for this very important engagement,
took a hansom. In her present mood slight things annoyed her. Usually,
the London cab-horse is a thoughtful animal; he refuses to hurry; when
he falls he lies contented, secure in the knowledge that for five
blissful minutes he will be at complete rest. But this misguided
quadruped flew as though oats and meadow-grass awaited him at Victoria
Station on the Underground Railway.
He raced down Park Lane, skidded past Hyde Park Corner, and grated the
off-wheel of the hansom against the kerb outside the station within
eight minutes.
In other words, her ladyship, if she would obey the directions contained
in the voluminous letter, was compelled to kill time.
As she stepped from the vehicle and halted beneath a lamp to take a
florin from her purse, a tall, ulster-wrapped gentleman, walking rapidly
into Victoria Street, caught a glimpse of her face and well-proportioned
form.
Instantly his hat was off.
"This is an unexpected pleasure, Lady <DW18>. Can I be of any service?"
She bit her lip, not unobserved, but the law of Society forced her
features into a bright smile.
"Oh, Mr. Bruce, is it you? I am going to see my sister at Richmond.
Isn't the weather horrid? I shall be so glad if you will put me into the
right train."
Mr. Claude Bruce, barrister and man about town, whose clean-cut features
and dark, deep-set eyes made him as readily recognizable, knew that she
would have been much better pleased had he passed without greeting. Like
the footman, he wondered why she did not drive in her carriage rather
than travel by the Underground Railway on such a night. He guessed that
she was perturbed--that her voluble explanation was a disguise.
He reflected | 2,053.585905 |
2023-11-16 18:51:17.5668020 | 4,765 | 43 |
The Christian Foundation,
Or,
Scientific and Religious Journal
Vol. 1. No 3.
March, 1880.
CONTENTS
The Influence Of The Bible Upon Moral And Social Institutions.
The Influence Of The Bible Upon Social Life And Social Institutions.
Law, Cause, And Agent.
The Inconsistency Of Modern Unbelievers Or Materialists.
Materialism In Its Bearings Upon Person And Personality.
Was It Right?
It Only Needs To Be Seen, And Its Ugliness At Once Appears.
Did The Race Ascend From A Low State Of Barbarism?
The Flood Viewed From A Scientific And Biblical Standpoint.
The Mosaic Law In Greece, In Rome, And In The Common Law Of England.
Did Adam Fall Or Rise?
Did They Dream It, Or Was It So?
Miscellaneous.
THE INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE UPON MORAL AND SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS.
It is profitable for us to occasionally survey the dark arena where men
have played their part, in lonely gloom, without a Savior and without a
God. Pagan morality, being without the motives and restraints of revealed
religion, and guided wholly by the passions and the lights of reason and
nature, is grossly defective. It has no settled standard of right and
wrong. It is vain to look, in all heathen philosophy for any settled
principles of duty or motives that commend themselves to enlightened
minds.
What is the basis and character of virtue? What is the law of moral
conduct? What is the object which governs it? In what does human happiness
consist? These are questions which have never been satisfactorily answered
by the unaided powers of the human mind. The annals of Pagan history show
the real results of all their speculations upon these questions. They are
comprehensively presented in the following: "They became vain in their
imaginations and their foolish hearts were darkened. They were filled with
all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness,
envy, murder, deceit, malignity. They were backbiters, haters of God,
despiteful, proud, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
without natural affection, implacable and unmerciful." Their manners and
habits were the results of mere whim and caprice when they were not the
results of simple love of wickedness. The vice of one community was the
virtue of another; and refinement in one was unpardonable rudeness in
another. The public festivals celebrated in Egypt are disgraceful upon the
pages of history, being accompanied with shameful practices. Egypt was
noted for corrupt morals as far back as the times of Abraham. Asia Minor
was no better; unrighteousness, sensuality and luxury prevailed. In Greece
there was brutal savageness in its most hideous forms; in the age of its
greatest refinement sin was dressed up in the finest style. The Olympic,
Pythian and Isthmian games, which were kept up to give strength to the
body and courage in the battle, were debasing and corrupting to the lowest
degree of wretchedness. The ages of ancient heroism were filled up with
crime and debauchery. They were fruitful in incest and parricide, and all
the dark and gloomy events which were necessary to make up the most
fearful picture of immorality. The monarchs of Assyria spent their time
mainly in debasing crime and voluptuousness. The brightest and best days
of Babylon were notorious for lewdness and accomplishment in crime and
iniquity; loaded with riches, they spared no pains and withheld no means
in the production of all that gratified their lusts and fed their
passions. In Babylon there was a certain well known temple in which
adultery was legalized by _compulsory law_ for the purpose of increasing
the public revenue. The ancient Pagan religions sanctioned and practiced
the most detestible licentiousness. Cato commended young men for visiting
houses of ill-fame. Such was the very best phase of morals and public
manners in the purest state of Roman society. What must have been the
worst? The worst! Well, I will give you an idea of it. The Emperor Nero
drove through the streets of the capital with his mistress in a state of
nudity; and the Emperor Commodus first seduced and then murdered his own
sister. Here reason, blinded by lust, was their guide. These people were
not troubled with that terrible book called the Bible. Happy (?) state.
How would we like to have our homes in the midst of such fellows? Their
conscience had no fastenings, how could their doctrines excite to moral
virtue?
How much better are the principles of modern infidels? Bolingbroke's
morality is all embraced in self-love. Hobbes claims that the only basis
of right and wrong is the civil law. Rousseau says all the morality of
actions is in the judgement we ourselves form of them. Shaftsbury says,
all the obligations to be virtuous arise from the advantages of virtue,
and the disadvantages of vice. Have such moral principles ever reformed
the world? Do they reform their advocates? Did you ever know a man to
reform after he became an advocate of such principles? Did you ever know a
man to reform after understanding and abandoning the Christian religion?
If any such ever reformed their lives after setting themselves on Pagan
ground, by opposing Christianity, I have yet to learn the fact. It is the
morality of a wicked world that simply asks for the profitable, and not
the right; which inquires not for duty, but for self-interest--for the
opinions of men; it is a body without a spirit--a whitewashed
sepulchre--splendid only in sepulchral greatness.
Morality rests not upon principles that clothe themselves in various garbs
to please the different fancies of the different ages, consulting simply
the spirit of the times. Such morality is one thing to-day and quite
another to-morrow--it is variable as the seasons. It adapts itself to the
occasion--to the hour. It is very pliant--it has no conscience, but is
always popularity-seeking. The morality of the Christian religion is very
different. In the New Testament we find a morality as pure, lofty and
unchanging as its divine author; it purifies and regulates the inner
man--"make the tree good and the fruit _will be good_." The Bible settles
the great question of duty. It teaches us that to do right is to do that
which is right in itself, from _pure_ motives and with a _right spirit_.
These two things God hath joined together, viz: the right deed from right
motives, and the right spirit. A man's conscience may be satisfied without
the right motives and without the right spirit, but that is not enough.
It is not enough for a man to have the right spirit and the right motives,
unless he does that which is right in itself. Conscience may be warped by
malevolence, selfishness, prejudice, or education, until the man is led to
do that which is detestable in the sight of God. The time may come when
this man will regret his foolishness, and see that he was wrong, like Saul
of old.
Right things may be done from a wrong spirit, and wrong things may be done
from a right spirit, but the morality of the Christian religion consists
in doing right things from right motives and in a right spirit.
The great motive that governs us as Christian moralists is the fact made
known in these words, _God requires it_. You may talk of the dignity of
correct morals, of their beauty and virtue, and of the terrible nature of
vice, and of the demands of a well-governed selfishness, but all these are
weak compared with the authority of the Supreme Being whom Christians love
and adore.
If we would reform men successfully we must bring the conscience under the
strong bonds of obligation; we must extend the authority of the great
Lawgiver over the understanding, over the conscience, over the memory,
over the imagination, over the entire inner man. This alone will stop the
germinations of sin, and check wickedness in its conception. This is the
tap-root of the tree of virtue--the source of virtuous principles,
demonstrating the truthfulness of the axiom, "Make the tree good and the
fruit will be good." Simple advantage is not the foundation of virtue; it
has a nature aside from its tendencies to worldly profit. Otherwise virtue
would often cease to be virtue, and vice would often cease to be vice.
Anciently there were moral philosophers who plead that utility was the
only foundation of virtue. Paul speaks of some who supposed "Godliness was
gain." Such a morality would be the most uncertain thing in the world;
give it what name you choose, it is mere selfishness.
THE INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE UPON SOCIAL LIFE AND SOCIAL INSTITUTIONS.
Man's entire nature forces him directly into a social state. He is
destitute of the strength possessed by many of the lower animals, and
naturally unable for want of speed to escape their attacks, so care for
life leads him into the closest alliances with his fellows. Childhood and
old age necessitate dependence, and his wants, during those periods, bring
him under obligations to others during his strength and manhood. The
social state is also necessary to the development of his intellectual
nature, and some of his natural affections can be exercised only in such a
state. Benevolence, gratitude, complacency and heroism are not exercised
in an insolated condition--they are called out only in mutual associations
with our fellow-men.
The noblest efforts of intellectual strength and of human ingenuity are
made under the most powerful influence of society. Thus encouraged, men
have collected armies, founded kingdoms and governed them. In such
kingdoms the arts and sciences have flourished in a greater or less
degree, and imperfect morals have crowned their labors and lifted their
minds as high as their unaided powers have permitted. Such has been the
best condition in which the Scriptures ever found the social state. The
structure has been incomplete, resting upon no solid basis, and only
imperfectly cemented together. Such a state of society has always been a
proper object for the modifying and controlling influences of a purer
system of morality, founded upon a pure religion.
What has been the state of society in times past without the light of
revealed religion? There are evils in the social state where the Christian
religion exists, but they were there before the Gospel of Christ visited
those places. It is very common for unbelievers to charge the calamities
of the social state to the Christian religion, but it is a dishonorable
mode of argumentation. The proper question is this: Has humanity ever been
well organized in the social state without the presence and influence of
the Bible? Has it ever been well governed under such circumstances? Have
men respected the social rights and obligations or properly understood
them in the absence of revealed religion? Has the religion of Christ been
a disturber of the social organization where social rights were properly
understood and regarded? or has it set aside the rights and obligations of
men in social life where men were enjoying peaceable, happy relations?
Does its legitimate influence make men more wicked and miserable? An
honest answer to these questions will commend the religion of Jesus
Christ, and do honor to him as our Lord and Master. The Scriptures have
been the means of establishing institutions which have stood for
centuries. Where society has been disjointed and out of order, without
bonds or adhesiveness, the Scriptures have been introduced, banishing
disorder and bringing peace and good will to man. They have silently
operated in the social surroundings and gradually elevated Pagan lands out
of Paganism. They refine and cleanse the cruel, giving them habits which
make them at once superior to all Pagans.
Look at Rome and Persia in comparison with England and America. The
Persian's religion was the best of all the uninspired religions. They
worshiped their unknown god in the sun, moon and stars. In two reigning
principles they sought for an explanation of the present state of good and
evil mixed, which is the perplexing problem that has always confounded
unenlightened reason. The Persian's creed only exercised his intellect and
gratified his curiosity. It brought no power to bear upon his social
relations. Persian history is a mass of crimes, suffering and intolerance.
The government was a despotism, and polygamy gave laws to the domestic and
private relations of the citizens.
Ancient Rome stands foremost in all that moral culture and philosophy
alone can do for social institutions. Its religion was gross in the
extreme, exerting an unhappy influence upon the masses, while it was
disregarded by the priests who taught it, their sole object being to
terrify the multitude and keep them in subjection to the authorities of
the state. It was said by a Roman, "Our nation exists more by religion
than by the sword." But upon an examination of Roman history you will find
servitude, despotism, tumult, revolt, revolution and slaughter, peace and
war. The ambitions of rivals to the throne, and new schemes of rulers,
often deluged the country with blood and carried the sword to remote and
peaceable nations, till the horrors of civil war were realized in almost
every part of the world. Every now and then the powers of some great mind,
irritated by his calamities, having all the vices and none of the virtues
of his species, would rise up and wreak vengeance in deeds which can not
be thought of without sadness of heart.
How much better was ancient Greece? How much better are modern Pagan
nations? These evils have been extinguished in the ratio of the
circulation and influence of the Bible. The relation between the state and
its citizens the Bible recognizes as of divine appointment; the foundation
of civil government is the will of God. Government is an ordinance of God.
"The powers that be are ordained of God." The great author of our rights,
life, liberty, peace, order, public morals and religion, has not left
these interests to chance, anarchy or the social compact. Rulers were
ordained of God, and are rulers, not for their own exaltation, but for the
tranquility, virtue and peace of the governed. Where are the Pagan rulers
who were taught this great lesson so as to feel its importance? When have
they respected the rights of the people? Where have anti-Christian or
Pagan nations, in a single instance, been actuated by any motive save the
restless, factious determination to sink one tyrant for the sake of
elevating another? In Christian lands a free and virtuous people limit the
authority of rulers and assert the rights of citizens. In our country a
mass of public virtue and a weight of moral influence, that restrains the
wrath of man, keeps us from being involved in an ocean of blood at every
popular election. We are not repeating the history of Rome in this
respect. We have been taught to "Render unto Caesar the things which belong
to Caesar." The apostles of Christ have enjoined upon us the duty of being
subject to the rulers of our land, to submit ourselves to every ordinance
of man for the Lord's sake. We have been taught to pray for our rulers.
While we do this we can not be rebellious. Who is so blind as to not see
that the Scriptures will control our citizens with more benevolence than
any other book or any other maxims or set of opinions. When the Christian
Scriptures are duly regarded and their divine authenticity respected
designing, ambitious, corrupting and aspiring politicians will have but
little power to plunge us into crimes and sufferings.
The most important of all our social institutions is the marriage. It is
the paternal source of all other relations. There is no exhibition of the
divine goodness in conditioning our race that is more significant and
lovely. By it our world is a collection of families in which the tenderest
affections are cherished and the worst generally subdued. Here there is a
community of interests. Here we experience the highest motives to a
virtuous influence, especially in forming the character of the youth of
our country. The race is continually multiplying and enlarging. What
wonderful wisdom was it that consulted its honor, its virtue and eternal
destiny by the appointment of the marriage relation? It was the best
method upon which human society could be organized. There are
narrow-hearted, lustful bigots who would do away the social family
compact. They talk about "free thought," "free love," no restraints of
law, no protection of the mother save the voluntary. Such has been the
custom in a few heathen lands; such is the doctrine of a few modern
infidels; such are the habits of a few gregarious communities in Christian
countries. In these communities the sexes are taught from the cradle to
hate the marriage bond. Such a state of society is poisoned and polluted;
is a fearful mass of corruption and rottenness. All moral safeguards are
removed. The offspring are thrown out upon the world with no restraints of
paternal love and wisdom; no obligations of filial love and reverence;
monsters in iniquity, and in a short time equal in crime to those who were
swept from the earth by the waters of the deluge or the flames of Sodom.
Look then for one moment after the evil of polygamy. It existed for awhile
among the ancient Hebrews. Moses suffered it for the hardness of their
hearts. From the beginning it was not so. It was a perversion of the
ancient institution of matrimony. All the evils of that idolatrous age
could not be remedied in a moment; nothing was made perfect until the
appearance of that wonderful counselor--_Christ_. He restored the primitive
integrity of the marriage institution by revoking polygamy and divorce.
Polygamy was never friendly to the physical and mental character of its
population. It is demonstrated beyond the possibility of a doubt that it
is debasing and brutalizing. The Turks and Asiatics are polygamists, but
they are much inferior to the old Greeks and Romans; yet ancient Rome was
a long ways from Heaven's will in respect of marriage ties.
The matrimonial institution of Rome was a compromise between the right and
the wrong. The institution was considered in the light of a civil
contract, entered into for expediency, and protected by the magistrates
because it was deemed a blessing to society; by the law of the twelve
tables it continued during the pleasure of the husband. The result was
that frequent, and often, rapid succession of divorces and marriages took
the place of polygamy, and introduced many of its evils.
The private history of Roman ladies of first rank is a succession of
marriages and divorces, each new marriage giving way to one more recent.
Octavia, the daughter of the Emperor Claudus, married Nero, was repudiated
by him for the sake of Poppaea; this woman was first married to Rufus
Crispinus; then to Otho; and at length to Nero, by whom she was killed.
Nero murdered Thessalina's husband, and married her for his third wife.
Julia, the daughter of Augustus, was first the wife of Marcellus, then the
wife of Agrippa, and then the wife of Tiberius. Such examples are found
almost without number in the annals of Tacitus. The extent to which this
evil was carried may be learned from the poet Martial, who informs us,
that, when the Julian law against adultery was revived as a prevention of
the corruption of the times, Thessalina married her tenth husband within
thirty days, thus evading all the restraints which the law imposed against
her licentiousness. What is the marriage bond worth in such a state of
society?
Where is the state of society essentially better in the absence of the
Christian religion?
The Bible teaches us that the institution is of Divine origin, established
by the Lord himself. It inscribes upon every marriage altar, "What God
hath joined together let no man put asunder." It definitely defines
marriage to be the act of uniting two persons in wedlock, and only two.
According to the Scriptures, this union can only be dissolved by crime or
death. With great tenderness the Bible prescribes the duties of this
relation. "Husbands love your wives as Christ loved the church." This love
is not the cold hearted affection that is after the fashion of free-love
philosophy, but it is after a model that has touched heavenly hearts, and
caused more admiration than all other things combined.
In the ancient dispensation adultery was punished with death. In the
Christian dispensation, it is said with _great emphasis_, "Whoremongers
and adulterers God will judge." There is a place of which it is said,
"Whoso is simple let him turn in hither, but he knoweth not that the dead
are there, and that her guests are in the depths of hell." There is a sin
of which the Bible often speaks, pointing the guilty perpetrators to the
fact that they have none inheritance in the kingdom of God and of Christ.
The history of Pagan nations is little else than a record of crime. By
studying it we may learn something of our obligations to the Christian
religion, and our indebtedness to its pure spirit, which has brooded over
the darkness of the nations, and brought order out of confusion. It will,
also, learn us to value the names father, mother, husband, wife, children
and parents; these names were of little value among Romans. In the annals
of the Roman empire may be found a | 2,053.586842 |
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Produced by Jonathan Ingram and PG Distributed Proofreaders
POEMS
BY
MATILDA BETHAM.
1808.
TO LADY ROUSE BOUGHTON, AS A TESTIMONY OF RESPECT AND GRATITUDE FOR
LONG CONTINUED FRIENDSHIP, THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS INSCRIBED BY HER
OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT, MATILDA BETHAM.
_New Cavendish-street,_
Feb. 3, 1809.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Before this book was printed, I thoughtlessly concluded there must be a
preface; but, on consideration, see no particular purpose it would
answer, and gladly decline a task I should have undertaken with much
timidity and reluctance. All I feel necessary to premise, is, that the
tale in the Old Shepherd's Recollections is founded on an event which
happened in Ireland; and that last spring I suppressed the song ending
in page 65 [The Old Man's Farewell], some time after it had been in the
hands of the composer, from meeting accidentally with a quotation in a
magazine that resembled it.
CONTENTS.
POEMS.--
The Old Fisherman
Lines to Mrs. Radcliffe, on first reading The Mysteries of
Udolpho
The Heir
To a Llangollen Rose, the day after it had been given me by
Miss Ponsonby
L'Homme de l'Ennui
The Grandfather's Departure
Reflections occasioned by the Death of Friends
To Mrs. T. Fancourt
To a Young Gentleman
Fragment
SONGS.--
"Thrice lovely Babe"
"What do I love?"
A Sailor's Song
Another
Once more, then farewell!
Henry, on the Departure of his Wife from Calcutta
Sonnet
On the Regret of Youth
Elegy on Sophia Graham
To Miss Rouse Boughton
To the Same
To the River which separates itself from the Dee at Bedkellert
The Old Man's Farewell
Song--Distance from the Place of our Nativity.
The Old Shepherd's Recollections
Reflection
Retrospect of Youth
The Daughter
Youth unsuspicious of evil
The Mother
Edgar and Ellen
POEMS.
THE OLD FISHERMAN.
'My bosom is chill'd with the cold,
My limbs their lost vigour deplore!
Alas! to the lonely and old,
Hope warbles her promise no more!
'Worn out with the length of my way,
I must rest me awhile on the beach,
To feel the salt dash of the spray,
If haply so far it may reach.
'As the white-foaming billows arise,
I reflect on the days that are past,
When the pride of my strength could despise
The keen-driving force of the blast.
'Though the heavens might menace on high,
I would still push my vessel from shore;
At my calling undauntedly ply,
And sing as I handled the oar.
'When fortune rewarded my toil,
And my nets, deeply-laden, I drew,
I hurried me home with the spoil,
And its inmates rejoic'd at the view.
'Though the winds and the waves were perverse,
I was sure to be welcom'd with glee;
My presence the cares would disperse,
That were only awaken'd for me.
'Whether weary, with toiling in vain,
Or gay, from abundant success,
I heard the same blessing again,--
I met the same tender caress:
'I fancied the perils repay'd,
That could such affection ensure;
By fondness and gratitude sway'd,
I was eager to dare and endure.
'My cot did each comfort contain,
And that gave my bosom delight;
When drench'd by the winterly rain,
I watch'd in my vessel at night.
'But, alas! from the tyrant, Disease,
What love or what caution can save!
A fever, more harsh than the seas,
Consign'd my poor wife to the grave.
'My children, so tenderly rear'd,
And pining for want of her care,
Though more by my sorrows endear'd,
Could not rescue my heart from despair.
'I tempted the dangers of night,
And still labour'd hard at the oar,
My sufferings appear'd to be light,
But I suffer'd with pleasure no more.
'And yet, when some seasons had roll'd,
I seem'd to awaken anew;
My children I lov'd to behold,
How tall and how comely they grew.
'My boy became hardy and bold,
His spirit was buoyant and free;
And, as I grew thoughtful and old,
Was loud and oppressive to me.
'But the girl, like a bird in the bower,
Awaken'd my hope and my pride;
She won on my heart ev'ry hour,
And I could not the preference hide.
'I mark'd the address and the care,
The manner endearing and mild,
Not dreaming those qualities rare
Were to murther the peace of my child:
'That grandeur would ever descend
To seek for so lowly a bride,
Or his fair one, a lover pretend,
From all she held dear to divide:
'That beauty was priz'd like a gem,
Expected to dazzle and shine,
Whose value the world would contemn,
Unless trac'd to some Indian mine:
'Alas! hapless girl! had I known
Thou hadst learnt to repine at thy lot;
That splend | 2,053.587014 |
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Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny
TWO POETS
(Lost Illusions Part I)
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Ellen Marriage
PREPARER'S NOTE
Two Poets is part one of a trilogy and begins the story of
Lucien, his sister Eve, and his friend David in the provincial
town of Angouleme. Part two, A Distinguished Provincial at
Paris is centered on Lucien's Parisian | 2,053.587817 |
2023-11-16 18:51:17.5680430 | 7,328 | 23 |
Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from
scanned images of public domain material from the Internet
Archive.
The Bread Line
[Illustration]
The Bread Line
A Story of a Paper
By
Albert Bigelow Paine
[Illustration]
New York
The Century Co.
1900
Copyright, 1899,
By THE J. B. LIPPINCOTT CO.
* * * * *
Copyright, 1900,
By THE CENTURY CO.
To Those Who have Started
Papers, to Those Who have
Thought of Starting Papers,
and to Those Who are
Thinking of Starting Papers.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE FIRST DINNER 1
II FRISBY'S SCHEME 15
III A LETTER FROM THE "DEAREST GIRL IN THE WORLD,"
OTHERWISE MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND, TO MR.
TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK 29
IV SOME PREMIUMS 36
V A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK
TO MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND 52
VI CASH FOR NAMES 61
VII A LETTER FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO
MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK 84
VIII THE COURSE OF EVENTS 92
IX IN THE SANCTUM 108
X A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK
TO MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND 116
XI THE GENTLE ART OF ADVERTISING 125
XII A LETTER FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO MR.
TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK 144
XIII THE HOUR OF DARK FOREBODING 149
XIV A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK TO MISS
DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND 158
XV FINAL STRAWS 165
XVI AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW 176
XVII A TELEGRAM FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO MR.
TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK 187
XVIII GRABBING AT STRAWS 188
XIX A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK TO MISS
DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND 196
XX THE BARK OF THE WOLF 204
XXI THE LETTER LIVINGSTONE READ 209
XXII THE BREAD LINE 214
XXIII THE LAST LETTER--TO MR. AND MRS. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE, OLD
POINT COMFORT, VIRGINIA 227
The Bread Line
I
THE FIRST DINNER
This is the story of a year, beginning on New Year's eve.
In the main it is the story of four--two artists and two writers--and of
a paper which these four started. Three of them--the artists and one of
the writers--toiled and dwelt together in rooms near Union Square, and
earned a good deal of money sometimes, when matters went well. The
fourth--the other writer--did something in an editorial way, and thus
had a fixed income; that is, he fixed it every Saturday in such manner
that it sometimes lasted until Wednesday of the following week. Now and
then he sold a story or a poem "outside" and was briefly affluent, but
these instances were unplentiful. Most of his spare time he spent in
dreaming vague and hopeless dreams. His dreams he believed in, and,
being possessed of a mesmeric personality, Barrifield sometimes
persuaded others to believe also.
It began--the paper above mentioned--in the cafe of the Hotel Martin,
pronounced with the French "tang," and a good place to get a good dinner
on New Year's eve or in any other season except that of adversity, no
recollection of which period now vexed the mind of the man who did
something in an editorial way, or those of the two artists and the
writer who worked and dwelt together in rooms near Union Square. In
fact, that era of prosperity which began in New York for most bohemians
in the summer of '96 was still in its full tide, and these three had
been caught and borne upward on a crest that as yet gave no signs of
undertow and oblivion beneath. But Barrifield, still editing at his old
salary, had grown uneasy and begun to dream dreams. He did not write
with ease, and his product, though not without excellence, was of a sort
that found market with difficulty in any season and after periods of
tedious waiting. He had concluded to become a publisher.
He argued that unless publishers were winning great fortunes they could
not afford to pay so liberally for their wares.
He had been himself authorized to pay as much as fifteen cents per word
for the product of a certain pen. He forgot, or in his visions refused
to recognize, the possibility of this being the result of competition in
a field already thickly trampled by periodicals, many of them backed by
great capital and struggling, some of them at a frightful loss, toward
the final and inevitable survival of the richest. As for his companions,
they were on the outside, so to speak, and swallowed stories of
marvelous circulations and advertising rates without question. Not that
Barrifield was untruthful. Most of what he told them had come to him on
good authority. If, in the halo of his conception and the second bottle
of champagne, he forgot other things that had come to him on equally
good authority, he was hardly to be blamed. We all do that, more or
less, in unfolding our plans, and Barrifield was uncommonly optimistic.
He had begun as he served the roast. Previous to this, as is the habit
in bohemia, they had been denouncing publishers and discussing work
finished, in hand, and still to do; also the prices and competition for
their labors. The interest in Barrifield's skill at serving, however,
had brought a lull, and the champagne a golden vapor that was fraught
with the glory of hope. It was the opportune moment. The publication of
the "Whole Family" may be said to have dated from that hour.
Barrifield spoke very slowly, pausing at the end of each sentence to
gather himself for the next. Sometimes he would fill a plate as he
deliberated. At other times he would half close his eyes and seem to be
piercing far into the depths of a roseate future.
"Boys," he began, in a voice that was fraught with possibility, and
selecting a particularly tender cut for Perner, who was supposed to
have an estate somewhere, "boys,"--he laid the tempting slice on
Perner's plate, added a few mushrooms, some brown gravy, and a generous
spoonful of potato, then passing the plate to Perner and beginning to
fill another,--"I've been thinking of--of a--of the--greatest"--pausing
and looking across the table with drowsy, hypnotic eyes--"the greatest
scheme on--_earth_!"
Amid the silence that followed this announcement he served the next
plate. Then Van Dorn, who had been acquainted with him longer than the
others, spoke:
"What is it this time, old man?"
Barrifield turned his gaze on Van Dorn and laughed lazily. He was
handsome, rather stout, and of unfailing good nature. He pushed back his
blond hair and rested his gray, magnetic eyes steadily on the artist.
Then he laughed again and seemed to enjoy it. Van Dorn, who was slender,
impulsive, and wore glasses, laughed, too, and was lost. Barrifield
handed him a filled plate as he said:
"You're just right, Van, to say _this_ time--just right. There have
been--other times; other--times." He was filling the third plate. He
paused and laughed till he shook all over. "Van remembers a pictorial
syndicate he and I once started," he said to Livingstone, as he handed
his plate. "We spent nearly--nearly a thousand dollars and a lot of
time--that is, Van did--getting up some stuff, and then sold one picture
to one paper for three dollars!"
He leaned back in his chair to enjoy a laugh, in which, this time, all
joined.
"And never got the three dollars," added Van Dorn, at last.
"And never got the three dollars," echoed Barrifield. "It was a
beautiful scheme, too; Van knows that--beautiful!" At which statement
all laughed again.
Barrifield began to furnish his own plate now, and became serious.
"This scheme is different," he observed at last; "it's been tried. It's
been tried and it hasn't. The scheme that's been tried"--he helped
himself to the rest of the mushrooms and gravy--"we'll improve on."
The others caught the collective pronoun, and began to feel the pleasant
sense of ownership that comes with the second bottle and a scheme.
"Our scheme will beat it to death." He lowered his voice and shot a
cautious glance at the other tables. "Boys," he whispered, "it's a
_high-class weekly_ at a _low price_!"
He looked from one to the other to note the effect of this startling
announcement. It was hardly manifest. The three seemed to be eating more
or less industriously and without much care of anything else. They were
thinking, however.
"It's a field," observed Perner, at last.
"_Barri_field," said Van Dorn, who sometimes made puns.
Barrifield became excited. He did this now and then.
"Field! It's _the_ field," he declared fiercely--"the only field!
Everything else is full. There's a ten-cent monthly in every block in
New York! And"--whispering hoarsely--"even then they're getting rich!
Rich! But there's only one high-class family weekly at less than four
dollars in the country, and that's a juvenile! What I propose"--he was
talking fast enough now--"is to establish a high-class family
weekly--for the whole family--at _one dollar a year_!"
He paused again. His words had not been without effect this time. The
three listeners knew thoroughly the field of periodicals, and that no
such paper as he proposed existed. His earnestness and eager whisper
carried a certain weight, and then, as I have said before, he was
strangely persuasive. Perner, who had once been engaged in business, and
had, by some rare fortune, kept out of the bankruptcy court, was first
to speak. His "ten years' successful business experience," which he
referred to on occasion, gave his opinion value in matters of finance,
though at present he was finding it no easy problem to keep up with the
taxes on a certain tract of vacant property located rather vaguely
somewhere in the Southwest and representing the residue of his
commercial triumphs. He was a tall, large-featured man, cleanly shaven,
and, like Van Dorn, wore glasses.
"Can you do it, Barry?" he said, looking up with an expression of wise
and deep reflection. "Won't it cost you more than that to get up the
paper?"
"That," observed Barrifield, calmly, "is the case with every great
magazine in the country. The paper and printing cost more than they get
for it."
"They make it out of the advertising, you know," put in Livingstone,
timidly.
Livingstone was younger than the others, and had a smooth, fresh face.
"Of course," snapped Perner; "I know that! But they've got to have
circulation before they can get the advertising, and it takes time and
money--barrels of it--to get circulation."
"We'll furnish the time," suggested Van Dorn, sawing at his meat, "if
Barry'll put up the capital."
Barrifield looked up quickly.
"I'll do it!" he announced eagerly; "I'll do it!"
The others showed immediate interest. Barrifield looked from one to the
other, repeating his assertion as if signing a verbal contract. Then his
gaze wandered off into nowhere, and he absently fed himself and waited
for the spirit to move further.
"I'll furnish the capital," he continued deliberately, at length, "and
it won't be money, either." The three faces watching him fell. "That is,
not much money. It'll take a little, of course. I think I know where I
could get all the money I want--a dozen places, yes, fifty of them. But
this isn't a money scheme. If it was I could get it. I know any number
of men, capitalists, that would jump at it. But that isn't what we want.
We want men who know what a paper is, and can do the work themselves."
"We want a good advertising man first," said Perner the businesslike.
"That's good sense," assented Barrifield, at which Perner felt
complimented and began to assume proprietary airs.
"Those things we can hire," Barrifield continued. "We shall want several
men in clerical and executive positions. The general direction and
management of affairs we shall, of course, attend to personally. We
could get a business manager with all the money we need if we wanted
him, but he'd be some fellow with no appreciation of the kind of a paper
we intend to make, and would try to cut down and stick to old methods
until he choked the plan, just as many a good plan has been killed
before."
The third bottle of champagne had been opened.
"That's exactly right," declared Perner, as he lifted his glass, while
the others nodded. "Half the periodicals running to-day are starved and
killed by the business office. Why, MacWilliams of 'Dawn' told me
yesterday that he couldn't buy that Easter poem of mine just because
there had been a kick down-stairs on the twenty-five he paid me for the
Christmas thing, and--"
"What's your scheme, Barry?" interrupted Van Dorn, who did not want
Perner to get started on the perennial subject of editorial wrongs.
Barrifield filled his glass and drained it very slowly. Then he set it
down and wiped his lips with his napkin. The waiter brought coffee and
cigars. He selected a long, dark Panetela, and lighted it with the air
of one making ready to unburden himself of deep wisdom.
"Did any of--you--fellows," he began, puffing the smoke into the air and
following it with his eyes, "ever hear of a man named Frisby? Did you,
Perny? Did you, Stony?" dropping his eyes from one to the other.
"I have," said Van Dorn. "Runs a paper called the 'Voice of Light,' with
prize packages and the worst illustrations in the world."
"That's the man!" assented Barrifield. "Old friend of mine. Yankee by
birth, and one of the keenest publishers in the country. That paper, the
'Voice of Light,' has a circulation of nearly _one half-million
copies_!"
"He ought to get better pictures, then," grunted Van Dorn.
"Exactly!" nodded Barrifield. "And that's one place we'll improve on
Frisby's scheme."
"I didn't suppose religious papers ever had schemes," observed
Livingstone.
Barrifield grinned.
"Did you ever see a copy of the 'Voice'?" he asked.
"I have," said Perner. "It offers twenty-five dollars' worth of books
and a trip to the Holy Land for one year's subscription."
"That's it! That's the paper!" laughed Barrifield.
"But our paper won't be a religious paper, will it, old man?" asked
Livingstone, anxiously.
"Not in the sense of being ecclesiastic. It will be pure in morals and
tone, of course, and, at the same time, artistic and beautiful--such a
paper as the 'Youth's Friend,' only larger in its scope. It will, as I
have said before, appeal to the whole family, young and old, and that is
another improvement we'll make on Frisby's scheme."
"What's the price of Frisby's paper?" asked Perner.
"Two dollars a year. Poor matter, poor pictures, poor paper, poor
printing, poor prizes, and two dollars a year. We'll give them
high-class matter, high-class pictures, fine printing, beautiful paper,
splendid prizes, all for one dollar a year; and that's where we'll make
the third and great improvement on Frisby's scheme."
"But how'll you do it without money, Barry? That's the improvement we
want," laughed Livingstone.
"That," said Barrifield, letting his voice become a whisper once
more--"that isn't an improvement. _That's Frisby's scheme!_"
II
FRISBY'S SCHEME
Barrifield lighted a fresh cigar and blew more smoke into the air.
"Frisby told me himself," he said drowsily, and apparently recalling
certain details from the blue curling wreaths. "I lent him money and
helped him into a position when he first came here, and he's never
forgotten it. He held the position five years and learned the publishing
business. Then he started the 'Voice of Light.' He did it without a
dollar. He told me so."
Livingstone leaned forward eagerly.
"But I say, old man, how did he do it, then?"
"Nerve. Nerve and keen insight into humanity. The 'Voice of Light' had
been started by some fellows who had spent all their money trying to
build it up on the old lines and failed completely. They had tried to
sell out, but nobody would have it. They had no assets--nothing but
debts.
"Then they tried to give it away. They tried a good while. Frisby heard
of it at last, and went over and said they might give it to him. They
did it. He didn't have a dollar.
"He had some good clothes, though, and he put them on. He put on the
best he had, and he went over to the printers. The 'Voice' owed them a
good bill, and they were glad to hear the paper had changed hands. Their
account couldn't get any worse, and Frisby's clothes and manner
indicated that it might become better. He told them he contemplated
getting out at once a special edition of a million copies. He intimated
that if they couldn't handle such a number of papers he would be obliged
to arrange for them elsewhere. They almost hugged Frisby's knees to
keep him from going. He didn't have a dollar--not a dollar.
"Then he went across to an advertising agency and engaged a page in the
'Great Home Monthly' and a page in the biggest Sunday-school paper in
the world. He asked them the discount for cash, and their special
figures to compare with those of other agencies. They looked at his good
clothes and sized up his talk, which was to the point and no waste
words. They booked his order for four thousand dollars' worth of
advertising--quick, before he changed his mind. He didn't have a dollar.
He told me so.
"He went up to the Cambridge Bible Company--biggest Bible concern in the
world--and asked for cash figures on a quarter of a million Bibles. They
thought he was crazy at first, but they made a figure before he went
away that was less than a third what the same Bible sold for at retail
the world over. They told him they had only half the order on hand. He
said that those would do to start with, and that he would let them know
when to begin delivering. He would send over a check when he wanted the
first lot. They said that settlement on the 1st of each month would do.
He did that all in one day,--he told me so,--and he didn't have a
dollar--not a dollar."
Barrifield paused and looked from one to the other to note the effect of
his statements. The three listeners were waiting eagerly for more.
Livingstone and Van Dorn were watching his lips for the next word to
issue. Perner was gazing into his glass, but there was a slight flush
and a look of deep reflection on his face. Barrifield maintained
silence, and the sense of his importance grew powerfully with each
second. By and by his eyes half closed and drifted vaguely into the
unseen. Livingstone promptly recalled him.
"But go on with the story, old man. What was the next step? It's no fair
play to get us all worked up this way and then go to sleep."
Barrifield chuckled lazily.
"That's all," he said; "the rest is mere detail. Frisby went home and
got up copy for his advertising. He gave the Bible as a premium. It was
a three-dollar Bible; sold at three dollars the world over, and you know
there's not supposed to be much profit in Bibles. Frisby filled up the
pages he had engaged, offering in glowing terms the Bible and the paper
both for two dollars. He got the indorsement of the Rev. Montague Banks,
whose name is familiar to every man, woman, and child between the
oceans, and he sold over _one hundred thousand Bibles during the first
six weeks_! _One hundred thousand! He told me so!_"
Barrifield's voice dropped to an intense whisper as he made this last
statement, and the effect was tremendous. The others stared at him, at
the ceiling, and at each other. They repeated the figures, and added
under their breath various exclamations peculiar to each. Livingstone,
who did not swear except when he pounded his finger or stumbled over a
chair in the dark, only said:
"By gad! old man, by gad!"
"In one day," continued Barrifield, leaning half across the table and
emphasizing each word with a slight motion of his head, "in one day he
got in six thousand dollars cash! Think of it!"
The others _were_ thinking, and thinking hard. Perner was first to
venture an objection:
"But that was a religious paper, Barry, with a Bible for a premium. We
could hardly expect--"
"That's just where you're wrong," anticipated Barrifield. "Ours will be
religious in tone, too, and a home paper besides. It will go to every
household that Frisby's would reach, and to thousands besides who are
not of any particular denomination. We also will offer Bibles, but we
will offer other things too. We will offer watches and cameras, and
premiums for boys and girls--dolls, fishing-tackle, and guns--"
"I should think," interrupted Van Dorn, dryly, "that with a gun and a
Bible we might gather in the most of them."
"Now you're talking sense!" said Barrifield, excitedly. "We'll get all
of them. We'll capture the whole country. Frisby had a quarter of a
million circulation in six months. We'll have half a million circulation
in three months. Mark my words--half a million in three months!"
"But the price, Barry! A dollar a year and a premium." Perner was still
unsatisfied. "How are we going to do it?"
Barrifield regarded him in a superior way.
"The paper itself," he said, "will cost us less than fifty cents a year,
even figuring on a basis of only a quarter of a million circulation.
Most of the premiums can now be bought for less than the other fifty.
Those that can't we'll give just the same, only we'll add on the
difference in the form of postage and packing. Nobody ever thinks of
objecting to a slight additional charge for postage and packing."
He drew forth a paper on which there were figures. A round of chartreuse
was being served, and in its yellow radiance all difficulties dissolved
and all things became possible. He laid the sheet down where every one
could see it more or less distinctly.
"The white paper," he continued, "will cost less than four cents a
pound--less than one half-cent for each copy. The paper is always the
big expense. Every publisher will tell you that. The paper for quarter
of a million copies will cost twelve hundred and fifty dollars, the
presswork about five hundred dollars. Everything else will cost less
than another five hundred, so that a hundred and twenty-five thousand
dollars a year will more than cover the cost of getting out the paper;
but say it costs that,--we want to figure full, you know,--and then
another hundred and twenty-five for premiums, or quarter of a million in
all, which will be covered by actual subscription money, to say nothing
of advertising returns, which ought to at least, counting three pages a
week, be not less than one hundred and fifty thousand the first year,
and that will be clear profit to be divided. I've figured it down to
that to be on the safe side. With half a million circulation, of
course, it would be twice as much and no extra cost except for
presswork and white paper. I tell you, boys, it's the greatest scheme
ever conceived."
He ran the items over glibly and pushed the paper across the table for
each to examine in turn. The figures were beautifully made, and seemed
to add correctly. If there were a few minor items, such as postage,
clerk hire, and cost of circulation, omitted, it was probably because
they were too insignificant to be considered. The general feeling was
one of elation. In the spell of silence that lay upon them each began to
dream on his own account, and to build a castle about which shimmered
the radiance of easily acquired wealth. In Livingstone's face there was
a look that did not appear in the faces of his companions. It was not
more eager, perhaps, but it was also tender. He was ten years younger
than the others. Affluence meant much to all of them, but to him it
meant something different--something of which the others did not know.
"But we'll have to have a little money to start on, won't we, old man?"
asked Van Dorn, at last, reflectively, of Barrifield.
"Why, yes; I suppose a few hundred will be needed at the start to pay
such little bills as may be presented. We want to impress everybody with
the fact that we pay cash, don't you see? And discount everything. By
paying the first bill the minute it's presented we'll establish the
necessary credit, of course, and the next bill will be held till we call
for it. Frisby didn't have a dollar,--not a dollar,--but then, the
'Voice of Light' was established, and possibly had some slight income,
besides certain fixtures and connections, all of which we would have to
secure, and probably at some cost. I could invite in all the money
needed--all we need. Of course, it would be better if we could handle
everything ourselves and not feel under any outside obligations. I could
manage a fourth of it all right, or even a third--" He hesitated and
looked dreamily across the table at the others.
Perner was first to speak.
"I'm like Frisby," he laughed. "I haven't got a dollar--in money." He
made this statement in a manner that indicated he might have vast
possessions in real properties or stocks. "I suppose I could manage a
sixth, though, some way," he concluded suddenly, as if to regain a hold
on a golden opportunity that was about to slip from his grasp.
The glamour of prospective riches was upon them. Van Dorn, remembering
an old schoolmate who had prospered in commerce, stated incontinently
that he could borrow anything from two dollars up to two thousand if he
only had a mind to ask for it. Livingstone added hastily that he would
take the other sixth interest, even if he didn't have quite enough money
saved to pay for it right away. At each of these statements Barrifield
assured them that they were talking sense, and that they were as good as
millionaires already. The "Whole Family" had become definite. The
friends were in high spirits as they rose to leave. The waiter who
helped them on with their coats was liberally remembered.
It was eleven o'clock when they stepped out into the winter night.
Barrifield, who was a married man and a suburban Brooklynite, took the
South Ferry car at Broadway. The other three set their faces north in
the direction of their apartments. Van Dorn was a widower, Perner a
confirmed bachelor, and Livingstone also unmarried. They were
untrammeled, therefore, as to their hours and habits.
As they marched up Broadway they laughed a great deal. They were prone
to see the humorous side of life in all its phases, and the new paper
with its various premium combinations furnished a novel source of
amusement. It may be that the champagne stimulated the tendency to
mirth, for the three became really hilarious as they proceeded.
On the corner of Tenth Street they halted. Across the way there was a
long line of waiting men that extended around the corner in either
direction.
"What's that?" exclaimed Perner.
"Why, don't you know?" said Van Dorn. "That's the bread line. They get
a cup of coffee and a loaf of bread every night at twelve o'clock. Old
Fleischmann, who founded the bakery, made that provision in his will.
They begin to collect here at ten o'clock and before, rain or shine, hot
or cold."
"It's cold enough to-night!" said Livingstone.
They drew nearer. The waifs regarded them listlessly. They were a
ragged, thinly clad lot--a drift-line of hunger, tossed up by the tide
of chance.
The bohemians, remembering their own lavish dinner and their swiftly
coming plenitude, regarded these unfortunates with silent compassion.
"I say, fellows," whispered Livingstone, presently, "let's get a lot of
nickels and give one to each of them. I guess we can manage it," he
added, running his eye down the line in hasty calculation.
The others began emptying their pockets. Perner the businesslike
stripped himself of his last cent and borrowed a dollar of Van Dorn to
make his share equal. Then they separated and scoured in different
directions for change. By the time all had returned the line had
increased considerably.
"We'd better start right away or we won't have enough," said
Livingstone.
He began at the head of the line and gave to each outstretched hand as
far as his store of coins lasted. Then Van Dorn took it up, and after
him Perner. They had barely enough to give to the last comers. The men's
hands stretched out long before they reached them. Some said "Thank
you"; many said "God bless you"; some said nothing at all.
"There's more money in that crowd than there is in this now," said
Perner, as they turned away.
"That's so," said Livingstone. "But wait till a year from to-night.
We'll come down here and give these poor devils a dollar apiece--maybe
ten of them."
Livingstone's face had grown tender again. In fancy he saw them
returning a year from to-night with ample charity. And another would
come with them--one who would make the charity sweeter because of
bestowing it with fair hands.
III
A LETTER FROM THE "DEAREST GIRL IN THE WORLD," OTHERWISE MISS DOROTHY
CASTLE OF CLEVELAND, TO MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK
"MY DEAR OLD TRUE: I have both laughed and cried over your
letter, and I have thought, too, a great deal. It was
awfully jolly to think of you and those good friends of
yours dining together on New Year's eve, and there is only
one way I would have had it different, and that way would
have seemed selfish on my part, and unfair to the others,
too.
"I do wish I might have been near by, though, unknown to
you, and heard all that passed, for I know you only told me
the good things the others said, and not all the best
things--those you said yourself. Or, if you did not say
them, you thought them, and were only restrained by modesty.
"I suppose you will get over that by and by, when you are as
old as Perny and Barry and Van (you see, I am beginning to
feel that I know your friends, and call them as you do);
only I hope you won't get entirely over it, either, for do
you know, True, that is just one reason why I love you--I
mean because you are fine and manly and modest--just old
True, that's all. And when I came to | 2,053.588083 |
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[Illustration: “Full speed ahead!” roared Clay. “Our only hope is to
keep her dead with the current and fight her through.”]
The River Motor Boat Boys on the Columbia
OR
The Confession of a Photograph
By HARRY GORDON
Author of
“The River Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence,”
“The River Motor Boat Boys on the Colorado,”
“The River Motor Boat Boys on the Mississippi,”
“The River Motor Boat Boys on the Amazon,’
“The River Motor Boat Boys on the Ohio.”
A. L. Burt Company
New York
Copyright, 1913
By A. L. Burt Company
THE SIX RIVER MOTOR BOYS ON THE COLUMBIA
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. CROSSING THE MOUNTAINS IN A MOTOR BOAT
II. CAPTAIN JOE FOLLOWS A TRAIL
III. ALEX FINDS USE FOR HIS KODAK
IV. A NEW FACE ON THE RAMBLER
V. WHAT TOOK PLACE ON THE TRAIN
VI. MOURNING AN EMPTY KODAK
VII. PIE THAT LIVED IN A GLASS HOUSE
VIII. A WRECK AND A BABY BEAR
IX. THE MAKING OF A CEDAR CANOE
X. A RABBIT AND A SECRET MEETING
XI. ALEX BECOMES A DETECTIVE
XII. A BEAR, A FISH, AND A TREE
XIII. A MYSTERY AND A FISH SUPPER
XIV. A SWIFT AND PERILOUS RIDE
XV. THE RAMBLER TAKES TO WHEELS
XVI. TEDDY RECEIVES A CALLER
XVII. CAPTAIN JOE TO THE RESCUE
XVIII. CASE MAKES A HIT WITH DOUGH
XIX. WHY THERE WAS NO VENISON
XX. CAPTAIN JOE MAKES A DISCOVERY
XXI. A CAMPFIRE HIGH ON THE HILLS
XXII. THE SURGEON TURNS DETECTIVE
XXIII. THE POLICEMAN MAKES A MISTAKE
XXIV. MORE SURPRISES THAN ONE
CHAPTER I.—CROSSING THE MOUNTAINS IN A MOTOR BOAT.
The motor boat _Rambler_ lay at the very summit of the Rocky Mountains.
She was not in a lake, either, although there were lakes of ice not far
away. She was not in motion, and there was a great silence all around
her.
She lay, propped upright, on a platform car, and the car, with two
broken wheels, stood on a make-shift spur of track on the right-of-way
of the Canadian Pacific railroad. An unusual place to find a motor boat.
But listen.
The _Rambler_ was _en route_ from the South Branch, Chicago, to the
headwaters of the Columbia river. She had passed without serious
accident down Lake Michigan, through the Straits of Mackinaw, through
the Sault Ste. Marie river and canal, and over the crystal waters of old
Superior to Port Arthur, where she had been coaxed to the deck of the
platform car upon which she now stood.
Almost exactly on the boundary line between Alberta and British
Columbia, the flat car had come to grief, and the trainmen had bunted it
to the spur and gone on about their business, promising to order a
wrecker at the nearest telegraph office. The disabled car tilted
frightfully to the rear as it stood on the shaky track, giving the
platform a twenty-five per cent. pitch, and causing the _Rambler_ to
take on a rakish air, like a swaggering person with his hat set on the
back of his head.
A few miles to the east was Laggan, sometimes called Lake Louise, which
is 2,368 miles from Montreal and 5,032 feet above the level of the
Pacific ocean, 500 miles away. About the same distance to the west was
Field, sometimes called Emerald Lake, 2,387 miles from Montreal and over
4,000 feet above tidewater. The highest altitude on the boundary at that
point is 5,200 feet above the ocean, and the motor boat was just about
there.
It was close to sunset of an April day, and the mountain pass was cold
and desolate. There was snow on the peaks, and a cold wind blew
whistling through the narrow cut in the gray rock. There was no living
figure in sight from the sidling platform of the car, or from the
foot-square windows of the _Rambler’s_ tiny cabin. The silence was
broken only by the uneasy wind.
Decidedly it was anything but cheerful outside. Inside, there was a
glowing fire in a small coal stove, and a shaded electric light brought
out the cozy furnishings of the place. The electric generators were not
working, the motors being silent, but there was in the accumulators
sufficient current for the light and the little electric stove upon
which a supper was cooking.
Those who have followed the fortunes of the _Rambler_ to the headwaters
of the Amazon will understand without further detail exactly what kind
of a craft she was. After returning from the South American expedition,
the lads had planned a trip to the Columbia river, and they were now on
their way to Donald, where the motor boat was to be launched into the
waters of that interesting stream.
The boys had worked hard in Chicago all through the winter, and when
April came they were ready for the journey, although their supply of
money was not as large as they had hoped to make it. Of the five who had
visited Cloud island and secured the store of gold hidden in that
semi-volcanic heap of rocks, however, only three were in shape to set
out on | 2,053.684769 |
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the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
VENETIAN LIFE
By William Dean Howells
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION.
In correcting this book for a second edition, I have sought to complete
it without altering its original plan: I have given a new chapter
sketching the history of Venetian Commerce and noticing the present
trade and industry of Venice; I have amplified somewhat the chapter on
the national holidays, and have affixed an index to the chief historical
persons, incidents, and places mentioned.
Believing that such value as my book may have is in fidelity to what
I actually saw and knew of Venice, I have not attempted to follow
speculatively the grand and happy events of last summer in their effects
upon her life. Indeed, I fancy that in the traits at which I loved most
to look, the life of Venice is not so much changed as her fortunes; but
at any rate I am content to remain true to what was fact one year ago.
W. D. H.
Cambridge, January 1, 1867.
CONTENTS.
I. Venice in Venice
II. Arrival and first Days in Venice
III. The Winter in Venice
IV. Comincia far Caldo
V. Opera and Theatres
VI. Venetian Dinners and Diners
VII. Housekeeping in Venice
VIII. The Balcony on the Grand Canal
IX. A Day-Break Ramble
X. The Mouse
XI. Churches and Pictures
XII. Some Islands of the Lagoons
XIII. The Armenians
XIV. The Ghetto and the Jews of Venice
XV. Some Memorable Places
XVI. Commerce
XVII. Venetian Holidays
XVIII. Christmas Holidays
XIX. Love-making and Marrying; Baptisms and Burials
XX. Venetian Traits and Characters
XXI. Society
XXII. Our Last Year in Venice
Index
CHAPTER I.
VENICE IN VENICE.
One night at the little theatre in Padua, the ticket-seller gave us the
stage-box (of which he made a great merit), and so we saw the play and
the byplay. The prompter, as noted from our point of view, bore a chief
part in the drama (as indeed the prompter always does in the Italian
theatre), and the scene-shifters appeared as prominent characters.
We could not help seeing the virtuous wife, when hotly pursued by the
villain of the piece, pause calmly in the wings, before rushing, all
tears and desperation, upon the stage; and we were dismayed to behold
the injured husband and his abandoned foe playfully scuffling behind the
scenes. All the shabbiness of the theatre was perfectly apparent to
us; we saw the grossness of the painting and the unreality of the
properties. And yet I cannot say that the play lost one whit of its
charm for me, or that the working of the machinery and its inevitable
clumsiness disturbed my enjoyment in the least. There was so much truth
and beauty in the playing, that I did not care for the sham of the ropes
and gilding, and presently ceased to take any note of them. The illusion
which I had thought an essential | 2,053.778754 |
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Produced by Richard Tonsing, Richard Hulse and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: THE DISOBEDIENT BOY. _Page 95_]
PRECEPTS IN PRACTICE.
[Illustration: OLD JONAS. _Page 140._]
_THOMAS NELSON AND SONS_,
LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.
PRECEPTS IN PRACTICE;
OR,
_STORIES ILLUSTRATING THE PROVERBS_.
BY
A. L. O. E.,
AUTHOR OF “THE SILVER CASKET”, “THE ROBBERS’ CAVE,” ETC., ETC.
WITH THIRTY-NINE ENGRAVINGS
London:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW.
EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
1887
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Preface.
Dear young friends (perhaps I may rather welcome some amongst you as
_old_ friends), I would once more gather you around me to listen to my
simple stories. I have in each one endeavoured to exemplify some truth
taught by the wise King Solomon, in the Book of Proverbs. Perhaps the
holy words, which I trust that many of you have already learned to love,
may be more forcibly imprinted on your minds, and you may apply them
more to your own conduct, when you see them illustrated by tales
describing such events as may happen to yourselves.
May the Giver of all good gifts make the choice of Solomon also yours;
may you, each and all, be endowed with that wisdom from on high which is
_more precious than rubies_; and may you find, as you proceed onward to
that better home to which Heavenly Wisdom would guide you, that _her
ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace_.
A. L. O. E.
Contents.
I. THE TWO SONS, 9
II. THE PRISONER RELEASED, 21
III. THE MOTHER’S RETURN, 34
IV. THE FRIEND IN NEED, 43
V. FORBIDDEN GROUND, 62
VI. CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE, 76
VII. THE GREAT PLAGUE, 89
VIII. THE GREEN VELVET DRESS, 99
IX. FALSE FRIENDS, 115
X. COURAGE AND CANDOUR, 129
XI. THE SAILOR’S RESOLVE, 146
XII. THE GIPSIES, 158
XIII. FRIENDS IN NEED, 173
XIV. THE OLD PAUPER, 190
XV. THE BEAUTIFUL VILLA, 203
List of Illustrations.
THE DISOBEDIENT BOY, _Frontispiece_
OLD JONAS, _Vignette_
THE FROZEN LAKE, 10
HARRY TENDING HIS MOTHER, 13
DR. MERTON AND PAUL, 16
THE FUNERAL, 18
MARIA AND MARY, 35
WATCHING FOR MOTHER, 38
GOING TO CHURCH, 44
ON A VISIT, 45
OLD WILL AYLMER, 46
SEEKING THE LORD, 57
LITTLE JOSEPH, 63
THE STREET STALL, 65
THE LAWN, 68
MRS. GRAHAM AND JOSEPH, 73
LUCY AND PRISCILLA, 78
THE TEACHER’S STORY, 92
THE PLAGUE IN LONDON, 94
JENNY IN THE STORM, 101
THE MESSAGE, 103
ALIE WATCHING THE CAT, 135
“POOR TABBY!” 136
ALIE AND THE GIPSY GIRL, 161
THE GIPSIES, 163
THE GIPSY’S APPROACH, 169
THE GREEN LANE, 174
THE OLD PAUPER, 191
MRS. WARNER AND JESSY, 206
PRECEPTS IN PRACTICE.
CHAPTER I.
THE TWO SONS.
“A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish man despiseth his
mother.”—PROV. xv. 20.
It was a clear, cold morning in December. Not a cloud was in the sky,
and the sun shone brightly, gilding the long icicles that hung from the
eaves, and gleaming on the frozen surface of the lake, as though he
would have melted them by his kindly smile. But the cold was too intense
for that; there was no softening of the ice; no drop hung like a tear
from the glittering icicles. Alas! that we should ever find in life
hearts colder and harder still, that even kindness fails to melt!
Many persons were skating over the lake—sometimes darting forward with
the swiftness of the wind, then making graceful curves to the right or
the left, and forming strange figures on the ice. And there were many
boys also enjoying themselves as much, although in a different
way—sliding along the slippery surface, and making the air ring with
their merry laughter.
[Illustration: THE FROZEN LAKE.]
One of the gayest of these last was a rosy-cheeked boy, who looked as
though care or sorrow had never traced a line on his face. He had just
made a very long slide, and stood flushed with the exercise to watch his
companions follow him on the glistening line, when Dr. Merton, a medical
man, who was taking his morning walk, and had come to the lake to see
the skating, lightly touched the boy on the shoulder.
“Paul Fane, is your mother better to-day?”
“Oh, she’s well enough—that’s to say, she’s always ailing,” replied the
boy carelessly, still keeping his eye upon the sliders.
“Did she sleep better last night?”
“Oh, really, why I don’t exactly know. I’ve not seen her yet this
morning.”
“Not seen her!” repeated Dr. Merton in surprise.
“Oh, sir, I knew that she’d be worrying me about my coming here upon the
ice. She’s so fidgety and frightened—she treats one like a child, and is
always fancying that there is danger when there is none;” and the boy
turned down his lip with a contemptuous expression.
“I should say that you are in danger now,” said Dr. Merton, very
gravely.
“How so? the ice is thick enough to roast an ox upon,” replied Paul,
striking it with his heel.
“In danger of the anger of that great Being who hath said, _Honour thy
father and thy mother_—in danger of much future pain and regret, when
the time for obeying that command shall be lost to you for ever.”
Paul’s cheek grew redder at these words. He felt half inclined to make
an insolent reply; but there was something in the doctor’s manner which
awed even his proud and unruly spirit.
“Where is your brother Harry?” inquired Dr. Merton.
“Oh, I suppose at home,” replied Paul bluffly, glad of any change in the
conversation; and still more glad was he when the gentleman turned away,
and left him to pursue his amusement.
And where was Harry on that bright, cheerful morning, while his brother
was enjoying himself upon the ice? In a little, dull, close room, with a
peevish invalid, the sunshine mostly shut out by the dark blinds, while
the sound of merry voices from without contrasted with the gloomy
stillness within. Harry glided about with a quiet step, trimmed the
fire, set on the kettle, prepared the gruel for his mother, and carried
it gently to the side of her bed. He arranged the pillows comfortably
for the sufferer, and tended her even as she had tended him in the days
of his helpless infancy. The fretfulness of the sick woman never moved
his patience. He remembered how often, when he was a babe, his cry had
broken her rest and disturbed her comfort. How could he do enough for
her who had given him life, and watched over him and loved him long,
long before he had been able even to make the small return of a grateful
look? Oh! what a holy thing is filial obedience! God commands it, God
has blessed it, and He will bless it for ever. He that disobeys or
neglects a parent is planting thorns for his own pillow, and they are
thorns that shall one day pierce him even to the soul.
[Illustration: HARRY TENDING HIS MOTHER.]
“Where is Paul?” said Mrs. Fane with uneasiness. “I am always anxious
about that dear boy. I do trust that he has not ventured upon the ice.”
“I believe, mother, that the ice has been considered safe, quite safe,
for the last three days.”
“You know nothing about the matter,” cried the fretful invalid. “I had a
cousin drowned once in that lake when every one said that there was no
danger. I have forbidden you both a thousand times to go near the ice;”
and she gave her son a look of displeasure, as though he had been the
one to break her command.
“Will you not take your gruel now?” said Harry, again drawing her
attention to it, and placing yet closer to her that which he had so
carefully made.
“I do not like it—it’s cold—it’s full of lumps; you never do anything
well!”
“I must try and improve,” said her son, struggling to look cheerful, but
feeling the task rather hard. “If you will not take this, shall I get
you a little tea?”
Mrs. Fane assented with a discontented air, and Harry instantly
proceeded to make some; while all the time that he was thus engaged his
poor mother continued in a tone of anxiety and sorrow to express her
fears for her elder son.
“Are you more comfortable now, dear mother?” said Harry, after she had
partaken of her nice cup of tea. Her only reply was a moan. “Can I do
anything else for you?—yes, I see; the top of that blind hangs loose,
and the light comes in on your eyes; I will set it right in a minute!”
and he jumped lightly on a chair to reach it.
His mother followed him with her eyes—her deep, sunken eyes. Gradually
the moisture gathered in them, as she looked at her dutiful son; for,
fretful and unreasonable towards him as illness might sometimes make
her, she yet dearly loved him, and felt his value. When he returned to
her side, these eyes were still fixed upon him; she feebly pressed his
hand, and murmured, “You are my comfort, Harry!”
And there was another Eye beholding with love that obedient and dutiful
child! He who was once subject to an earthly parent, who cared for her
even amid the agonies of the Cross—He looked approvingly down upon the
true-hearted boy, who was filling the post assigned him by his Lord—who
was letting his light shine in his home!
The red sun was setting before Paul returned; for, heedless of the fears
to which his absence might give rise, he had taken his noonday meal with
a neighbour. It was not that he did not really love his fond mother, but
he loved himself a great deal more. He had never chosen to consider
obedience as a sacred duty, and irreverence towards a parent as a sin.
He never dreamed of sacrificing his will to hers; and a smile or a kiss
to his mother, when he had been more than usually selfish or rude, | 2,053.781762 |
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Barbara Weinstock Lectures on The Morals of Trade
SOCIAL JUSTICE WITHOUT SOCIALISM.
By John Bates Clark.
THE CONFLICT BETWEEN PRIVATE MONOPOLY AND GOOD CITIZENSHIP.
By John Graham Brooks.
COMMERCIALISM AND JOURNALISM.
By Hamilton Holt.
THE BUSINESS CAREER IN ITS PUBLIC RELATIONS.
By Albert Shaw.
SOCIAL JUSTICE WITHOUT SOCIALISM
BY
JOHN BATES CLARK
PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL ECONOMY AT
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1914
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE REGENTS OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published April 1914_
BARBARA WEINSTOCK
LECTURES ON THE MORALS OF TRADE
This series will contain essays by representative scholars and men of
affairs dealing with the various phases of the moral law in its bearing
on business life under the new economic order, first delivered at the
University of California on the Weinstock foundation.
SOCIAL JUSTICE WITHOUT SOCIALISM
It is currently reported that the late King Edward once said, "We are
all Socialists, now": and if the term "Socialism" meant to-day what His
Majesty probably meant by it, many of us could truthfully make a
similar statement. Without any doubt, we could do so if we attached to
the term the meaning which it had when it was first invented. It came
into use in the thirties of the last century, and expressed a certain
disappointment over the result of political reform. The bill which gave
more men the right to vote did not give them higher wages. The
conditions of labor were deplorable before the Reform Bill was passed
and they continued to be so for some time afterwards. A merely
political change, therefore, was not all that was wanted, and it was
necessary to carry democracy into a social sphere in order to improve
the condition of the poorer classes. The term "Socialism," therefore,
was chosen to describe a play of forces that would act in this way on
society itself, and was an excellent term for describing this right and
just tendency. The name was quickly adopted by those with whose
practical plans most of us do not agree; but its original idea was
democracy carried into business, and at present that is the dominant
tendency of all successful parties. For six months we have been living
under what may be called "triumphant democracy," not because the
Democratic Party has beaten its rivals and come into control of the
Government, but for a much deeper reason, namely, that a democracy
carried into industrial life is the dominating principle of every
political body that can hope for success. Every party must show by its
action that it values the man more than the dollar. To this extent we
are all democrats and wish the Government to act for the people as well
as to be controlled by the people.
When we differ, it is in deciding on the means to carry out our common
purpose; and here we differ very widely. Some would use the power of
the State to correct and improve our system of industry, and these
constitute a party of reform. Others would abolish that system and
substitute something untried. For private capital they would put public
capital and for private management, public management--either in the
whole field of industry or in that great part of it where large capital
rules. These are Socialists in the modern and current sense of the
term.
One difference of view which was formerly very sharp is now scarcely
traceable. Every one knows that we must invoke the aid of the State in
order to make industry what it should be. The rule that would bid the
State keep its hands off the entire field of business, the extreme
_laissez-faire_ policy once dominant in literature and thought, now
finds few persons bold enough to advocate it or foolish enough to
believe in it. In a very chastened form, however, the spirit that would
put a reasonable limit on what the State shall be asked to do happily
does survive and is powerful. It seeks a golden mean between letting
the State do nothing and asking it to do everything. It is this plan of
action that I shall try to outline, and it will appear that even this
plan requires that the State should do very much. Under an inert
government the industrial system would suffer irreparably.
The thing first to be rescued is competition--meaning that healthful
rivalry between different producers which has always been the guaranty
of technical progress. That such progress has gone on with bewildering
rapidity since the invention of the steam engine is nowhere denied; and
neither is it denied that competition of the normal kind--the effort of
rivals to excel in productive processes--has caused it. It has
multiplied the product of labor here tenfold, there, twentyfold, and
elsewhere a hundredfold and more.
This increased power to produce has rescued us from an appalling evil.
Without it, such a crowding of population as some countries have
experienced would have carried their peoples to and below the
starvation level. Machinery now enables us to live; and if
world-crowding were to go on in the future as it has done, and the
technical progress should cease, many of us could not live. Poverty
would increase till its cruelest effects would be realized and lives
enough would be crushed out to enable the survivors to get a living. Of
all conditions of human happiness, the one which is most underestimated
is progress in power to produce. Hardly any of those who would
revolutionize the industrial State, and not all of those who would
reform it, have any conception of the importance of this progress. It
is the _sine qua non_ of any hopeful outlook for the future of mankind.
I am to speak, however, of _justice_ in the business relations of life,
and it might seem that this shut out the mere question of general
prosperity. The most obvious issue between different social classes
concerns the division of whatever income exists. Whatever there is, be
it large or small, may be divided rightly or wrongly; but I am not able
to see that the mere division of it exhausts the application of the
principle of justice. While it is clearly wrong for one party to
plunder another, it is almost as clearly wrong for one party to reduce
the general income and so, in a sense, rob everybody. A party that
should systematically hinder production and reduce its fruits would rob
a myriad of honest laborers who are ill prepared to stand this loss and
have a perfect right to be protected from it.
Every man, woman, and child has a right to demand that the powers that
be remove hindrances in the way of production, and not only allow the
general income to be large and grow larger, but do everything that they
possibly can do to make it grow larger. It is an unjust act to reduce
general earnings, even though no one is singled out for particular
injury. On this ground we insist on trust legislation, tariff reform,
the conservation of natural resources, etc. I am prepared to claim that
it is in this spirit that we demand that private initiative, which has
given us the amount of prosperity that we have thus far obtained, shall
be enabled to continue its work without being supplanted by monopoly.
In a general way I should include public monopoly as well as private
among the things which would put a damper on the progress of
improvement and lessen the income on which the comfort of laborers in
the near future will be dependent. Monopoly of any sort is hostile to
improvement, and in this chiefly lies the menace which it holds for
mankind.
It is a fairly safe prediction that, if a public monopoly were to exist
in every part of the industrial field, the _per capita_ income would
grow less, and that it would be only a question of time, and a short
time at that, when the laborers would be worse off than they are now.
Though, at the outset, they might absorb the entire incomes of the
well-to-do classes, the amount thus gained would shrink in their hands
until their position would be worse than their present one. They would
have pulled down the capitalists without more than a momentary benefit
for themselves and with a prospect of soon sinking to a lower level
than as a class they have thus far reached.
The impulse to revolutionize the system comes from the belief that it
is irreclaimably bad. The first thing to be done is to see how much
reclaiming the system is capable of; and the only sure way to test this
question is to use all our power in the effort to improve it. When all
such efforts shall have failed, it will be time for desperate measures.
Our industrial system has many faults:--here we are happily agreed. It
is the inferences we draw from this fact that are different. The one
that I draw is like one which is recorded in a famous case in
antiquity. When the Macedonian armies seemed about to overwhelm Greece,
Demosthenes encouraged the Athenians by this very sound bit of
philosophy: "The worst fact in our past affords the brightest hope for
our future. It is the fact that our misfortunes have come because of
our own faults. If they | 2,053.886525 |
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Transcriber’s Notes
Text between _underscores_ and =equal signs= represents text printed
in italics and bold face, respectively. Small capitals have been
changed to ALL CAPITALS.
More transcriber’s notes may be found at the end of this text.
REPORTS
RELATING TO
THE SANITARY CONDITION
OF THE
CITY OF LONDON.
BY
JOHN SIMON, F.R.S.
SURGEON TO ST. THOMAS’S HOSPITAL, AND
OFFICER OF HEALTH TO THE CITY.
LONDON:
JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND.
MDCCCLIV.
LONDON:
SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
TO
LOUIS MICHAEL SIMON,
OF THE STOCK EXCHANGE, LONDON, AND OF
THE PARAGON, BLACKHEATH,
I DEDICATE THIS REPRINT OF MY REPORTS:
LOOKING
LESS TO WHAT LITTLE INTRINSIC MERIT THEY MAY HAVE,
THAN TO THE YEARS OF ANXIOUS LABOUR THEY REPRESENT:
DEEMING IT FIT TO ASSOCIATE
MY FATHER’S NAME
WITH A RECORD OF ENDEAVOURS TO DO MY DUTY:
BECAUSE IN THIS HE HAS BEEN MY BEST EXAMPLE;
AND
BECAUSE I COUNT IT THE HAPPIEST INFLUENCE IN MY LOT,
THAT, BOUND TO HIM BY EVERY TIE OF GRATEFUL AFFECTION,
I HAVE LIKEWISE BEEN ABLE, FROM MY EARLIEST CHILDHOOD
TILL NOW--THE EVENING OF HIS LIFE,
TO REGARD HIM WITH UNQUALIFIED AND INCREASING RESPECT.
CONTENTS.
Page
DEDICATION iii
PREFACE vii
FIRST ANNUAL REPORT 1
FURTHER REMARKS ON WATER-SUPPLY 72
SECOND ANNUAL REPORT 77
THIRD ANNUAL REPORT 177
FOURTH ANNUAL REPORT 211
FIFTH ANNUAL REPORT 213
APPENDIX OF TABLES ILLUSTRATING THE SANITARY CONDITION OF
THE CITY OF LONDON. 264
REPORT ON CITY BURIAL-GROUNDS 280
REPORT ON EXTRAMURAL INTERMENTS 285
PREFACE.
The following Reports, officially addressed to the Commissioners of
Sewers of the City of London, were originally printed only for the use
of the Corporation; and although, to my very great pleasure, they have
been extensively circulated through the medium of the daily press, there
has continued so frequent an application for separate copies that the
surplus-stock at Guildhall has long been exhausted. Under these
circumstances--believing the Reports may have some future interest, as
belonging to an important educational period in the matters to which
they refer, I have requested the Commission to allow their collective
reprint and publication; and this indulgence having been kindly accorded
me, I have gathered into the present volume all my Annual Reports,
together with a special Report suggesting arrangements for extramural
burial.
From the nature of the work, I have not considered myself at liberty to
make those extensive alterations of text which usually belong to a
second edition. I have restricted myself to a few verbal corrections,
and to rectifying or omitting some unimportant paragraph, here or there,
in case its matter has been more fully or more correctly stated in parts
of a subsequent Report. Frequently, where I have wished to explain or
qualify passages in the text, I have added foot-notes; but these are
distinguished as interpolations by the mark--J. S., 1854.
My Reports lay no claim to the merit of scientific discovery. Rather,
they deal with things already notorious to Science; and, in writing
them, my hopes have tended chiefly towards winning for such doctrines
more general and more practical reception. It has seemed to me no
unworthy object, that, confining myself often to almost indisputable
topics--to truths bordering on truism, I should labour to make trite
knowledge bear fruit in common application.
Nor in any degree do they profess to be cyclopædic in the subject of
Preventive Medicine; for it is but a small part of this science that
hitherto is recognised by the law; and that--so far as the metropolis is
concerned, scarcely beyond the confines of the City. It would have been
an idle sort of industry, to say much of places or of matters foreign to
the jurisdiction of those whom I officially addressed.
In re-publishing documents which proclaim extreme sanitary evils, as
affecting the City, I think it right to draw attention to the dates of
the several Reports, and to state that for the last five years many of
these evils have been undergoing progressive diminution, of late at a
rapid and increasing rate; while, at their worst, they represented only
what I fear must be considered the present average condition of our
urban population.
This national prevalence of sanitary neglect is a very grievous fact;
and though I pretend to no official concern in anything beyond the City
boundaries, I cannot forego the present opportunity of saying a few
words to bespeak for it the reader’s attention. I would beg any educated
person to consider what are the conditions in which alone animal life
can thrive; to learn, by personal inspection, how far these conditions
are realised for the masses of our population; and to form for himself a
conscientious judgment as to the need for great, if even almost
revolutionary, reforms. Let any such person devote an hour to visiting
some very poor neighbourhood in the metropolis, or in almost any of our
large towns. Let him breathe its air, taste its water, eat its bread.
Let him think of human life struggling there for years. Let him fancy
what it would be to himself to live there, in that beastly degradation
of stink, fed with such bread, drinking such water. Let him enter some
house there at hazard, and--heeding where he treads, follow the guidance
of his outraged nose, to the yard (if there be one) or the cellar. Let
him talk to the inmates: let him hear what is thought of the bone-boiler
next door, or the slaughter-house behind; what of the sewer-grating
before the door; what of the Irish basket-makers upstairs--twelve in a
room, who came in after the hopping, and got fever; what of the
artisan’s dead body, stretched on his widow’s one bed, beside her living
children.
Let him, if he have a heart for the duties of manhood and patriotism,
gravely reflect whether such sickening evils, as an hour’s inquiry will
have shown him, ought to be the habit of our labouring population:
whether the Legislature, which his voice helps to constitute, is doing
all that might be done to palliate these wrongs; whether it be not a
jarring discord in the civilisation we boast--a worse than pagan
savageness in the Christianity we profess, that such things continue, in
the midst of us, scandalously neglected; and that the interests of human
life, except against wilful violence, are almost uncared for by the law.
And let not the inquirer too easily admit what will be urged by less
earnest persons as their pretext for inaction--that such evils are
inalienable from poverty. Let him, in visiting those homes of our
labouring population, inquire into the actual rent paid for
them--dog-holes as they are; and studying the financial experience of
Model Dormitories and Model Lodgings, let him reckon what that rent can
purchase. He will | 2,053.887389 |
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The Slaveholding Indians
(1) As Slaveholder and Secessionist
(2) As Participants in the Civil War
(3) Under Reconstruction
Vol. I
[Illustration: INDIAN TERRITORY, 1861 [_From General Land Office_]]
The American Indian as
Slaveholder and Secessionist
AN OMITTED CHAPTER IN
THE DIPLOMATIC HISTORY OF THE
SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY
BY ANNIE HELOISE ABEL, PH.D.
THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY
CLEVELAND: 1915
COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY
ANNIE HELOISE ABEL
TO MY FATHER AND MOTHER
CONTENTS
PREFACE 13
I GENERAL SITUATION IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY, 1830-1860 17
II INDIAN TERRITORY IN ITS RELATIONS WITH TEXAS AND ARKANSAS 63
III THE CONFEDERACY IN NEGOTIATION WITH THE INDIAN TRIBES 127
IV THE INDIAN NATIONS IN ALLIANCE WITH THE CONFEDERACY 207
APPENDIX A--FORT SMITH PAPERS 285
APPENDIX B--THE LEEPER OR WICHITA AGENCY PAPERS 329
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 359
INDEX 369
ILLUSTRATIONS
INDIAN TERRITORY, 1861 _Frontispiece_
MAP SHOWING FREE <DW64> SETTLEMENTS IN THE CREEK COUNTRY 25
PORTRAIT OF COLONEL DOWNING, CHEROKEE 65
PORTRAIT OF JOHN ROSS, PRINCIPAL CHIEF OF THE CHEROKEES 112
PORTRAIT OF COLONEL ADAIR, CHEROKEE 221
MAP SHOWING THE RETREAT OF THE LOYAL INDIANS 263
FORT MCCULLOCH 281
PREFACE
This volume is the first of a series of three dealing with the
slaveholding Indians as secessionists, as participants in the Civil War,
and as victims under reconstruction. The series deals with a phase of
American Civil War history which has heretofore been almost entirely
neglected or, where dealt with, either misunderstood or misinterpreted.
Perhaps the third and last volume will to many people be the most
interesting because it will show, in great detail, the enormous price that
the unfortunate Indian had to pay for having allowed himself to become a
secessionist and a soldier. Yet the suggestiveness of this first volume is
considerably larger than would appear at first glance. It has been
purposely given a sub-title, in order that the peculiar position of the
Indian, in 1861, may be brought out in strong relief. He was enough inside
the American Union to have something to say about secession and enough
outside of it to be approached diplomatically. It is well to note, indeed,
that Albert Pike negotiated the several Indian treaties that bound the
Indian nations in an alliance with the seceded states, under the authority
of the Confederate State Department, which was a decided advance upon
United States practice--an innovation, in fact, that marked the tremendous
importance that the Confederate government attached to the Indian
friendship. It was something that stood out in marked contrast to the
indifference manifested at the moment by the authorities at Washington;
for, while they were neglecting the Indian even to an extent that
amounted to actual dishonor, the Confederacy was offering him political
integrity and political equality and was establishing over his country,
not simply an empty wardship, but a bona fide protectorate.
Granting then that the negotiations of 1861 with the Indian nations
constitute a phase of southern diplomatic history, it may be well to
consider to what Indian participation in the Civil War amounted. It was a
circumstance that was interesting rather than significant; and the
majority will have to admit that it was a circumstance that could not
possibly have materially affected the ultimate situation. It was the
Indian country, rather than the Indian owner, that the Confederacy wanted
to be sure of possessing; for Indian Territory occupied a position of
strategic importance, from both the economic and the military point of
view. The possession of it was absolutely necessary for the political and
the institutional consolidation of the South. Texas might well think of
going her own way and of forming an independent republic once again, when
between her and Arkansas lay the immense reservations of the great tribes.
They were slaveholding tribes, too, yet were supposed by the United States
government to have no interest whatsoever in a sectional conflict that
involved the very existence of the "peculiar institution." Thus the
federal government left them to themselves at the critical moment and left
them, moreover, at the mercy of the South, and then was indignant that
they betrayed a sectional affiliation.
The author deems it of no slight advantage, in undertaking a work of this
sort, that she is of British birth and antecedents and that her
educational training, so largely American as it is, has been gained
without respect to a particular locality. She belongs to no section of
the Union, has lived, for longer or shorter periods in all sections, and
has developed no local bias. It is her sincere wish that no charge of
prejudice can, in ever so small a degree, be substantiated by the
evidence, presented here or elsewhere.
ANNIE HELOISE ABEL.
Baltimore, September, 1914
I. THE GENERAL SITUATION IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY, 1830-1860
Veterans of the Confederate service who saw action along the
Missouri-Arkansas frontier have frequently complained, in recent years,
that military operations in and around Virginia during the War between the
States receive historically so much attention that, as a consequence, the
steady, stubborn fighting west of the Mississippi River is either totally
ignored or, at best, cast into dim obscurity. There is much of truth in
the criticism but it applies in fullest measure only when the Indians are
taken into account; for no accredited history of the American Civil War
that has yet appeared has adequately recognized certain rather interesting
facts connected with that period of frontier development; viz., that
Indians fought on both sides in the great sectional struggle, that they
were moved to fight, not by instincts of savagery, but by identically the
same motives and impulses as the white men, and that, in the final
outcome, they suffered even more terribly than did the whites. Moreover,
the Indians fought as solicited allies, some as nations, diplomatically
approached. Treaties were made with them as with foreign powers and not in
the farcical, fraudulent way that had been customary in times past. They
promised alliance and were given in return political position--a fair
exchange. The southern white man, embarrassed, conceded much, far more
than he really believed in, more than he ever could or would have
conceded, had he not himself been so fearfully hard pressed. His own
predicament, the exigencies of the moment, made him give to the Indian a
justice, the like of which neither one of them had dared even to dream. It
was quite otherwise with the northern white man, however; for he,
self-confident and self-reliant, negotiated with the Indian in the
traditional way, took base advantage of the straits in which he found him,
asked him to help him fight his battles, and, in the selfsame moment,
plotted to dispossess him of his lands, the very lands that had, less than
five and twenty years before, been pledged as an Indian possession "as
long as the grass should grow and the waters run."
From what has just been said, it can be easily inferred that two distinct
groups of Indians will have to be dealt with, a northern and a southern;
but, for the present, it will be best to take them all together.
Collectively, they occupied a vast extent of country in the so-called
great American desert. Their situation was peculiar. Their participation
in the war, in some capacity, was absolutely inevitable; but, preparatory
to any right understanding of the reasons, geographical, institutional,
political, financial, and military, that made it so, a rapid survey of
conditions ante-dating the war must be considered.
It will be remembered that for some time prior to 1860 the policy[1] of
the United States government had been to relieve the eastern states of
their Indian inhabitants and that this it had done, since the first years
of Andrew Jackson's presidency, by a more or less compulsory removal to
the country lying immediately west of Arkansas and Missouri. As a result,
the situation there created was as follows: In the territory comprehended
in the present state of Kansas, alongside of indigenous tribes, like the
Kansa and the Osage,[2] had been placed various tribes or portions of
tribes from the old Northwest[3]--the Shawnees and Munsees from Ohio,[4]
the Delawares, Kickapoos, Potawatomies, and Miamies from Indiana, the
Ottawas and Chippewas from Michigan, the Wyandots from Ohio and Michigan,
the Weas, Peorias, Kaskaskias, and Piankashaws from Illinois, and a few
New York Indians from Wisconsin. To the southward of all of those northern
tribal immigrants and chiefly beyond the later Kansas boundary, or in the
present state of Oklahoma, had been similarly placed the great[5] tribes
from the South[6]--the Creeks from Georgia and Alabama, the Cherokees
from Tennessee and Georgia, the Seminoles from Florida, and the Choctaws
and Chickasaws from Alabama and Mississippi.[7] The population of the
whole country thus colonized and, in a sense, reduced to the reservation
system, amounted approximately to seventy-four thousand souls, less than
seven thousand of whom were north of the Missouri-Compromise line. The
others were all south of it and, therefore, within a possible slave belt.
This circumstance is not without significance; for it is the colonized, or
reservation, Indians[8] exclusively that are to figure in these pages and,
since this story is a chapter in the struggle between the North and the
South, the proportion of southerners to northerners among the Indian
immigrants must, in the very nature of things, have weight. The relative
location of northern and southern tribes seems to have been determined
with a very careful regard to the restrictions of the Missouri Compromise
and the interdicted line of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes was
pretty nearly the boundary between them.[9] That it was so by accident may
or may not be subject for conjecture. Fortunately for the disinterested
motives of politicians but most unfortunately for the defenceless Indians,
the Cherokee land obtruded itself just a little above the thirty-seventh
parallel and formed a "Cherokee Strip" eagerly coveted by Kansans in later
days. One objection, be it remembered, that had been offered to the
original plan of removal was that, unless the slaveholding southern
Indians were moved directly westward along parallel lines of latitude,
northern rights under the Missouri Compromise would be encroached upon.
Yet slavery was not conscientiously excluded from Kansas in the days
antecedent to its organization as a territory. Within the Indian country,
and it was all Indian country then, slavery was allowed, at least on
sufferance, both north and south of the interdicted line. It was even
encouraged by many white men who made their homes or their living there,
by interlopers, licensed traders, and missionaries;[10] but it flourished
as a legitimate institution only among the great tribes planted south of
the line. With them it had been a familiar institution long before the
time of their exile. In their native haunts they had had <DW64> slaves as
had had the whites and removal had made no difference to them in that
particular. Since the beginning of the century refuge to fugitives and
confusion of ownership had been occasions for frequent quarrel between
them and the citizens of the | 2,053.888695 |
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THE
SOUTH-WEST.
BY A YANKEE.
Where on my way I went;
------------A pilgrim from the North--
Now more and more attracted, as I drew
Nearer and nearer.
ROGERS' ITALY.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, CLIFF-ST.
1835.
[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835,
by HARPER & BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern
District of New-York.]
TO THE
HON. JOHN A. QUITMAN,
EX-CHANCELLOR OF MISSISSIPPI,
THESE VOLUMES
ARE
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
The succeeding pages grew out of a private correspondence, which the
author, at the solicitation of his friends, has been led to throw into
the present form, modifying in a great measure the epistolary vein, and
excluding, so far as possible, such portions of the original papers as
were of too personal a nature to be intruded upon the majesty of the
public;--while he has embodied, so far as was compatible with the new
arrangement, every thing likely to interest the general reader.
The author has not written exclusively as a traveller or journalist. His
aim has been to present the result of his experience and observations
during a residence of several years in the South-West. This extensive
and important section of the United States is but little known. Perhaps
there is no region between the Mississippi river and the Atlantic
shores, of which so little accurate information is before the public; a
flying tourist only, having occasionally added a note to his diary, as
he skirted its forest-lined borders.
New-York, Sept. 1835.
CONTENTS.
I.
A state of bliss-- | 2,053.981099 |
2023-11-16 18:51:17.9642290 | 987 | 9 |
Produced by Matthew H. Heller
CHIP, OF THE FLYING U
By B. M. Bower (B. M. Sinclair)
AUTHOR OF "The Lure of the Dim Trails," "Her Prairie Knight," "The
Lonesome Trail," etc.
Illustrations by CHARLES M. RUSSELL
LIST OF CONTENTS
I The Old Man's Sister
II Over the "Hog's Back"
III Silver
IV An Ideal Picture
V In Silver's Stall
VI The Hum of Preparation
VII Love and a Stomach Pump
VIII Prescriptions
IX Before the Round-up
X What Whizzer Did
XI Good Intentions
XII "The Last Stand"
XIII Art Critics
XIV Convalescence
XV The Spoils of Victory
XVI Weary Advises
XVII When a Maiden Wills
XVIII Dr Cecil Granthum
XIX Love Finds Its Hour
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Came down with not a joint in his legs and turned a somersault
"The Last Stand."
Throwing herself from the saddle she slid precipitately into the
washout, just as Denver thundered up
CHAPTER I. -- The Old Man's Sister.
The weekly mail had just arrived at the Flying U ranch. Shorty, who had
made the trip to Dry Lake on horseback that afternoon, tossed the bundle
to the "Old Man" and was halfway to the stable when he was called back
peremptorily.
"Shorty! O-h-h, Shorty! Hi!"
Shorty kicked his steaming horse in the ribs and swung round in the
path, bringing up before the porch with a jerk.
"Where's this letter been?" demanded the Old Man, with some excitement.
James G. Whitmore, cattleman, would have been greatly surprised had
he known that his cowboys were in the habit of calling him the Old Man
behind his back. James G. Whitmore did not consider himself old, though
he was constrained to admit, after several hours in the saddle, that
rheumatism had searched him out--because of his fourteen years of
roughing it, he said. Also, there was a place on the crown of his head
where the hair was thin, and growing thinner every day of his life,
though he did not realize it. The thin spot showed now as he stood in
the path, waving a square envelope aloft before Shorty, who regarded it
with supreme indifference.
Not so Shorty's horse. He rolled his eyes till the whites showed,
snorted and backed away from the fluttering, white object.
"Doggone it, where's this been?" reiterated James G., accusingly.
"How the devil do I know?" retorted Shorty, forcing his horse nearer.
"In the office, most likely. I got it with the rest to-day."
"It's two weeks old," stormed the Old Man. "I never knew it to fail--if
a letter says anybody's coming, or you're to hurry up and go somewhere
to meet somebody, that letter's the one that monkeys around and comes
when the last dog's hung. A letter asking yuh if yuh don't want to get
rich in ten days sellin' books, or something, 'll hike along out here in
no time. Doggone it!"
"You got a hurry-up order to go somewhere?" queried Shorty, mildly
sympathetic.
"Worse than that," groaned James G. "My sister's coming out to spend the
summer--t'-morrow. And no cook but Patsy--and she can't eat in the mess
house--and the house like a junk shop!"
"It looks like you was up against it, all right," grinned Shorty. Shorty
was a sort of foreman, and was allowed much freedom of speech.
"Somebody's got to meet her--you have Chip catch up the creams so he can
go. And send some of the boys up here to help me hoe out a little. Dell
ain't used to roughing it; she's just out of a medical school--got her
diploma, she was telling me in the last letter before this. She'll be
finding microbes by the million in this old shack. You tell Patsy I'll
be late to supper--and tell him to brace up and cook something ladies
like--cake and stuff. Patsy'll know. I'd give a dollar to get that
little runt in the | 2,053.984269 |
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Produced by Peter Vickers, the Bookworm <bookworm.librivox
AT gmail.com> and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from scanned
images of public domain material from the Google Print
project.)
Transcriber's Note:
Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without
note. Some illustrations have been slightly relocated for better flow.
In some of the Chinese or Mongolian names, the character 'u' with a
breve appears frequently. This appears in the text as [)u].
[Illustration]
JAMES GILMOUR OF MONGOLIA
HIS DIARIES LETTERS AND REPORTS
EDITED AND ARRANGED BY
RICHARD LOVETT, M.A.
AUTHOR OF 'NORWEGIAN PICTURES' ETC
WITH A PORTRAIT, TWO MAPS AND
FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS
THIRD AND CHEAPER EDITION
LONDON
THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
56 Paternoster Row, 65 St Paul's Churchyard
1895
O Christ, in Thee my soul hath found,
And found in Thee alone,
The peace, the joy I sought so long,
The bliss till now unknown.
I sighed for rest and happiness,
I yearned for them, not Thee;
But while I passed my Saviour by,
His love laid hold on me.
Now none but Christ can satisfy,
None other name for me;
There's love, and life, and lasting joy,
Lord Jesus, found in Thee.
PREFACE
This book in its more expensive forms has been before the public for
nearly two years. It has been very widely read, and it has received
extraordinary attention from many sections of the press. The author has
received from all parts of the world most striking testimonies as to the
way in which this record of James Gilmour's heroic self-sacrifice for
the Lord Jesus and on behalf of his beloved Mongols for the Master's
sake has touched the hearts of Christian workers. It has deepened their
faith, strengthened their zeal, nerved them for whole-hearted
consecration to the same Master, and cheered many a solitary and lonely
heart.
Many requests have been received for an edition at a price which will
place the book within the reach of Sunday School teachers, of those
Christian workers who have but little to spend upon books, and of the
elder scholars in our schools. The Committee of the Religious Tract
Society have gladly met this request at the earliest possible moment.
In this new form their hope and prayer is that James Gilmour, being
dead, may yet speak to many hearts, arousing them to diligent, and
faithful, and self-denying service for Jesus Christ.
The book, in this its newest form, is identical in all respects with the
first and second editions, except that only one portrait is given and
the appendices are left out.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION 15
II. BEGINNING WORK 46
III. MONGOLIAN APPRENTICESHIP 55
IV. THE FIRST CAMPAIGN IN MONGOLIA 88
V. MARRIAGE 98
VI. 'IN JOURNEYINGS OFTEN, IN PERILS OF RIVERS' 105
VII. THE VISIT TO ENGLAND IN 1882 134
VIII. SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 154
IX. A CHANGE OF FIELD 176
X. PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS AS ILLUSTRATED BY
LETTERS TO RELATIVES AND FRIENDS 228
XI. CLOSING LABOURS 256
XII. THE LAST DAYS 298
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF JAMES GILMOUR FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN
AT TIENTSIN ON APRIL 1891 _Frontispiece_
A MONGOL ENCAMPMENT 109
A MONGOL CAMEL CART 139
A CHINESE MULE LITTER 156
JAMES GILMOUR EQUIPPED FOR HIS WALKING EXPEDITION
IN MONGOLIA IN FEBRUARY 1884 159
JAMES GILMOUR'S TENT 245
MAPS
1. MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S JOURNEYS ON THE
GREAT PLAIN OF MONGOLIA 54
2. MAP ILLUSTRATING JAMES GILMOUR'S LABOURS IN EASTERN
MONGOLIA 179
For readers of _James Gilmour of Mongolia_ not familiar with _Among
the Mongols_, a new Edition of that Work has been prepared and
published, price Two Shillings and Sixpence.
JAMES GILMOUR OF MONGOLIA
CHAPTER I
EARLY YEARS AND EDUCATION
James Gilmour, of Mongolia, the son of James Gilmour and Elizabeth
Pettigrew his wife, was born at Cathkin on Monday, June 12, 1843. He was
the third in a family of six sons, all but one of whom grew up to
manhood. His father was in very comfortable circumstances, and
consequently James Gilmour never had the struggle with poverty through
which so many of his great countrymen have had to pass. Cathkin, an
estate of half a dozen farms in the parish of Carmunnock, is only five
miles from Glasgow, and was owned by Humphrey Ewing Maclae, a retired
India merchant, who resided in the substantial mansion-house on the
estate. There were also the houses of a few residents, and a smithy and
wright's workshops, for the convenience of the surrounding district.
James Gilmour's father was the occupant of the wright's shop, as his
father had been before him.
His brother John, one of three who have survived him, has furnished the
following interesting sketch of the family life in which James Gilmour
was trained, and to which he owed so much of the charm and power which
he manifested in later years:--
'Our grandfather, Matthew Gilmour, combined the trades of mason and
wright, working himself at both as occasion required; and our father,
James Gilmour, continued the combination in his time in a modified
degree, gradually discarding the mason trade and developing the
wright's. Grandmother (father's mother) was a woman of authority, skill,
and practical usefulness among the little community in which she
resided. In cases requiring medical treatment, she was always in
request; and in order to obtain the lymph pure for the vaccination of
children she would take it herself direct from the cow. She was also a
neat and skilful needlewoman.
'Matthew Gilmour and his wife were people of strict integrity and
Christian living. They walked regularly every Sunday the five miles to
the Congregational Church in Glasgow, though there were several places
of worship within two miles of their residence. I have often heard the
old residents of the steep and rough country road they used to take for
a short cut when nearing home tell how impressed they have been by the
sight of the worthy couple and their family wending their way along in
the dark winter Sabbath evenings by the light of a hand-lantern. Our
parents continued the connection with the same body of worshippers in
Glasgow as long as they resided in Cathkin, being members of Dr. Ralph
Wardlaw's church. It was under his earnest eloquence, and by his wise
pastoral care, we were trained.
'The distance of our home from the place of worship did not admit of our
attending as children any other than the regular Sabbath services; but
we were not neglected in this respect at home, so far as it lay in our
parents' ability to help us. We regularly gathered around our mother's
knee, reading the impressive little stories found in such illustrated
booklets as the _Teacher's Offering_, the _Child's Companion_, the
_Children's Missionary Record_ (Church of Scotland), the _Tract
Magazine_, and Watts' _Divine Songs for Children_. These readings were
always accompanied with touching serious comments on them by mother,
which tended very considerably to impress the lessons contained in them
on our young hearts. I remember how she used to add: "Wouldn't it be
fine if some of you, when you grow up, should be able to write such nice
little stories as these for children, and do some good in the world in
that way!" I have always had an idea that James' love of contributing
short articles from China and Mongolia to the children's missionary
magazines at home was due to these early impressions instilled into his
mind by his mother. Father, too, on Sabbath evenings, generally placed
the "big" Bible (Scott and Henry's) on the table, and read aloud the
comments therein upon some portion of Scripture for our edification and
entertainment. During the winter week-nights some part of the evening
was often spent in reading aloud popular books then current, such as
_Uncle Tom's Cabin_.
'Family worship, morning and evening, was also a most regular and sacred
observance in our house, and consisted of first, asking a blessing;
second, singing twelve lines of a psalm or paraphrase, or a hymn from
Wardlaw's Hymn-book; third, reading a chapter from the Old Testament in
the mornings, and from the New in the evenings; and fourth, prayer. The
chapters read were taken day by day in succession, and at the evening
worship we read two verses each all round. This proved rather a trying
ordeal for some of the apprentices, one or more of whom we usually had
boarding with us, or to a new servant-girl, as their education in many
cases had not been of too liberal a description. But they soon got more
proficient, and if it led them to nothing higher, it was a good
educational help. These devotional exercises were not common in the
district in the mornings, and were apt to be broken in upon by callers
at the wright's shop; but that was never entertained as an excuse for
curtailing them. I suppose people in the district got to know of the
custom, and avoided making their calls at a time when they would have to
wait some little while for attention. Our parents, however, never
allowed this practice or their religious inclinations to obtrude on
their neighbours; all was done most unassumingly and humbly, as a matter
of everyday course.
'Our maternal grandfather, John Pettigrew by name, was a farmer and
meal-miller on the estate of Cathkin, and was considered a man of
sterling worth and integrity. Having had occasion to send his minister,
the parson of Carmunnock parish, some bags of oatmeal from his mill, the
minister suspected from some cause or other that he had got short weight
or measure. The worthy miller was rather nettled at being thus impeached
by | 2,054.68765 |
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Produced by David Edwards, Louise Setzer, Mary Meehan and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
BAT WING BOWLES
BY DANE COOLIDGE
AUTHOR OF "HIDDEN WATER" AND "THE TEXICAN"
Illustrated by D. C. Hutchison
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY
STREET & SMITH, NEW YORK
_All rights reserved, including that of translation
into foreign languages_
_March, 1914_
[Illustration: "'WHY, HELLO THERE, COWBOY!' SHE CHALLENGED BLUNTLY"]
CONTENTS
I MR. BOWLES
II THE FAR WEST
III THE BAT WING RANCH
IV BRIGHAM
V WA-HA-LOTE
VI THE ROUND-UP
VII THE QUEEN AT HOME
VIII A COWBOY'S LIFE
IX REDUCED TO THE RANKS
X THE FIRST SMILE
XI CONEY ISLAND
XII PROMOTED
XIII A LETTER FROM THE POSTMISTRESS
XIV THE ENGLISH LORD
XV BURYING THE HATCHET
XVI THE STRAW-BOSS
XVII AND HIS SQUIRREL STORY
XVIII THE ROUGH-RIDERS
XIX A COMMON BRAWL
XX THE DEATH OF HAPPY JACK
XXI A CALL
XXII THE HORSE THAT KILLED DUNBAR
XXIII THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY
ILLUSTRATIONS
"'Why, hello there, cowboy!' she challenged bluntly"
"Only Bowles, the man from the East, rose and took off his hat"
"'You want to be careful how you treat these Arizona girls!'"
"The man-killer charged at him through the dust"
BAT WING BOWLES
CHAPTER I
MR. BOWLES
It was a fine windy morning in March and Dixie Lee, of Chula Vista,
Arizona, was leaving staid New York at the gate marked "Western
Limited." A slight difference with the gatekeeper, who seemed to doubt
every word she said, cast no cloud upon her spirits, and she was
cheerfully searching for her ticket when a gentleman came up from
behind. At sight of the trim figure at the wicket, he too became
suddenly happy, and it looked as if the effete East was losing two of
its merriest citizens.
"Oh, good-morning, Miss Lee!" he said, bowing and smiling radiantly as
she glanced in his direction. "Are you going out on this train?"
"Why--yes," she replied, gazing into her handbag with a preoccupied
frown. "That is, if I can find my ticket!"
She found it on the instant, but the frown did not depart. She had
forgotten the young man's name. It was queer how those New York names
slipped her memory--but she remembered his face distinctly. She had met
him at some highbrow affair--it was a reception or some such social
maelstrom--and, yes, his name was Bowles!
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Bowles," she exclaimed as he gallantly took her bag;
but a furtive glance at his face left her suddenly transfixed with
doubts. Not that his expression changed--far from that--but a fleeting
twinkle in his eyes suggested some hidden joke.
"Oh, isn't your name Bowles?" she stammered. "I met you at the
Wordsworth Club, you know, and----"
"Oh, yes--quite right!" he assured her politely. "You have a wonderful
memory for names, Miss Lee. Shall we go on down to your car?"
Dixie Lee regarded the young man questioningly and with a certain
Western disfavor. He was one of those trim and proper creatures that
seemed to haunt Wordsworth societies, welfare meetings, and other
culture areas known only to the cognoscente and stern-eyed Eastern
aunts. In fact, he seemed to personify all those qualities of breeding
and education which a long winter of compulsory "finishing" had taught
her to despise; and yet--well, if it were not for his clothes and
manners and the way he dropped his "r's" he might almost pass for human.
But she knew his name wasn't Bowles.
There had been a person there by the name of Bowles, but the hostess had
mumbled when she presented this one--and they had talked quite a little,
too. She glanced at him again and a question trembled on her lips; but
names were nothing out where she came from, and she let it go for
Bowles.
The hypothetical Mr. Bowles was a tall and slender young man, of a type
that ordinarily maddened her beyond all reason and prompted her to say
cruel things which she was never sorry for afterward. He had a clear
complexion, a Cupid's bow mouth, and eyes as innocent as a girl's. They
were of a deep violet hue, very soft and soulful, and had a truly
cultured way of changing--when he talked--to mirror a thousand shades of
interest, courtesy and concern; but the way they had flickered when he
took over the name of Bowles suggested a real man behind the veil. His
manners, of course, were irreproachable; and not even a haberdasher
could take exception to his clothes. He was, in fact, attired strictly
according to the mode, in a close-fitting suit of striped gray, with
four-inch cuffs above his box-toed shoes, narrow shoulders, and a
low-crowned derby hat, now all the rage but affected for many years only
by Dutch comedians.
When he removed this hat, which he did whenever he stood in her
presence, he revealed a very fine head of hair which had been brushed
straight back from his forehead until each strand knew its separate
place; and yet, far from being pleased at this final evidence of
conscientious endeavor, Dixie May received him almost with a sniff.
"And are you really on your way to Arizona, Miss Lee?" he inquired,
carefully leaving the "r" out of "are" and putting the English on
"really." "Why, how fortunate! I am going West myself! Perhaps we can
renew our acquaintance on the way. Those were jolly stories you were
telling me at the Wordsworth Club--very improperly, to be sure, but all
the more interesting on that account. About the round-up cook, you know,
and the man who couldn't say 'No.' Nothing like that in California, I
suppose. I'm off for Los Angeles, myself."
"All right," answered Dixie Lee, waving California airily aside;
"Arizona is good enough for me! Say, I'm going to ask this man where my
section is."
She fished out her Pullman ticket and showed it to a waiting porter, who
motioned her down the train.
"The fourth car, lady," he said. "Car Number Four!"
"Car Four!" cried Bowles, setting down the suitcase with quite a
dramatic start. "Why--why, isn't this remarkable, Miss Lee? To think
that we should take the same train--on the same day--and then have the
very same car! But, don't you know, you never finished that last story
you were telling me--about the cowboy who went to the picnic--and now I
shall demand the end of it. Really, Miss Lee, I enjoyed your tales
immensely--but don't let me keep you waiting!"
He hurried on, still commenting upon the remarkable coincidence; and as
a memory of the reception came back to her and she recalled the avid way
in which this same young man had hung upon her words, a sudden doubt, a
shrewd questioning, came over the mind of Dixie Lee. Back in Arizona,
now, a man with any git-up-and-git to him might--but, pshaw, this was
not Arizona! And he was not that kind of man! No, indeed! The idea of
one of these New York Willies doing the sleuth act and tagging her to
the train!
At the same time Dixie Lee had her misgivings about this correct young
man, because she _knew_ his name was not Bowles. More than that, his
language displeased her, reminding her as it did of her long winter's
penance among the culturines. Three days more of highbrow conversation
would just about finish her off--she must be stern, very stern, if she
would avert the impending disaster! So she stabbed her neatly-trimmed
little sombrero with a hatpin and waited for Mr. Bowles.
"Lovely weather we've been having, isn't it?" he purled as he made bold
to sit down beside her.
"Yes, indeed," she answered, showing her white teeth in a simpering
smile. "Simply heavenly. Don't you know, it reminds me of those lines in
Wordsworth--you remember--I think it was in his 'Idiot Boy.' Oh, how do
they go?"
She knitted her brows and Mr. Bowles regarded her thoughtfully.
"Perhaps it was in his 'Lines Written in Early Spring,'" he suggested
guardedly | 2,054.688707 |
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Produced by Janet Kegg and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
The PALACE of DARKENED WINDOWS
By
MARY HASTINGS BRADLEY
AUTHOR OF "THE FAVOR OF KINGS"
ILLUSTRATED BY EDMUND FREDERICK
NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1914
[Frontispiece illustration: "'It is no use,' he repeated.
'There is no way out for you.'" (Chapter IV)]
TO
MY HUSBAND
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE EAVESDROPPER
II. THE CAPTAIN CALLS
III. AT THE PALACE
IV. A SORRY QUEST
V. WITHIN THE WALLS
VI. A GIRL IN THE BAZAARS
VII. BILLY HAS HIS DOUBTS
VIII. THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR
IX. A DESPERATE GAME
X. A MAID AND A MESSAGE
XI. OVER THE GARDEN WALL
XII. THE GIRL FROM THE HAREM
XIII. TAKING CHANCES
XIV. IN THE ROSE ROOM
XV. ON THE TRAIL
XVI. THE HIDDEN GIRL
XVII. AT BAY
XVIII. DESERT MAGIC
XIX. THE PURSUIT
XX. A FRIEND IN NEED
XXI. CROSS PURPOSES
XXII. UPON THE PYLON
XXIII. THE BETTER MAN
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"'It is no use,' he repeated. 'There is no way out for you'"
_Frontispiece_
"'I do not want to stay here'"
"He found himself staring down into the bright dark eyes of a girl
he had never seen"
"Billy went to the mouth, peering watchfully out"
THE PALACE OF DARKENED WINDOWS
CHAPTER I
THE EAVESDROPPER
A one-eyed man with a stuffed crocodile upon his head paused before
the steps of Cairo's gayest hotel and his expectant gaze ranged
hopefully over the thronged verandas. It was afternoon tea time; the
band was playing and the crowd was at its thickest and brightest.
The little tables were surrounded by travelers of all nations, some
in tourist tweeds and hats with the inevitable green veils; others,
those of more leisurely sojourns, in white serges and diaphanous
frocks and flighty hats fresh from the Rue de la Paix.
It was the tweed-clad groups that the crocodile vender scanned for a
purchaser of his wares and harshly and unintelligibly exhorted to
buy, but no answering gaze betokened the least desire to bring back
a crocodile to the loved ones at home. Only Billy B. Hill grinned
delightedly at him, as Billy grinned at every merry sight of the
spectacular East, and Billy shook his head with cheerful
convincingosity, so the crocodile merchant moved reluctantly on
before the importunities of the Oriental rug peddler at his heels.
Then he stopped. His turbaned head, topped by the grotesque,
glassy-eyed, glistening-toothed monster, revolved slowly as the
Arab's single eye steadily followed a couple who passed by him up
the hotel steps. Billy, struck by the man's intense interest, craned
forward and saw that one of the couple, now exchanging farewells at
the top of the steps, was a girl, a pretty girl, and an American,
and the other was an officer in a uniform of considerable green and
gold, and obviously a foreigner.
He might be any kind of a foreigner, according to Billy's lax
distinctions, that was olive of complexion and very black of hair
and eyes. Slender and of medium height, he carried himself with an
assurance that bordered upon effrontery, and as he bowed himself
down the steps he flashed upon his former companion a smile of
triumph that included and seemed to challenge the verandaful of
observers.
The girl turned and glanced casually about at the crowded groups
that were like little samples of all the nations of the earth, and
with no more than a faint awareness of the battery of eyes upon her
she passed toward the tables by the railing. She was a slim little
fairy of a girl, as fresh as a peach blossom, with a cloud of pale
gold hair fluttering round her pretty face, which lent her a most
alluring and deceptive appearance of ethereal mildness. She had a
soft, satiny, rose-leaf skin which was merely flushed by the heat of
the Egyptian day, and her eyes were big and very, very blue. There
were touches of that blue here and there upon her creamy linen suit,
and a knot of blue upon her parasol and a twist of blue about her
Panama hat, so that she could not be held unconscious of the
flagrantly bewitching effect. Altogether she was as upsettingly
pretty a young person as could be seen in a year's journey, and the
glances of the beholders brightened vividly at her approach.
There was one conspicuous exception. This exception was sitting
alone at the large table which backed Billy's tiny table into a
corner by the railing, and as the girl arrived at that large table
the exception arose and greeted her with an air of glacial chill.
"Oh! Am I so terribly late?" said the girl with great pleasantness,
and arched brows of surprise at the two other places at the table
before which used tea things were standing.
"My sister and Lady Claire had an appointment, so they were obliged
to have their tea and leave," stated the young man, with an air of
politely endeavoring to conceal his feelings, and failing
conspicuously in the endeavor. "They were most sorry."
"Oh, so am I!" declared the girl, in clear and contrite tones which
carried perfectly to Billy B. Hill's enchanted ears. "I never
dreamed they would have to hurry away."
"They did not hurry, as you call it," and the young man glanced at
his watch, "for nearly an hour. It was a disappointment to them."
"Pin-pate!" thought Billy, with intense disgust. "Is he kicking at a
two-some?"
"And have you had your tea, too?" inquired the girl, with an air of
tantalizing unconcern.
"I waited, naturally, for my guest."
"Oh, not _naturally_!" she laughed. "It must be very unnatural for
you to wait for anything. And you must be starving. So am I--do you
think there are enough cakes left for the two of us?"
Without directly replying, the young man gave the order to the
red-fezzed Arab in a red-girdled white robe who was removing the
soiled tea things, and he assisted the girl into a chair and sat
down facing her. Their profiles were given to the shameless Billy,
and he continued his rapt observations.
He had immediately recognized the girl as a vision he had seen
fluttering around the hotel with an incongruously dismal
couple of unyouthful ladies, and he had mentally affixed a
magnate's-only-daughter-globe-trotting-with-elderly-friends label to
her.
The young man he could not place so definitely. There were a good
many tall, aristocratic young Englishmen about, with slight stoops
and incipient moustaches. This particular Englishman had hair that
was pronouncedly sandy, and Billy suddenly recollected that in
lunching at the Savoy the other day he had noticed that young
Englishman in company with a sandy-haired lady, not so young, and a
decidedly pretty dark-haired girl--it was the girl, of course, who
had fixed the group in Billy's crowded impressions. He decided that
these ladies were the sister and Lady Claire--and Lady Claire, he
judiciously concluded, certainly had nothing on young America.
Young America was speaking. "Don't look so thunderous!" she
complained to her irate host. "How do you know I didn't plan to be
late so as to have you all to myself?"
This was too derisive for endurance. A dull red burned through the
tan on the young Englishman's cheeks and crept up to meet the
corresponding warmth of his hair. A leash within him snapped.
"It is simply inconceivable!" burst from him, and then he shut his
jaw hard, as if only one last remnant of will power kept a seething
volcano, from explosion.
"What is?"
"How any girl--in Cairo, of all places!" he continued to explode in
little snorts.
"You are speaking of--?" she suggested.
"Of your walking with that fellow--in broad daylight!"
"Would it have been better in the gloaming?"
The sweet restraint in the young thing's manner was supernatural. It
was uncanny. It should have warned the red-headed young man, but
oblivious of danger signals, he was plunging on, full steam ahead.
"It isn't as if you didn't know--hadn't been warned."
"You have been so kind," the girl murmured, and poured a cup of tea
the Arab had placed at her elbow.
The young man ignored his. The color burned hotter and hotter in his
face. Even his hair looked redder.
"The look he gave up here was simply outrageous--a grin of insolent
triumph. I'd like to have laid my cane across him!"
The girl's cup clicked against the saucer. "You are horrid!" she
declared. "When we were on shipboard Captain Kerissen was very
popular among the passengers and I talked with him whenever I cared
to. Everyone did. Now that I am in his native city I see no reason
to stalk past him when we happen to be going in the same direction.
He is a gentleman of rank, a relative of the Khedive who is ruling
this country--under your English advice--and he is----"
"A Turk!" gritted out the young man.
"A Turk and proud of it! His mother was French, however, and he was
educated at Oxford and he is as cosmopolitan as any man I ever met.
It's unusual to meet anyone so close to the reigning family, and it
gives one a wonderful insight into things off the beaten track----"
"The beaten--damn!" said the young man, and Billy's heart went out
to him. "Oh, I beg pardon, but you--he--I--" So many things occurred
to him to say at one and the same time that he emitted a snort of
warring and incoherent syllables. Finally, with supreme control, "Do
you know that your 'gentleman of rank' couldn't set foot in a
gentleman's club in this country?"
"I think it's _mean_!" retorted the girl, her blue eyes very bright
and indignant. "You English come here and look down on even the
highest members of the country you are pretending to assist. Why do
you? When he was at Oxford he went into your English homes."
"English madhouses--for admitting him."
A brief silence ensued.
The girl ate a cake. It was a nice cake, powdered with almonds, but
she ate it obliviously. The angry red shone rosily in her cheeks.
The young man took a hasty drink of his tea, which had grown cold
in its cup, and pushed it away. Obstinately he rushed on in his mad
career.
"I simply cannot understand you!" he declared.
"Does it matter?" said she, and bit an almond's head off.
"It would be bad enough, in any city, but in Cairo--! To permit him
to insult you with his company, alone, upon the streets!"
"When you have said insult you have said a little too much," she
returned in a small, cold voice of war. "Is there anything against
Captain Kerissen personally?"
"Who knows anything about any of those fellows? They are all
alike--with half a dozen wives locked up behind their barred
windows."
"He isn't married."
"How do you know?"
"I--inferred it."
The Englishman snorted: "According to his custom, you know, it isn't
the proper thing to mention his ladies in public."
"You are frightfully unjust. Captain Kerissen's customs are the
customs of the civilized world, and he is very anxious | 2,054.688786 |
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[Illustration]
THE
BOOK OF STORIES
FOR THE STORY-TELLER
by
FANNY E. COE
GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD.
LONDON CALCUTTA SYDNEY
_First published March 1914_
_by_ GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY
_39-41 Parker Street, Kingsway, London, W. C._
* * * * *
_Preface_
There is no need here to enter a plea for story-telling. Its value in
the home and in the school is assured. Miss Bryant, in her charming
book, _How to Tell Stories to Children_, says, "Perhaps never, since
the really old days, has story-telling so nearly reached a recognized
level of dignity as a legitimate and general art of entertainment as
now." And, in the guise of entertainment, the story is often the
vehicle conveying to the child the wholesome moral lesson or the bit
of desirable knowledge so necessary to his well-being at the time.
Thus it has come to be recognized that the ability to tell a story
well is an important part of the equipment of the parent or the
teacher of little children.
The parent is often at a loss for fresh material. Sometimes he "makes
up" a story, with but poor satisfaction to himself or his child. The
teacher's difficulty is quite otherwise. She knows of many good
stories, but these same stories are scattered through many books, and
the practical difficulty of finding time in her already overcrowded
days for frequent trips to the library is well-nigh insurmountable.
The quest is indefinitely postponed, with the result that the stories
are either crowded out altogether, or that the teacher repeats the few
tales she has at hand month after month, and year after year, until
all freshness and inspiration are gone from the story time.
The stories in the present collection are drawn from many nations and
from widely differing sources. Folk tales, modern fairy tales, and
myths have a generous showing; and there is added a new field as a
source for stories. This is Real Life, in which children soon begin to
take decided interest. Under this heading appear tales of child life,
of child heroes, of adult heroes, and of animals.
Mr Herbert L. Willett, of the University of Chicago, has said: "It is
not through formal instruction that a child receives his impulses
toward virtue, honour and courtesy. It is rather from such appeal to
the emotions as can be made most effectually through the telling of a
story. The inculcation of a duty leaves him passionless and unmoved.
The narrative of an experience in which that same virtue finds
concrete embodiment fires him with the desire to try the same conduct
for himself. Few children fail to make the immediate connection
between the hero or heroine of the story and themselves."
Because of this great principle of imitation, a large number of the
stories in this little volume have been chosen for their moral value.
They present the virtues of persistence, faithfulness, truthfulness,
honesty, generosity, loyalty to one's word, tender care of animals,
and love of friends and family. Some themes are emphasized more than
once. "Hans the Shepherd Boy," "The Story of Li'l' Hannibal," and
"Dust under the Rug," teach wholesome facts in regard to work. "The
Feast of Lanterns" and "The Pot of Gold" emphasize the truth that
East or west,
Hame's best.
Filial devotion shines from the stories of "Anders' New Cap," "How the
Sun, the Moon, and the Wind went out to Dinner," and "The Wolf-Mother
of Saint-Ailbe."
The form of each story is such that the parent or teacher can tell or
read the story, as it appears in the book, with only such slight
modification as his intimate knowledge of the individual child or
class would naturally prompt him to make.
The compiler wishes especially to express her appreciation for many
helpful suggestions as to material received from Mrs Mary W. Cronan,
teller of stories at various branches of the Boston Public Library.
* * * * *
_Contents_
FOLK TALES
PAGE
THE FOX AND THE WOLF 11
THE FOX AND THE CAT _R. Nesbit Bain_ 16
THE HOBYAHS _Carolyn Sherwin Bailey_ 19
HOW THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE WIND
WENT OUT TO DINNER _Fanny E. Coe_ 23
A LEGEND OF THE NORTH WIND _Mary Catherine Judd_ 26
HOW THE ROBIN'S BREAST BECAME RED _Flora J. Cooke_ 30
HOW THE ROBIN CAME 32
THE STORY OF THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER 35
THE LITTLE RABBITS _Joel Chandler Harris_ 38
"HEYO, HOUSE" _Joel Chandler Harris_ 44
TEENCHY DUCK
_From the French of Frederic Ortoli_
_Translated by Joel Chandler Harris_ 49
ST CHRISTOPHER 63
WONDERING JACK _James Baldwin_ 68
THE FEAST OF LANTERNS
_From W. T. Stead's "Books for the Bairns"_ 81
MODERN FAIRY TALES
PRINCE HARWEDA AND THE MAGIC PRISON _Elizabeth Harrison_ 93
THE HOP-ABOUT MAN _Agnes Grozier Herbertson_ 107
THE STREET MUSICIANS _Lida McMurry_ 118
THE STRAW OX _R. Nesbit Bain_ 124
THE NECKLACE OF TRUTH _Jean Mace_ 131
ANDERS' NEW CAP _Anna Wohlenberg_ 136
DUST UNDER THE RUG _Maud Lindsay_ 142
A NIGHT WITH SANTA CLAUS _Annie R. Annan_ 149
THE STORY OF LI'L' HANNIBAL _Carolyn Sherwin Bailey_ 157
HOW WRY-FACE PLAYED A TRICK ON
ONE-EYE, THE POTATO-WIFE _Agnes Grozier Herbertson_ 164
THE POT OF GOLD _Horace E. Scudder_ 176
THE FROG-TSAREVNA _R. Nesbit Bain_ 188
OEYVIND AND MARIT _Bjoerne Bjoerneson_ 197
THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES 207
MYTHS
RHOECUS _Fanny E. Coe_ 214
KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS _Flora J. Cooke_ 217
THE STORY OF PEGASUS _Fanny E. Coe_ 219
THE WOLF-MOTHER OF SAINT AILBE _Abbie Farwell Brown_ 223
WHO WAS THE MIGHTIER? _Fanny E. Coe_ 231
STORIES FROM REAL LIFE
HANS THE SHEPHERD BOY _Ella Lyman Cabot_ 234
NATHAN AND THE BEAR _M. A. L. Lane_ 236
THE MAN ON THE CHIMNEY _Fanny E. Coe_ 241
POCAHONTAS _E. A. and M. F. Blaisdell_ 244
THE DAY KIT AND KAT WENT FISHING _Lucy Fitch Perkins_ 247
THE HONEST FARMER _Ella Lyman Cabot_ 257
DAMON AND PYTHIAS _Ella Lyman Cabot_ 259
LINCOLN'S UNVARYING KINDNESS _Fanny E. Coe_ 261
HOW MOLLY SPENT HER SIXPENCE _Eliza Orne White_ 265
HANS AND HIS DOG _Maud Lindsay_ 275
* * * * *
_The Fox and the Wolf_
_A Russian Fable_
Once upon a time there was a fox so shrewd that, although he was
neither so fleet of foot, nor so strong of limb, as many of his
kindred, he nevertheless managed to feed as comfortably as any of
them.
One winter's day, feeling rather hungry, he trotted out of his lair to
take a look round. The neighbouring farmers guarded their hen-roosts
so carefully from his depredations that a nice fat hen was out of the
question, and the weather was too cold to tempt the rabbits out of
their snug warren. Therefore Mr Fox set his wits to work and kept his
eyes open for what might come along.
After a while, as he slunk along the bottom of a dry ditch, he
descried in the distance an old man driving a cart. This was Truvor,
the fisherman, who, since two or three days of December sunshine had
melted the ice, had had a good catch of fish in the lake by the
mountain-side.
"Aha!" said the fox to himself, "I should relish a dinner of fine,
fresh trout. Truvor is far too selfish to share them with me, so I
will have them all."
To achieve the purpose in view, he laid himself flat in the road over
which the fisherman must pass and pretended to be dead. The fisherman
beheld him with surprise when he drew near, and jumping from his seat
poked his sleek sides with his whip. The fox did not move a muscle,
and Truvor decided that he had been frozen to death by the cold of the
preceding night.
"I will take him home to my wife," he remarked, as he flung the limp
body into his cart. "His coat will make a very nice rug for our
parlour, and she can use his brush to dust with."
The fox had much ado to refrain from laughing when he heard this and
found himself amongst the fish. They smelt delicious, but he did not
think it wise to eat them then, so he silently dropped them one by one
into the road, and when the cart was empty, sprang out himself.
Knowing nothing of what had been going on, the old man drove on until
he reached his cottage.
"Come and see what I have brought you!" he called to his wife. You can
imagine the good woman's disgust when she found the cart quite empty.
Not only was she without the rug, but they would have no dinner.
Meanwhile, the fox was thoroughly enjoying himself. The fish that he
could not eat he hid away under a heap of grasses that he might make
use of them some other time. While engaged in this occupation a wolf
came up.
"Won't you give me a taste, little brother?" he asked. "I have had no
food for the last two days, and know not where to seek it."
"You have nothing to do but to go to the lake and dip your tail over
the edge of the bank, or through a hole in the ice if the water has
frozen over again, as I expect it has done from the nip in the air. If
you say these words: 'Come, little fish and big fish. Come!' the
finest fish will take hold of the bait, and when you feel them hanging
on you will have only to whisk your tail out of the water."
The wolf was a dull and stupid fellow and, never doubting the fox,
hied him off to the lake. Sure enough the water had once more frozen
over, but, finding a hole, he thrust in his tail and rammed it
through, and sat down to wait till the fish should come. The fox was
delighted to find him still sitting there as he passed by, and looking
at the sky above him murmured: "Sky, sky, keep clear! Water, water,
freeze, freeze!"
"What are you saying?" inquired the wolf, without turning his head.
"Nothing at all," replied the fox. "I was only trying to help you."
Then he went his way, and the wolf sat on all through the night.
When morning came he was cramped with cold, and tried to draw out his
tail. Finding this impossible, since the water had frozen fast around
it, he congratulated himself on having caught so many fish that their
weight prevented him from lifting his tail. He was still pondering how
to transfer them to the surface when some women came to fill their
water jars.
"A wolf! a wolf!" they exclaimed excitedly. "Oh, come and kill it!"
Their cries soon brought their husbands to their sides, and all united
in belabouring the wolf. With a great effort, however, he managed to
free his tail, and ran off howling into the woods.
The fox, meantime, had profited by the absence of the householders to
make a good meal, visiting the various larders, and feasting at will
on the daintiest morsels he could find. Having eaten rather more than
was good for him, he felt disinclined for much exercise, and
determined to go in search of the wolf that he might induce him to
carry him home.
His sense of hearing being unusually keen, even for a fox, he was soon
guided to the wolf's retreat by his mournful howls.
"Look at my tail," cried the wretched animal, as the fox poked his
nose through the bushes. "See what trouble you brought upon me with
your advice! I am in such pain that I can scarcely keep still."
"Look at my head," returned the fox, who had carefully dipped it into
a flour bin after greasing it with butter that it might have the
appearance of having been skinned. The wolf was kind-hearted, though
stupid, and his sympathy was at once aroused.
"Jump on my back, little brother," he said, "and I will carry you
home."
This was exactly what the fox had been scheming for, and the words
were hardly out ere he had taken a comfortable seat. As he rode home
in this way he hummed to himself a sly little song to the effect that
he who was hurt carried him who had no hurt. Arrived at the end of his
journey, he scampered off without a word of thanks, and, as he made a
hearty supper on the remaining fish, he chuckled at the remembrance of
the trick he had played the stupid wolf.
The Fox and the Cat[1]
R. NESBIT BAIN
In a certain forest there once lived a fox, and near to the fox lived
a man who had a cat that had been a good mouser in its youth, but was
now old and half blind.
[Footnote 1: From _Cossack Fairy Tales_ (London: George G. Harrap and
Company).]
The man didn't want Puss any longer, but not liking to kill it he took
it out into the forest and lost it there. Then the fox came up and
said: "Why, Mr Shaggy Matthew, how d'ye do? What brings you here?"
"Alas!" said Pussy, "my master loved me as long as I could bite, but
now that I can bite no longer and have left off catching mice--and I
used to catch them finely once--he doesn't like to kill me, but he has
left me in the wood, where I must perish miserably."
"No, dear Pussy!" said the fox; "you leave it to me, and I'll help you
to get your daily bread."
"You are very good, dear little sister foxey!" said the cat, and the
fox built him a little shed with a garden round it to walk in.
Now one day the hare came to steal the man's cabbage.
"_Kreem-kreem-kreem!_" he squeaked. But the cat popped his head out of
the window, and when he saw the hare he put up his back and stuck up
his tail and said: "_Ft-t-t-t-t-Frrrrrrr!_"
The hare was frightened and ran away, and told the bear, the wolf and
the wild boar all about it.
"Never mind," said the bear. "I tell you what, we'll all four give a
banquet, and invite the fox and the cat, and do for the pair of them.
Now, look here! I'll steal the man's mead; and you, Mr Wolf, steal his
fat-pot; and you, Mr Wildboar, root up his fruit-trees; and you, Mr
Bunny, go and invite the fox and the cat to dinner."
So they made everything ready as the bear had said, and the hare ran
off to invite the guests. He came beneath the window and said: "We
invite your little ladyship Foxey-Woxey, together with Mr Shaggy
Matthew, to dinner," and back he ran again.
"But you should have told them to bring their spoons with them," said
the bear.
"Oh, what a head I've got!--if I didn't quite forget!" cried the hare,
and back he went again, ran beneath the window and cried: "Mind you
bring your spoons!"
"Very well," said the fox.
So the cat and the fox went to the banquet, and when the cat saw the
bacon he put up his back and stuck out his tail, and cried: "_Mee-oo,
mee-oo!_" with all his might. But they thought he said: "_Ma-lo,
ma-lo!_"[2]
[Footnote 2: "What a little! What a little!"]
"What!" said the bear, who was hiding behind the beeches with the
other beasts, "here have we four been getting together all we could,
and this pig-faced cat calls it too little! What a monstrous cat he
must be to have such an appetite!"
So they were all four very frightened, and the bear ran up a tree, and
the others hid where they could.
But when the cat saw the boar's bristles sticking out from behind the
bushes he thought it was a mouse, and put up his back again and cried:
"_Ft! ft! ft! Frrrrrrr!_" Then they were more frightened than ever.
And the boar went into a bush still farther off, and the wolf went
behind an oak, and the bear got down from the tree, and climbed up
into a bigger one, and the hare ran right away.
But the cat remained in the midst of all the good things and ate away
at the bacon, and the little fox gobbled up the honey, and they ate
and ate till they couldn't eat any more, and then they both went home
licking their paws.
_The Hobyahs_
CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY
Once upon a time there lived a little old man and a little old woman
in a house all made of hemp stalks. And they had a little dog named
Turpie who always barked when anyone came near the house.
One night when the little old man and the little old woman were fast
asleep | 2,054.78651 |
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Produced by Richard Tonsing, Greg Bergquist and the Online
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
[Illustration: AT THE FOOT OF THE CHILKOOT PASS]
ALONG
ALASKA'S GREAT RIVER
A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF THE TRAVELS OF AN ALASKA
EXPLORING EXPEDITION ALONG THE GREAT
YUKON RIVER, FROM ITS SOURCE TO ITS
MOUTH, IN THE BRITISH NORTH-WEST
TERRITORY, AND IN
THE TERRITORY OF
ALASKA.
BY
FREDERICK SCHWATKA,
LAURENTE OF THE PARIS GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY AND OF THE IMPERIAL
GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OF RUSSIA; HONORARY MEMBER
BREMEN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY, ETC., ETC., COMMANDER
OF THE EXPEDITION.
TOGETHER WITH THE LATEST INFORMATION ON THE
KLONDIKE COUNTRY.
_FULLY ILLUSTRATED._
CHICAGO NEW YORK
GEORGE M. HILL COMPANY
MDCCCC
COPYRIGHT, 1898,
GEO. M. HILL CO.
PREFACE.
These pages narrate the travels, in a popular sense, of an Alaskan
exploring expedition. The expedition was organized with seven members
at Vancouver Barracks, Washington, and left Portland, Oregon, ascending
through the inland passage to Alaska, as far as the Chilkat country. At
that point the party employed over three score of the Chilkat Indians,
the hardy inhabitants of that ice-bound country, to pack its effects
across the glacier-clad pass of the Alaskan coast range of mountains to
the headwaters of the Yukon. Here a large raft was constructed, and on
this primitive craft, sailing through nearly a hundred and fifty miles
of lakes, and shooting a number of rapids, the party floated along the
great stream for over thirteen hundred miles; the longest raft journey
ever made on behalf of geographical science. The entire river, over two
thousand miles, was traversed, the party returning home by Bering Sea,
and touching the Aleutian Islands.
The opening up of the great gold fields in the region of the upper
Yukon, has added especial interest to everything pertaining to the
great North-west. The Klondike region is the cynosure of the eyes
of all, whether they be in the clutches of the gold fever or not.
The geography, the climate, the scenery, the birds, beasts, and even
flowers of the country make fascinating subjects. In view of the new
discoveries in that part of the world, a new chapter, Chapter XIII, is
given up to a detailed description of the Klondike region. The numerous
routes by which it may be reached are described, and all the details as
to the possibilities and resources of the country are authoritatively
stated.
CHICAGO, March, 1898.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. INTRODUCTORY 9
II. THE INLAND PASSAGE TO ALASKA 12
III. IN THE CHILKAT COUNTRY 36
IV. OVER THE MOUNTAIN PASS 53
V. ALONG THE LAKES 90
VI. A CHAPTER ABOUT RAFTING 131
VII. THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE YUKON 154
VIII. DOWN THE RIVER TO SELKIRK 175
IX. THROUGH THE UPPER RAMPARTS 207
X. THROUGH THE YUKON FLAT-LANDS 264
XI. THROUGH THE LOWER RAMPARTS AND END OF RAFT JOURNEY 289
XII. DOWN THE RIVER AND HOME 313
XIII. THE KLONDIKE REGIONS 346
XIV. DISCOVERY AND HISTORY 368
XV. The People and Their Industries 386
XVI. GEOGRAPHICAL FEATURES 413
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
FRONTISPIECE (DRAWN BY WM. SCHMEDTGEN)
THE INLAND PASSAGE 12
SCENES IN THE INLAND PASSAGE 19
SITKA, ALASKA 29
CHILKAT BRACELET 36
PYRAMID HARBOR, CHILKAT INLET 43
CHILKAT INDIAN PACKER 53
METHODS OF TRACKING A CANOE UP A RAPID 64
CANOEING UP THE DAYAY 65
DAYAY VALLEY, NOURSE RIVER 73
SALMON SPEARS 76
DAYAY VALLEY, FROM CAMP 4 77
WALKING A LOG 80
CHASING A MOUNTAIN GOAT 82
ASCENDING THE PERRIER PASS 85
SNOW SHOES 87
IN A STORM ON THE LAKES 90
LAKE LINDEMAN 93
LAKE BENNETT 101
PINS FOR FASTENING MARMOT SNARES 112
LAKE BOVE 116
LAKE MARSH 121
"STICK" INDIANS 127
"SNUBBING" THE RAFT 131
AMONG THE "SWEEPERS" 134
BANKS OF THE YUKON 135
SCRAPING ALONG A BANK 140
PRYING THE RAFT OFF A BAR 145
COURSE OF RAFT AND AXIS OF STREAM 152
WHIRLPOOL AT LOWER END OF ISLAND 153
GRAYLING 154
GRAND CAÑON 163
THE CASCADES 169
ALASKA BROWN BEAR FIGHTING MOSQUITOS 174
IN THE RINK RAPIDS 175
CLAY BLUFFS ON THE YUKON 176
OUTLET OF LAKE KLUK-TAS-SI 184
THE RINK RAPIDS 191
LORING BLUFF 193
KITL-AH-GON INDIAN VILLAGE 197
INGERSOLL ISLANDS 201
THE RUINS OF SELKIRK 205
IN THE UPPER RAMPARTS 207
MOUTH OF PELLY RIVER 209
LOOKING UP YUKON FROM SELKIRK 213
AYAN GRAVE AT SELKIRK 217
AYAN INDIANS IN CANOES 221
AYAN AND CHILKAT GAMBLING TOOLS 227
PLAN OF AYAN SUMMER HOUSE 229
KON-IT'L AYAN CHIEF 230
AYAN MOOSE ARROW 231
AYAN WINTER TENT 233
A GRAVEL BANK 236
MOOSE-SKIN MOUNTAIN 243
ROQUETTE ROCK 250
KLAT-OL-KLIN VILLAGE 253
FISHING NETS 258
SALMON KILLING CLUB 259
BOUNDARY BUTTE 261
A MOOSE HEAD 264
MOSS ON YUKON RIVER 267
STEAMER "YUKON" 276
INDIAN "CACHE" 289
LOWER RAMPARTS RAPIDS 295
MOUTH OF TANANA 303
NUKLAKAYET 307
THE RAFT, AT END OF ITS JOURNEY 312
INDIAN OUT-DOOR GUN COVERING 313
FALLING BANKS OF YUKON 319
ANVIK 330
OONALASKA 344
THE KLONDIKE GOLD DISCOVERIES 348
AT THE FOOT OF CHILKOOT PASS 350
THE DESCENT OF CHILKOOT PASS 354
A MID-DAY MEAL 358
AT THE HEAD OF LAKE LA BARGE 360
INDIAN PACKERS FORDING A RIVER 364
THE WHITE HORSE RAPIDS 366
ALONG ALASKA'S GREAT RIVER.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
This Alaskan exploring expedition was composed of the following
members: Lieut. Schwatka, U.S.A., commanding; Dr. George F. Wilson,
U.S.A., Surgeon; Topographical Assistant Charles A. Homan, U.S.
Engineers, Topographer and Photographer; Sergeant Charles A. Gloster,
U.S.A., Artist; Corporal Shircliff, U.S.A., in charge of stores;
Private Roth, assistant, and Citizen J. B. McIntosh, a miner, who had
lived in Alaska and was well acquainted with its methods of travel.
Indians and others were added and discharged from time to time as
hereafter noted.
The main object of the expedition was to acquire such information of
the country traversed and its wild inhabitants as would be valuable to
the military authorities in the future, and as a map would be needful
to illustrate such information well, the party's efforts were rewarded
with making the expedition successful in a geographical sense. I
had hoped to be able, through qualified subordinates, to extend our
scientific knowledge of the country explored, especially in regard
to its botany, geology, natural history, etc.; and, although these
subjects would not in any event have been adequately discussed in a
popular treatise like the present, it must be admitted that little was
accomplished in these branches. The explanation of this is as follows:
When authority was asked from Congress for a sum of money to make such
explorations under military supervision and the request was disapproved
by the General of the Army and Secretary of War. This disapproval,
combined with the active opposition of government departments which
were assigned to work of the same general character and coupled with
the reluctance of Congress to make any appropriations whatever that
year, was sufficient to kill such an undertaking. When the military
were withdrawn from Alaska by the President, about the year 1878, a
paragraph appeared at the end of the President's order stating that
no further control would be exercised by the army in Alaska; and this
proviso was variously interpreted by the friends of the army and its
enemies, as a humiliation either to the army or to the President,
according to the private belief of the commentator. It was therefore
seriously debated whether any military expedition or party sent into
that country for any purpose whatever would not be a direct violation
of the President's proscriptive order, and when it was decided to
waive that consideration, and send in a party, it was considered too
much of a responsibility to add any specialists in science, with
the disapproval of the General and the Secretary hardly dry on the
paper. The expedition was therefore, to avoid being recalled, kept as
secret as possible, and when, on May 22d, it departed from Portland,
Oregon, upon the _Victoria_, a vessel which had been specially put on
the Alaska route, only a two or three line notice had gotten into
the Oregon papers announcing the fact; a notice that in spreading
was referred to in print by one government official as "a junketing
party," by another as a "prospecting" party, while another bitterly
acknowledged that had he received another day's intimation he could
have had the party recalled by the authorities at Washington. Thus the
little expedition which gave the first complete survey to the third[1]
river of our country stole away like a thief in the night and with far
less money in its hands to conduct it through its long journey than was
afterward appropriated by Congress to publish its report.
[1] The largest river on the North American continent so far as this
mighty stream flows within our boundaries.... The people of the United
States will not be quick to take to the idea that the volume of water
in an Alaskan river is greater than that discharged by the mighty
Mississippi; but it is entirely within the bounds of honest statement
to | 2,054.978947 |
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Internet Archive.)
ELEMENTS OF MORALS:
WITH
SPECIAL APPLICATION OF THE MORAL LAW TO THE
DUTIES OF THE INDIVIDUAL AND OF
SOCIETY AND THE STATE.
BY PAUL JANET,
MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE, OF THE ACADEMY OF MORAL AND POLITICAL
SCIENCES, AUTHOR OF THEORY OF MORALS, HISTORY OF MORAL
AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, FINAL CAUSES, ETC., ETC.
TRANSLATED BY
MRS. C. R. CORSON.
A. S. BARNES & CO.,
NEW YORK AND CHICAGO
_Copyright, 1884, by A. S. Barnes & Co._
PREFACE.
The _Elements de Morale_, by M. Paul Janet, which we here present to the
educational world, translated from the latest edition, is, of all the
works of that distinguished moralist, the one best adapted to college and
school purposes. Its scholarly and methodical arrangement, its clear and
direct reasonings, its felicitous examples and illustrations, drawn with
rare impartiality from the best ancient and modern writers, make of this
study of Ethics, generally so unattractive to young students, one
singularly inviting. It is a system of morals, practical rather than
theoretical, setting forth man's duties and the application thereto of the
moral law. Starting with _Preliminary Notions_, M. Janet follows these up
with a general division of duties, establishes the general principles of
social and individual morality, and chapter by chapter moves from duties
to duties, developing each in all its ramifications with unerring
clearness, decision, and completeness. Never before, perhaps, was this
difficult subject brought to the comprehension of the student with more
convincing certainty, and, at the same time, with more vivid and
impressive illustrations.
The position of M. Paul Janet is that of the _religious_ moralist.
"He supplies," says a writer in the _British Quarterly Review_,[1] in a
notice of his _Theory of Morals_, "the very element to which Mr. Sully
gives so little place. He cannot conceive morals without religion. Stated
shortly, his position is, that moral good is founded upon a natural and
essential good, and that the domains of good and of duty are absolutely
equivalent. So far he would seem to follow Kant; but he differs from Kant
in denying that there are indefinite duties: every duty, he holds, is
definite as to its _form_; but it is either definite or indefinite as to
its application. As religion is simply belief in the Divine goodness,
morality must by necessity lead to religion, and is like a flowerless
plant if it fail to do so. He holds with Kant that _practical faith_ in
the existence of God is the postulate of the moral law. The two things
exist or fall together."
This, as to M. Janet's position as a moralist; as to his manner of
treating his subject, the writer adds:
"... it is beyond our power to set forth, with approach to success, the
admirable series of reasonings and illustrations by which his positions
are established and maintained."
M. Janet's signal merit is the clearness and decision which he gives to
the main points of his subject, keeping them ever distinctly in view, and
strengthening and supplementing them by substantial and conclusive facts,
drawn from the best sources, framing, so to say, his idea in time-honored
and irrefutable truths.
The law of duty thus made clear to the comprehension of the student,
cannot fail to fix his attention; and between fixing the attention and
striking root, the difference is not very great.
C. R. C.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I.--Preliminary Notions 1
II.--Division of Duties.--General Principles of Social
Morality 33
III.--Duties of Justice.--Duties toward Human Life 50
IV.--Duties Concerning the Property of Others 63
V.--Duties toward the Liberty and toward the Honor of
Others.--Justice, Distributive and Remunerative.--
Equity 93
VI.--Duties of Charity and Self-Sacrifice 111
VII.--Duties toward the State 139
VIII.--Professional Duties 157
IX.--Duties of Nations among themselves.--International Law 182
X.--Family Duties 190
XI.--Duties toward One's Self.--Duties relative to the Body 223
XII.--Duties relative to External Goods 244
XIII.--Duties relative to the Intellect 260
XIV.--Duties relative to the Will 281
XV.--Religious Morality.--Religious Rights and Duties 299
XVI.--Moral Medicine and Gymnastics 315
Appendix to Chapter VIII 341
ELEMENTS OF MORALS.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY NOTIONS.
SUMMARY.
=Starting point of morals.=--Notions of common sense.
=Object and divisions of morals.=--Practical morality and theoretical
morality.
=Utility of morals.=--Morals are useful: 1, in protecting us against
the sophisms which combat them; 2, in fixing principles in the mind;
3, in teaching us to reflect upon the motives of our actions; 4, in
preparing us for the difficulties which may arise in practice.
=Short resume of theoretical morality.=--Pleasure and the good.--The
useful and the honest.--Duty.--Moral conscience and moral
sentiment.--Liberty.--Merit and demerit.--Moral responsibility.--Moral
sanction.
All sciences have for their starting-point certain elementary notions
which are furnished them by the common experience of mankind. There would
be no arithmetic if men had not, as their wants increased, begun by
counting and calculating, and if they had not already had some ideas of
numbers, unity, fractions, etc.; neither would there be any geometry if
they had not also had ideas of the round, the square, the straight line.
The same is true of morals. They presuppose a certain number of notions
existing among all men, at least to some degree. Good and evil, duty and
obligation, conscience, liberty and responsibility, virtue and vice,
merit and demerit, sanction, punishment and reward, are notions which the
philosopher has not invented, but which he has borrowed from common sense,
to return them again cleared and deepened.
Let us begin, then, by rapidly enumerating the elementary and common
notions, the analysis and elucidation of which is the object of moral
science, and explain the terms employed to express them.
=1. Starting point of morals: common notions.=--All men distinguish the
_good_ and the _bad_, _good_ actions and _bad_ actions. For instance, to
love one's parents, respect other people's property, to keep one's word,
etc., is right; to harm those who have done us no harm, to deceive and
lie, to be ungrateful towards our benefactors, and unfaithful to our
friends, etc., is wrong.
To do right is _obligatory_ on every one--that is, it _should_ be done;
wrong, on the contrary, _should_ be avoided. _Duty_ is that _law_ by which
we are held to do the right and avoid the wrong. It is also called the
_moral law_. This law, like all laws, _commands_, _forbids_, and
_permits_.
He who acts and is capable of doing the right and the wrong, and who
consequently is held to obey the moral law, is called a moral agent. In
order that an agent may be held to obey a law, he must _know it and
understand it_. In morals, as in legislation, _no one is supposed to be
ignorant of the law_. There is, then, in every man a certain knowledge of
the law, that is to say, a natural discernment of the right and the wrong.
This discernment is what is called conscience, or sometimes the _moral
sense_.
Conscience is an act of the mind, a _judgment_. But it is not only the
mind that is made aware of the right and the wrong: it is the heart. Good
and evil, done either by others or by ourselves, awaken in us emotions,
affections of diverse nature. These emotions or affections are what
collectively constitute the _moral sentiment_.
It does not suffice that a man know and distinguish the good and the evil,
and experience for the one and for the other different sentiments; it is
also necessary, in order to be a _moral agent_, that he be capable of
_choosing_ between them; he cannot be commanded to do what he cannot do,
nor can he be forbidden to do what he cannot help doing. This power of
choosing is called _liberty_, or _free will_.
A free agent--one, namely, who can discern between the right and the
wrong--is said to be responsible for his actions; that is to say, he can
answer for them, give an account of them, suffer their consequences; he is
then their _real cause_. His actions may consequently be attributed to
him, put to his account; in other words _imputed_ to him. The agent is
responsible, the actions are _imputable_.
Human actions, we have said, are sometimes good, sometimes bad. These two
qualifications have degrees in proportion to the importance or the
difficulty of the action. It is thus we call an action _suitable_,
_estimable_, _beautiful_, _admirable_, _sublime_, etc. On the other hand,
a bad action is sometimes but a simple mistake, and sometimes a _crime_.
It is _culpable_, _base_, _abominable_, _execrable_, etc.
If we observe in an agent the _habit_ of good actions, a _constant
tendency_ to conform to the law of duty, this habit or constant tendency
is called _virtue_, and the contrary tendency is called _vice_.
Whilst man feels himself bound by his conscience to seek the _right_, he
is impelled by his nature to seek _pleasure_. When he enjoys pleasure
without any admixture of pain, he is _happy_; and the highest degree of
possible pleasure with the least degree of possible pain is _happiness_.
Now, experience shows that happiness is not always in harmony with virtue,
and that pleasure does not necessarily accompany right doing.
And yet we find such a separation unjust; and we believe in a natural and
legitimate connection between pleasure and right, pain and wrong.
Pleasure, considered as the consequence of well-doing, is called
_recompense_; and pain, considered as the legitimate consequence of evil,
is called _punishment_.
When a man has done well he thinks, and all other men think, that he has a
right to a recompense. When he has done ill they think the contrary, and
he himself thinks also that he must atone for his wrong-doing by a
chastisement. This principle, by virtue of which we declare a moral agent
deserving of happiness or unhappiness according to his good or bad
actions, is called the principle of merit and demerit.
The sum total of the rewards and punishments attached to the execution or
violation of a law is called sanction; the sanction of the moral law will
then be called _moral sanction_.
All law presupposes a legislator. The moral law will presuppose, then, a
_moral_ legislator, and morality consequently raises us to God. All human
or earthly sanction being shown by observation to be insufficient, the
moral law calls for a religious sanction. It is thus that morality
conducts us to the _immortality of the soul_.
If we go back upon the whole of the ideas we have just briefly expressed,
we shall see that at each of the steps we have taken there are always two
contraries opposed the one to the other: _good_ and _evil_, _command_ and
_prohibition_, _virtue_ and _vice_, _merit_ and _demerit_, _pleasure_ and
_pain_, _reward_ and _punishment_.
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PRICE 15 Cts.
ARCHERY RULES
[Illustration: C. F. A. HINRICHS. N.Y.]
C. F. A. HINRICHS,
_No. 29 to 33 Park Place_,
NEW YORK.
Archery.
It is scarcely needful to say anything in praise of Archery. It holds
its place as the first of English sports, and is rapidly becoming
popular in America. It trains the eye, imparts a good and graceful
carriage, expands the chest, and gives plenty of walking exercise
without fatigue; moreover, it is equally adapted for both sexes.
THE EQUIPMENT OF THE ARCHER.
The first thing we have to consider is what constitutes the necessary
outfit for an archer--how it should be chosen, and how taken care of.
Before choosing his outfit, the archer should find a good maker, and
obtain from him a list of prices; having done so, he will be able to
determine what expense he is willing to go to, and then to apply the
following hints in choosing his apparatus. Let us, however, entreat
him not to sacrifice all his hopes of future success to a desire to
get cheap things; let him rely upon it that things obtained at a fair
cost from a good maker are twice as cheap as those whose only
recommendation is their low price.
The following list will show _about_ what is a fair price, and may be
a guide to our readers in future selections.
EQUIPMENTS FOR LADIES.
Fine Backed Bows, 4-1/2 to 5-1/2 ft., $4.50 to 6.00 each.
Lemon Wood Bows, 4-1/2 to 5-1/2 ft., $4.00 to $5.00 each.
Lance Wood Bows, 4-1/2 to 5-1/2 ft.
(to weight), $2.75 to $4.00 each.
Lance Wood Bows 4-1/2 to 5-1/2 ft.
(ordinary), 75c. to $2.25 each.
Practising Arrows, 25 inch, $1.50 to $3.50 per doz.
Finest French Arrows, 25 inch, (we can
highly recommend this kind), $3.50 to $5.00 per doz.
Old Deal Arrows, 25 inch, $5.50 to $7.00 per doz.
Best Footed Arrows, 25 inch, $8.50 to $11.00 per doz.
Best Flemish Bow-Strings, 25c. to 50c. each.
Quivers, $1.50 to $2.75 each.
Arm Guards, $1.25 to $2.00 each.
Shooting Glove, 63c. to $1.50 each.
Tips for Bows, 50c. per pair.
Tassel 50c. to 75c. each.
Targets, $1.00 to $7.00 each.
Target Stands, $2.50 to $5.00 each.
Bow Covers (green baize), 75c. each.
Scoring Cards and Tablets, Ivory and
Ebony Prickers, &c., 25c. to $2.00 each.
EQUIPMENTS FOR GENTLEMEN.
Fine Backed Bows, 6 ft., $9.00 to 12.00 each.
Lemon Wood Bows, 6 ft., $5.00 to $6.00 each.
Lance Wood Bows, 6 ft. (to weight), $4.00 to $5.00 each.
Lance Wood Bows, 6 ft. (ordinary), $1.50 to $2.50 each.
Practising Arrows, 28 inch, $2.00 to $4.00 per doz.
Finest French Arrows, 28 inch, (we can
highly recommend this kind), $5.00 to $6.00 per doz.
Old Deal Arrows, 28 inch, $6.00 to $7.50 per doz.
Best Footed Arrows, 28 inch, $9.00 to $12.00 per doz.
Best Flemish Bow-Strings, 25c. to 50c. each.
Quivers, $2.50 to $3.50 each.
Arm Guards, $1.00 to $2.00 each.
Shooting Glove, 75c. to $2.00 each.
Tips for Bows, 75c. per pair.
Tassel, 50c. to 75c. each.
Targets, $1.00 to $7.00 each.
Target Stands, $2.50 to $5.00 each.
Bow Covers (green baize), 75c. each.
Scoring Cards and Tablets, Ivory and
Ebony Prickers, &c., from 25c. to $2.00 each.
NOTE.--Backed Bows are far superior to the Self ones as regards
elasticity and durability.
THE BOW.
Bows are of two kinds. The _self_ bow consists either of one piece of
wood or of two dovetailed together at the handle, in which latter case
it is called a _grafted_ bow; by far the best material for a self bow
is yew, although a variety of other woods, such as lemonwood, lancewood,
&c., are used. As it is but very rarely that we are able to obtain a
piece of yew long enough for a bow of equal quality throughout, the
grafted bow was invented, in order that the two limbs, being formed by
splitting one piece of wood into two strips, may be of exactly the
same nature.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]
The _backed_ bow consists of two or more strips of wood glued together
longitudinally and compressed so as to ensure perfect union. The
strips may be of the same or of different woods--for instance, of yew
backed with yew, yew with hickory, lancewood, &c.; but of all backed
bows snakewood backed with hickory is far the best. It has been a
great subject of controversy whether the self or the backed bow be the
best for shooting purposes; we most unhesitatingly decide in favor of
the backed.
HOW TO CHOOSE IT.
In purchasing a bow, it is always better to go to a good maker; the
inferior makers, although they may sell their goods a trifle cheaper,
are still not to be depended upon, and as a good deal concerning a
bow has to be taken upon trust--_e.g._, whether the wood is properly
seasoned, horns firmly fastened, &c.--a maker who has a reputation to
lose always proves the cheapest in the end. Having selected a maker
and determined on the price you are willing to give, you will proceed
to see that the bow tapers gradually from the handle to horns; that
the wood is of straight, even grain, running longitudinally and free
from knots and pins, or that, if there are any pins, they are rendered
innocuous by having the wood left raised around them. The bow should
be quite straight, or even follow the string (bend in the direction it
will take when strung) a little. Beware of a bow which bends away from
the string; it will jar your arms out of their sockets, and should the
string break, there will be an end of it. See that both limbs are of
equal strength, in which case they will describe equal curves. The
handle should not be quite in the middle of the bow, but the upper
edge of it should be about an inch above the centre. See that there
are no sharp edges to the nocks on the horns of the bow, for if they
are not properly rounded off they will be continually cutting your
string. Lastly, make sure that your bow is not beyond your
strength--in other words, that you are not overbowed. It is a very
common thing for persons to choose very strong bows under the idea
that it gives them the appearance of being perfect Samsons; but their
ungainly struggles to bend their weapon, and the utterly futile
results of their endeavors, are, we think, anything but dignified.
The weight of the bow should be such that it can be bent without
straining, and held steadily during the time of taking aim. The
strength of bows is calculated by their _weight_, which is stamped in
pounds upon them, and which denotes the power which it takes to bend
the bow until the centre of the string is a certain distance
(twenty-eight inches for a gentleman's, twenty-five inches for a
lady's bow) from the handle. It is ascertained by suspending the bow
by the handle from a steelyard whilst the string is drawn the required
distance. Gentlemen's bows generally range from 48 lbs. to 56 lbs.,
and ladies' from 20 lbs. to 32 lbs.
HOW TO PRESERVE IT.
Many things will spoil a bow which a little care and attention would
prevent. Amongst the most fatal enemies to the bow are chrysals (see
Glossary), which, unless noticed in time, will surely end in a
fracture. A chrysal should at once be tightly lapped with fine string
saturated with glue; this, if neatly done and then varnished, will
interfere but little with the appearance of the bow. Care should be
taken not to scratch or bruise the bow. When shooting in damp weather,
the bow, especially if a backed one, should be kept well wiped, and
perfectly dried with a waxed cloth before putting away. A backed bow
is always the better for a little lapping round each end just by the
horn, which prevents the bow from breaking if by any chance the glue
is softened by damp. A bow should always be kept as dry as possible;
when going to shoot at a distance, a waterproof cover is advisable. Do
not unstring the bow too often while shooting; once in every six
double ends is quite enough, unless there are many shooters.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.]
THE ARROW.
Arrows are distinguished by weight in the same manner as bows, only in
the former it is calculated as weighed against silver money, and
arrows are known as of so many shillings weight, &c. The lengths and
weights recommended by the best authorities are as follows:
_Length._ _Weight._
For ladies. 25 in. 2s. 3d. 3s. 3d.
{ Bows of 50 lbs. }
{ and upwards, and } 28 in. 4 6 to 5 6
{ 6 feet long. }
For gentlemen.{ }
{ Bows under 50 lbs. }
{ and not exceeding } 28 in. 3 6 to 4 6
{ 5 ft. 10 in. long. }
There are two kinds of arrows--_self_, made of one piece of wood, and
_footed_, having a piece of hard wood at the pile end. The latter are
the best for several reasons, one being that they are not so likely to
break if they strike anything hard. The best material for arrows is
red deal footed with lancewood.
HOW TO CHOOSE IT.
The first thing to ascertain is whether it is quite straight, which is
done by bringing the tips of the thumb and two first fingers of the
left hand together and laying the arrow thereon, while it is turned
round by the right hand. If it goes smoothly, it is straight; but if
it jerks at all it is crooked. Then make sure that it is stiff enough
to stand the force of the bow without bending, as, if too weak, it
will never fly straight. The pile or point should be what is called
the square-shouldered pile; some prefer the sharp pile, but the other
answers best for all purposes. The nock should be full and the notch
pretty deep; a piece of horn should be let in at the notch to prevent
the string splitting the arrow. The feathers should be full-sized,
evenly and well cut, and inserted at equal distances from each other,
as shown in the plate. It has been much disputed whether the
Bobtailed, the Chested, the Barrelled, or the Straight arrow is the
best to shoot with (see Glossary). Horace Ford, the champion shot,
decides in favor of the straight arrow, and our readers cannot do
better than take his advice. The arrow should be carefully wiped each
time it is picked up, and this not only to preserve it, but also
because the least particle of dirt clinging to the pile will
effectually spoil the flight of the arrow. Every care should be taken
to keep the feathers smooth and stiff; if attention be not paid to
this point everything else will be in vain. Should they by chance
become ruffled, a little warming in front of a fire (not too close)
will generally restore them.
THE BOW-STRING.
The best bow-strings are of foreign manufacture, and are generally
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THE DIARY OF A TURK
[Illustration: PRINCES IN LANCERS' UNIFORM.]
THE DIARY OF A
TURK
BY
HALIL HALID, M.A., M.R.A.S.
CONTAINING EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1903
TO THE MEMORY OF
E. F. W. GIBB
ORIENTAL SCHOLAR, AND THE AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF OTTOMAN POETRY"
PREFACE
ALTHOUGH no Western Power has ever played a greater part in the
problems of the Ottoman Empire than Great Britain, yet in no other
country in Western Europe is Turkey more grossly misunderstood. I have
been many times asked by my English acquaintances to write a book on
Turkey from a Turkish point of view, and two ways of writing were
suggested to me: the one was to compile a detailed work, the other
to write a small and light book. To take the former advice was not
possible to me, as I found myself incapable of producing a great and
technical work. Besides, I thought that after all a small and lightly
written volume would have a larger circle of readers, and by its help I
could to some extent correct some of the mistaken ideas prevailing in
England about Turkey. Therefore I began to write this little volume in
the form of a book of travel, and I now bring it out under the title of
_The Diary of a Turk_. By this means I have been able to talk a little
on many matters connected with Turkey. Let the critic find other points
in this book on which to express his opinion, but do not let him charge
me with ignorance of the fact that the somewhat unexciting experiences
of an unknown man may be only of slight interest to the public.
In the chapter on women's affairs I have quoted a few paragraphs from
two articles which I contributed some time ago to two London weeklies,
the _Queen_ and the _Lady_, I render my thanks to the Editors of these
papers for kindly permitting me to reproduce them here.
H. H.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAG.
I. MY HOME IN ASIA MINOR 1
II. AT SCHOOL AND IN THE HAREM 23
III. THE HAREM AND WOMEN IN THE EAST 46
IV. I GO TO CONSTANTINOPLE AND PURSUE MY
STUDIES 75
V. A NEW PROFESSION AND THE QUESTION OF
CONSCRIPTION 97
VI. TURKEY'S INTERNAL DANGERS 118
VII. A NEW COSTUME AND A NEW CAREER 134
VIII. THE SUBLIME PORTE AND YILDIZ KIOSK 150
IX. THE CEREMONY OF THE SELAMLIK 164
X. THE SULTAN'S POLICY 175
XI. THE STRUGGLE WITH YOUNG-TURKEY 186
XII. ENGLAND AND THE CALIPHATE 200
XIII. A LAST VISIT TO ASIA MINOR 211
XIV. A SPY IN A BATH 225
XV. FLIGHT TO ENGLAND 238
XVI. A RETURN AND A SECOND FLIGHT 253
ILLUSTRATIONS
PRINCES IN LANCERS' UNIFORM Frontispiece
A PICKNICKING RESORT To face page 54
A VILLAGE WEDDING PROCESSION " " 70
A TURKISH CEMETERY " " 84
OFFICERS OF LANCERS " " 114
HAMIDIEH MOSQUE " " 172
AN OLD SERAGLIO " " 184
A WRESTLING MATCH IN OLDEN DAYS " " 220
THE DIARY OF A TURK
CHAPTER I.
MY HOME IN ASIA MINOR.
My Asiatic origin--My great-grandfather's religious
order--His miracles--My grandfather and Sultan Mahmud
II.--An ordeal by wine--My father's charitable
extravagance--His death--Primitive surgery in Asia
Minor--The original home of vaccination--My mother's
European ancestors--Writing a forbidden accomplishment
for women.
I was born in the ancient town of Angora, Asia Minor, famous not alone
for its silky-haired cats and goats, but also for its historical and
archæological importance, and with it my memories of early days, and
therefore the pages of my desultory journal, naturally begin. Men
of learning who have engaged in researches into the archæology and
biblical history of Asia Minor have come to the conclusion that this
town was once in the remote past the principal centre of a wandering
branch of the Celtic peoples who ultimately settled in Asia Minor.
Although, of course, it was conquered and held during later generations
by the Eastern invaders, it is even nowadays noticeable that there
is a difference, both of character and physique, between most of
the inhabitants of our province and those of other provinces, more
especially of Southern and Eastern Asia Minor. By remarking on this I
do not wish to seem to be trying to trace my origin to a European race,
though I am aware that many people in this country are unsympathetic,
and even, perhaps, prejudiced, where Orientals are concerned. My
paternal ancestors came across from Central Asia, and first settled in
Khorassan, in Persia. But as they were devout followers of the orthodox
creed of the Arabian Prophet they were subjected to the intolerant
oppression of the Persian Moslems, between whom and the orthodox
believers the history of Western Asia records many a sanguinary
feud, the result of their doctrinal antagonism. My ancestors were
compelled eventually to emigrate to Asia Minor over a hundred and
fifty years ago, and there they found a more hospitable reception. My
great-grandfather was the sheikh or head of a religious order called
_Halvati_, or, to give the name an English equivalent, "those who
worship in seclusion." The name arises from one of the strict rules
of the order, that its rites must not be displayed to the outside
public, doubtless a measure for the prevention of hypocrisy. Historical
research has traced the foundation of the order to Ali, the son-in-law
of Mohammed. Shortly after settling in Asia Minor the disciples of
the great sheikh increased to a number approaching eighty thousand,
and pilgrims came to his monastic dwelling from all the neighbouring
provinces. It was not only in Anatolia and Syria that his name was
honoured; he is mentioned with reverence in the books written in Egypt
at that time. It must not be imagined that he was a kind of _Mahdi_,
a name which is familiar in England on account of its having been
assumed by the late pretender in the Soudan. In the days gone by many
such Mahdis, | 2,069.655638 |
2023-11-16 18:51:33.7344500 | 150 | 10 |
This etext was prepared with the use of Calera WordScan Plus 2.0
THE FLIRT
BY
BOOTH TARKINGTON
To
SUSANAH
THE FLIRT
CHAPTER ONE
Valentine Corliss walked up Corliss Street the hottest afternoon
of that hot August, a year ago, wearing a suit of white serge
which attracted a little attention from those observers who were
able to observe anything except the heat. The coat was shaped
delicately; it outlined the wearer, and, fitting him as women's
clothes fit women, suggested an effeminacy not an attribute of the
tall Corliss. The effeminacy belonged all to the tailor | 2,069.75449 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.1342350 | 386 | 31 |
Produced by Giovanni Fini and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
EXPERIMENTS
ON
_THE NERVOUS SYSTEM_,
WITH OPIUM AND METALLINE SUBSTANCES;
MADE CHIEFLY WITH THE VIEW OF DETERMINING THE
_NATURE AND EFFECTS_
OF
ANIMAL ELECTRICITY.
BY ALEXANDER MONRO, M. D.
PROFESSOR OF MEDICINE, ANATOMY AND SURGERY IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF EDINBURGH; FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS,
AND OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH, AND OF
THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SURGERY IN PARIS.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED BY ADAM NEILL AND COMPANY,
FOR BELL & BRADFUTE, AND T. DUNCAN;
AND J. JOHNSON, LONDON.
M.DCC.XCIII.
CONTENTS.
_Page_
INTRODUCTION, 5
Observations on the Circulating and Nervous Systems of Frogs, 6
Experiments with Opium, 9
Corollaries from the above Facts and Experiments, 12
Summary of Experiments made on Animals with Metalline Substances, 17
Summary of Facts proved by the foregoing Experiments, 35
Resemblance of the Fluid put in Motion by the foregoing
Experiments to the Electrical Fluid, 38
The Nervous Fluid or Energy not the same with the | 2,070.154275 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.5342030 | 2,503 | 26 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of Beauchamps Career, by George Meredith, v5
#63 in our series by George Meredith
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THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE | 2,070.554243 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.5394660 | 331 | 52 |
Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, David Garcia, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
[Illustration: MADISON CAWEIN]
Under the Stars and Stripes.
High on the world did our fathers of old,
Under the stars and stripes,
Blazon the name that we now must uphold,
Under the stars and stripes.
Vast in the past they have builded an arch
Over which Freedom has lighted her torch.
Follow it! Follow it! Come, let us march
Under the stars and stripes!
We in whose bodies the blood of them runs,
Under the stars and stripes,
We will acquit us as sons of their sons,
Under the stars and stripes.
Ever for justice, our heel upon wrong,
We in the light of our vengeance thrice strong!
Rally together! Come tramping along
Under the stars and stripes!
Out of our strength and a nation's great need,
Under the stars and stripes,
Heroes again as of old we shall breed,
Under the stars and stripes.
Broad to the winds be our banner unfurled!
Straight in Spain's face let defiance be hurled!
God on our side, we will battle the world
Under the stars and stripes!
MADISON CAWEIN.
From "_Poems of American Patriotism_,"
selected by _R. L. Paget_.
| 2,070.559506 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.6357250 | 423 | 22 |
Produced by John Bean
WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES
By Herbert George Wells
CHAPTER I. INSOMNIA
One afternoon, at low water, Mr. Isbister, a young artist lodging at
Boscastle, walked from that place to the picturesque cove of Pentargen,
desiring to examine the caves there. Halfway down the precipitous
path to the Pentargen beach he came suddenly upon a man sitting in an
attitude of profound distress beneath a projecting mass of rock. The
hands of this man hung limply over his knees, his eyes were red and
staring before him, and his face was wet with tears.
He glanced round at Isbister's footfall. Both men were disconcerted,
Isbister the more so, and, to override the awkwardness of his
involuntary pause, he remarked, with an air of mature conviction, that
the weather was hot for the time of year.
"Very," answered the stranger shortly, hesitated a second, and added in
a colourless tone, "I can't sleep."
Isbister stopped abruptly. "No?" was all he said, but his bearing
conveyed his helpful impulse.
"It may sound incredible," said the stranger, turning weary eyes to
Isbister's face and emphasizing his words with a languid hand, "but I
have had no sleep--no sleep at all for six nights."
"Had advice?"
"Yes. Bad advice for the most part. Drugs. My nervous system.... They
are all very well for the run of people. It's hard to explain. I dare
not take... sufficiently powerful drugs."
"That makes it difficult," said Isbister.
He stood helplessly in the narrow path, perplexed what to do. Clearly
the man wanted to talk. An idea natural enough under the circumstances,
prompted him to keep the conversation going. "I've never suffered from
sleeplessness myself," he said in a tone of commonplace gossip, " | 2,070.655765 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.6559460 | 709 | 6 |
Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
Transcriber’s Note:
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
For more transcriber’s notes, please go to the end of this e-book.
THE
BLOOD COVENANT
A PRIMITIVE RITE
AND ITS BEARINGS ON SCRIPTURE
BY
H. CLAY TRUMBULL D.D.
Author of “Kadesh Barnea.”
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1885
COPYRIGHT, 1885
BY H. CLAY TRUMBULL
GRANT & FAIRES
PHILADELPHIA
PREFACE.
It was while engaged in the preparation of a book--still unfinished--on
the Sway of Friendship in the World’s Forces, that I came upon facts
concerning the primitive rite of covenanting by the inter-transfusion
of blood, which induced me to turn aside from my other studies, in
order to pursue investigations in this direction.
Having an engagement to deliver a series of lectures before the Summer
School of Hebrew, under Professor W. R. Harper, of Chicago, at the
buildings of the Episcopal Divinity School, in Philadelphia, I decided
to make this rite and its linkings the theme of that series; and I
delivered three lectures, accordingly, June 16-18, 1885.
The interest manifested in the subject by those who heard the Lectures,
as well as the importance of the theme itself, has seemed sufficient
to warrant its presentation to a larger public. In this publishing,
the form of the original Lectures has, for convenience sake, been
adhered to; although some considerable additions to the text, in the
way of illustrative facts, have been made, since the delivery of the
Lectures; while other similar material is given in an Appendix.
From the very freshness of the subject itself, there was added
difficulty in gathering the material for its illustration and
exposition. So far as I could learn, no one had gone over the ground
before me, in this particular line of research; hence the various items
essential to a fair statement of the case must be searched for through
many diverse volumes of travel and of history and of archæological
compilation, with only here and there an incidental disclosure in
return. Yet, each new discovery opened the way for other discoveries
beyond; and even after the Lectures, in their present form, were
already in type, I gained many fresh facts, which I wish had been
earlier available to me. Indeed, I may say that no portion of the
volume is of more importance than the Appendix; where are added facts
and reasonings bearing directly on well-nigh every main point of the
original Lectures.
There is cause for just surprise that the chief facts of this entire
subject have been so generally overlooked, in all the theological
discussions, and in all the physio-sociological researches, of
the earlier and the later times. Yet this only furnishes another
illustration of the inevitably cramping influence of a pre-conceived | 2,070.675986 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.7590000 | 1,652 | 12 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Many spelling and punctuation errors have been corrected. A list of the
etext transcriber's spelling corrections follows the text. Consistent
archaic spellings have not been changed. (courtseyed, hight, gallopped,
befel, spirted, drily, abysm, etc.)
PRICE, 25 CENTS. No. 77.
THE SUNSET SERIES.
By Subscription, per Year, Nine Dollars. January 25, 1894.
Entered at the New York Post Office as second-class matter.
Copyright 1892, by J. S. OGILVIE.
THE
MESMERIST'S VICTIM.
BY
ALEX. DUMAS.
NEW YORK:
J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,
57 ROSE STREET.
A WONDERFUL OFFER!
70 House Plans for $1.00.
[Illustration]
If you are thinking about building a house don't fail to get the new
book
PALLISER'S AMERICAN ARCHITECTURE,
containing 104 pages, 11x14 inches in size, consisting of large 9x12
plate pages giving plans, elevations, perspective views, descriptions,
owner's names, actual cost of construction (=_no guess work_=), and
instructions =_How to Build_= 70 Cottages, Villas, Double Houses, Brick
Block Houses, suitable for city suburbs, town and country, houses for
the farm, and workingmen's homes for all sections of the country, and
costing from $300 to $6,500, together with specifications, form of
contract, and a large amount of information on the erection of buildings
and employment of architects, prepared by Palliser, Palliser & Co., the
well-known architects.
This book will save you hundreds of dollars.
There is not a Builder, nor anyone intending to build or otherwise
interested, that can afford to be without it. It is a practical work,
and the best, cheapest and most popular book ever issued on Building.
Nearly four hundred drawings.
It is worth $5.00 to anyone, but we will send it bound in paper cover,
by mail, post-paid for only $1.00; bound in handsome cloth, $2.00.
Address all orders to
_J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING CO.,_
_Lock Box 2767. 57 Rose Street, New York._
THE MESMERIST'S VICTIM;
OR,
ANDREA DE TAVERNEY.
A HISTORICAL ROMANCE
BY ALEX. DUMAS.
Author of "Monte Cristo," "The Three Musketeers _Series_," "Chicot
the Jester _Series_," etc.
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATEST PARIS EDITION.
BY
HENRY LLEWELLYN WILLIAMS.
NEW YORK:
J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,
57 ROSE STREET.
_Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1892, by A. E. Smith &
Co, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington._
THE MESMERIST'S VICTIM;
OR,
ANDREA DE TAVERNEY.
CHAPTER I.
THE DESPERATE RESCUE.
On the thirteenth of May, 1770, Paris celebrated the wedding of the
Dauphin or Prince Royal Louis Aguste, grandson of Louis XV. still
reigning, with Marie-Antoinette, Archduchess of Austria.
The entire population flocked towards Louis XV. Place, where fireworks
were to be let off. A pyrotechnical display was the finish to all grand
public ceremonies, and the Parisians were fond of them although they
might make fun.
The ground was happily chosen, as it would hold six thousand spectators.
Around the equestrian statue of the King, stands were built circularly
to give a view of the fireworks, to be set off at ten or twelve feet
elevation.
The townsfolk began to assemble long before seven o'clock when the City
Guard arrived to keep order. This duty rather belonged to the French
Guards, but the Municipal government had refused the extra pay their
Commander, Colonel, the Marshal Duke Biron, demanded, and these warriors
in a huff were scattered in the mob, vexed and quarrelsome. They sneered
loudly at the tumult, which they boasted they would have quelled with
the pike-stock or the musket-butt if they had the ruling of the
gathering.
The shrieks of the women, squeezed in the press, the wailing of the
children, the swearing of the troopers, the grumbling of the fat
citizens, the protests of the cake and candy merchants whose goods were
stolen, all prepared a petty uproar preceding the deafening one which
six hundred thousand souls were sure to create when collected. At eight
at evening, they produced a vast picture, like one after Teniers, but
with French faces.
About half past eight nearly all eyes were fastened on the scaffold
where the famous Ruggieri and his assistants were putting the final
touches to the matches and fuses of the old pieces. Many large
compositions were on the frames. The grand bouquet, or shower of stars,
girandoles and squibs, with which such shows always conclude, was to go
off from a rampart, near the Seine River, on a raised bank.
As the men carried their lanterns to the places where the pieces would
be fired, a lively sensation was raised in the throng, and some of the
timid drew back, which made the whole waver in line.
Carriages with the better class still arrived but they could not reach
the stand to deposit their passengers. The mob hemmed them in and some
persons objected to having the horses lay their heads on their shoulder.
Behind the horses and vehicles the crowd continued to increase, so that
the conveyances could not move one way or another. Then were seen with
the audacity of the city-bred, the boys and the rougher men climb upon
the wheels and finally swarm upon the footman's board and the coachman's
box.
The illumination of the main streets threw a red glare on the sea of
faces, and flashed from the bayonets of the city guardsmen, as
conspicuous as a blade of wheat in a reaped field.
About nine o'clock one of these coaches came up, but three rows of
carriages were before the stand, all wedged in and covered with the
sightseers. Hanging onto the springs was a young man, who kicked away
those who tried to share with him the use of this locomotive to cleave a
path in the concourse. When it stopped, however, he dropped down but
without letting go of the friendly spring with one hand. Thus he was
able to hear the excited talk of the passengers.
Out of the window was thrust the head of a young and beautiful girl,
wearing white and having lace on her sunny head.
"Come, come, Andrea," said a testy voice of an elderly man within to
her, "do not lean out so, or you will have some rough fellow snatch a
kiss. Do you not see that our coach is stuck in this mass like a boat in
a mudflat? we are in the water, and dirty water at that; do not let us
be fouled."
"We can't see anything, father," said the girl, drawing in her head: "if
the horse turned half round we could have a look through the window, and
would see as well | 2,070.77904 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.8505520 | 3,977 | 10 |
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Illustration: "Great Scott!" ejaculated Frank, "It's a girl!"]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Boy Allies
On the North Sea Patrol
OR
Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet
By Ensign ROBERT L. DRAKE
AUTHOR OF
"The Boy Allies Under Two Flags"
"The Boy Allies With the Terror of the Seas"
"The Boy Allies With the Flying Squadron"
A. L. BURT COMPANY
NEW YORK
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1915
BY A. L. BURT COMPANY
THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL
CHAPTER I.
SHANGHAIED.
"Help! Help!"
Frank Chadwick, strolling along the water-front in Naples, stopped
suddenly in his tracks and gazed in the direction from whence had come
the cry of distress.
"Help! Help!" came the cry again, in English.
Frank dashed forward toward a dirty-looking sailors' boarding house,
from the inside of which he could distinguish the sounds of a struggle.
As he sprang through the door, at the far end of the room he saw a
little man in a red sweater, unmistakably an American, apparently
battling for his life with two swarthy Italians, both armed with
gleaming knives.
Frank jumped forward with a cry, and as he did so, the Italians turned
and fled. The little American wiped his face on his sleeve, and then
turned to Frank with outstretched hand.
"You came just in time," he declared. "I thought it was all up with me."
"I'm glad I did," replied the lad, grasping the other's hand.
"Yes, sir," continued the little man. "If you hadn't-a-come, them <DW55>s
would-a-done for me sure."
He led the way to an adjoining room, Frank following him. He sat down at
a table and rapped loudly upon it.
"Let's have a drink," he said, as a greasy-looking Italian in an even
more greasy apron entered the room.
"Thanks," replied Frank; "but I don't drink."
"Oh, come on now," urged the other; "take something."
"No," said Frank with finality. "I must go," he continued, turning
toward the door. "I am glad to have been of some assistance to you."
But even as he turned the American in the red sweater stamped twice upon
the floor and a trap door fell away beneath Frank's feet. The lad caught
a glimpse of water below.
His elbow struck the floor as he went down, and he fell head-first into
a small rowboat. His head struck the bottom of the boat with sickening
force, stunning him.
It was almost an hour later when his wits began to return to him. He
took in the scene around him. He stood on the deck of a small schooner,
and a great hulk of a man with an evil face stood near him, arguing with
his friend of the red sweater.
"What is this thing you've brought me?" shouted the big man. "If we
don't look out we'll step on it and break it. It hadn't ought to be
around without its ma."
"Oh, he'll do all right, captain," replied the red sweater. "But I've
got to skip or I'll have the patrol boat after me. Do you sign or not?"
"Well, I'll tackle this one, but if he ain't up to snuff he'll come back
by freight, and don't you forget it."
The red sweater pocketed a note the captain handed him, went over the
side of the schooner and rowed off.
Frank gazed about the schooner. Several dirty sailors, fully as evil
looking as the captain, were working about the deck. Apparently they
were foreigners. The captain appeared to be an American.
The captain, Harwood by name, turned to Frank.
"Get forward," he commanded.
Frank drew himself up.
"What's the meaning of this?" he exclaimed. "I demand to be put ashore."
"Is that so," sneered the big captain; "and why do you suppose I went to
all this trouble to get you here, huh? Now you listen to me. I'm captain
of this here tub, and what I say goes. Get forward!"
Still Frank stood still.
"Look here," he began, "I----"
The captain knocked him down with a single blow of his great fist, and
kicked his prostrate form. Then he picked him up, caught him by the neck
and the slack of his coat and ran him forward to the hatchway, and flung
him below.
As Frank picked himself up there descended upon him a deluge of clothes,
followed by the captain's voice.
"There's your outfit, Willie, and it won't cost you a cent. You've got
two minutes to get into them, and I hope you won't force me to give you
any assistance."
Frank Chadwick was a lad of discretion. Therefore he made haste to
change, and in less than the allotted time he again emerged on deck.
Frank had just passed his sixteenth birthday. Always athletically
inclined, he was extremely large for his age; and his muscles, hardened
by much outdoor exercise, made him a match for many a man twice his age,
as he had proven more than once when forced to do so.
His father was a well-to-do physician in a small New England town. For a
lad of his years, Frank was an expert in the art of self-defense. Also
he could ride, shoot and fence.
While the lad was by no means an expert with sailing vessels, he
nevertheless had had some experience in that line. At home he had a
small sailboat and in the summer months spent many hours upon the water.
Consequently he was well versed in nautical terms.
This summer Frank and his father had been touring Europe. The war clouds
which had hovered over the continent for weeks had finally burst while
father and son were in Germany. In getting out of the country the two
had been separated, and for two days now the lad had been unable to find
Dr. Chadwick.
Frank was well up on his history, and this, together with the fact that
his mother was of English descent, turned his sympathies with the
allies. Also he was a student of literature and languages, and could
converse fluently in French, German and Italian.
As has been said, Frank was a lad of discretion; which is the reason he
appeared upon deck again within the two minutes allowed him by the
captain.
He emerged from below with blood upon his face and the grime of an
unclean ship upon his hands. As he came on deck he saw the crew of the
schooner hurrying forward, six of them, Italians every one. On the
quarterdeck stood the captain.
"Look at Willie," shouted the captain in great glee. "Clap on to the
starboard windlass brake, son."
Frank saw the Italians ranged about what he supposed was the windlass in
the bow. He took his place among them, grasping one of the bars.
"Break down!" came the next order, and Frank and the Italians obeyed,
bearing up and down on the bars till the slack of the anchor chain came
home and stretched taut and dripping from the hawse-holes.
"'Vast heavin'!"
Frank released his hold on the brake. Orders came thick and fast now,
and Frank's experience with his own sailboat stood him in good stead,
and soon the schooner was beating out to sea.
The wind blew violent and cold, and the spray was flying like icy
small-shot. The schooner rolled and plunged and heaved and sank and rose
again. Frank was drenched to the skin and sore in every joint.
The captain at length ordered the cook to give the men their food.
"Get forward, son," he commanded, fixing Frank with his eye.
Frank descended below. The Italians were already there, sitting on the
edges of their bunks. The cook brought in supper, stewed beef and pork.
A liquor that bore a slight resemblance to coffee was served. This was
Black Jack.
"Well," muttered Frank, looking at the mess of which the Italians were
eating hungrily, "I've got to come to it some time."
He took his knife from his pocket, opened the big blade and cut off a
piece of pork. This he forced himself to eat. Then he once more went on
deck.
Half an hour later the captain emerged from his cabin. Then he and an
Italian he called Charlie, who, in the absence of a mate, appeared to be
the second in command, began to choose the men for their watches. Frank
found himself in the captain's watch.
"I may as well tell you," he said to the captain, "that I'm no sailor."
"Well, you will be, son," came the reply. "You'll either be a sailor or
shark bait."
The watches divided, the captain said to Frank:
"Son, I'm going to do you a real favor. You can berth aft in the cabin
with Charlie and me, and you can make free of my quarterdeck. Maybe you
ain't used to the way of sailormen, but you can take it from me those
are two real concessions."
"Will you tell me where we are bound, captain?" asked Frank.
"I'll tell you it's none of your business," came the sharp reply. "You
do as I say and ask no questions."
About an hour later Frank turned in. The captain showed him his bunk. It
was under the companionway that led down into the cabin. The captain
bunked on one side and Charlie on the other.
As Frank made his way to his bunk, he saw a sight that caused him to
catch his breath in surprise.
In a fourth bunk, above the one in which the captain slept, was the
figure of another man. Approaching closer, Frank saw that the man was
bound and gagged, and apparently unconscious.
"Hmmm," he muttered. "Wonder what this means?"
And at his words the occupant of the bunk moved slightly and moaned.
CHAPTER II.
MUTINY.
Frank went over to the bunk and peered in. At that moment Captain
Harwood's voice broke upon his ear.
"Looking at my little long lost chum, are you, son?" he said in a low,
gentle voice. "Well," and his voice grew suddenly harsh, "don't do it!
You keep away from there! You hear me? You keep away or I'll feed you to
the little fishes!"
He aimed a vicious blow at Frank, which the lad avoided only by a quick
backward leap. The captain took a step forward as though to continue his
attack; then changed his mind and said:
"I don't want to hurt you, son, but you'll have to keep away from my
property."
The captain turned on his heel and went on deck.
In spite of the captain's warning, Frank once more approached the man in
the bunk; but he kept a wary eye on the door. Putting his foot on the
edge of the captain's bunk, he pulled himself up.
The bound man was still moaning feebly. Frank removed the gag from his
mouth.
"Thanks," said the man in a low voice in English. "I didn't think I
could stand that thing in my mouth another instant."
"What's the matter, anyhow," demanded Frank. "Why are you kept a
prisoner here?"
"It's a long story," was the reply, "and I haven't time to tell you now.
But I can say this much, for I don't believe you will repeat it. I'm in
the English diplomatic corps and am on an important mission. My capture
must be the work of treachery. I suppose I am to be turned over to the
Germans."
"I thought diplomacy was a thing of the past," said Frank. "Of what use
is diplomacy now that practically the whole of Europe is at war?"
"That's just it," was the reply. "The whole of Europe is not at war.
Italy is still neutral, but unless something happens she is likely to
throw in her fortunes with Germany."
"But what have you got to do with that?"
The man in the bunk was silent for a few moments.
"All I can say," he replied finally, "is that I am supposed to see that
something happens; or rather, I should say, I am to help."
"But how did you get here?"
"I was trapped. There is a traitor somewhere. It looks as though I am
done for. The Germans know me. They will show me no mercy."
"Surely, it's not as bad as all that!" exclaimed Frank.
"Worse, if possible," was the reply.
"But I can't believe Captain Harwood, an American, would be engaged in
work of that sort."
"Harwood!" exclaimed, the man in the bunk. "A more villainous pirate
never lived. I know him of old. I don't know how he happened to be
sailing at this exact time. He certainly is not making this trip on my
account alone. He's up to some other game."
Frank was struck with an idea.
"But the crew," he exclaimed. "Can't we get some help from them?"
"Don't you bank on that," was the reply.
"But----" began Frank.
The man in the bunk interrupted.
"Sh-h-h!" he cautioned. "Footsteps!"
Frank listened a moment; then with a quick spring jumped into his own
bunk just as Captain Harwood again appeared. The captain approached him.
To all appearances Frank was sleeping soundly. The captain grunted and
then approached the man in the bunk.
"So!" he exclaimed. "I've got you again, eh! Well, this time you won't
get away. You don't think I've forgotten I spent two years behind the
bars on your account, do you? I haven't. You hear me!"
He struck the helpless man a blow with his fist.
"Why don't you answer me?" he demanded; then smiled to himself. "Oh, I
forgot. Guess I'll remove that gag and let you say something."
He climbed up and leaned over the occupant of the upper bunk, then
started back with a cry.
"How did you remove that gag?" he demanded; then continued, "O-ho I see.
Little Willie boy, eh! Well----"
He turned toward Frank and at the same moment the man in the bunk let
out a cry of warning.
But Frank was not to be caught napping. As the captain turned toward him
he sprang to his feet and placed himself in an attitude of defense. He
knew that he was no match for the giant captain, but he determined to
give a good account of himself.
"Well, well," cried the captain advancing, "little Willie is going to
fight! What d'ye think o' that?"
He doubled his huge fists and took another step forward; but at that
instant there came a fearful cry from on deck.
The captain paused, and Charlie's voice came down the hatchway in a loud
wail:
"Help!"
Captain Harwood sprang toward the door, and as he went through it he
hurled back over his shoulder:
"I'll 'tend to your case when I come back, son!"
A moment later there came cries from above and the sound of a furious
struggle. Frank rushed up the hatchway to the deck, where a terrible
sight met his eyes.
Surrounded by all six of the crew. Captain Harwood was battling
desperately for his life. Time after time he struck out with his great
fists, but his blows failed to land. The nimble Italians skipped back,
then closed in again. By the wheel, Frank saw the unconscious form of
Charlie.
Long, wicked-looking knives gleamed in the hands of the Italians.
Bleeding from half a dozen wounds, the giant captain continued to fight
off his enemies.
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Frank. "I can't stand here and see him killed!"
He sprang forward and, before his presence was noted, struck down one of
the Italians with a blow of his fist.
The captain noted with a nod this aid from such an unexpected source.
"Good work, son!" he exclaimed.
Frank turned to another of the Italians, but as he did so the man he had
knocked down arose, stooped and picked up a belaying pin that lay
nearby, and struck Frank a heavy blow on the head.
The lad dropped to the deck unconscious. At the same moment the other
Italians sprang upon the captain with even greater ferocity. In vain he
tried to fight them off. Two he knocked down with hammer-like blows of
his great fists. Then, seizing a descending arm, he twisted sharply and
a knife fell clattering to the deck.
At the same moment another Italian sprang upon his unprotected back, and
buried his knife to the hilt. Three times the captain spun around on his
heel, then fell to the deck on his face. Instantly half a dozen knives
were buried in his back. The captain gave a great sob, shuddered, and
lay still.
Roughly the Italians picked up the great body, carried it to the rail
and threw it into the sea. The body of Charlie was treated in a similar
manner. Then the Italians approached Frank.
As they picked him up he groaned. Consciousness was returning.
"He's still alive," came a voice. "What shall we do with him?"
"Overboard with him anyhow," came the reply.
"No," said another voice. "Let him live. Tie him up and put him below
with the other prisoner. There is a good price on the head of one,
according to what the captain said. The other may be worth something."
It was now dark; but suddenly the little schooner was the center of a
dazzling light and a shot rang out over the water. Dimly, could be made
out the outlines of a battle cruiser. A second shot rang out--a command
to heave-to.
"Quick!" cried one of the mutineers, apparently the leader of the gang.
"We must make a run for it. Tie this dog up and throw him below | 2,070.870592 |
2023-11-16 18:51:34.9342780 | 158 | 25 |
Produced by K. Nordquist, Greg Bergquist and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
A Broader
Mission for
Liberal Education...
_Baccalaureate Address,
Delivered in
Agricultural College Chapel,
Sunday, June 9, 1901._
_By_....
J. H. WORST, LL. D.
_President._
A Broader Mission for Liberal
Education.
Baccalaureate Address, Delivered in Agricultural
College Chapel, Sunday, June 9, 1901.
BY J. H. WORST, LL. D.
AGRICULTURAL | 2,070.954318 |
2023-11-16 18:51:35.1358950 | 613 | 8 |
Produced by David Widger
MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF ST. CLOUD
By Lewis Goldsmith
Being Secret Letters from a Gentleman at Paris to a Nobleman in London
PUBLISHERS' NOTE.
The present work contains particulars of the great Napoleon not to be
found in any other publication, and forms an interesting addition to the
information generally known about him.
The writer of the Letters (whose name is said to have been Stewarton, and
who had been a friend of the Empress Josephine in her happier, if less
brilliant days) gives full accounts of the lives of nearly all Napoleon's
Ministers and Generals, in addition to those of a great number of other
characters, and an insight into the inner life of those who formed
Napoleon's Court.
All sorts and conditions of men are dealt with--adherents who have come
over from the Royalist camp, as well as those who have won their way
upwards as soldiers, as did Napoleon himself. In fact, the work abounds
with anecdotes of Napoleon, Talleyrand, Fouche, and a host of others, and
astounding particulars are given of the mysterious disappearance of those
persons who were unfortunate enough to incur the displeasure of Napoleon.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
At Cardinal Caprara's
Cardinal Fesch
Episode at Mme. Miot's
Napoleon's Guard
A Grand Dinner
Chaptal
Turreaux
Carrier
Barrere
Cambaceres
Pauline Bonaparte
SECRET COURT MEMOIRS.
THE COURT OF ST. CLOUD.
INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
PARIS, November 10th, 1805.
MY LORD,--The Letters I have written to you were intended for the private
entertainment of a liberal friend, and not for the general perusal of a
severe public. Had I imagined that their contents would have penetrated
beyond your closet or the circle of your intimate acquaintance, several
of the narratives would have been extended, while others would have been
compressed; the anecdotes would have been more numerous, and my own
remarks fewer; some portraits would have been left out, others drawn, and
all better finished. I should then have attempted more frequently to
expose meanness to contempt, and treachery to abhorrence; should have
lashed more severely incorrigible vice, and oftener held out to ridicule
puerile vanity and outrageous ambition. In short, I should then have
studied more to please than to instruct, by addressing myself seldomer to
the reason than to the passions.
I subscribe, nevertheless, to your observation, "that the late long war
and short peace, with the enslaved state of the Press on the Continent,
would occasion a chasm in the most interesting period of modern history,
did not independent and jud | 2,071.155935 |
2023-11-16 18:51:35.3561500 | 2,864 | 387 |
Produced by Maria Cecilia Lim and PG Distributed Proofreaders
[Illustration: A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells
abou--Frontispiece]
RILEY
CHILD-RHYMES
James Whitcomb Riley
WITH HOOSIER PICTURES BY
Will Vawter
Copyright 1890, 1896, 1898 and 1905
WITH HALE AFFECTION AND ABIDING FAITH
THESE RHYMES AND PICTURES
ARE INSCRIBED
TO THE CHILDREN EVERYWHERE
_He owns the bird-songs of the hills--
The laughter of the April rills;
And his are all the diamonds set
In Morning's dewy coronet,--
And his the Dusk's first minted stars
That twinkle through the pasture-bars
And litter all the skies at night
With glittering scraps of silver light;--
The rainbow's bar, from rim to rim,
In beaten gold, belongs to him._
CONTENTS
[Note from the transcriber: The Table of Contents below was taken from
the book and is an alphabetical list of the poems. A second Table of
Contents, listing the poems in the order they occur in this book, has
been provided by the transcriber.]
AT AUNTY'S HOUSE
BEAR STORY, THE
BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM, THE
BOYS' CANDIDATE, THE
BUMBLEBEE, THE
CIRCUS-DAY PARADE, THE
CURLY LOCKS
DAYS GONE BY, THE
DOWN AROUND THE RIVER
ENVOY
FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW, THE
GRANDFATHER SQUEERS
HAPPY LITTLE <DW36>, THE
HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE, A
IMPETUOUS RESOLVE, AN
JOLLY MILLER, THE
LIFE-LESSON, A
LITTLE COAT, THE
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE
LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG, THE
NAUGHTY CLAUDE
NINE LITTLE GOBLINS, THE
OLD AUNT MARY'S
OLD HAY-MOW, THE
OLD TRAMP, THE
ON THE SUNNY SIDE
OUR HIRED GIRL
PET <DW53>, THE
PIXY PEOPLE, THE
RAGGEDY MAN, THE
RIDER OF THE KNEE, THE
RUNAWAY BOY, THE
SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN, THE
SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME, THE
SUDDEN SHOWER, A
TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS
WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE
WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ
WINTER FANCIES
Contents (Listed in the Order They Appear)
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE
THE RAGGEDY MAN
CURLY LOCKS
THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW
THE HAPPY LITTLE <DW36>
THE RIDER OF THE KNEE
DOWN AROUND THE RIVER
AT AUNTY'S HOUSE
THE DAYS GONE BY
THE BUMBLEBEE
THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM
THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME
THE OLD TRAMP
OLD AUNT MARY'S
WINTER FANCIES
THE RUNAWAY BOY
THE LITTLE COAT
AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE
WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ
THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS
TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS
THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE
THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG
WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE
NAUGHTY CLAUDE
THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN
THE JOLLY MILLER
OUR HIRED GIRL
THE BOYS' CANDIDATE
THE PET <DW53>
THE OLD HAY-MOW
ON THE SUNNY SIDE
A SUDDEN SHOWER
GRANDFATHER SQUEERS
THE PIXY PEOPLE
A LIFE-LESSON
A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE
THE BEAR STORY
ENVOY
ILLUSTRATIONS
WITCH-TALES
THEY WAS TWO GREAT BIG BLACK THINGS A-STANDIN' BY HER SIDE
AN' WHEN THEY TURN'T THE KIVVERS DOWN
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE--TAILPIECE
THE RAGGEDY MAN--TITLE
HE SHOWED ME THE HOLE 'AT THE WUNKS IS GOT
CURLY LOCKS--TITLE
SIT ON A CUSHION AND SEW A FINE SEAM
THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW--TITLE
NEVER KNEW A BABY THAT WOULDN'T CROW FOR HIM
THE HAPPY LITTLE <DW36>--TITLE
AN' I PECK ON THE WINDER
AN' COOKS A' EGG FER ME
THE HAPPY LITTLE <DW36>--TAILPIECE
THE RIDER OF THE KNEE
DOWN AROUND THE RIVER--TITLE
NOON-TIME AND JUNE-TIME DOWN AROUND THE RIVER
DOWN AROUND THE RIVER--TAILPIECE
AT AUNTY'S HOUSE--TITLE
WE ET OUT ON THE PORCH
THE DAYS GONE BY--TITLE
IN THE ORCHARD
THE BUMBLEBEE
THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM--TITLE
STAND UP LIKE HIM AN' DRIVE
THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME--TITLE
THE SQUIRTGUN--TAILPIECE
AN' NEN HE PEELED OFF THE BARK
THE OLD TRAMP
WE PATTER ALONG IN THE DUST AGAIN
OLD AUNT MARY'S--TAILPIECE
WINTER FANCIES--TITLE
WINTER WITHOUT AND WARMTH WITHIN
HERE IN MY ROOM I'M AS SNUGLY SHUT
AN' A GREA'-BIG PIG WENT "BOOH!"
HUG WITE CLOSE ROUND HER NECK
THE LITTLE COAT
THE LITTLE COAT--TAILPIECE
AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE--TITLE
I'M GO' TO BE A BAKER
A-SLINGIN' PIE-CRUST 'LONG THE ROAD
WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ--TITLE
AN' QUAR'L WITH HIS FROSTED HEELS
WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ--TAILPIECE
THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS
THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS--TAILPIECE
TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS--TITLE
WHERE THE SHELLBARK HICKORY TREE
THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE
HOW THE CAGES JOLTED PAST
AND, LAST OF ALL, THE CLOWN
THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG--TITLE
WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE--TITLE
BAREFOOTED, HUNGRY, LEAN, ORNRY BOYS
WHY YOU ROCK SO SLOW?
NAUGHTY CLAUDE
THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN--TITLE
THIS PAIR OF MERRY FAYS
THE JOLLY MILLER--TITLE
THAT CAT O' YOURN I'D KILL HER
WUZ PARCHIN' CORN FER THE RAGGEDY MAN
THE BOYS' CANDIDATE
THE PET <DW53>--TITLE
AN' NEN WHEN BILLY FIGHTED ME
THE OLD HAY-MOW--TITLE
IN OUR HAY-MOW WHERE I KEEP STORE
ON THE SUNNY SIDE--TITLE
AS A ROMPING BOY
A SUDDEN SHOWER--TITLE
SCHOOLGIRL FACES... GLEAM FROM THE SHAWLS ABOUT THEIR HEADS
A SUDDEN SHOWER--TAILPIECE
GRANDFATHER SQUEERS--TITLE
AND SMOKE LEAF-TOBACCO
GRANDFATHER SQUEERS--TAILPIECE
THE PIXY PEOPLE--TITLE
WINGED ABOVE THE WALK
A LIFE-LESSON--TITLE
BUT HEAVEN HOLDS ALL FOR WHICH YOU SIGH
A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE--TITLE
A LITTLE DUDE-FAIRY
ENVOY
RILEY CHILD-RHYMES
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE
[Illustration: They was two great big black things a-standin' by her side]
Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
[Illustration: An' when they turn't the kivvers down]
An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever'one, an' all her blood an' kin;
An' onc't, when they was "company," an' ole folks was there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes _woo-oo!_
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
[Illustration: Little Orphant Annie--Tailpiece]
THE RAGGEDY MAN
[Illustration: The Raggedy Man--Title]
O The Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;
An' he opens the shed--an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
An' nen--ef our hired girl says he can--
He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann.--
Aint he a' awful good Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
W'y, The Raggedy Man--he's ist so good
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;
An' nen he spades in our garden, too,
An' does most things 'at _boys_ can't do!--
He clumbed clean up in our big tree
An' shooked a' apple down fer me--
An' nother'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann--
An' nother'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man.--
Aint he a' awful kind Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
[Illustration: He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got]
An' The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes:
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves,
An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers therselves!
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot,
He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got,
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can
Turn into me, er | 2,071.37619 |
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Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: FORWARD HE HURLED HIMSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE AIR.]
FOR THE HONOR OF
RANDALL
A Story of College Athletics
BY
LESTER CHADWICK
AUTHOR OF "THE RIVAL PITCHERS," "A QUARTER-BACK'S
PLUCK," "BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
=BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK=
=THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES=
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
THE RIVAL PITCHERS
A Story of College Baseball
A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK
A Story of College Football
BATTING TO WIN
A Story of College Baseball
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
A Story of College Football
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL
A Story of College Athletics
=THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES=
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
Or The Rivals of Riverside
BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
Or Pitching for the Blue Banner
(Other volumes in preparation)
_Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_
Copyright, 1912, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A PERILOUS RIDE 1
II BAD NEWS FROM HOME 15
III WHEN SPRING COMES 27
IV THE NEW FELLOW 34
V IN "PITCHFORK'S" PLACE 42
VI THE NEW LEAGUE 51
VII THROUGH THE ICE 66
VIII TOM KEEPS SILENT 76
IX IN THE ICE BOAT 84
X A MISSING PICTURE 94
XI THE WAY OF A MAID 102
XII IN BITTER SPIRITS 112
XIII TOM SEES SOMETHING 118
XIV SHAMBLER'S VISITOR 128
XV TOM IS SUSPICIOUS 135
XVI FRANK'S SURPRISE 144
XVII THE AUCTION 153
XVIII TOM'S TEMPTATION 160
XIX THE TRY-OUTS 168
XX "WE NEED EVERY POINT" 176
XXI ON THE RIVER 183
XXII CURIOSITY 192
XXIII THE BIG HURDLE RACE 202
XXIV THE ACCUSATION 213
XXV A DISPUTED POINT 221
XXVI FRANK WITHDRAWS 229
XXVII "WHAT'S TO BE DONE?" 236
XXVIII A BOTTLE OF MEDICINE 245
XXIX AN ALARM IN THE NIGHT 255
XXX JUST A CHANCE 261
XXXI AT THE GAMES 272
XXXII AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 280
XXXIII TOM'S RUN 289
XXXIV SID'S GREAT JUMP 300
XXXV RANDALL'S HONOR CLEARED 306
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL
CHAPTER I
A PERILOUS RIDE
"What a glorious night!"
Tom Parsons, standing at the window of the study which he shared with
his chums, looked across the campus of Randall College.
"It's just perfect," he went on.
There was no answer from the three lads who, in various attitudes, took
their ease, making more or less of pretenses at studying.
"The moon," Tom went on, "the moon is full----"
"So are you--of words," blurted out Sid Henderson, as he leafed his
trigonometry.
"It's one of the finest nights----"
"Since nights were invented," broke in Phil Clinton, with a yawn. "Dry
up, Tom, and let us bone, will you?"
Unmoved by the scorn of his chums, the tall lad at the casement, gazing
out on the scene, which, to do him justice, had wonderfully moved him,
continued to stand there. Then, in a quiet voice, as though unconscious
of the presence of the others, he spoke:
"The moon o'er yonder hilltop rises, a silver disk, like unto a warrior's
shield, whereon he, from raging battle coming, is either carried upon it,
or bears it proudly as----"
"Oh for cats' sake!" fairly yelled Frank Simpson, the Big Californian,
as he had been dubbed. He shied his book full at Tom Parsons, catching
him in the back, and bringing to a close the blank verse our hero was
spouting, with a grunt that greatly marred it.
"Say, you fellows can't appreciate anything decent!" shot back the lad at
the window. "If I try to raise you above the level of the kindergarten
class you are in deep water. I suppose I should have said: 'Oh see the
moon. Does the moon see me? The moon sees me. What a pretty moon!' Bah!
You make me tired. Here we have the most glorious night of the winter,
with a full moon, snow on the ground to make it as light as day, a calm,
perfect night----"
"Oh perfect night!" mocked Sid.
"Vandal!" hissed Tom.
"Go on! Hear Hear! Bravo!" cried Phil. "Let the noble Senator proceed!"
"Oh, for the love of mustard!" broke in the big lad who had tossed his
book at Tom. "There's no use trying to do any work with this mob. I'm
going over to see Dutch Housenlager. He won't spout blank verse when I
want to bone, and that's some comfort."
"No, but he'll want to get you into some horse-play, like tying knots in
Proc. Zane's socks, or running the flag up at half mast on the chapel,"
declared Tom. "You had much better stay here, Frank. I've got something
to propose."
"There! I knew it!" cried Phil. "There's a girl in it somewhere, or Tom
would never be so poetical. Who is she, Tom? and when are you going to
propose?"
"Oh, you fellows are worse than the measles," groaned the lad who had
been looking at the moonlight. "I'm done with you. I leave you to your
fate."
With a grunt of annoyance Tom turned away from the window, kicked under
the sofa the book which Frank had thrown at him, and reached for his cap
and coat.
"Where you going?" asked Phil quickly, as he turned over in the deep
armchair, causing the ancient piece of furniture to emit many a groan,
and send out a choking cloud of dust. "Whither away, fair sir?"
"Anywhere, to get away from you fellows," grunted the displeased one.
"No, but seriously, where are you going?" asked Frank. "Now that you've
broken the ice, I don't mind admitting that I don't care such an awful
lot for boning."
Tom paused in the doorway, one arm in and the other out of his coat.
"I'm going out," he answered. "It's too nice to stay in. The coasting
must be great on Ridge Hill, and with this moon--say it's a shame to
stay in! That's what I've been trying to ding into you fellows, only you
wouldn't listen. Why, half of Randall must be out there to-night."
"What about Proc. Zane?" asked Sid, referring to the proctor, who kept
watch and ward over the college.
"Nothing doing," answered Tom. "A lot of the fellows went to Moses after
the last lecture and got permission to take their bobs over on the hill.
There were so many that the good old doctor said he'd raise the rules
for to-night, because it was likely to be such a fine one. So there's no
danger of being up on the carpet, if we get in at any decent hour."
"Why didn't you say so at first?" demanded Sid. "Of course we'll go. Why
didn't you mention it instead----"
"I thought you had some poetry in you," responded Tom. "I tried to make
you appreciate the beauty of the night rather than appeal to the sordid
side of your natures, and----"
"Cut it out!" begged Phil, with a laugh. "If there's any coasting, and I
guess there is, we'll be in it. Come on, fellows, and we'll see how our
bob does on the hill."
With laughter and gay talk, now that they had made up their minds to
adopt Tom's suggestion, and go coasting, the four chums, than whom there
was no more devoted quartette in Randall, passed out into the corridor.
As they descended the stairs they heard a subdued hum that told of other
students bent on the same errand, and, when they had a glimpse of the
snow-covered campus, they beheld many dark figures hurrying along,
dragging single sleds or big bobs after them.
"Say, I hope no one pinches ours!" cried Tom, and at the thought he
hastened his pace toward an out-building of the gymnasium, where the
students kept their bicycles in Summer, and their bobs in Winter.
It was now Winter at Randall, a glorious Winter, following a glorious
football season. For several years it had been the custom for the
students to indulge in coasting on a big hill about a mile away from the
college. Some of the lads clubbed together and had built fine, big bobs,
with foot rests, carpet on the top, with immense gongs to sound warning,
and with steering wheels that equalled those of autos, while some had
drag brakes, to use in case of emergency.
The bob owned jointly by Tom Parsons, Sid Henderson, Phil Clinton and
Frank Simpson, was one of the best in Randall. It was fifteen feet long,
and could carry quite a party. It needed no small skill and strength to
steer it, too, when fully loaded.
Our friends, getting out their sled, soon found themselves in the midst
of a throng of fellow students, all hurrying toward the hill. The four
chums had hold of the rope to haul the big bob.
"There are the Jersey twins," remarked Sid, as Jerry and Joe Jackson
hurried on, dragging a small bob.
"And here comes Dutch," added Phil. "He can ride with us, I guess."
"Sure," assented Tom. "I say, Dutch!" he called. "Got a sled?"
"No. Why should I when there are already plenty?" "Dutch," or otherwise
Billy Housenlager, demanded.
"That's right," spoke Frank. "Come on, give us a hand, and we'll give
you a ride."
"I am too tired," was the answer, "but I will let you have the honor of
pulling me," and, with a sigh of contentment Dutch threw himself down on
the big bob.
"Here! Get off, you horse!" cried Sid.
A loud snore was the answer. Sid started back to roll the lazy student
off, but Tom, with a wink, indicated a better way of disposing of him.
At a signal the four students broke into a run.
"Ah, this beats an auto," murmured Billy.
Suddenly the four swerved sharply, and the bob turned over, spilling
Dutch off, into a snow bank.
"Ten thousand double-dyed maledictions upon you!" he spluttered, as he
blew the snow out of his mouth. "Just for that I'll not ride with you.
Hold on, Jerry--Joe," he called to the Jersey twins, "wait for papa!"
There was a laugh at Dutch and his predicament, and then the crowd of
students hurried on, our heroes among them. In a little while they could
hear distant shouts, and the clanging of bells.
"Some crowd on the hill," observed Tom. "I told you there'd be sport."
"Right you are, my hearty," agreed Phil. "Whew! I should say there was a
mob!" for by this time they had come out on top of the long <DW72> that
led down the country road, forming the coasting place, known as Ridge
Hill.
While most of the crowd consisted of students from Randall College,
there were not a few lads and girls from the neighboring town of
Haddonfield, and the shrill voices of the lassies and the hoarser shouts
of the boys, mingled musically that moonlit night. The clang of bells
on the bobs was constant.
"Come on now, get ready!" called Tom. "Let's take a crowd down."
"Who's going to steer?" asked Phil.
"Let Frank," advised Sid. "He's got the most muscle, and he needs
exercise."
"I like your nerve," retorted the Big Californian. But he took his place
at the steering wheel, while Tom got on the rear to work the brake, and
Sid acted as bell-ringer.
"Get aboard!" invited Tom, and several of his friends among the students
piled on.
"May we have a ride?" asked three pretty girls from the town. None of
our friends knew them, but it was a common custom to give all a ride for
whom there was room, introductions being dispensed with.
"Pile on!" invited Tom.
"I want the one with the red scarf!" sang out Frank, and this girl, with
a laugh that showed her even white teeth, took her place behind the
steersman. Her companions joined her, with happy laughs. The bob was
almost full.
"Room for any more?" asked a voice, and Tom looked up to see a young man
and lady looking at him.
"Oh, hello, Mr. Beach!" he exclaimed, as he recognized a friend of his
who lived in town. "Of course there is. Get on Mrs. Beach, and we'll
give you a fine ride!" The young married couple had often entertained
our four friends at their home, and, as Mr. and Mrs. Beach were fond of
fun, they had come out to enjoy the coasting.
"All right!" cried Sid, clanging the bell.
"Push us off; will you?" Tom requested of a merry coaster, and the lad
with some others obligingly shoved the bob to the edge of the hill. Then
they were off, going down like the wind, while the runners scraped the
frozen snow sending it aloft in a shower of crystals that the moon
turned into silver.
"Oh, this is glorious!" cried the girl back of Frank. "Say, did you ever
try to go through the hollow, and up the other hill?"
"No, and I'm not going to," replied Frank, turning his head toward her
for an instant, and then getting his eyes on the road again, for there
were many sleds and bobs, and it needed all his skill to wind in and out
among them.
"Why not?" persisted the girl, with a laugh.
"Too dangerous, with a big sled. We never could make the curve at this
speed."
"Some of the town boys do it," she went on.
"Not with a bob like this. Look out there!" Frank yelled as he narrowly
missed running into a solitary coaster.
The path to which the girl referred was a sort of lane, running off the
main hill road, dipping down, and then suddenly shooting up again,
crossing over a slight rise, and finally going down to a small pond. It
was a semi-public road, but seldom used. To attempt to negotiate it with
a swift bob was perilous, for the least mistake in steering, or a slight
accident would send the sled off to one side or the other of the small
hill, making an upset almost certain, and, likely broken bones, if
nothing worse.
"There goes one boy, now," went on the girl back of Frank, as a coaster
shot into the hollow.
"Yes, but he only has a small sled. I'll not try it. If you girls want
to----"
"Oh, no indeed!" she hastened to assure him. "This is too much fun. It's
good of you to ask us."
The coast soon came to an end, and then came the hard work of dragging
the sled up the hill again.
"I wish they had double acting hills," remarked Tom as he pulled on the
rope. "Slide down 'em one way, and, when you get to the bottom they'd
tip up, and you could slide back--sort of perpetual motion."
"You don't want much," commented Sid with a laugh.
As the boys reached the top of the <DW72> there dashed up a sled filled
with young people, drawn by two prancing horses. And fastened to the
rear of the sled, was a large bob.
"Now for some fun!" cried a girl's voice.
"Did you hear that?" asked Tom, of Phil. "It sounded like your sister
Ruth."
"It is Ruth!" cried Phil, as he caught sight of the girl who had called
out. "It's a crowd from Fairview," he added, naming a co-educational
institution not far from Randall, at which college Ruth Clinton attended.
"Hi, Ruth!" called her | 2,071.499258 |
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Produced by Annie R. McGuire
[Illustration: HARPER'S ROUND TABLE]
Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All Rights Reserved.
* * * * *
PUBLISHED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, TUESDAY, JANUARY 21, 1896. FIVE CENTS A
COPY.
VOL. XVII.--NO. 847. TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
THE WRECK OF THE "MARIA HELENA."
BY REAR-ADMIRAL T. H. STEVENS, U.S.N.
On the 20th of December, 184 | 2,071.657933 |
2023-11-16 18:51:35.7344320 | 617 | 9 |
Produced by Charles Aldarondo
ON PICKET DUTY, AND OTHER TALES
By L. M. Alcott
Boston:
NEW YORK:
1864
ON PICKET DUTY.
_WHAT_ air you thinkin' of, Phil?
"My wife, Dick."
"So was I! Aint it odd how fellers fall to thinkin' of thar little
women, when they get a quiet spell like this?"
"Fortunate for us that we do get it, and have such gentle bosom
guests to keep us brave and honest through the trials and
temptations of a life like ours."
October moonlight shone clearly on the solitary tree, draped with
gray moss, scarred by lightning and warped by wind, looking like a
venerable warrior, whose long campaign was nearly done; and
underneath was posted the guard of four. Behind them twinkled many
camp-fires on a distant plain, before them wound a road ploughed by
the passage of an army, strewn with the relics of a rout. On the
right, a sluggish river glided, like a serpent, stealthy, sinuous,
and dark, into a seemingly impervious jungle; on the left, a
Southern swamp filled the air with malarial damps, swarms of noisome
life, and discordant sounds that robbed the hour of its repose. The
men were friends as well as comrades, for though gathered from the
four quarters of the Union, and dissimilar in education, character,
and tastes, the same spirit animated all; the routine of camp life
threw them much together, and mutual esteem soon grew into a bond of
mutual good fellowship.
Thorn was a Massachusetts volunteer; a man who seemed too early old,
too early embittered by some cross, for though grim of countenance,
rough of speech, cold of manner, a keen observer would have soon
discovered traces of a deeper, warmer nature hidden, behind the
repellent front he turned upon the world. A true New Englander,
thoughtful, acute, reticent, and opinionated; yet earnest withal,
intensely patriotic, and often humorous, despite a touch of Puritan
austerity.
Phil, the "romantic chap," as he was called, looked his character to
the life. Slender, swarthy, melancholy eyed, and darkly bearded;
with feminine features, mellow voice and, alternately languid or
vivacious manners. A child of the South in nature as in aspect,
ardent, impressible, and proud; fitfully aspiring and despairing;
without the native energy which moulds character and ennobles life.
Months of discipline and devotion had done much for him, and some
deep experience was fast ripening the youth into a man.
Flint, the long-limbed lumberman, from the wilds of Maine | 2,071.754472 |
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Produced by Emmanuel Ackerman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
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A QUEEN OF TEARS
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
THE LOVE OF
AN UNCROWNED QUEEN:
SOPHIE DOROTHEA, CONSORT OF GEORGE I.,
AND HER CORRESPONDENCE WITH PHILIP
CHRISTOPHER, COUNT KONIGSMARCK.
NEW AND REVISED EDITION.
_With 24 Portraits and Illustrations._
_8vo., 12s. 6d. net._
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.,
LONDON, NEW YORK AND BOMBAY.
[Illustration:
_Queen Matilda in the uniform of Colonel of the Holstein Regiment of
Guards._
_After the painting by Als, 1770._]
A QUEEN OF TEARS
CAROLINE MATILDA, QUEEN OF
DENMARK AND NORWAY AND
PRINCESS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND
BY
W. H. WILKINS
_M.A._, _F.S.A._
_Author of "The Love of an Uncrowned Queen," and
"Caroline the Illustrious, Queen Consort of George II."_
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1904
CONTENTS
PAGE
CONTENTS v
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS vii
CHAPTER I.
THE TURN OF THE TIDE 1
CHAPTER II.
THE GATHERING STORM 23
CHAPTER III.
THE MASKED BALL 45
CHAPTER IV.
THE PALACE REVOLUTION 63
CHAPTER V.
THE TRIUMPH OF THE QUEEN-DOWAGER 88
CHAPTER VI.
"A DAUGHTER OF ENGLAND" 110
CHAPTER VII.
THE IMPRISONED QUEEN 129
CHAPTER VIII.
THE DIVORCE OF THE QUEEN 149
CHAPTER IX.
THE TRIALS OF STRUENSEE AND BRANDT 177
CHAPTER X.
THE EXECUTIONS 196
CHAPTER XI.
THE RELEASE OF THE QUEEN 216
CHAPTER XII.
REFUGE AT CELLE 239
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RESTORATION PLOT 268
CHAPTER XIV.
THE DEATH OF THE QUEEN 295
CHAPTER XV.
RETRIBUTION 315
APPENDIX.
LIST OF AUTHORITIES 327
INDEX 331
CATALOG
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
QUEEN MATILDA IN THE UNIFORM OF COLONEL OF THE
HOLSTEIN REGIMENT OF GUARDS. (_Photogravure._)
_From a Painting by Als, 1770_ _Frontispiece_
THE ROSENBORG CASTLE, COPENHAGEN _Facing page_ 6
STRUENSEE. _From the Painting by Jens Juel, 1771, now
in the possession of Count Bille-Brahe_ " " 20
ENEVOLD BRANDT. _From a Miniature at Frederiksborg_ " " 38
QUEEN JULIANA MARIA, STEP-MOTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.
_From the Painting by Clemens_ " " 54
KING CHRISTIAN VII.'S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING
HER OF HER ARREST " " 74
THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED
AT KRONBORG _Page_ 85
COUNT BERNSTORFF _Facing page_ 96
FREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARK, STEP-BROTHER
OF CHRISTIAN VII. " " 108
THE COURTYARD OF THE CASTLE AT KRONBORG. _From
an Engraving_ " " 130
RÖSKILDE CATHEDRAL, WHERE THE KINGS AND QUEENS
OF DENMARK ARE BURIED " " 150
THE GREAT COURT OF FREDERIKSBORG PALACE. _From
a Painting by Heinrich Hansen_ " " 172
THE DOCKS, COPENHAGEN, _TEMP. 1770_ " " 184
THE MARKET PLACE AND TOWN HALL, COPENHAGEN,
_TEMP. 1770_ " " 184
STRUENSEE IN HIS DUNGEON. _From a Contemporary Print_ " " 198
SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.C.B " " 218
A VIEW OF ELSINORE, SHOWING THE CASTLE OF KRONBORG.
_From the Drawing by C. F. Christensen_ " " 234
THE CASTLE OF CELLE: THE APARTMENTS OF QUEEN
MATILDA WERE IN THE TOWER " " 246
QUEEN MATILDA. _From the Painting formerly at Celle_ " " 256
AUGUSTA, PRINCESS OF GREAT BRITAIN AND DUCHESS
OF BRUNSWICK, SISTER OF QUEEN MATILDA. _From
the Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds_ " " 266
LOUISE AUGUSTA, PRINCESS OF DENMARK AND DUCHESS
OF AUGUSTENBURG, DAUGHTER OF QUEEN MATILDA " " 284
THE CHURCH AT CELLE, WHERE QUEEN MATILDA IS
BURIED. _From a Photograph_ " " 300
THE MEMORIAL ERECTED TO QUEEN MATILDA IN THE
FRENCH GARDEN OF CELLE " " 312
FREDERICK, CROWN PRINCE OF DENMARK (AFTERWARDS
KING FREDERICK VI.), SON OF QUEEN MATILDA " " 324
CHAPTER I.
THE TURN OF THE TIDE.
1771.
Struensee had now reached the highest pinnacle of power, but no
sooner did he gain it than the whole edifice, which he had reared
with consummate care, began to tremble and to rock; it threatened
to collapse into ruins and involve in destruction not only the man
who built it, but those who had aided him in the task. The winter of
1770-1771 had been a very severe one in Denmark, and the harvest of
the summer that followed was very bad. In the country there was great
distress, and in Copenhagen trade languished, largely in consequence
of the new order of things at court, which had caused so many of the
nobles to shut up their town houses and retire to their estates. The
clergy did not hesitate to say that the bad harvest and the stagnation
of trade were judgments of heaven upon the wickedness in high places.
The nobles declared that until the kingdom were rid of Struensee and
his minions, things would inevitably go from bad to worse. In every
class there was discontent; the people were sullen and ripe for revolt;
the navy was disaffected, and the army was on the verge of mutiny.
All around were heard mutterings of a coming storm. But Struensee,
intoxicated by success, would not heed, and so long as he was sure of
himself no one dared to dispossess him.
The rats were already leaving the sinking ship. Rantzau was the first
to break away; he had never forgiven either Struensee or the Queen for
having so inadequately (as he considered) rewarded his services. He had
expected a more prominent post in the Government, and failing this had
demanded that his debts, which were very heavy, should be paid. But to
his amazement and anger, Struensee had refused. Rantzau was jealous of
the Privy Cabinet Minister for having arrogated to himself all power
and all authority. He could not forget that this upstart favourite,
this ex-doctor, had been | 2,071.85453 |
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IN GOOD COMPANY
IN GOOD COMPANY
SOME PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF
SWINBURNE, LORD ROBERTS
WATTS-DUNTON, OSCAR WILDE
EDWARD WHYMPER, S. J. STONE
STEPHEN PHILLIPS
BY COULSON KERNAHAN
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXV | 2,071.954254 |
2023-11-16 18:51:36.0343110 | 6,487 | 17 |
Produced by Colin Bell, Keith Edkins and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they
are listed at the end of the text.
* * * * *
In this version [=e] signifies "e macron"; [)e] "e breve"; [.e] "e with dot
above"; [:a] "a with diaeresis"; ['e] "e with acute"; [`e] "with grave";
(the last 2 are not shown in the tabular "French or Metric System" section)
[^e] "with circumflex"; and so forth.
CHAMBERS'S
TWENTIETH CENTURY DICTIONARY
OF THE
ENGLISH LANGUAGE
PRONOUNCING, EXPLANATORY, ETYMOLOGICAL, WITH COMPOUND PHRASES,
TECHNICAL TERMS IN USE IN THE ARTS AND SCIENCES,
COLLOQUIALISMS, FULL APPENDICES, AND
COPIOUSLY ILLUSTRATED
EDITED BY
REV. THOMAS DAVIDSON
ASSISTANT-EDITOR OF 'CHAMBERS'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA'
EDITOR OF 'CHAMBERS'S ENGLISH DICTIONARY'
LONDON: 47 Paternoster Row
W. & R. CHAMBERS, LIMITED
EDINBURGH: 339 High Street
1908
EXPLANATIONS TO THE STUDENT.
THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE WORDS.--Every word is given in its _alphabetical_
order, except in cases where, to save space, derivatives are given after
and under the words from which they are derived. Each uncompounded verb has
its participles, when irregular, placed after it. Exceptional plurals are
also given. When a word stands after another, with no meaning given, its
meanings can be at once formed from those of the latter, by adding the
signification of the affix: thus the meanings of _Darkness_ are obtained by
prefixing the meaning of _ness_, _state of being_, to those of _Dark_.
Many words from French and other tongues, current in English usage, but not
yet fairly Anglicised, are inserted in the list of Foreign Phrases, &c., at
the end, rather than in the body of the Dictionary.
THE PRONUNCIATION.--The Pronunciation is given immediately after each word,
by the word being spelled anew. In this new spelling, every consonant used
has its ordinary unvarying sound, _no consonant being employed that has
more than one sound_. The same sounds are always represented by the same
letters, no matter how varied their actual spelling in the language. No
consonant used has any mark attached to it, with the one exception of _th_,
which is printed in common letters when sounded as in _thick_, but in
italics when sounded as in _th_en. _Unmarked vowels_ have always their
short sounds, as in _lad_, _led_, _lid_, _lot_, _but_, _book_. The _marked
vowels_ are shown in the following line, which is printed at the top of
each page:--
f[=a]te, f[:a]r; m[=e], h[.e]r; m[=i]ne; m[=o]te; m[=u]te; m[=oo]n; _th_en.
The vowel _u_ when marked thus, _[:u]_, has the sound heard in Scotch
_bluid_, _gude_, the French _du_, almost that of the German _[:u]_ in
_M[:u]ller_. Where more than one pronunciation of a word is given, that
which is placed first is more accepted.
THE SPELLING.--When more than one form of a word is given, that which is
placed first is the spelling in current English use. Unfortunately our
modern spelling does not represent the English we actually speak, but
rather the language of the 16th century, up to which period, generally
speaking, English spelling was mainly phonetic, like the present German.
The fundamental principle of all rational spelling is no doubt the
representation of every sound by an invariable symbol, but in modern
English the usage of pronunciation has drifted far from the conventional
forms established by a traditional orthography, with the result that the
present spelling of our written speech is to a large extent a mere exercise
of memory, full of confusing anomalies and imperfections, and involving an
enormous and unnecessary strain on the faculties of learners. Spelling
reform is indeed an imperative necessity, but it must proceed with a wise
moderation, for, in the words of Mr Sweet, 'nothing can be done without
unanimity, and until the majority of the community are convinced of the
superiority of some one system unanimity is impossible.' The true path of
progress should follow such wisely moderate counsels as those of Dr J. A.
H. Murray:--the dropping of the final or inflexional silent _e_; the
restoration of the historical _-t_ after breath consonants; uniformity in
the employment of double consonants, as in _traveler_, &c.; the discarding
of _ue_ in words like _demagogue_ and _catalogue_; the uniform levelling of
the agent _-our_ into _-or_; the making of _ea = [)e]_ short into _e_ and
the long _ie_ into _ee_; the restoration of _some_, _come_, _tongue_, to
their old English forms, _sum_, _cum_, _tung_; a more extended use of _z_
in the body of words, as _chozen_, _praize_, _raize_; and the correction of
the worst individual monstrosities, as _foreign_, _scent_, _scythe_,
_ache_, _debt_, _people_, _parliament_, _court_, _would_, _sceptic_,
_phthisis_, _queue_, _schedule_, _twopence-halfpenny_, _yeoman_, _sieve_,
_gauge_, _barque_, _buoy_, _yacht_, &c.
Already in America a moderate degree of spelling reform may be said to be
established in good usage, by the adoption of _-or_ for _-our_, as _color_,
_labor_, &c.; of _-er_ for _-re_, as _center_, _meter_, &c.; _-ize_ for
_-ise_, as _civilize_, &c.; the use of a uniform single consonant after an
unaccented vowel, as _traveler_ for _traveller_; the adoption of _e_ for
_oe_ or _ae_ in _hemorrhage_, _diarrhea_, &c.
THE MEANINGS.--The current and most important meaning of a word is usually
given first. But in cases like _Clerk_, _Livery_, _Marshal_, where the
force of the word can be made much clearer by tracing its history, the
original meaning is also given, and the successive variations of its usage
defined.
THE ETYMOLOGY.--The Etymology of each word is given after the meanings,
within brackets. Where further information regarding a word is given
elsewhere, it is so indicated by a reference. It must be noted under the
etymology that whenever a word is printed thus, BAN, BASE, the student is
referred to it; also that here the sign--is always to be read as meaning
'derived from.' Examples are generally given of words that are cognate or
correspond to the English words; but it must be remembered that they are
inserted merely for illustration. Such words are usually separated from the
rest by a semicolon. For instance, when an English word is traced to its
Anglo-Saxon form, and then a German word is given, no one should suppose
that our English word is derived from the German. German and Anglo-Saxon
are alike branches from a common Teutonic stem, and have seldom borrowed
from each other. Under each word the force of the prefix is usually given,
though not the affix. For fuller explanation in such cases the student is
referred to the list of Prefixes and Suffixes in the Appendix.
* * * * *
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THIS DICTIONARY.
_aor._ aorist.
_abbrev._ abbreviation.
_abl._ ablative.
_acc._ according.
_accus._ accusative.
_adj._ adjective.
_adv._ adverb.
_agri._ agriculture.
_alg._ algebra.
_anat._ anatomy.
_app._ apparently.
_arch._ archaic.
_archit._ architecture.
_arith._ arithmetic.
_astrol._ astrology.
_astron._ astronomy.
_attrib._ attributive.
_augm._ augmentative.
_B._ Bible.
_biol._ biology.
_book-k._ book-keeping.
_bot._ botany.
_c._ (_circa_) about.
_c._, _cent._ century.
_carp._ carpentry.
_cf._ compare.
_chem._ chemistry.
_cog._ cognate.
_coll._, _colloq._ colloquially.
_comp._ comparative.
_conch._ conchology.
_conj._ conjunction.
_conn._ connected.
_contr._ contracted.
_cook._ cookery.
_corr._ corruption.
_crystal._ crystallography.
_dat._ dative.
_demons._ demonstrative.
_der._ derivation.
_dial._ dialect, dialectal.
_Dict._ Dictionary.
_dim._ diminutive.
_dub._ doubtful.
_eccles._ ecclesiastical history.
_e.g._ for example.
_elect._ electricity.
_entom._ entomology.
_esp._ especially.
_ety._ etymology.
_fem._ feminine.
_fig._ figuratively.
_fol._ followed; following.
_fort._ fortification.
_freq._ frequentative.
_fut._ future.
_gen._ genitive.
_gener._ generally.
_geog._ geography.
_geol._ geology.
_geom._ geometry.
_ger._ gerundive.
_gram._ grammar.
_gun._ gunnery.
_her._ heraldry.
_hist._ history.
_hort._ horticulture.
_hum._ humorous.
_i.e._ that is.
_imit._ imitative.
_imper._ imperative.
_impers._ impersonal.
_indic._ indicative.
_infin._ infinitive.
_inten._ intensive.
_interj._ interjection.
_interrog._ interrogative.
_jew._ jewellery.
_lit._ literally.
_mach._ machinery.
_masc._ masculine.
_math._ mathematics.
_mech._ mechanics.
_med._ medicine.
_metaph._ metaphysics.
_mil._ military.
_Milt._ Milton.
_min._ mineralogy.
_mod._ modern.
_Mt._ Mount.
_mus._ music.
_myth._ mythology.
_n._, _ns._ noun, nouns.
_nat. hist._ natural history.
_naut._ nautical.
_neg._ negative.
_neut._ neuter.
_n.pl._ noun plural.
_n.sing._ noun singular.
_N.T._ New Testament.
_obs._ obsolete.
_opp._ opposed.
_opt._ optics.
_orig._ originally.
_ornith._ ornithology.
_O.S._ old style.
_O.T._ Old Testament.
_p._, _part._ participle.
_p.adj._ participial adjective.
_paint._ painting.
_paleog._ paleography.
_paleon._ paleontology.
_palm._ palmistry.
_pa.p._ past participle.
_pass._ passive.
_pa.t._ past tense.
_path._ pathology.
_perf._ perfect.
_perh._ perhaps.
_pers._ person.
_pfx._ prefix.
_phil._, _philos._ philosophy.
_philol._ philology.
_phon._ phonetics.
_phot._ photography.
_phrenol._ phrenology.
_phys._ physics.
_physiol._ physiology.
_pl._ plural.
_poet._ poetical.
_pol. econ._ political economy.
_poss._ possessive.
_Pr.Bk._ Book of Common
Prayer.
_pr.p._ present participle.
_prep._ preposition.
_pres._ present.
_print._ printing.
_priv._ privative.
_prob._ probably.
_Prof._ Professor.
_pron._ pronoun;
pronounced;
pronunciation.
_prop._ properly.
_pros._ prosody.
_prov._ provincial.
_q.v._ which see.
_R.C._ Roman Catholic.
_recip._ reciprocal.
_redup._ reduplication.
_refl._ reflexive.
_rel._ related; relative.
_rhet._ rhetoric.
_sculp._ sculpture.
_Shak._ Shakespeare.
_sig._ signifying.
_sing._ singular.
_spec._ specifically.
_Spens_. Spenser.
_subj._ subjunctive.
_suff._ suffix.
_superl._ superlative.
_surg._ surgery.
_term._ termination.
_teleg._ telegraphy.
_Tenn._ Tennyson.
_Test._ Testament.
_theat._ theatre; theatricals.
_theol._ theology.
_trig._ trigonometry.
_ult._ ultimately.
_v.i._ verb intransitive.
_voc._ vocative.
_v.t._ verb transitive.
_vul._ vulgar.
_zool._ zoology.
* * * * *
Amer. American.
Ar. Arabic.
A.S. Anglo-Saxon.
Austr. Australian.
Bav. Bavarian.
Beng. Bengali.
Bohem. Bohemian.
Braz. Brazilian.
Bret. Breton.
Carib. Caribbean.
Celt. Celtic.
Chal. Chaldean.
Chin. Chinese.
Corn. Cornish.
Dan. Danish.
Dut. Dutch.
Egypt. Egyptian.
Eng. English.
Finn. Finnish.
Flem. Flemish.
Fr. French.
Fris. Frisian.
Gael. Gaelic.
Ger. German.
Goth. Gothic.
Gr. Greek.
Heb. Hebrew.
Hind. Hindustani.
Hung. Hungarian.
Ice. Icelandic.
Ind. Indian.
Ion. Ionic.
Ir. Irish.
It. Italian.
<DW61>. Japanese.
Jav. Javanese.
L. Latin.
Lith. Lithuanian.
L. L. Low or Late Latin.
M. E. Middle English.
Mex. Mexican.
Norm. Norman.
Norw. Norwegian.
O. Fr. Old French.
Pers. Persian.
Peruv. Peruvian.
Pol. Polish.
Port. Portuguese.
Prov. Provencal.
Rom. Romance.
Russ. Russian
Sans. Sanskrit.
Scand. Scandinavian.
Scot. Scottish.
Singh. Singhalese.
Slav. Slavonic.
Sp. Spanish.
Sw. Swedish.
Teut. Teutonic.
Turk. Turkish.
U.S. United States.
W. Welsh.
* * * * *
CHAMBERS'S
TWENTIETH CENTURY
DICTIONARY.
* * * * *
S the nineteenth letter in our alphabet, its sound that of the hard open
sibilant: as a medieval Roman numeral--7--also 70; [=S]--70,000.--COLLAR OF
SS, a collar composed of a series of the letter _s_ in gold, either linked
together or set in close order.
SAB, sab, _n._ (_Scot._) a form of _sob_.
SABADILLA, sab-a-dil'a, _n._ a Mexican plant, whose seeds yield an
officinal alkaloid, _veratrine_, employed chiefly in acute febrile diseases
in strong healthy persons.--Also CEBADILL'A, CEVADILL'A.
SABAISM, s[=a]'b[=a]-izm. Same as SABIANISM.--Also S[=A]'BAEISM,
S[=A]'BEISM, S[=A]'BAEANISM.
SA'BAL, s[=a]'bal, _n._ a genus of fan-palms.
SABALO, sab'a-l[=o], _n._ the tarpon. [Sp.]
SABAOTH, sa-b[=a]'oth, _n.pl._ armies, used only in the B. phrase, 'the
Lord of Sabaoth': erroneously for Sabbath. [Heb. _tseb[=a][=o]th_, pl. of
_ts[=a]b[=a]_, an army--_ts[=a]b[=a]_, to go forth.]
SABBATH, sab'ath, _n._ among the Jews, the seventh day of the week, set
apart for the rest from work: among Christians, the first day of the week,
in memory of the resurrection of Christ, called also _Sunday_ and the
_Lord's Day:_ among the ancient Jews, the seventh year, when the land was
left fallow: a time of rest.--_adj_. pertaining to the Sabbath.--_n._
SABBAT[=A]'RIAN, a very strict observer of the Sabbath: one who observes
the seventh day of the week as the Sabbath.--_adj_. pertaining to the
Sabbath or to Sabbatarians.--_ns._ SABBAT[=A]'RIANISM; SABB'ATH-BREAK'ER,
one who profanes the Sabbath; SABB'ATH-BREAK'ING, profanation of the
Sabbath.--_adjs._ SABB'ATHLESS (_Bacon_), without Sabbath or interval of
rest: without intermission of labour; SABBAT'IC, -AL, pertaining to, or
resembling, the Sabbath: enjoying or bringing rest.--_n._ SABBAT'ICAL-YEAR,
every seventh year, in which the Israelites allowed their fields and
vineyards to lie fallow.--_adj._ SABB'ATINE, pertaining to the
Sabbath.--_v.i._ and _v.t._ SABB'ATISE, to keep the Sabbath: to convert
into a Sabbath.--_n._ SABB'ATISM, rest, as on the Sabbath: intermission of
labour.--SABBATH-DAY'S JOURNEY, the distance of 2000 cubits, or about five
furlongs, which a Jew was permitted to walk on the Sabbath, fixed by the
space between the extreme end of the camp and the ark (Josh. iii. 4);
SABBATH SCHOOL (see SUNDAY SCHOOL).--WITCHES' SABBATH, a midnight meeting
of Satan with witches, devils, and sorcerers for unhallowed orgies and the
travestying of divine rites. [L. _Sabbatum_, gener. in pl. _Sabbata_--Gr.
_Sabbaton_--Heb. _Shabb[=a]th_, rest.]
SABBATIA, sa-b[=a]'ti-a, _n._ a genus of small North American herbaceous
plants of the gentian family. [From _Sabbati_, an 18th-cent. Italian
botanist.]
SABBATON, sab'a-ton, _n._ a strong, armed covering for the foot, worn in
the 16th century. [_Sabot._]
SABEAN, s[=a]-b[=e]'an, _n._ an Arabian, native of Yemen.--_adj._
pertaining to _Saba_ in Arabia.
SABELINE, sab'e-lin, _adj._ pertaining to the sable.--_n._ the skin of the
sable.
SABELLA, s[=a]-bel'[:a], _n._ a genus of tubiculous annelids or
sea-worms.--_ns._ SABELL[=A]'RIA; SABELLAR[=I]'IDAE.
SABELLIAN, s[=a]-bel'i-an, _n._ a follower of _Sabellius_, a 3d-century
heretic, banished from Rome by Callistus.--_adj._ pertaining to Sabellius
or his heresy.--_n._ SABELL'IANISM, the heresy about the distinction of
Persons in God held by Sabellius and his school--the Trinity resolved into
a mere threefold manifestation of God to man, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit
not distinct subsistences, but merely one and the same person in different
aspects.
SABER=_Sabre_ (q.v.).
SABIAN, s[=a]'bi-an, _n._ a worshipper of the host of heaven--sun, moon,
and stars--also TS[=A]'BIAN.--_ns._ S[=A]'BIANISM, S[=A]'BAISM, the worship
of the host of heaven, an ancient religion in Persia and Chaldea: the
doctrines of the Sabians or Mandaeans (see MANDAEAN). [Heb. _ts[=a]b[=a]_,
a host.]
SABINE, s[=a]'b[=i]n, _n._ one of an ancient people of central Italy,
ultimately subjected by Rome, 241 B.C.
SABLE, s[=a]'bl, _n._ a Siberian species of Marten, with lustrous
dark-brown or blackish fur: its fur: a fine paint-brush made of sable: the
colour black: (_pl._) black clothes, mourning clothes.--_adj._ of the
colour of the sable's fur: blackish, dark-brown: made of the fur of the
sable.--_v.t._ to sadden.--_adjs._ S[=A]'BLE-STOLED; S[=A]'BLE-VEST'ED. [O.
Fr. _sable_--Russ. _sabol[)i]._]
SABLI[`E]RE, sab-li-[=a]r', _n._ a sand-pit. [Fr.]
[Illustration]
SABOT, s[:a]-b[=o]', _n._ a wooden shoe, worn by the French peasantry: a
piece of soft metal attached to a projectile to take the groove of the
rifling.--_n._ SABOTIER', a wearer of wooden shoes: a Waldensian. [Fr.
_sabot_--Low L. _sabbatum_, a shoe.]
SABRE, s[=a]'b[.e]r, _n._ a heavy one-edged sword, slightly curved towards
the point, used by cavalry.--_v.t._ to wound or kill with a sabre.--_ns._
S[=A]'BRE-BILL, a South American bird: a curlew; S[=A]'BRE-FISH, the
hair-tail or silver eel.--_adj._ S[=A]'BRE-TOOTHED, having extremely long
upper canine teeth.--_n._ S[=A]'BRE-WING, a humming-bird. [Fr.
_sabre_--Ger. _s[:a]bel_, prob. from the Hung. _szablya_.]
SABRE-TACHE, s[=a]'b[.e]r-tash, _n._ an ornamental leather case worn by
cavalry officers at the left side, suspended from the sword-belt.--Also
S[=A]'BRE-TASH. [Fr. _sabre-tache_--Ger. _s[:a]beltasche_, _s[:a]bel_, a
sabre, Ger. _tasche_, a pocket.]
SABRINA-WORK, sa-br[=i]'na-wurk, _n._ a variety of appliqu['e]
embroidery-work.
SABULOUS, sab'[=u]-lus, _adj._ sandy, gritty.--_n._ SABULOS'ITY, sandiness,
grittiness. [L. _sabulum_, sand.]
SABURRA, s[=a]-bur'[:a], _n._ a foulness of the stomach.--_adj._
SABURR'AL.--_n._ SABURR[=A]'TION, sand-baking: the application of a hot
sand-bath.
SAC, sak, _n._ (_bot._, _zool._) a sack or bag for a liquid.--_adjs._
SAC'C[=A]TE, -D, pouched: pouch-like; SAC'CULAR, like a sac, sacciform;
SAC'CULATE, -D, formed in a series of sac-like expansions: encysted.--_ns._
SACCUL[=A]'TION, the formation of a sac: a series of sacs; SAC'CULE,
SAC'CULUS, a small sac:--_pl._ SAC'CULI. [Fr.,--L. _saccus_, a bag.]
SAC, sak, _n._ (_law_) the privilege of a lord of manor of holding courts.
[A.S. _sacu_, strife.]
SACCADE, sa-k[=a]d', _n._ a violent twitch of a horse by one pull: a firm
pressure of the bow on the violin-strings so that two are sounded at once.
[Fr.]
SACCATA, sa-k[=a]'t[:a], _n._ the molluscs as a branch of the animal
kingdom.
SACCHARILLA, sak-a-ril'a, _n._ a kind of muslin.
SACCHARINE, sak'a-rin, _adj._ pertaining to, or having the qualities of,
sugar.--_n._ SAC'CHAR[=A]TE, a salt of a saccharic acid.--_adjs._
SACCHAR'IC, pertaining to, or obtained from, sugar and allied substances;
SACCHARIF'EROUS, producing sugar, as from starch.--_v.t._ SAC'CHARIFY, to
convert into sugar.--_ns._ SACCHARIM'ETER, SACCHAROM'ETER, an instrument
for measuring the quantity of saccharine matter in a liquid;
SACCHARIM'ETRY, SACCHAROM'ETRY; SAC'CHARIN, a white crystalline solid
slightly soluble in cold water, odourless, but intensely sweet;
SACCHARIN'ITY.--_v.t._ SAC'CHARISE, to convert into sugar:--_pr.p._
sac'char[=i]sing; _pa.p._ sac'char[=i]sed.--_adjs._ SAC'CHAROID, -AL,
having a texture resembling sugar, esp. loaf-sugar.--_n._ SAC'CHAROSE, the
ordinary pure sugar of commerce.--_adj._ SAC'CHAROUS.--_n._ SAC'CHARUM, a
genus of grasses, including the sugar-cane. [Fr. _saccharin_--L.
_saccharum_, sugar.]
SACCHARITE, sak'a-r[=i]t, _n._ a fine granular variety of feldspar.
SACCHAROCOLLOID, sak-a-r[=o]-kol'oid, _n._ one of a large group of the
carbohydrates.
SACCHAROMYCES, sak-a-r[=o]-m[=i]'s[=e]z, _n._ a genus of the yeast fungi.
[Low L. _saccharum_, sugar, Gr. _myk[= | 2,072.054351 |
2023-11-16 18:51:36.1371480 | 9 | 78 |
Produced by Charlene Taylor, | 2,072.157188 |
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Produced by Meredith Bach, Asad Razzaki and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's note:
A few typographical and punctuation errors have been
corrected. A complete list follows the text.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been
retained as in the original.
Words italicized in the original are surrounded by
_underscores_.
Words with bold emphasis in the original are surrounded
by =equals signs=.
[Illustration: The Lion of Korea.]
CHILD-LIFE IN JAPAN
AND | 2,072.357794 |
2023-11-16 18:51:36.4341750 | 191 | 196 |
Credit
Transcribed from the 1888 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
CASSELL'S NATIONAL LIBRARY.
ESSAYS AND TALES
BY
JOSEPH ADDISON.
CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
_LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_.
1888.
Contents:
Introduction
Public Credit
Household Superstitions
Opera Lions
Women and Wives
The Italian Opera
Lampoons
True and False Humour
Sa Ga Yean Qua Rash Tow's Impressions of London
The Vision of Marraton
Six Papers on Wit
Friendship
Chevy-Chase (Two Papers)
A Dream of the Painters
Spare Time (Two Papers)
Censure
The English Language
The Vision of Mirza
Genius
Theodosius and Constantia
Good Nature
| 2,072.454215 |
2023-11-16 18:51:36.6342350 | 1,690 | 44 |
Produced by MWS, Wayne Hammond and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Illustration:
_Raeburn. pinx^t._ _Dean, sculp^t._
JOSEPH BLACK, M.D. F.R.S.E.
_London. Published by Henry Colburn & Richard Bentley. 1830._]
THE
HISTORY
OF
CHEMISTRY.
BY
THOMAS THOMSON, M.D. F.R.S.E.
PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1830.
C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.
PREFACE.
It may be proper, perhaps, to state here, in a very few words, the
objects which the author had in view in drawing up the following
History of Chemistry. Alchymy, or the art of making gold, with which
the science originated, furnishes too curious a portion of the
aberrations of the human intellect to be passed over in silence.
The writings of the alchymists are so voluminous and so mystical,
that it would have afforded materials for a very long work. But
I was prevented from extending this part of the subject to any
greater length than I have done, by considering the small quantity of
information which could have been gleaned from the reveries of these
fanatics or impostors; I thought it sufficient to give a general view
of the nature of their pursuits: but in order to put it in the power of
those who feel inclined to prosecute such investigations, I have given
a catalogue of the most eminent of the alchymists and a list of their
works, so far as I am acquainted with them. This catalogue might have
been greatly extended. Indeed it would have been possible to have added
several hundred names. But I think the works which I have quoted are
more than almost any reasonable man would think it worth his while to
peruse; and I can state, from experience, that the information gained
by such a perusal will very seldom repay the trouble.
* * * * *
The account of the chemical arts, with which the ancients were
acquainted, is necessarily imperfect; because all arts and trades were
held in so much contempt by them that they did not think it worth their
while to make themselves acquainted with the processes. My chief
guide has been Pliny, but many of his descriptions are unintelligible,
obviously from his ignorance of the arts which he attempts to describe.
Thus circumstanced, I thought it better to be short than to waste a
great deal of paper, as some have done, on hypothesis and conjecture.
* * * * *
The account of the Chemistry of the Arabians is almost entirely limited
to the works of Geber, which I consider to be the first book on
Chemistry that ever was published, and to constitute, in every point
of view, an exceedingly curious performance. I was much struck with
the vast number of facts with which he was acquainted, and which have
generally been supposed to have been discovered long after his time.
I have, therefore, been at some pains in endeavouring to convey a
notion of Geber’s opinions to the readers of this history; but am not
sure that I have succeeded. I have generally given his own words, as
literally as possible, and, wherever it would answer the purpose, have
employed the English translation of 1678.
Paracelsus gave origin to so great a revolution in medicine and the
sciences connected with it, that it would have been unpardonable not
to have attempted to lay his opinions and views before the reader;
but, after perusing several of his most important treatises, I found
it almost impossible to form accurate notions on the subject. I
have, therefore, endeavoured to make use of his own words as much
as possible, that the want of consistency and the mysticism of his
opinions may fall upon his own head. Should the reader find any
difficulty in understanding the philosophy of Paracelsus, he will be
in no worse a situation than every one has been who has attempted to
delineate the principles of this prince of quacks and impostors. Van
Helmont’s merits were of a much higher kind, and I have endeavoured to
do him justice; though his weaknesses are so visible that it requires
much candour and patience to discriminate accurately between his
excellencies and his foibles.
* * * * *
The history of Iatro-chemistry forms a branch of our subject scarcely
less extraordinary than Alchymy itself. It might have been extended
to a much greater length than I have done. The reason why I did not
enter into longer details was, that I thought the subject more
intimately connected with the history of medicine than of chemistry:
it undoubtedly contributed to the improvement of chemistry; not,
however, by the opinions or the physiology of the iatro-chemists, but
by inducing their contemporaries and successors to apply themselves to
the discovery of chemical medicines.
* * * * *
The History of Chemistry, after a theory of combustion had been
introduced by Beccher and Stahl, becomes much more important. It now
shook off the trammels of alchymy, and ventured to claim its station
among the physical sciences. I have found it necessary to treat of its
progress during the eighteenth century rather succinctly, but I hope
so as to be easily intelligible. This made it necessary to omit the
names of many meritorious individuals, who supplied a share of the
contributions which the science was continually receiving from all
quarters. I have confined myself to those who made the most prominent
figure as chemical discoverers. I had no other choice but to follow
this plan, unless I had doubled the size of this little work, which
would have rendered it less agreeable and less valuable to the general
reader.
* * * * *
With respect to the History of Chemistry during that portion of the
nineteenth century which is already past, it was beset with several
difficulties. Many of the individuals, of whose labours I had occasion
to speak, are still actively engaged in the prosecution of their
useful works. Others have but just left the arena, and their friends
and relations still remain to appreciate their merits. In treating of
this branch of the science (by far the most important of all) I have
followed the same plan as in the history of the preceding century. I
have found it necessary to omit many names that would undoubtedly have
found a place in a larger work, but which the limited extent to which I
was obliged to confine myself, necessarily compelled me to pass over. I
have been anxious not to injure the character of any one, while I have
rigidly adhered to truth, so far as I was acquainted with it. Should I
have been so unfortunate as to hurt the feelings of any individual by
any remarks of mine in the following pages, it will give me great pain;
and the only alleviation will be the consciousness of the total absence
on my part of any malignant intention. To gratify the wishes of every
individual may, perhaps, be impossible; but I can say, with truth,
that my uniform object has been to do justice to the merits of all, so
far as my own limited knowledge put it in my power to do.
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
| 2,072.654275 |
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Produced by Mary Munarin and David Widger
A RESIDENCE IN FRANCE,
DURING THE YEARS
1792, 1793, 1794, AND 1795;
DESCRIBED IN A SERIES OF LETTERS
FROM AN ENGLISH LADY;
With General And Incidental Remarks
On The French Character And Manners.
Prepared for the Press
By John Gifford, Esq.
Author of the History of France, Letter to Lord
Lauderdale, Letter to the Hon. T. Erskine, &c.
Second Edition.
_Plus je vis l'Etranger plus j'aimai ma Patrie._
--Du Belloy.
London: Printed for T. N. Longman, Paternoster Row. 1797.
PRELIMINARY REMARKS BY THE EDITOR.
The following Letters were submitted to my inspection and judgement by
the Author, of whose principles and abilities I had reason to entertain a
very high opinion. How far my judgement has been exercised to advantage
in enforcing the propriety of introducing them to the public, that public
must decide. To me, I confess, it appeared, that a series of important
facts, tending to throw a strong light on the internal state of France,
during the most important period of the Revolution, could neither prove
uninteresting to the general reader, nor indifferent to the future
historian of that momentous epoch; and I conceived, that the opposite and
judicious reflections of a well-formed and well-cultivated mind,
naturally arising out of events within the immediate scope of its own
observation, could not in the smallest degree diminish the interest
which, in my apprehension, they are calculated to excite. My advice upon
this occasion was farther influenced by another consideration. Having
traced, with minute attention, the progress of the revolution, and the
conduct of its advocates, I had remarked the extreme affiduity employed
(as well by translations of the most violent productions of the Gallic
press, as by original compositions,) to introduce and propagate, in
foreign countries, those pernicious principles which have already sapped
the foundation of social order, destroyed the happiness of millions, and
spread desolation and ruin over the finest country in Europe. I had
particularly observed the incredible efforts exerted in England, and, I
am sorry to say, with too much success, for the base purpose of giving a
false colour to every action of the persons exercising the powers of
government in France; and I had marked, with indignation, the atrocious
attempt to strip vice of its deformity, to dress crime in the garb of
virtue, to decorate slavery with the symbols of freedom, and give to
folly the attributes of wisdom. I had seen, with extreme concern, men,
whom the lenity, mistaken lenity, I must call it, of our government had
rescued from punishment, if not from ruin, busily engaged in this
scandalous traffic, and, availing themselves of their extensive
connections to diffuse, by an infinite variety of channels, the poison of
democracy over their native land. In short, I had seen the British
press, the grand palladium of British liberty, devoted to the cause of
Gallic licentiousness, that mortal enemy of all freedom, and even the
pure stream of British criticism diverted from its natural course, and
polluted by the pestilential vapours of Gallic republicanism. I
therefore deemed it essential, by an exhibition of well-authenticated
facts, to correct, as far as might be, the evil effects of
misrepresentation and error, and to defend the empire of truth, which had
been assailed by a host of foes.
My opinion of the principles on which the present system of government in
France was founded, and the war to which those principles gave rise, have
been long since submitted to the public. Subsequent events, far from
invalidating, have strongly confirmed it. In all the public declarations
of the Directory, in their domestic polity, in their conduct to foreign
powers, I plainly trace the prevalence of the same principles, the same
contempt for the rights and happiness of the people, the same spirit of
aggression and aggrandizement, the same eagerness to overturn the
existing institutions of neighbouring states, and the same desire to
promote "the universal revolution of Europe," which marked the conduct of
BRISSOT, LE BRUN, DESMOULINS, ROBESPIERRE, and their disciples. Indeed,
what stronger instance need be adduced of the continued prevalence of
these principles, than the promotion to the supreme rank in the state, of
two men who took an active part in the most atrocious proceedings of the
Convention at the close of 1792, and at the commencement of the following
year?
In all the various constitutions which have been successively adopted
in that devoted country, the welfare of the people has been wholly
disregarded, and while they have been amused with the shadow of liberty,
they have been cruelly despoiled of the substance. Even on the
establishment of the present constitution, the one which bore the nearest
resemblance to a rational system, the freedom of election, which had been
frequently proclaimed as the very corner-stone of liberty, was shamefully
violated by the legislative body, who, in their eagerness to perpetuate
their own power, did not scruple to destroy the principle on which it was
founded. Nor is this the only violation of their own principles. A
French writer has aptly observed, that "En revolution comme en morale, ce
n'est que le premier pas qui coute:" thus the executive, in imitation of
the legislative body, seem disposed to render their power perpetual. For
though it be expressly declared by the 137th article of the 6th title of
their present constitutional code, that the "Directory shall be partially
renewed by the election of a new member every year," no step towards such
election has been taken, although the time prescribed by the law is
elapsed.--In a private letter from Paris now before me, written within
these few days, is the following observation on this very circumstance:
"The constitution has received another blow. The month of Vendemiaire is
past, and our Directors still remain the same. Hence we begin to drop
the appalation of Directory, and substitute that of the Cinqvir, who are
more to be dreaded for their power, and more to be detested for their
crimes, than the Decemvir of ancient Rome." The same letter also
contains a brief abstract of the state of the metropolis of the French
republic, which is wonderfully characteristic of the attention of the
government to the welfare and happiness of its inhabitants!
"The reign of misery and of crime seems to be perpetuated in this
distracted capital: suicides, pillage, and assassinations, are daily
committed, and are still suffered to pass unnoticed. But what renders
our situation still more deplorable, is the existence of an innumerable
band of spies, who infest all public places, and all private societies.
More than a hundred thousand of these men are registered on the books of
the modern SARTINE; and as the population of Paris, at most, does not
exceed six hundred thousand souls, we are sure to find in six individuals
one spy. This consideration makes me shudder, and, accordingly, all
confidence, and all the sweets of social intercourse, are banished from
among us. People salute each other, look at each other, betray mutual
suspicions, observe a profound silence, and part. This, in few words, is
an exact description of our modern republican parties. It is said, that
poverty has compelled many respectable persons, and even state-creditors,
to enlist under the standard of COCHON, (the Police Minister,) because
such is the honourable conduct of our sovereigns, that they pay their
spies in specie--and their soldiers, and the creditors of the state, in
paper.--Such is the morality, such the justice, such are the republican
virtues, so loudly vaunted by our good and dearest friends, our
pensioners--the Gazetteers of England and Germany!"
There is not a single abuse, which the modern reformers reprobated so
loudly under the ancient system, that is not magnified, in an infinite
degree, under the present establishment. For one Lettre de Cachet issued
during the mild reign of LOUIS the Sixteenth, a thousand Mandats d'Arret
have been granted by the tyrannical demagogues of the revolution; for one
Bastile which existed under the Monarchy, a thousand Maisons de Detention
have been established by the Republic. In short, crimes of every
denomination, and acts of tyranny and injustice, of every kind, have
multiplied, since the abolition of royalty, in a proportion which sets
all the powers of calculation at defiance.
It is scarcely possible to notice the present situation of France,
without adverting to the circumstances of the WAR, and to the attempt now
making, through the medium of negotiation, to bring it to a speedy
conclusion. Since the publication of my Letter to a Noble Earl, now
destined to chew the cud of disappointment in the vale of obscurity, I
have been astonished to hear the same assertions advance, by the members
and advocates of that party whose merit is said to consist in the
violence of their opposition to the measures of government, on the origin
of the war, which had experienced the most ample confutation, without the
assistance of any additional reason, and without the smallest attempt to
expose the invalidity of those proofs which, in my conception, amounted
nearly to mathematical demonstration, and which I had dared them, in
terms the most pointed, to invalidate. The question of aggression before
stood on such high ground, that I had not the presumption to suppose it
could derive an accession of strength from any arguments which I could
supply; but I was confident, that the authentic documents which I offered
to the public would remove every intervening object that tended to
obstruct the fight of inattentive observers, and reflect on it such an
additional light as would flash instant conviction on the minds of all.
It seems, I have been deceived; but I must be permitted to suggest, that
men who persist in the renewal of assertions, without a single effort to
controvert the proofs which have been adduced to demonstrate their
fallacy, cannot have for their object the establishment of truth--which
ought, exclusively, to influence the conduct of public characters,
whether writers or orators.
With regard to the negotiation, I can derive not the smallest hopes of
success from a contemplation of the past conduct, or of the present
principles, of the government of France. When I compare the projects of
aggrandizement openly avowed by the French rulers, previous to the
declaration of war against this country, with the exorbitant pretensions
advanced in the arrogant reply of the Executive Directory to the note
presented by the British Envoy at Basil in the month of February, 1796,
and with the more recent observations contained in their official note of
the 19th of September last, I cannot think it probable that they will
accede to any terms of peace that are compatible with the interest and
safety of the Allies. Their object is not so much the establishment as
the extension of their republic.
As to the danger to be incurred by a treaty of peace with the republic of
France, though it has been considerably diminished by the events of the
war, it is still unquestionably great. This danger principally arises
from a pertinacious adherence, on the part of the Directory, to those
very principles which were adopted by the original promoters of the
abolition of Monarchy in France. No greater proof of such adherence need
be required than their refusal to repeal those obnoxious decrees (passed
in the months of November and December, 1792,) which created so general
and so just an alarm throughout Europe, and which excited the reprobation
even of that party in England, which was willing to admit the equivocal
interpretation given to them by the Executive Council of the day. I
proved, in the Letter to a Noble Earl before alluded to, from the very
testimony of the members of that Council themselves, as exhibited in
their official instructions to one of their confidential agents, that the
interpretation which they had assigned to those decrees, in their
communications with the British Ministry, was a base interpretation, and
that they really intended to enforce the decrees, to the utmost extent of
their possible operation, and, by a literal construction thereof, to
encourage rebellion in every state, within the reach of their arms or
their principles. Nor have the present government merely forborne to
repeal those destructive laws--they have imitated the conduct of their
predecessors, have actually put them in execution wherever they had the
ability to do so, and have, in all respects, as far as related to those
decrees, adopted the precise spirit and principles of the faction which
declared war against England. Let any man read the instructions of the
Executive Council to PUBLICOLA CHAUSSARD, their Commissary in the
Netherlands, in 1792 and 1793, and an account of the proceedings in the
Low Countries consequent thereon, and then examine the conduct of the
republican General, BOUNAPARTE, in Italy--who must necessarily act from
the instructions of the Executive Directory----and he will be compelled
to acknowledge the justice of my remark, and to admit that the latter
actuated by the same pernicious desire to overturn the settled order of
society, which invariably marked the conduct of the former.
"It is an acknowledged fact, that every revolution requires a provisional
power to regulate its disorganizing movements, and to direct the
methodical demolition of every part of the ancient social constitution.--
Such ought to be the revolutionary power.
"To whom can such power belong, but to the French, in those countries
into which they may carry their arms? Can they with safety suffer it to
be exercised by any other persons? It becomes the French republic, then,
to assume this kind of guardianship over the people whom she awakens to
Liberty!*"
* _Considerations Generales fur l'Esprit et les Principes du Decret
du 15 Decembre_.
Such were the Lacedaemonian principles avowed by the French government in
1792, and such is the Lacedaimonian policy* pursued by the French
government in 1796! It cannot then, I conceive, be contended, that a
treaty with a government still professing principles which have been
repeatedly proved to be subversive of all social order, which have been
acknowledged by their parents to have for their object the methodical
demolition of existing constitutions, can be concluded without danger or
risk. That danger, I admit, is greatly diminished, because the power
which was destined to carry into execution those gigantic projects which
constituted its object, has, by the operations of the war, been
considerably curtailed. They well may exist in equal force, but the
ability is no longer the same.
MACHIAVEL justly observes, that it was the narrow policy of the
Lacedaemonians always to destroy the ancient constitution, and establish
their own form of government, in the counties and cities which they
subdued.
But though I maintain the existence of danger in a Treaty with the
Republic of France, unless she previously repeal the decrees to which I
have adverted, and abrogate the acts to which they have given birth, I by
no means contend that it exists in such a degree as to justify a
determination, on the part of the British government, to make its removal
the sine qua non of negotiation, or peace. Greatly as I admire the
brilliant endowments of Mr. BURKE, and highly as I respect and esteem him
for the manly and decisive part which he has taken, in opposition to the
destructive anarchy of republican France, and in defence of the
constitutional freedom of Britain; I cannot either agree with him on this
point, or concur with him in the idea that the restoration of the
Monarchy of France was ever the object of the war. That the British
Ministers ardently desired that event, and were earnest in their
endeavours to promote it, is certain; not because it was the object of
the war, but because they considered it as the best means of promoting
the object of the war, which was, and is, the establishment of the safety
and tranquillity of Europe, on a solid and permanent basis. If that
object can be attained, and the republic exist, there is nothing in the
past conduct and professions of the British Ministers, that can interpose
an obstacle to the conclusion of peace. Indeed, in my apprehension, it
would be highly impolitic in any Minister, at the commencement of a war,
to advance any specific object, that attainment of which should be
declared to be the sine qua non of peace. If mortals could arrogate to
themselves the attributes of the Deity, if they could direct the course
of events, and controul the chances of war, such conduct would be
justifiable; but on no other principle, I think, can its defence be
undertaken. It is, I grant, much to be lamented, that the protection
offered to the friends of monarchy in France, by the declaration of the
29th of October, 1793, could not be rendered effectual: as far as the
offer went it was certainly obligatory on the party who made it; but it
was merely conditional--restricted, as all similar offers necessarily
must be, by the ability to fulfil the obligation incurred.
In paying this tribute to truth, it is not my intention to retract, in
the smallest degree, the opinion I have ever professed, that the
restoration of the ancient monarchy of France would be the best possible
means not only of securing the different states of Europe from the
dangers of republican anarchy, but of promoting the real interests,
welfare, and happiness of the French people themselves. The reasons on
which this opinion is founded I have long since explained; and the
intelligence which I have since received from France, at different times,
has convinced me that a very great proportion of her inhabitants concur
in the sentiment.
The miseries resulting from the establishment of a republican system of
government have been severely felt, and deeply deplored; and I am fully
persuaded, that the subjects and tributaries of France will cordially
subscribe to the following observation on republican freedom, advanced by
a writer who had deeply studied the genius of republics: _"Di tutte le
fervitu dure, quella e durissima, che ti sottomette ad una republica;
l'una, perche e la piu durabile, e manco si puo sperarne d'ufare: L'altra
perche il fine della republica e enervare ed indebolire, debolire, per
accrescere il corpo suo, tutti gli altri corpi._*"
JOHN GIFFORD. London, Nov. 12, 1796.
* _Discorsi di Nicoli Machiavelli,_ Lib. ii. p. 88.
P.S. Since I wrote the preceding remarks, I have been given to
understand, that by a decree, subsequent to the completion of the
constitutional code, the first partial renewal of the Executive Directory
was deferred till the month of March, 1979; and that, therefore, in this
instance, the present Directory cannot be accused of having violated the
constitution. But the guilt is only to be transferred from the Directory
to the Convention, who passed that decree, as well as some others, in
contradiction to a positive constitutional law.-----Indeed, the Directory
themselves betrayed no greater delicacy with regard to the observance of
the constitution, or M. BARRAS would never have taken his seat among
them; for the constitution expressly says, (and this positive provision
was not even modified by any subsequent mandate of the Convention,) that
no man shall be elected a member of the Directory who has not completed
his fortieth year--whereas it is notorious that Barras had not this
requisite qualification, having been born in the year 1758!
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I avail myself of the opportunity afforded me by the publication of a
Second Edition to notice some insinuations which have been thrown out,
tending to question the authenticity of the work. The motives which have
induced the author to withhold from these Letters the sanction of her
name, relate not to herself, but to some friends still remaining in
France, whose safety she justly conceives might be affected by the
disclosure. Acceding to the force and propriety of these motives, yet
aware of the suspicions to which a recital of important facts, by an
anonymous writer, would naturally be exposed, and sensible, also, that a
certain description of critics would gladly avail themselves of any
opportunity for discouraging the circulation of a work which contained
principles hostile to their own; I determined to prefix my name to the
publication. By so doing, I conceived that I stood pledged for its
authenticity; and the matter has certainly been put in a proper light by
an able and respectable critic, who has observed that "Mr. GIFFORD stands
between the writer and the public," and that "his name and character are
the guarantees for the authenticity of the Letters."
This is precisely the situation in which I meant to place myself--
precisely the pledge which I meant to give. The Letters are exactly what
they profess to be; the production of a Lady's pen, and written in the
very situations which they describe.--The public can have no grounds for
suspecting my veracity on a point in which I can have no possible
interest in deceiving them; and those who know me will do me the justice
to acknowledge, that I have a mind superior to the arts of deception, and
that I am incapable of sanctioning an imposition, for any purpose, or
from any motives whatever. Thus much I deemed it necessary to say, as
well from a regard for my own character, and from a due attention to the
public, as from a wish to prevent the circulation | 2,072.75838 |
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Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/brianfitzcountst00crak
BRIAN FITZ-COUNT
* * * * * *
By the same Author.
_Crown 8vo._ 7s. 6d.
HISTORY OF THE CHURCH
UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE,
A.D. 30-476.
_Crown 8vo._ 3s. 6d.
EDWY THE FAIR,
OR THE
FIRST CHRONICLE OF AESCENDUNE.
A TALE OF THE DAYS OF SAINT DUNSTAN.
_Crown 8vo._ 3s. 6d.
ALFGAR THE DANE,
OR THE SECOND CHRONICLE OF AESCENDUNE.
A TALE OF THE DAYS OF EDMUND IRONSIDE.
_Crown 8vo._ 3s. 6d.
THE RIVAL HEIRS,
BEING THE THIRD AND LAST CHRONICLE OF AESCENDUNE.
_Crown 8vo._ 3s. 6d.
THE HOUSE OF WALDERNE.
A TALE OF THE CLOISTER AND THE FOREST IN THE
DAYS OF THE BARONS' WARS.
* * * * * *
BRIAN FITZ-COUNT
A Story of Wallingford Castle and Dorchester Abbey
by
THE REV. A. D. CRAKE, B.A.
Vicar of Cholsey, Berks; and Fellow of the Royal Historical Society;
Author of the 'Chronicles Of Aescendune,' etc. etc.
'Heu miserande puer, siqua fata aspera rumpas,
Tu Marcellus eris.'
VIRGIL: _Aeneid_, vi. 882-3.
Rivingtons
Waterloo Place, London
MDCCCLXXXVIII
DEDICATED WITH GREAT RESPECT
TO
JOHN KIRBY HEDGES, ESQ., J.P.
OF WALLINGFORD CASTLE
PREFACE
The author has accomplished a desire of many years in writing a story of
Wallingford Castle and Dorchester Abbey. They are the two chief
historical landmarks of a country familiar to him in his boyhood, and
now again his home. The first was the most important stronghold on the
Thames during the calamitous civil war of King Stephen's days. The
second was founded at the commencement of the twelfth century, and was
built with the stones which came from the Bishop's palace in Dorchester,
abandoned when Remigius in 1092 removed the seat of the Bishopric to
Lincoln.
The tale is all too true to mediaeval life in its darker features. The
reader has only to turn to the last pages of the _Anglo-Saxon Chronicle_
to justify the terrible description of the dungeons of the Castle, and
the sufferings inflicted therein. Brian Fitz-Count was a real personage.
The writer has recorded his dark deeds, but has striven to speak gently
of him, especially of his tardy repentance; his faults were those of
most Norman barons.
The critic may object that the plot of the story, so far as the secret
of Osric's birth is concerned, is too soon revealed--nay, is clear from
the outset. It was the writer's intention, that the fact should be
patent to the attentive reader, although unknown at the time to the
parties most concerned. Many an intricate story is more interesting the
second time of reading than the first, from the fact that the reader,
having the key, can better understand the irony of fate in the tale, and
the hearing of the events upon the situation.
In painting the religious system of the day, he may be thought by
zealous Protestants too charitable to the Church of our forefathers; for
he has always brought into prominence the evangelical features which,
amidst much superstition, ever existed within her, and which in her
deepest corruption was still _the salt_ which kept society from utter
ruin and degradation. But, as he has said elsewhere, it is a far nobler
thing to seek points of agreement in controversy, and to make the best
of things, than to be gloating over "corruptions" or exaggerating the
faults of our Christian ancestors. At the same time the author must not
be supposed to sympathise with all the opinions and sentiments which, in
consistency with the period, he puts into the mouth of theologians of
the twelfth century.
There has been no attempt to introduce archaisms in language, save that
the Domesday names of places are sometimes given in place of the modern
ones where it seemed appropriate or interesting to use them. The
speakers spoke either in Anglo-Saxon or Norman-French: the present
diction is simply translation. The original was quite as free from
stiffness, so far as we can judge.
The roads, the river, the hills, all the details of the scenery have
been familiar to the writer since his youth, and are therefore described
from personal knowledge. The Lazar-House at Byfield yet lingers in
tradition. Driving by the "Pond" one day years ago, the dreary sheet of
water was pointed out as the spot where the lepers once bathed; and the
informant added that to that day the natives shrank from bathing
therein. A strange instance of the long life of oral tradition--which
is, however, paralleled at Bensington, where the author in his youth
found traditions of the battle of the year 777 yet in existence,
although the fight does not find a place, or did not then, in the short
histories read in schools.
The author dedicates this book, with great respect, to the present owner
of the site and remains of Wallingford Castle, John Kirby Hedges, Esq.,
who with great kindness granted him free access to the Castle-grounds at
all times for the purposes of the story; and whose valuable work, _The
History of Wallingford_, has supplied the topographical details and the
special history of the Castle. For the history of Dorchester Abbey, he
is especially indebted to the notes of his lamented friend, the late
vicar of Dorchester.
A. D. C.
CHRISTMAS 1887.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. THE LORD OF THE CASTLE 1
II. THE CHASE 8
III. WHO STRUCK THE STAG? 16
IV. IN THE GREENWOOD 24
V. CWICHELM'S HLAWE 32
VI. ON THE DOWNS 40
VII. DORCHESTER ABBEY 48
VIII. THE BARON AND HIS PRISONERS 56
IX. THE LEPERS 64
X. THE NEW NOVICE 72
XI. OSRIC'S FIRST RIDE 79
XII. THE HERMITAGE 87
XIII. OSRIC AT HOME 95
XIV. THE HERMITAGE 104
XV. THE ESCAPE FROM OXFORD CASTLE 117
XVI. AFTER THE ESCAPE 131
XVII. LIFE AT WALLINGFORD CASTLE 141
XVIII. BROTHER ALPHEGE 150
XIX. IN THE LOWEST DEPTHS 158
XX. MEINHOLD AND HIS PUPILS 170
XXI. A DEATHBED DISCLOSURE 178
XXII. THE OUTLAWS 189
XXIII. THE PESTILENCE (AT BYFIELD) 200
XXIV. THE OPENING OF THE PRISON HOUSE 206
XXV. THE SANCTUARY 216
XXVI. SWEET SISTER DEATH 226
XXVII. FRUSTRATED 234
XXVIII. FATHER AND SON 244
XXIX. IN THE HOLY LAND 257
CHAPTER I
THE LORD OF THE CASTLE
It was the evening of the 30th of September in the year of grace 1139;
the day had been bright and clear, but the moon, arising, was rapidly
overpowering the waning light of the sun.
Brian Fitz-Count, Lord of Wallingford Castle by marriage with | 2,072.854225 |
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VILLAGE FOLK-TALES OF CEYLON
Vol. I
Collected and Translated by
H. PARKER
Late of the Irrigation Department, Ceylon
LONDON
LUZAC & CO
Publishers to the India Office
1910
CONTENTS
PAGE
Introduction 1
PART I.
STORIES OF THE CULTIVATING CASTE AND VAEDDAS.
NO.
1 The Making of the Great | 2,072.921581 |
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THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
A
MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF
GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.
VOL. XIII.
APRIL TO SEPTEMBER, 1871.
NEW YORK:
THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,
9 Warren Street.
1871.
JOHN ROSS & CO.,
PRINTERS AND STEREOTYPERS,
27 ROSE ST., NEW YORK.
CONTENTS.
Albertus Magnus Vindicated, 712
America's Obligation to France, 836
Ancients, the Writing Materials of the, 126
Animas, Las, 353
Animals, Love for, 545
Bishop Timon, 86
Bordeaux, 158
Brébeuf, Memoir of Father John, 512, 623
Carlyle and Père Bouhours, 820
Catholic Associations, Spirit of, 652
Catholicity and Pantheism, 554
Cayla, A Pilgrimage to, 595
Cecilia, Saint, 477
Church, The, Accredits herself, 145
Church, What our Municipal Laws owe to the, 342
Civilization, Origin of, 402
Dion and the Sibyls, 56
Doña Fortuna and Don Dinero, 130
Döllinger, The Apostasy of, 415
Education and Unification, 1
Education, On Higher, 115
Egbert Stanway, 377
Egyptian Civilization according to the most Recent Discoveries, 804
England, The Serial Literature of, 619
Europe's Future, 76
Flowers, 305
Froude and Calvinism, 541
France, America's Obligation to, 836
Future, The Present and the, 452
Galitzin, The Mother of Prince, 367
Geneva, The Catholic Church in, 847
Genzano and Frascati, 737
Good Gerard of Cologne, The, 797
Gottfried von Strassburg's Hymn to the Virgin, 240
_Independent_, A Word to _The_, 247
Infallibility, 577
Ireland, Ancient Laws of, 635
Ireland, The Lord Chancellors of, 228
Irish Martyr, An, 433
Italian Guarantees and the Sovereign Pontiff, 566
Laws, Municipal, and the Church, 342
Letter from Rome, 134
Letter from the President of a College, 281
Liquefaction of the Blood of St. Januarius, 772
Locket, The Story of an Algerine, 643
Lourdes, Our Lady of, 98, 255, 396, 527, 662, 825
Lucas Garcia, 785
Mary Benedicta, 207
Mary Clifford's Promise Kept, 447
Mexican Art and its Michael Angelo, 334
On Higher Education, 115
Our Lady of Guadalupe, 189
Our Lady of Lourdes, 98, 255, 396, 527, 662, 825
Our Northern Neighbors, 108
Page of the Past and a Shadow of the Future, A, 764
Pantheism, Catholicity and, 554
Pau, 504
Père Jacques and Mademoiselle Adrienne, 677
Present and the Future, The, 452
Protestantism, Statistics of, in the U. S., 195
Reformation, The, Not Conservative, 721
Rome, How it Looked Three Centuries Ago, 358
Rome, Letter from, 134
Saintship, False Views of, 424
Santa Restituta, Legend of, 276
Sardinia and the Holy Father, 289
Sauntering, 35
Sayings of the Fathers of the Desert, 274
Scepticism of the Age, The, 391
Secular, The, Not Supreme, 685
Shamrock Gone West, The, 264
Sor Juan Inez de la Cruz, 47
Spanish America, Dramatic Moralists in, 702
Statistics of Protestantism in the U. S., 195
St. Januarius, Liquefaction of the Blood of, 772
The Church Accredits Herself, 145
Unification, Education and, 1
What Our Municipal Laws Owe to the Church, 342
Writing Materials of the Ancients, 126
Yorke, The House of, 15, 169, 317, 461, 604, 746
POETRY.
"Amen" of the Stones, The, 168
A Pie IX., 684
Disillusioned, 489
Gualberto's Victory, 96
King Cormac's Choice, 413
On a Great Plagiarist, 206
Rose, The, 571
Saint John Dwarf, 357
Sancta Dei Genitrix, 771
Sonnet, 603
St. Francis and St. Dominic, 745
St. Francis of Assisi, 133
St. Mary Magdalen, 511
The Cross, 14
The True Harp, 594
To the Crucified, 352
Vespers, 275
Warning, The, 125
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
Allies' St. Peter, 860
Anderson's Historical Reader, 855
Appleton's Annual Cyclopædia, 573
Barker's Text-Book of Chemistry, 142
Bret Harte's Poems, 144
Caddell's Never Forgotten; or, The Home of the Lost Child, 853
Catechism Illustrated, The, 854
Clement's Hand-Book of Legendary and Mythological Art, 143
Coleridge's Theology of the Parables, 432
Conyngham's Sarsfield, 143
Curtius's History of Greece, 575
Cusack's History of Kerry, 855
Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, 573
Elia; or, Spain Fifty Years Ago, 141
Fairbanks's History of Florida, 857
Familiar Discourses to the Young, 288
Fifty Catholic Tracts, 430
Folia Ecclesiastica, 144
Gaskin's Irish Varieties, 142 | 2,072.954154 |
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[Illustration: Cover: Under the Red Crescent 1877-78]
UNDER THE RED CRESCENT.
[Illustration: Charles Ryan Walker & Boutall, Ph. Sc.]
UNDER THE RED CRESCENT:
ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH SURGEON
WITH THE TURKISH ARMY AT
PLEVNA AND ERZEROUM,
1877-1878.
RELATED BY
CHARLES S. RYAN, M.B., C.M. EDIN.,
IN ASS | 2,072.954243 |
2023-11-16 18:51:36.9512780 | 86 | 9 |
Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Dust cover art]
[Illustration: Cover]
Buck Peters, Ranchman
Being the Story of What Happened When Buck Peters,
Hopalong Cassidy, and Their Bar-20
Associates Went to Montana
BY
Clarence E. Mulford
AND
John Wood Clay
WITH FOUR ILLUSTR | 2,072.971318 |
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THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.
NUMBER 33. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1841. VOLUME I.
[Illustration: CAHIR CASTLE, COUNTY OF TIPPERARY]
To a large portion of our readers it will be scarcely necessary to state,
that the little town of Cahir is in many respects the most interesting of
its size to be found in the province of Munster, we had almost said in
all Ireland; and that, though this interest is to a considerable extent
derived from the extreme beauty of its situation and surrounding scenery,
it is in an equal degree attributable to a rarer quality in our small
towns--the beauty of its public edifices, and the appearance of neatness,
cleanliness, and comfort, which pervades it generally, and indicates
the fostering protection of the noble family to whom it belongs, and to
whom it anciently gave title. Most of our small towns require brilliant
sunshine to give them even a semi-cheerful aspect: Cahir looks pleasant
even on one of our characteristic gloomy days. As it is not, however, our
present purpose to enter on any detailed account of the town itself, but
to confine our notice to one of its most attractive features--its ancient
castle--we shall only state that Cahir is a market and post town, in the
barony of Iffa and Offa West, county of Tipperary, and is situated on the
river Suir, at the junction of the mail-coach roads leading respectively
from Waterford to Limerick, and from Cork by way of Cashel to Dublin. It
is about eight miles W.N.W. from Clonmel, and the same distance S.W. from
Cashel, and contains about 3500 inhabitants.
The ancient and proper name of this town is _Cahir-duna-iascaigh_, or,
the circular stone fortress of the fish-abounding Dun, or fort; a name
which appears to be tautological, and which can only be accounted for by
the supposition that an earthen _Dun_, or fort, had originally occupied
the site on which a _Cahir_, or stone fort, was erected subsequently.
Examples of names formed in this way, of words having nearly synonymous
meanings, are very numerous in Ireland, as _Caislean-dun-more_, the
castle of the great fort, and as the Irish name of Cahir Castle
itself, which, after the erection of the present building, was called
_Caislean-na-caherach-duna-iascaigh_, an appellation in which three
distinct Irish names for military works of different classes and ages are
combined | 2,072.991054 |
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ANGELOT
A Story of the First Empire
By
ELEANOR C. PRICE
_Author of
"The Heiress of the Forest"_
NEW YORK
Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1902, by_ THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
[Illustration: "YOU FORGET YOURSELF--YOU ARE MAD," SHE SAID HAUGHTILY.]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. In the Depths of Old France 1
II. How the Owls hooted in the Daytime 13
III. "Je suis le General Bim-Bam-Boum!" 26
IV. How the Breakfast cooked for Those was eaten by These 41
V. How Angelot made an Enemy 59
VI. How La Belle Helene took an Evening Walk 78
VII. The Sleep of Mademoiselle Moineau 95
VIII. How Monsieur Joseph met with Many Annoyances 112
IX. How Common Sense fought and triumphed 129
X. How Angelot refused what had not been offered 147
XI. How Monsieur Urbain smoked a Cigar 160
XII. How the Prefect's Dog snapped at the General 173
XIII. How Monsieur Simon showed himself a little too Clever 187
XIV. In which Three Words contain a Good Deal of Information 202
XV. How Henriette read History to Some Purpose 223
XVI. How Angelot played the Part of an Owl in an Ivy-bush 242
XVII. How Two Soldiers came Home from Spain 266
XVIII. How Captain Georges paid a Visit of Ceremony 285
XIX. The Treading of the Grapes 299
XX. How Angelot climbed a Tree 309
XXI. How Monsieur Joseph found himself Master of the Situation 324
XXII. The Lighted Windows of Lancilly 340
XXIII. A Dance with General Ratoneau 353
XXIV. How Monsieur de Sainfoy found a Way Out 369
XXV. How the Cure acted against his Conscience 385
XXVI. How Angelot kept his Tryst 398
XXVII. How Monsieur Joseph went out into the Dawn 416
XXVIII. How General Ratoneau met his Match 437
XXIX. The Disappointment of Monsieur Urbain 456
ANGELOT
A Story of the First Empire
CHAPTER I
IN THE DEPTHS OF OLD FRANCE
"Drink, Monsieur Angelot," said the farmer.
His wife had brought a bottle of the sparkling white wine of the
country, and two tall old treasures of cut glass. The wine slipped out
in a merry foam. Angelot lifted his glass with a smile and bow to the
mistress.
"The best wine in the country," he said as he set it down.
The hard lines of her face, so dark, so worn with perpetual grief and
toil, softened suddenly as she looked at him, and the farmer from his
solemn height broke into a laugh.
"Martin's wine," he said. "That was before they took him, the last boy.
But it is still rather new, Monsieur Angelot, though you are so amiable.
Ah, but it is the last good wine I shall ever have here at La
Joubardiere. I am growing old--see my white hair--I cannot work or make
other men work as the boys did. Our vintage used to be one of the sights
of the country--I needn't tell you, for you know--but now the vines
don't get half the care and labour they did ten years ago; and they feel
it, like children, they feel it. Still, there they remain, and give us
what fruit they can--but the real children, Monsieur Angelot, their
life-blood runs to waste in far-away lands. It does not enrich France.
Ah, the vines of Spain will grow the better for it, perhaps--"
"Hush, hush, master!" muttered the wife, for the old man was not
laughing now; his last words were half a sob, and tears ran suddenly
down. "I tell you always," she said, "Martin will come back. The good
God cannot let our five boys die, one after the other. Madame your
mother thinks so too," she said, nodding at Angelot. "I spoke to her
very plainly. I said, '_They_ cannot be unjust--and surely, to take all
the five children of a poor little farmer, and to leave not one, not
even the youngest, to do the work of the farm--come, what sort of
justice is that!' And she said: 'Listen, maitresse: the good God will
bring your Martin back to you. He cannot be unjust, as you say. If my
Angelot had to go to the war--and I always fear it--I should expect him
back as surely as I expect my husband back from Lancilly at this
moment.'"
Angelot smiled at her. "Yes, yes, Martin will come back," he said. But
he shrugged his shoulders, for he could not himself see much comfort for
these poor people in his mother's argument. If you have lost four, it is
surely more logical to expect to lose a fifth. His father, a
philosopher, would not have said so much as this to the Joubards, but
would have gone on another tack altogether. He would have pointed out to
them that the glory of France depended on their sons; that this
conscription, which seemed to them so cruel, which now, in 1811, was
becoming really oppressive, was the means of making France, under her
brilliant leader, the most powerful and magnificent nation in the world.
He would have waved the tricolour before those sad eyes, would have
counted over lists of victories; and so catching was his enthusiasm that
Joubard's back would have straightened under it, and he would have gone
home--it happened more than once--feeling like a hero and the father of
heroes. But the old fellow's sudden flame of faith in his landlord and
Napoleon was not so lasting as his wife's faith in Madame and the
justice of God.
Angelot wished the maitresse good-day, left a brace of birds on the
table, and stepped out from the grimy darkness of the farm kitchen into
the dazzling sunshine of that September morning. The old white farm,
with crumbling walls about it, remnants of attempts at fortification
long ago, looked fairly prosperous in its untidiness. The fresh stacks
of corn were golden still; poultry made a great clatter, a flock of
geese on their way out charging at the two men as they left the house.
An old peasant was hammering at barrels, in preparation for the vintage;
a wild girl with a stick and a savage-looking brindled dog was starting
off to fetch the cows in from their morning graze.
All the place was bathed in crystal air and golden light, fresh and
life-giving. It stood high on the edge of the moors, the ground falling
away to the south and east into a wild yet fertile valley; vineyards,
cornfields not long reaped, small woods, deep and narrow lanes, then
tall hedges studded with trees, green rich meadows by the streams far
below. On the <DW72>, a mile or two away, there was a church spire with a
few grey roofs near it, and the larger roofs, half-hidden by trees, of
the old manor of La Mariniere, Angelot's home. On the opposite <DW72> of
the valley, rising from the stream, another spire, another and larger
village; and above it, commanding the whole country side, with great
towers and shining roofs, solid lengths of wall gleaming in newly
restored whiteness, lines of windows still gold in the morning sun,
stood the old chateau of Lancilly, backed by the dark screen of forest
that came up close about it and in old days had surrounded it
altogether. Twenty years of emptiness; twenty years, first of revolution
and emigration, then of efforts to restore an old family, which the
powerful aid of a faithful cousin and friend had made successful; and
now the Comte de Sainfoy and his family were at last able to live again
at Lancilly in their old position, though there was much yet to be done
by way of restoration and buying back lost bits of property. But all
this could not be in better hands than those of Urbain de la Mariniere,
the cousin, the friend, somewhat despised among the old splendours of a
former regime, and thought the less of because of the opinions which
kept him safe and sound on French soil all through the Revolution,
enabling him both to save Lancilly for its rightful owners, and to keep
a place in the old and loved country for his own elder brother Joseph, a
far more consistent Royalist than Herve de Sainfoy with all his grand
traditions. For the favour of the Emperor had been made one great step
to the restoration of these noble emigrants. Therefore in this small
square of Angevin earth there were great divisions of opinion: but
Monsieur Urbain, the unprejudiced, the lover of both liberty and of
glory, and of poetry and philosophy beyond either, who had passed on
with France herself from the Committee of Public Safety to the
Directory, and then into the arms of First Consul and Emperor--Monsieur
Urbain, the cousin, the brother, whose wife was an ardent Royalist and
devout Catholic, whose young son was the favourite companion of his
uncle Joseph, a more than suspected Chouan--Monsieur Urbain, Angelot's
father, was everybody's friend, everybody's protector, everybody's
adviser, and the one peacemaker among them all. And naturally, in such a
case, Monsieur Urbain's hardest task was the management of his own
wife--but of this more hereafter.
"Your father's work, Monsieur Angelot," said old Joubard, pointing
across the valley to Lancilly, there in the blaze of the sun.
Angelot lifted his sleepy eyelids, his long lashes like a girl's, and
the glance that shot from beneath them was half careless, half uneasy.
"We have done without them pretty well for twenty years," the farmer
went on, "but I suppose we must be glad to see them back. Is it true
that they are coming to-day?"
"I believe so."
"Your uncle Joseph won't be glad to see them. The Emperor's people: they
may disturb certain quiet little games at Les Chouettes."
"That is my uncle's affair, Maitre Joubard."
"I know. Well, a still tongue is best for me. Monsieur Urbain is a good
landlord--and I've paid for my place in the Empire, _dame_, yes, five
times over. Yet, if I could choose my flag at this time of day, I should
not care for a variety of colours. Mind you, your father is a wise man
and knows best, I dare say. I am only a poor peasant. But taking men and
their opinions all round, Monsieur Angelot, and though some who think
themselves wise call him a fool,--with respect I say it,--your dear
little uncle is the man for me. Yes--I would back Monsieur Joseph
against all his brother's wisdom and his cousin's fine airs, and I am
sorry these Sainfoy people are coming back to trouble him and to spoil
his pretty little plots, which do no harm to any one."
Angelot laughed outright. "My uncle would not care to hear that," he
said.
"Nevertheless, you may tell him old Joubard said it. And what's more,
monsieur, your father thinks the same, or he would not let you live half
your life at Les Chouettes."
"He has other things to think of."
"Ah, I know--and Madame your mother to reckon with."
"You are too clever," said Angelot, laughing again. "Well, I must go,
for my uncle is expecting me to breakfast."
"Ah! and he has other guests. I saw them riding over from the south,
half an hour ago."
"You have a watch-tower here. You command the country."
"And my sight is a hawk's sight," said the old man. "Good-day, dear boy.
Give my duty to Monsieur Joseph."
Angelot started lightly on his way over the rough moorland road. The
high ridge of tableland extended far to the north; the _landes_, purple
and gold with the low heather and furze which covered them, unsheltered
by any tree, except where crossed in even lines by pollard oaks of
immense age, their great round heads so thick with leaves that a man
might well hide in them. These _truisses_, cut every few years, were
the peasants' store of firewood. Their long processions gave a curious
look of human life to the lonely moor, only inhabited by game, of which
Angelot saw plenty. But he did not shoot, his game-bag being already
stuffed with birds, but marched along with gun on shoulder and dog at
heel over the yellow sandy track, loudly whistling a country tune. There
was not a lighter heart than Angelot's in all his native province, nor a
handsomer face. He only wanted height to be a splendid fellow. His
daring mouth and chin seemed to contradict the lazy softness of his dark
eyes. With a clear, brown skin and straight figure, and dressed in brown
linen and heavy shooting boots, he was the picture of a healthy
sportsman.
A walk of a mile or two across the _landes_ brought him into a green
lane with tall wild hedges, full of enormous blackberries, behind which
were the vineyards, rather weedy as to soil, but loaded with the small
black and white grapes which made the good pure wine of the country.
Angelot turned in and looked at the grapes and ate a few; this was one
of his father's vineyards. The yellow grapes tasted of sunshine and the
south. Angelot went on eating them all the way down the lane; he was
thirsty, in spite of Joubard's sparkling wine, after tramping with dog
and gun since six o'clock in the morning. The green lane led to another,
very steep, rough, and stony. Corners of red and white rock stood out
in it; such a surface would have jolted a strong cart to pieces, but Les
Chouettes had no better approach on this side.
"I want no fine ladies to visit me," Monsieur Joseph would say, with his
sweet smile. "My friends will travel over any road."
Down plunged the lane, with a thick low wood on | 2,073.054685 |
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See 42666-h.htm or 42666-h.zip:
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
ACROSS PATAGONIA.
[Illustration: CROSSING THE CABEZA DEL MARE.]
ACROSS PATAGONIA
by
LADY FLORENCE DIXIE
With Illustrations from Sketches by Julius Beerbohm
Engraved by Whymper and Pearson
[Illustration: 'PUCHO.']
London:
Richard Bentley and Son
Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen
1880
The rights of Translation and Reproduction are reserved.
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
TO
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS,
ALBERT EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES,
THIS WORK
DESCRIPTIVE OF
SIX MONTHS' WANDERINGS OVER UNEXPLORED
AND UNTRODDEN GROUND,
IS BY KIND PERMISSION RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS'S
OBLIGED AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
WHY PATAGONIA?--GOOD-BYE--THE START--DIRTY WEATHER--
LISBON--THE ISLAND OF PALMA--PERNAMBUCO Pages 1-11
CHAPTER II.
BAHIA--RIO DE JANEIRO--RIO HARBOUR--THE TOWN--AN
UPSET--TIJUCA--A TROPICAL NIGHT--MORE UPSETS--SAFETY
AT LAST 12-25
CHAPTER III.
BEAUTIES OF RIO--MONTE VIDEO--STRAITS OF MAGELLAN--
TIERRA DEL FUEGO--ARRIVAL AT SANDY POINT--PREPARATIONS
FOR THE START--OUR OUTFIT--OUR GUIDES 26-39
CHAPTER IV.
THE START FOR CAPE <DW64>--RIDING ALONG THE STRAITS--CAPE
<DW64>--THE FIRST NIGHT UNDER CANVAS--UNEXPECTED
ARRIVALS--OUR GUESTS--A NOVEL PICNIC--ROUGH RIDING--
THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT Pages 40-51
CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF OUR GUESTS--THE START FOR THE PAMPAS--AN
UNTOWARD ACCIDENT--A DAY'S SPORT--UNPLEASANT EFFECTS OF
THE WIND--OFF CAPE GREGORIO. 52-61
CHAPTER VI.
VISIT TO THE INDIAN CAMP--A PATAGONIAN--INDIAN CURIOSITY
--PHYSIQUE--COSTUME--WOMEN--PROMINENT CHARACTERISTICS
--AN INDIAN INCROYABLE--SUPERSTITIOUSNESS 62-73
CHAPTER VII.
THE PRAIRIE FIRE 74-80
CHAPTER VIII.
UNPLEASANT VISITORS--"SPEED THE PARTING GUEST"--OFF
AGAIN--AN OSTRICH EGG--I'ARIA MISLEADS US--STRIKING
OIL--PREPARATIONS FOR THE CHASE--WIND AND HAIL--A
GUANACO AT LAST--AN EXCITING RUN--THE DEATH--HOME--
HUNGRY AS HUNTERS--"FAT-BEHIND-THE-EYE." 81-99
CHAPTER IX.
ELASTIC LEAGUES--THE LAGUNA BLANCA--AN EARTHQUAKE--
OSTRICH-HUNTING 100-115
CHAPTER X.
DEPARTURE FROM LAGUNA BLANCA--A WILD-CAT--IBIS SOUP--A
FERTILE CANYADON--INDIAN LAW AND EQUITY--OUR FIRST PUMA
--COWARDICE OF THE PUMA--DISCOMFORTS OF A WET NIGHT--A
MYSTERIOUS DISH--A GOOD RUN Pages 116-127
CHAPTER XI.
A NUMEROUS GUANACO HERD--A PAMPA HERMIT--I'ARIA AGAIN
LOSES THE WAY--CHORLITOS--A NEW EMOTION--A MOON
RAINBOW--WEATHER WISDOM--OPTIMIST AND PESSIMIST--WILD
FOWL ABUNDANT 128-137
CHAPTER XII.
A MONOTONOUS RIDE--A DREARY LANDSCAPE--SHORT FUEL
RATIONS--THE CORDILLERAS--FEATURES OF PATAGONIAN SCENERY
--HEAT AND GNATS--A PUMA AGAIN--"THE RAIN IS NEVER
WEARY"--DAMPNESS, HUNGER, GLOOM--I'ARIA TO THE RESCUE--
HIS INGENUITY 138-150
CHAPTER XIII.
A SURPRISE--A STRANGE SCENE--CALIFATE BERRIES--GUANACO
STALKING--A DILEMMA--MOSQUITOES--A GOOD SHOT--
MOSQUITOES 151-161
CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNKNOWN COUNTRY--PASSING THE BARRIER--CLEOPATRA'S
NEEDLES--FOXES--A GOOD RUN--OUR FOREST SANCTUARY--
ROUGHING IT--A BATH--A VARIED MENU 162-173
CHAPTER XV.
EXCURSIONS INTO THE MOUNTAINS--MYSTERIES OF THE
CORDILLERAS--WILD HORSE TRACKS--DEER--MAN THE
DESTROYER 174-183
CHAPTER XVI.
AN ALARM--THE WILD-HORSES--AN EQUINE COMBAT--THE WILD
STALLION VICTORIOUS--THE STRUGGLE RENEWED--RETREAT OF
THE WILD HORSES 184-189
CHAPTER XVII.
EXCURSION TO THE CLEOPATRA NEEDLES--A BOG--A WINDING
RIVER--DIFFICULT TRAVELLING--A STRANGE PHENOMENON--A
FAIRY HAUNT--WILD HORSES AGAIN--THEIR AGILITY--THE
BLUE LAKE--THE CLEOPATRA PEAKS--THE PROMISED LAND 190-200
CHAPTER XVIII.
WE THINK OF RETURNING--GOOD-BYE TO THE CORDILLERAS--THE
LAST OF THE WILD HORSES--MOSQUITOES--A STORMY NIGHT--A
CALAMITY--THE LAST OF OUR BISCUIT--UTILITY OF
FIRE-SIGNALS 201-212
CHAPTER XIX.
ISIDORO--AN UNSAVOURY MEAL--EXPENSIVE LOAVES--GUANACO
SCARCE--DISAPPOINTMENT--NIGHT SURPRISES US--SUPPERLESS
--CONTINUED FASTING--NO MEAT IN THE CAMP 213-223
CHAPTER XX.
THE HORSES LOST!--UNPLEASANT PROSPECTS--FOUND--SHORT
RATIONS--A STRANGE HUNT--A STERN CHASE--THE MYSTERY
SOLVED--THE CABEZA DEL MAR--SAFELY ACROSS--A DAMP
NIGHT--CABO <DW64> AGAIN 224-238
CHAPTER XXI.
CABO <DW64>--HOME NEWS--CIVILISATION AGAIN--OUR
DISREPUTABLE APPEARANCE--PUCHO MISSING--THE COMING OF
PUCHO--PUCHO'S CHARACTERISTICS 239-251
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PUCHO _Title_
CROSSING THE CABEZA DEL MAR _Frontispiece_
A GUANACO ON THE LOOK-OUT _Page_ 1
THE STRAITS OF MAGELLAN _To face page_ 40
"COLLECTING THE 'TROPILLA'--SADDLING UP" " 56
INDIAN CAMP " 64
GUANACOS " 96
THE LAST DOUBLE " 112
THE PUMA'S DEATH-SPRING " 146
RAVINE ENTRANCE TO THE CORDILLERAS " 162
THE "CLEOPATRA NEEDLES" " 166
ENCAMPMENT IN THE CORDILLERAS " 168
"THE WILD-HORSE GLEN" " 178
"WE WERE THE FIRST WHO EVER BURST ON TO THAT SILENT SEA" " 198
[Illustration: A GUANACO ON THE LOOK-OUT.]
CHAPTER I.
WHY PATAGONIA?--GOOD-BY--THE START--DIRTY WEATHER--
LISBON--THE ISLAND OF PALMA--PERNAMBUCO.
"Patagonia! who would ever think of going to such a place?" "Why, you
will be eaten up by cannibals!" "What on earth makes you choose such
an outlandish part of the world to go to?" "What can be the
attraction?" "Why, it is thousands of miles away, and no one has ever
been there before, except Captain Musters, and one or two other
adventurous madmen!"
These, and similar questions and exclamations I heard from the lips of
my friends and acquaintances, when I told them of my intended trip to
Patagonia, the land of the Giants, the land of the fabled Golden City
of Manoa. What was the attraction in going to an outlandish place so
many miles away? The answer to the question was contained in its own
words. Precisely because it was an outlandish place and so far away, I
chose it. Palled for the moment with civilisation and its
surroundings, I wanted to escape somewhere, where I might be as far
removed from them as possible. Many of my readers have doubtless felt
the dissatisfaction with oneself, and everybody else, that comes over
one at times in the midst of the pleasures of life; when one wearies
of the shallow artificiality of modern existence; when what was once
excitement has become so no longer, and a longing grows up within one
to taste a more vigorous emotion than that afforded by the monotonous
round of society's so-called "pleasures."
Well, it was in this state of mind that I cast round for some country
which should possess the qualities necessary to satisfy my
requirements, and finally I decided upon | 2,073.154196 |
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Produced by David Widger
THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A. F.R.S.
CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY
TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SHORTHAND MANUSCRIPT IN THE PEPYSIAN LIBRARY
MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE BY THE REV. MYNORS BRIGHT M.A. LATE FELLOW
AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE
(Unabridged)
WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE'S NOTES
1965
By Samuel Pepys
Edited With Additions By
Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A.
LONDON
GEORGE BELL & SONS YORK ST. COVENT GARDEN
CAMBRIDGE DEIGHTON BELL & CO.
1893
JANUARY 1664-1665
January 1st (Lord's day). Lay long in bed, having been busy late last
night, then up and to my office, where upon ordering my accounts
and papers with respect to my understanding my last year's gains and
expense, which I find very great, as I have already set down yesterday.
Now this day I am dividing my expense, to see what my clothes and every
particular hath stood me in: I mean all the branches of my expense. At
noon a good venison pasty and a turkey to ourselves without any body
so much as invited by us, a thing unusuall for so small a family of my
condition: but we did it and were very merry. After dinner to my office
again, where very late alone upon my accounts, but have not brought them
to order yet, and very intricate I find it, notwithstanding my care all
the year to keep things in as good method as any man can do. Past 11
o'clock home to supper and to bed.
2nd. Up, and it being a most fine, hard frost I walked a good way toward
White Hall, and then being overtaken with Sir W. Pen's coach, went into
it, and with him thither, and there did our usual business with the
Duke. Thence, being forced to pay a great deale of money away in boxes
(that is, basins at White Hall), I to my barber's, Gervas, and there had
a little opportunity of speaking with my Jane alone, and did give her
something, and of herself she did tell me a place where I might come to
her on Sunday next, which I will not fail, but to see how modestly and
harmlessly she brought it out was very pretty. Thence to the Swan, and
there did sport a good while with Herbert's young kinswoman without
hurt, though they being abroad, the old people. Then to the Hall, and
there agreed with Mrs. Martin, and to her lodgings which she has now
taken to lie in, in Bow Streete, pitiful poor things, yet she thinks
them pretty, and so they are for her condition I believe good enough.
Here I did 'ce que je voudrais avec' her most freely, and it having
cost 2s. in wine and cake upon her, I away sick of her impudence, and
by coach to my Lord Brunker's, by appointment, in the Piazza, in
Covent-Guarding; where I occasioned much mirth with a ballet I brought
with me, made from the seamen at sea to their ladies in town; saying
Sir W. Pen, Sir G. Ascue, and Sir J. Lawson made them. Here a most noble
French dinner and banquet, the best I have seen this many a day and good
discourse. Thence to my bookseller's and at his binder's saw Hooke's
book of the Microscope,
["Micrographia: or some physiological descriptions of minute bodies
made by Magnifying Glasses. London, 1665," a very remarkable work
with elaborate plates, some of which have been used for lecture
illustrations almost to our own day. On November 23rd, 1664, the
President of the Royal Society was "desired to sign a licence for
printing of Mr. Hooke's microscopical book." At this time the book
was mostly printed, but it was delayed, much to Hooke's disgust, by
the examination of several Fellows of the Society. In spite of this
examination the council were anxious that the author should make it
clear that he alone was responsible for any theory put forward, and
they gave him notice to that effect. Hooke made this clear in his
dedication (see Birch's "History," vol. i., pp. 490-491)]
which is so pretty that I presently bespoke it, and away home to the
office, where we met to do something, and then though very late by coach
to Sir Ph. Warwicke's, but having company with him could not speak with
him. So back again home, where thinking to be merry was vexed with my
wife's having looked out a letter in Sir Philip Sidney about jealousy
for me to read, which she industriously and maliciously caused me to do,
and the truth is my conscience told me it was most proper for me, and
therefore was touched at it, but tooke no notice of it, but read it out
most frankly, but it stucke in my stomach, and moreover I was vexed to
have a dog brought to my house to line our little bitch, which they make
him do in all their sights, which, God forgive me, do stir my jealousy
again, though of itself the thing is a very immodest sight. However, to
cards with my wife a good while, and then to bed.
3rd. Up, and by coach to Sir Ph. Warwicke's, the streete being full
of footballs, it being a great frost, and found him and Mr. Coventry
walking in St. James's Parke. I did my errand to him about the felling
of the King's timber in the forests, and then to my Lord of Oxford,
Justice in Eyre, for his consent thereto, for want whereof my Lord Privy
Seale stops the whole business. I found him in his lodgings, in but an
ordinary furnished house and roome where he was, but I find him to be a
man of good discreet replys. Thence to the Coffee-house, where certain
newes that the Dutch have taken some of our colliers to the North; some
say four, some say seven. Thence to the 'Change a while, and so home
to dinner and to the office, where we sat late, and then I to write
my letters, and then to Sir W. Batten's, who is going out of towne to
Harwich to-morrow to set up a light-house there, which he hath lately
got a patent from the King to set up, that will turne much to his
profit. Here very merry, and so to my office again, where very late, and
then home to supper and to bed, but sat up with my wife at cards till
past two in the morning.
4th. Lay long, and then up and to my Lord of Oxford's, but his Lordshipp
was in bed at past ten o'clock: and, Lord helpe us! so rude a dirty
family I never saw in my life. He sent me out word my business was not
done, but should against the afternoon. I thence to the Coffee-house,
there but little company, and so home to the 'Change, where I hear of
some more of our ships lost to the Northward. So to Sir W. Batten's, but
he was set out before I got thither. I sat long talking with my lady,
and then home to dinner. Then come Mr. Moore to see me, and he and I to
my Lord of Oxford's, but not finding him within Mr. Moore and I to "Love
in a Tubb," which is very merry, but only so by gesture, not wit at all,
which methinks is beneath the House. So walked home, it being a very
hard frost, and I find myself as heretofore in cold weather to begin to
burn within and pimples and pricks all over my body, my pores with cold
being shut up. So home to supper and to cards and to bed.
5th. Up, it being very cold and a great snow and frost tonight. To the
office, and there all the morning. At noon dined at home, troubled at
my wife's being simply angry with Jane, our cook mayde (a good servant,
though perhaps hath faults and is cunning), and given her warning to
be gone. So to the office again, where we sat late, and then I to my
office, and there very late doing business. Home to supper and to the
office again, and then late home to bed.
6th. Lay long in bed, but most of it angry and scolding with my wife
about her warning Jane our cookemayde to be gone and upon that she
desires to go abroad to-day to look a place. A very good mayde she is
and fully to my mind, being neat, only they say a little apt to scold,
but I hear her not. To my office all the morning busy. Dined at home.
To my office again, being pretty well reconciled to my wife, which I | 2,073.154203 |
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(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
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Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustration.
See 54219-h.htm or 54219-h.zip:
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Images of the original pages are available through
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: 9^a).
[Illustration]
A LITTLE ENGLISH GALLERY
by
LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY
[Illustration]
New York
Harper and Brothers
MDCCCXCIV
Copyright, 1894, by Harper & Brothers.
All rights reserved.
TO
EDMUND GOSSE
THIS FRIENDLY TRESPASS ON HIS FIELDS
PREFATORY NOTE
THE studies in this book are chosen from a number written at irregular
intervals, and from sheer interest in their subjects, long ago.
Portions of them, or rough drafts of what has since been wholly
remodelled from fresher and fuller material at first hand, have
appeared within five years in _The Atlantic Monthly_, _Macmillan’s_,
_The Catholic World_, and _Poet-Lore_; and thanks are due the
magazines for permission to reprint them. Yet more cordial thanks,
for kind assistance on biographical points, belong to the Earl of
Powis; the Rev. R. H. Davies, Vicar of old St. Luke’s, Chelsea; the
Rev. T. Vere Bayne, of Christchurch, and H. E. D. Blakiston, Esq.,
of Trinity College, Oxford; T. W. Lyster, Esq., of the National
Library of Ireland; Aubrey de Vere Beauclerk, Esq.; Miss Langton,
of Langton-by-Spilsby; the Vicars of Dauntsey, Enfield Highway, and
Montgomery, and especially those of High Ercall and Speke; and the
many others in England through whose courtesy and patience the tracer
of these unimportant sketches has been able to make them approximately
life-like.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. LADY DANVERS (1561-1627) 1
II. HENRY VAUGHAN (1621-1695) 53
III. GEORGE FARQUHAR (1677-1707) 119
IV. TOPHAM BEAUCLERK (1739-1780)
AND
BENNET LANGTON (1741-1800) 171
V. WILLIAM HAZLITT (1778-1830) 229
I
LADY DANVERS
1561-1627
MR. MATTHEW ARNOLD somewhere devotes a grateful sentence to the women
who have left a fragrance in literary history, and whose loss of long
ago can yet inspire men of to-day with indescribable regret. Lady
Danvers is surely one of these. As John Donne’s dear friend, and George
Herbert’s mother, she has a double poetic claim, like her unforgotten
contemporary, Mary Sidney, for whom was made an everlasting epitaph.
If Dr. Donne’s fraternal fame have not quite the old lustre of the
incomparable Sir Philip’s, it is, at least, a greater honor to own
Herbert for son than to have perpetuated the race of Pembroke. Nor is
it an inharmonious thing to remember, in thus calling up, in order to
rival it, the sweet memory of “Sidney’s sister,” that Herbert and
Pembroke have long been, and are yet, married names.
Magdalen, the youngest child of Sir Richard Newport, and of Margaret
Bromley, his wife, herself daughter of that Bromley who was
Privy-Councillor, Lord Chief-Justice, and executor to Henry VIII., was
born in High Ercall, Salop; the loss or destruction of parish registers
leaves us but 1561-62 as the probable date. Of princely stock, with
three sisters and an only brother, and heir to virtue and affluence,
she could look with the right pride of unfallen blood upon “the many
fair coats the Newports bear” over their graves at Wroxeter. It was
the day of learned and thoughtful girls; and this girl seems to have
been at home with book and pen, with lute and viol. She married, in
the flower of her youth, Richard Herbert, Esquire, of Blache Hall,
Montgomery, black-haired and black-bearded, as were all his line; a man
of some intellectual training, and of noted courage, descended from
a distinguished brother of the yet more distinguished Sir Richard
Herbert of Edward IV.’s time, and from the most ancient rank of Wales
and England. At Eyton in Salop, in 1581, was born their eldest child,
Edward, afterwards Lord Herbert of Cherbury, a writer who is still the
puzzle and delight of Continental critics. He is said to have been a
beautiful boy, and not very robust; his first speculation with his
infant tongue was the piercing query: “How came I into this world?” But
his next brother, Richard, was of another stamp; and went his frank,
flashing, fighting way through Europe, “with scars of four-and-twenty
wounds upon him, to his grave” at Bergen-op-Zoom, with William, the
third son, following in his soldierly footsteps. Charles grew up
reserved and studious, and died, like his paternal uncle, a dutiful
Fellow of New College, Oxford. The fifth of these Herberts, “a soul
composed of harmonies,” as Cotton said of him, and destined to make the
name beloved among all readers of English, was George, the poet, the
saintly “parson of Fuggleston and Bemerton.” Henry, his junior, with
whom George had a sympathy peculiarly warm and long, became in his
manhood Master of the Revels, and held the office for over fifty years.
“You and I are alone left to brother it,” Lord Herbert of Cherbury once
wrote him, in a mood more tender than his wont, when all else of that
radiant family had gone into dust. The youngest of Magdalen Newport’s
sons was Thomas, “a posthumous,” traveller, sailor, and master of a
ship in the war against Algiers. Elizabeth, Margaret, and Frances
were the daughters, of whom Izaak Walton says, with satisfaction,
that they lived to be examples of virtue, and to do good to their
generation. None of them made an illustrious match. Margaret married
a Vaughan. Frances secured unto herself the patronymic Brown, and was
happily seconded by Elizabeth, George Herbert’s “dear sick sister,”
who | 2,073.476647 |
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AN
ADDRESS,
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
WAS-AH HO-DE-NO-SON-NE
OR
NEW CONFEDERACY OF THE IROQUOIS,
BY
HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,
A MEMBER:
AT ITS THIRD ANNUAL COUNCIL,
AUGUST 14, 1845.
ALSO,
GENUNDEWAH,
A POEM,
BY
W | 2,073.556674 |
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and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Library of Early
Journals.)
Transcriber's note: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they
are listed at the end of the text.
* * * * *
{437}
NOTES AND QUERIES:
A MEDIUM OF INTER-COMMUNICATION FOR LITERARY MEN, ARTISTS, ANTIQUARIES,
GENEALOGISTS, ETC.
"When found, make a note of."--CAPTAIN CUTTLE.
* * * * *
No. 237.]
SATURDAY, MAY 13. 1854.
[Price Fourpence. Stamped Edition 5d.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
NOTES:-- Page
"Shakspeare's Rime which he made at the Mytre," by
Dr. E. F. Rimbault 439
Rous, the Sottish Psalmist, Provost of Eton College: and
his Will, by the Rev. H. T. Ellacombe 440
Original English Royal Letters to the Grand Masters of
Malta, by William Winthrop 442
Disease among Cattle, by Thos. Nimmo 445
Popiana, by Harry Leroy Temple 445
Hampshire Folk Lore, by Eustace W.
Jacob 446
The most curious Book in the World 446
Minor Notes:--Baptism, Marriage, and Crowning of
Geo. III.--Copernicus--First Instance of Bribery amongst
Members of Parliament--Richard Brinsley Sheridan--Publican's
Invitation--Bishop Burnet again!--Old Custom preserved in
Warwickshire--English Diplomacy v. Russian 447
QUERIES:--
Ancient Tenure of Lands, by A. J. Dunkin 448
Owen Rowe the Regicide 449
Writings of the Martyr Bradford, by the Rev. A. Townsend 449
MINOR QUERIES:--Courtney Family--"The Shipwrecked Lovers"--
Sir John Bingham--Proclamation for making Mustard--Judges
practising at Bar--Celebrated Wagers--"Pay me tribute, or
else----"--"A regular Turk"--Benj. Rush--Per Centum Sign--
Burial Service Tradition--Jean Bart's Descent on Newcastle--
Madame de Stael--Honoria, Daughter of Lord Denny--Hospital
of John of Jerusalem--Heiress of Haddon Hall--Monteith--
Vandyking--Hiel the Bethelite--Earl of Glencairn--Willow
Bark in Ague--"Perturbabantur," &c. 450
MINOR QUERIES WITH ANSWERS:--Seamen's Tickets--Bruce,
Robert--Coronation Custom--William Warner--"Isle of
Beauty"--Edmund Lodge--King John 452
REPLIES:--
Has Execution by Hanging been survived? by William Bates 453
Coleridge's Christabel, by C. Mansfield Ingleby 455
General Whitelocke 455
PHOTOGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE:--Gravelly Wax Negatives--
Photographic Experience 456
REPLIES TO MINOR QUERIES:--Turkish Language--Dr. Edward
Daniel Clarke's Charts of the Black Sea--Aristotle on living
Law--Christ's or Cris Cross Row--Titles to the Psalms in
the Syriac Version--"Old Rowley"--Wooden Effigies--Abbott
Families 456
MISCELLANEOUS:--
Notes on Books, &c. 458
Books and Odd Volumes Wanted 458
Notices to Correspondents 459
* * * * *
MR. RUSKIN'S NEW WORK.
Now ready, in crown 8vo., with 15 Plates, price 8s. 6d. cloth,
LECTURES ON ARCHITECTURE AND PAINTING.
BY JOHN RUSKIN,
Author of "The Stones of Venice," "Modern Painters," "Seven Lamps of
Architecture," &c.
London: SMITH, ELDER, & CO.,
65. Cornhill.
* * * * *
GOVERNMENT INSPECTION OF NUNNERIES.
This Day, in fcp. 8vo., price 3s. 6d. (post free, 4s.),
QUICKSANDS ON FOREIGN SHORES! This work, which is the production of a lady,
and revised by a prelate highly distinguished in the world of letters,
ought to be in the hands of every Protestant and Catholic in the kingdom.
BLACKADER & CO., 13. Paternoster Row.
* * * * *
MORELL.--RUSSIA AND ENGLAND, THEIR STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS. By JOHN REYNELL
MORELL. 100 pp., 12mo. sd., price 1s.
WHITTY.--THE GOVERNING CLASSES OF GREAT BRITAIN: POLITICAL PORTRAITS. By
EDWARD M. WHITTY. 232 pp., 12mo. sd., price 1s. 6d.
TRUEBNER & CO., 12. Paternoster Row.
* * * * *
Now ready, No. VII. (for May), price 2s. 6d., published Quarterly.
RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW (New Series); consisting of Criticisms upon, Analyses
of, and Extracts from, Curious, Useful, Valuable, and Scarce Old Books.
Vol. I., 8vo., pp. 436, cloth 10s. 6d., is also ready.
JOHN RUSSELL SMITH, 36. Soho Square, London.
* * * * *
No. II. Of JOHN RUSSELL SMITH'S OLD BOOK CIRCULAR is published this Day;
containing 1200 Choice, Useful, and Curious Books at very moderate prices.
It may be had Gratis on application, or sent by Post on Receipt of a
postage label to frank it.
J. R. SMITH, 36. Soho Square, London.
* * * * *
Just published, with ten Engravings, price 5s.,
NOTES ON AQUATIC MICROSCOPIC SUBJECTS OF NATURAL HISTORY, selected from the
"Microscopic Cabinet." By ANDREW PRITCHARD, M.R.I.
Also, in 8vo., pp. 720, plates 24, price 21s., or, 36s.,
A HISTORY OF INFUS | 2,073.654321 |
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Transcriber's Note: text originally italicized is rendered herein
with underscores before and after. Small-caps are rendered as
all uppercase.
COPYRIGHT 1910 BY OREGON SHORT LINE
TEXT BY EDWARD F. COLBORN PHOTOS BY F. J. HAYNES
TO GEYSERLAND
[Illustration: Geyser.]
UNION PACIFIC--OREGON SHORT LINE RAILROADS
TO THE YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
Connecting with Transcontinental Trains from all points East and
West thence through the Park by the four-horse Concord coaches
of the M-Y STAGE COMPANY
[Illustration: The Great Falls of the Yellowstone]
GEYSERLAND
Where in confusion canyons and mountains and swift running rivers with
painted banks abound, and elk and deer, buffalo and bear range through
the wilds unterrified by man and gun, and tall, straight pines in almost
unbroken forests plant their feet in a tangle of down-timber that
centuries were required to produce; where in the earth there are vents
through which roar and rush at exact intervals columns of boiling water,
sometimes more than two hundred feet high, or in which painted mud
blubbers and spurts; where pools by thousands at scalding heat boil and
murmur; where under one's feet is felt the hollow of the earth and
through hundreds of holes of unfathomable depth come deep growls of
Nature in her confinement; where dyes have been daubed in delirium on
hillsides and river's brink; where a canyon gashes the earth thousands
of feet through colors so vivid and varied that no record can write them
down; where one of the highest navigable lakes in the world washes the
feet of mountains that hold aloft the snows through every month of the
year; where the supernal and the infernal are blended in a harmony that
only Infinitude can produce, and every miracle of Creation has been
worked; where one can be lost in a wilderness as long as he will and
come face to face with almost every form of creative eccentricity--there
is _Geyserland_.
_The Way in and Out_
Yellowstone National Park is reached via the Union Pacific and its
connection, the Oregon Short Line, the New and Direct Route, over one
stem from Kansas City and Leavenworth, and over another from Council
Bluffs and Omaha. By way of the latter you cross the Missouri River over
a magnificent steel bridge and traverse the "Lane Cut Off," a splendid
illustration of modern railroad construction. If you journey over the
stem from Kansas City, your way leads through a succession of thriving
cities and towns amid the finest farming region of the West, and through
beautiful Denver, through Cheyenne, thence through Wyoming, and a
portion of Utah, to Ogden, from which point Salt Lake City, 37 miles
distant, is reached.
[Illustration: _The Cascades of the Firehole River_]
[Illustration: _Hayden Valley between Yellowstone Lake and the Falls_]
Leaving the central system of transcontinental lines, access to the Park
is had in a night by way of the Oregon Short Line Railroad from Salt
Lake City, Ogden, or Pocatello to the station, Yellowstone, Montana, at
the western border, nineteen miles from the Fountain Hotel.
All along this route are strewn stretches of delightful scenery, and
fields of rare fertility; but these things the tourist does not see--he
awakens for breakfast at Yellowstone, and an hour thereafter is
following the course of the beautiful Madison, well on his way into the
Park and to the wonders that there await him.
_The Scenery_
As a whole, the scenery of the Park is restful and satisfying. What it
lacks in the stupendous it makes up in softness of coloring and the
gentle undulations that lead gradually to the massive mountains. The
green of the pines, lightened and darkened here and there with the
shades of different species, is everywhere. The waters of the rivers are
dimmed by the shadows; the cascades have a glimmer and sparkle quite
their own, and now and then peep out in the sweeps of the distance,
little lakes that shimmer in the sun. Vagrant clouds of steam, signs of
the geysers and boiling springs, are seen all over the landscape,
especially in the early morning when a little of the night frost still
lingers in the air. Many grotesque shapes are taken on by the rocks, and
there is hardly a spring or pool that does not suggest its name by its
form. From the Lake Hotel can be seen facing skyward, the profile of a
human face so perfect it | 2,073.859891 |
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[Illustration: _The Author._
_From a Photograph by Bingham, (Paris)_]
SOYER'S
CULINARY CAMPAIGN.
BEING HISTORICAL REMINISCENCES
OF THE LATE WAR.
WITH
THE PLAIN ART OF COOKERY
FOR
MILITARY AND CIVIL INSTITUTIONS, THE ARMY, NAVY,
PUBLIC, ETC. ETC.
BY ALEXIS SOYER,
AUTHOR OF "THE MODERN HOUSEWIFE," "SHILLING COOKERY FOR THE PEOPLE,"
ETC.
LONDON:
G. ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET.
NEW YORK: 18, BEEKMAN STREET.
1857.
[_The right of translation is reserved._]
LONDON:
SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS,
CHANDOS STREET.
TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD PANMURE, K.T.
ETC. ETC. ETC.
MY LORD,
Grateful, indeed, do I feel for the unlimited confidence reposed in me
by your Lordship during my late Mission in the East, and especially so
for your kind condescension in permitting me to dedicate to your
Lordship this work, which at once puts the final seal to your Lordship's
appreciation of my humble services.
With the most profound respect,
I have the honour to remain,
My Lord,
Your Lordship's most humble and dutiful Servant,
ALEXIS SOYER.
PREFACE.
The Author of this work begs to inform his readers that his principal
object in producing his "Culinary Campaign" is to perpetuate the
successful efforts made by him to improve the dieting of the Hospitals
of the British army in the East, as well as the soldiers' rations in the
Camp before Sebastopol.
The literary portion the Author has dished up to the best of his
ability; and if any of his readers do not relish its historical
contents, he trusts that the many new and valuable receipts, applicable
to the Army, Navy, Military and Civil Institutions, and the public in
general, will make up in succulence for any literary deficiencies that
may be found in its pages.
At the same time, the Author takes this opportunity of publicly
returning his most grateful thanks to the late authorities at the seat
of war for their universal courtesy, friendship, and great assistance,
without which success would have been an impossibility.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
INTRODUCTION.--A SUPPER AT THE "ALBION," AND
ITS CONSEQUENCES 1
I. BY RAIL AND COACH TO VIRGINIA WATER 13
II. A SUMMONS TO STAFFORD HOUSE 29
III. OFF TO THE WAR 36
IV. DELIGHTS OF TRAVEL 49
V. COMFORT ON SHORE AND PENANCE AT SEA 57
VI. THE LAND OF THE MOSLEM 70
VII. A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF CONSTANTINOPLE FROM PERA 83
VIII. FIRST VIEW OF THE SCENE OF ACTION 91
IX. COMMENCEMENT OF THE CULINARY CAMPAIGN 101
X. A TOUR ROUND THE KITCHENS 111
XI. FIRST OPERATIONS 124
XII. THE SCUTARI MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 134
XIII. DEPARTURE FOR THE CRIMEA 147
XIV. COMMENCEMENT OF MY CAMPAIGN IN THE CRIMEA 160
XV. THE ENGLISH AND TURKISH COMMANDERS-IN-CHIEF 180
XVI. A NEW ENEMY 191
XVII. RECEPTION AT ENGLISH AND FRENCH HEAD-QUARTERS 200
XVIII. A UNIVERSAL CALAMITY 213
XIX. HAPS AND MISHAPS IN CAMP 227
XX. EXPEDITIONS ON HORSE AND ON FOOT 239
XXI. MATTERS GRAVE AND GAY 250
XXII. PREPARATIONS FOR ANOTHER TRIP 266
XXIII. OUR STEAM VOYAGE IN THE "LONDON" 289
XXIV. THREE WEEKS AT SCUTARI 297
XXV. FESTIVITIES AT SCUTARI AND VISITS TO FRENCH HOSPITALS 315
XXVI. MY SECOND TRIP TO THE CRIMEA 325
XXVII. CAMP LIFE AT HEAD-QUARTERS 334
XXVIII. MY GREAT FIELD-DAY 350
XXIX. THE EIGHTH OF SEPTEMBER 364
XXX. FALL OF THE DOOMED CITY 375
XXXI. ILLNESS AND CHANGE OF SCENE 385
XXXII. CAMP OF THE FOURTH DIVISION 400
XXXIII. HOSTILITIES AT TABLE 415
XXXIV. CRIMEAN FESTIVITIES 433
XXXV. LAST DAYS OF BRITISH OCCUPATION OF THE CRIMEA 459
XXXVI. LAST SCENE OF OUR STRANGE EVENTFUL HISTORY 484
ADDENDA 513
ERRATA.
In page 6, _for_ "Little Jack," _read_ "Little Ben."
Page 32, line 12, _for_ "I think," _read_ "She thinks."
A CULINARY CAMPAIGN
BY
A. SOYER
ILLUSTRATED BY H. G. HINE.
[Illustration: Title Page]
INTRODUCTION.
A SUPPER AT THE "ALBION," AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Old Drury--Juvenile mirth--A sudden arrest--An invitation--No
excuse--Getting home--Mind your pockets--A trip to the
"Wellington"--An intelligent waiter--Reading the news--A sudden
inspiration--Letter to the _Times_--The stupid waiter again--Little
Jack--Supper fare--Receipts--Tough kidneys--How to cook
them--Kidneys _a la_ Roberto Diavolo--Kidneys _a la brochette_--New
bill of fare for London Suppers.
"Hurrah! hurrah! bravo! bravo!" For a few minutes rounds of applause and
shouts of laughter from the juveniles were heard and loudly re-echoed
throughout the vast cupola of Old Drury, sending home the delighted
spectators, in fits of sneezing and coughing, through a variegated
atmosphere. Sir Henry W----, turning to me, exclaimed, "Hallo, Mr.
Soyer, the pantomime is over early this evening!" and looking at his
watch, continued, "Why, it is only half-past eleven o'clock."
"Yes, Sir Henry; but quite late enough for children, who after this time
begin to mingle gaping with laughter."
"True enough," replied Sir Henry; "it is painful to see those dear
cherubs kept at the theatre till midnight, or even later. Have you been
long here?"
"No," I replied, "only a few minutes; just time enough to witness the
grand finale, and to hear the screaming and laughter of the children,
which to me is always very amusing."
"Very true, very true; I am of your opinion, and never tire of
children's mirth."
In a few minutes the theatre was nearly emptied of spectators, but still
full of smoke. Considering myself that evening as free as a butterfly on
a spring morning, though unable, like that light-hearted insect, to
flit from flower to flower, I was trying to escape, with the swiftness
of an eel, down the gigantic and crowded staircase, hoping to get off
unobserved, as I had to start early in the morning for the country, when
suddenly a friendly hand pressed me forcibly by the arm. The owner of
the same cried, "Stop! stop! my friend; I have been hunting all over the
theatre for you." I at once recognised an old Devonshire acquaintance,
whom I was indeed much pleased to see, having received a most kind
reception from him at my last visit to that delightful county--so justly
named the garden of England.
"Well, my dear sir," said he, "myself and several acquaintances of yours
are here for a few days, and have ordered a supper this evening at the
'Albion.' We heard you were at Drury Lane, and I have come to ask you to
join us."
"I must say it is very kind of you, Mr. Turner; but you must excuse me,
as I am going as far as St. James's-street, by appointment; besides, I
leave for the country early to-morrow morning. But I shall be happy to
spend to-morrow evening with you and your friends; therefore, I beg you
will apologise for me."
"To-morrow very likely we shall be off again; we only came for a couple
of days, to breathe the London air, and then return."
"I beg your pardon--you mean London fog, not air."
"Why, yes, fog should be the word; but for all that, I love London in
any season; so no excuse--I shall not leave you; you must join us, or
your friend the squire will be greatly disappointed. He came from the
Great Western Hotel this evening on purpose to see you."
Finding it almost impossible to get out of it, and my friend having
promised we should break up early, I accepted, saying, "You must allow
me to go as far as the 'Wellington,' as I have an appointment there; I
will be back in about half-an-hour."
My incredulous country friend would not grant permission till I had
assured him that I would faithfully keep my promise, and return.
This dialogue took place in the entrance of the vestibule, where a
number of ladies and children were waiting--some for their carriages and
broughams, others for those public inconveniences called cabs. This bevy
of beauty and group of children, the pride of young England, seemed to
interest my provincial friend so much, that I had some trouble to get
him out. It was then nearly twelve o'clock. The front steps were also
crowded; the weather was chilly and damp; a thick yellowish fog,
properly mixed with a good portion of soot, formed a shower of black
pearls, which, gracefully descending through the murky air, alighted,
without asking permission, upon the rosy cheeks of unveiled fair dames,
spotting their visages, if not _a la_ Pompadour or _a la_ Watteau, at
least _a la_ Hogarth. A few steps lower we entered a dense crowd--a most
unpicturesque miscellany of individuals, unclassically called, the
London mob. "Mind your pockets," said I to my country friend.
"By Jove, it's too late," said he, feeling in his pocket--"my
handkerchief is gone!"
"Is that all?" I inquired.
"Well, let me see," he observed, feeling again: "yes, thank God! my
watch and purse are quite safe."
"Ah," I continued, laughing, "the old adage which prompts us to thank
God for all things is quite correct; for you are actually thanking Him
for the loss of your handkerchief."
"Not at all," he replied; "I was thanking Him for the safety of my watch
and purse." After a hearty laugh we parted, he going to the "Albion,"
and I to the "Wellington."
On my arrival there, I found that my friend had been and was gone. My
intelligent cabby soon brought me back through the dense atmosphere to
that far-famed temple of Comus, at which crowds of celebrities meet
nightly--some to restore themselves internally, others to sharpen their
wits at that tantalising abode of good cheer. Upon entering, I inquired
of a waiter, a stranger to me, if he could inform me where my six
friends intended to sup.
"Yes, sir, directly." Speaking down the trumpet: "Below! a Welsh rabbit
and fresh toast--two kidneys underdone--scalloped oyster--a chop--two
taters! Look sharp below!" To the barmaid: "Two stouts, miss--one
pale--four brandies hot, two without--one whisky--three gin--pint
sherry--bottle of port!"
"What an intelligent waiter!" thought I, "to have so good a memory."
Having waited till he had given his orders, I again said, "Pray, my fine
fellow, in which room are my friends going to sup? They have a private
room, no doubt?"
"Yes, sir, a private room for two."
"No, not for two--for six."
"Oh! I don't mean that, sir: I want a rump-steak for two," said he;
"stewed tripe for one--three grogs--bottle pale Bass." And off he went
to the coffee-room.
"Plague upon the fellow!" said I to myself.
As the barmaid could not give me any information upon the subject, and I
perceived through a half-opened door on the right-hand side of the bar a
table laid for six, I went in, making sure it was for my friends, and
that they had not yet arrived. Indeed, I had myself returned from my
appointment much sooner than I had expected. I sat down, and was reading
the evening paper, when a waiter came in. "After you | 2,074.062648 |
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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.
The <DW52> Girl Beautiful
THE
<DW52> GIRL
BEAUTIFUL
By
E. AZALIA HACKLEY
Author of "A Guide in Voice Culture" and
"Public School Lessons in Voice Culture."
BURTON PUBLISHING COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI
Copyrighted 1916
By E. Azalia Hackley
Dedication.
To <DW52> women in whom I have faith and to <DW52> children whom I
love, I send this little message.
Foreword.
This volume has been compiled from talks given to girls in
boarding schools. The first talk was given at the Tuskegee Institute at
the request of the Dean of the Girls' Department.
It was an impromptu talk after an hour's notice. Just before the Dean
closed the door to leave me alone with the girls, I repeated my
question, "What shall I talk about?" The reply was, "Tell them anything
you think they should know. They will believe an experienced woman like
you who travels and knows the world and life."
As I looked at the sea of faces, "wanting to know," and as I thought of
all they had to learn, the vastness of all of it almost overpowered me.
"May I sit down, girls? Now, what shall we talk about that is
interesting to every one of you?"
"Would you like to talk about Love--real Love?" "Yes, yes," came the
answer. "Would you like to talk about Beauty--real Beauty?" "Yes! Yes!"
they answered and the chairs were pulled forward. For forty minutes we
had a heart to heart talk. The dean and teachers had perhaps told the
girls the same words, but the message seemed to come more directly to
them from one who had daily contact with the great, busy world.
The talks were very informal and personal and as the girls asked
questions the thought came to me to jot down the points, that similar
talks might be given to the girls in other schools. Then came the
request, "You come so seldom, can you print the talks?" Much of the
talks could not be printed because many of the questions and answers
were personal.
If I had a daughter I would desire that she should know these things and
more, that she might be a beacon light to her home and to the race. As I
have not been blessed with a daughter, I send these thoughts to the
daughters of other <DW52> women, hoping that among them there is some
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E-text prepared by Fritz Ohrenschall, Emmanuel Ackerman, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org).
Missing page images were obtained from HathiTrust Digital Library
(https://www.hathitrust.org/).
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/veiledwomen00pickiala
VEILED WOMEN
by
MARMADUKE PICKTHALL
Author of “Saïd the Fisherman,” etc.
London
Eveleigh Nash
1913
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I 5
CHAPTER II 14
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Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: “CHARLIE”]
BETTER THAN MEN
BY
RUSH C. HAWKINS
J. W. BOUTON
TEN WEST TWENTY-EIGHT STREET
NEW YORK
1896
Copyright, 1896, by
J. W. Bouton
TO MY BELOVED AND LOVING WIFE, EVER FAITHFUL AND TRUE, WHOSE GOODNESS
PASSETH ALL UNDERSTANDING
CONTENTS
Explanatory 1
The Excursion 13
Tim, the Dissipated 91
Carlo, the Soldier 113
Jeff, the Inquisitive 127
Toby, the Wise 139
Two Dogs 149
Two Innocents Abroad 165
About Columbus, by an old showman 171
In Relation to Mysteries 187
Mysteries 195
EXPLANATORY
The title chosen for the following sketches, written for the purpose of
presenting certain prominent characteristics of the lower animals worthy
of the attention of the human animal, stands for rather a serious
proposition which may be questioned by a majority of those readers whose
kindly interest in our mute friends has not already been seriously
awakened.
To write so that those who read may infer that a certain selected number
of so-called lower animals are better, by nature and conduct, in certain
elemental virtues, than men, is, to say the least, rather imprudent, and
to the optimistic student of human nature may appear irreverent to an
unpardonable degree. Usually, to the minds of such observers, humanity
is accepted for its traditional value, regardless of established
conditions or inherent actualities. Such investigators investigate only
one side of their subject. They start out handicapped with the old
theory that in every respect the human animal is superior to every
other, without attempting to analyze unseen interior conditions, whether
natural or developed.
In relation to natural conditions, the large majority of Christian sects
are perfectly logical. They lay down as a clearly established
fundamental fact that all human beings, owing to what they designate as
Adam’s fall, are born into this world morally corrupt and completely
depraved, but that they have within their control for ready application
an appropriate panacea for a certain cure of these natural defects. But
the optimist neither admits the disease nor the necessity for cure; he
says always, at least inferentially, that all human beings come into the
world in a state of innocence and purity, and that their few defects
represent a certain amount of degeneration.
Both of these theories may be wrong. It is possible that all children
come into the world with a certain number of well-known natural
qualities—good, bad, strong, and weak—in no two alike, and for which
they are in no way responsible; and that what they become in their
mature years depends largely, if not entirely, upon home training and
the care bestowed upon them by the government under whose laws they
exist. Strong, healthy, intellectual, and moral parents, aided by a wise
and honestly administered government, assist each other in forming
characters which make fine men and women. But without the combination of
those parental qualities ever actively engaged in instructing and
controlling, sustained by a wise political organization, there is
usually but little development of the higher and better qualities of our
nature, either moral or intellectual.
It is at this point that we may be permitted to cite the difference
between the so-called upper and lower animal. In the dog and horse,
notably, their better qualities are inherent, born with them, grow
stronger with time, and their almost perfect and complete development is
natural, and continues without aid, example, or instruction. Not more
than one dog or horse in a thousand, if kindly treated and left to
himself, would turn out vicious, and treat them as we may, no matter how
unjustly or cruelly, we can never deprive them of their perfect
integrity and splendid qualities of loyalty to master and friends.
These most valuable of all moral qualities are natural to certain
animals, and, no matter what man may do, they can never be extinguished.
Although intangible, they are as much parts of the living organism of
the horse and dog as are their eyes or the other organs needed for
physical purposes. The affection of the dog for those whom he loves is
actually boundless. It has neither taint of selfishness nor has it
limits, and it can only be extinguished with the loss of life. The
ever-willing horse will run himself to death to carry from danger, and
especially from the pursuit of enemies, those who make use of his
friendly aid. Other animals will do as much, but they never volunteer
for a dangerous service.
In India, where the elephant is used for domestic purposes and is
sometimes treated as a domestic animal, he has been known to protect
children left in his charge, and in the performance of his daily task
will yield willing obedience to orders; but he is a knowing and cautious
constructionist, and seldom goes outside of the strict line of duty. He
will always fight for his own master or friends when told, and sometimes
volunteers to encounter a danger to protect those around him who seek
the aid of his superior powers. He is however, a natural conservative,
and prefers peace to war.
Many other animals are capable of becoming affectionate pets and
interesting companions, but in no respect can they be compared with the
dog, the horse, or the elephant. In their separate and individual
combination of qualities which render them fit and useful companions for
man, they stand quite by themselves. The question of treating animals
with kindly consideration is usually disposed of by saying they are not
capable of appreciating kind treatment; that their brain capacity is so
limited in respect to quantity as to render them quite incapable of
distinguishing active kindness from passive indifference or even cruel
treatment.
This is the theory of the thoughtless.
The Newfoundland dog which, in the summer of 1866, I saw leap from a
bridge into a rapid-running deep creek and rescue a two-year-old child
from death, thought—and quickly at that. In a second he appreciated the
value of a critical moment, and estimated not only the magnitude but the
quality of the danger. No human being could have taken in the whole
situation more completely or caused the physical organization to respond
to the brain command with greater celerity. The whole incident was over
by the time the first on the spot of the would-be human rescuers had
taken off his coat.
Crowley, the remarkable chimpanzee, who had his home in the Central Park
Menagerie for about four years, proved to be a most convincing item of
testimony in favor of the intellectual development of one of the lower
animals. The gradual and certain unfolding of his intelligence betrayed
the presence of a quantity of natural brainpower almost equal to that of
an intelligent child of his own age.
Among his numerous accomplishments was a complete outfit of the table
manners of the average well-bred human being. His accurate holding of
knife, fork, and spoon, his perfect knowledge of their use, and the
delicate application to his lips of the napkin, proved the possession of
exceptional knowledge and | 2,074.367551 |
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Produced by Al Haines
CHINESE FOLK-LORE TALES
BY
REV. J. MACGOWAN, D.D.
[Transcriber's note: the original book from which
this etext was prepared was missing pages 3 and 4,
and 13 and 14.]
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1910
GLASGOW: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD.
CONTENTS
I. THE WIDOW HO
II. KWANG-JUI AND THE GOD OF THE RIVER
III. THE BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF LIU-KUNG
IV. THE FAIRY BONZE
V. THE MYSTERIOUS BUDDHIST ROBE
VI. THE VENGEANCE OF THE GODDESS
VII. "THE WONDERFUL MAN"
VIII. THE GOD OF THE CITY
IX. THE TRAGEDY OF THE YIN FAMILY
X. SAM-CHUNG AND THE WATER DEMON
XI. THE REWARD OF A BENEVOLENT LIFE
I
THE WIDOW HO
One day in the early dawn, a distinguished mandarin was leaving the
temple of the City God. It was his duty to visit this temple on the
first and fifteenth of the moon, whilst the city was still asleep, to
offer incense and | 2,074.36846 |
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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
A number of printer's errors have been corrected. However, most
spelling variants are left as printed, except where the likelihood
of an error seems strong; (e.g. emcamped/encamped, ryhme/rhyme).
Consult the Notes at the end of this text for specific corrections.
Schoolcraft renders Indian language in English characters using his
own conventions. Therefore, the printed spelling of these words has
been observed as printed, with only several exceptions, where it
seems very clear from adjacent spellings that there have been
printer's errors. The figure 8 is set horizontally to represent a
phonetic sound. In this text these characters are simulated by [oo]
and [OO] for lower- and upper-case. The 'oe' ligature is rendered
as [oe] in transliteration but simply 'oe' elsewhere ('aesofoedita',
'manoeuvre').
The text of pages 286 and 287 are printed in reverse order.
Although pagination is continuous, there is at least one page of
text missing before the text beginning on p. 288. At p. 300, the
text again ends abruptly, with a new section beginning on p. 301.
THE INDIAN IN HIS WIGWAM,
OR
CHARACTERISTICS
OF THE
RED RACE OF AMERICA
FROM ORIGINAL NOTES AND MANUSCRIPTS.
BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,
Memb. Royal Geographical Society of London, and of the Royal Society
of Northern Antiquaries, Copenhagen; Hon. Memb. of the Natural
History Society of Montreal, Canada East; Memb. of the American
Philosophical Society, Philadelphia; of the American Antiquarian
Society, Worcester; of the American Geological Society, New Haven;
Vice-President of the American Ethnological Society, New York; Hon.
Memb. of the New York Historical Society; Hon. Memb. of the
Historical Society of Georgia; President of the Michigan Historical
Society; and Hon. Memb. of the Ohio Historical and Philosophical
Society; Cor. Memb. of the New York Lyceum of Natural History, and
of the Lyceums of Natural History of Troy and Hudson, N. Y.; Memb of
the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia; of the Albany
Institute at the State Capitol, Albany, and a Res. Memb. of the
National Institute at Washington; President of the Algic Society for
meliorating the condition of the Native Race in the United States,
instituted in 1831; Hon. Memb. of the Goethean and of the Philo L.
Collegiate Societies of Pennsylvania, &c. &c.
BUFFALO:
DERBY & HEWSON, PUBLISHERS.
AUBURN--DERBY, MILLER & CO.
1848.
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.
It is now twenty-six years since I first entered the area of the
Mississippi valley, with the view of exploring its then but imperfectly
known features, geographical and geological. Twenty-two years of this
period have elapsed since I entered on the duties of an Executive Agent
for the United States Government in its higher northern latitudes among
the Indian tribes in the west. Having devoted so large a portion of my
life in an active sphere, in which the intervals of travel left me
favourable opportunities of pursuing the languages and history of this
branch of the race, it appears to be a just expectation, that, in
sitting down to give some account of this people, there should be some
preliminary remarks, to apprise the reader how and why it is, that his
attention is recalled to a topic which he may have supposed to be well
nigh exhausted. This it is proposed to do by some brief personal
reminiscences, beginning at the time above alluded to.
The year 1814 constituted a crisis, not only in our political history,
but also in our commercial, manufacturing, and industrial interests. The
treaty of Ghent, which put a period to the war with England, was a
blessing to many individuals and classes in America: but, in its
consequences, it had no small share of the effects of a curse upon that
class of citizens who were engaged in certain branches of manufactures.
It was a peculiarity of the crisis, that these persons had been
stimulated by double motives, to invest their capital and skill in the
perfecting and establishment of the manufactories referred to, by the
actual wants of the country and the high prices of the foreign articles.
No pains and no cost had been spared, by many of them, to supply this
demand; and it was another result of the times, that no sooner had they
got well established, and were in the high road of prosperity than the
peace came and plunged them headlong from the pinnacle of success. This
blow fell heavier upon some branches than others. It was most fatal to
those manufacturers who had undertaken to produce fabrics of the highest
order, or which belong to an advanced state of the manufacturing
prosperity of a nation. Be this as it may, however, it fell with
crushing force upon that branch in which I was engaged. As soon as the
American ports were opened to these fabrics, the foreign makers who
could undersell us, poured in cargo on cargo; and when the first demands
had been met, these cargoes were ordered to be sold at auction; the
prices immediately fell to the lowest point, and the men who had staked
in one enterprise their zeal, skill and money, were ruined at a blow.
Every man in such a crisis, must mentally recoil upon himself. Habits
of application, reading, and an early desire to be useful, had sustained
me at a prior period of life, through the dangers and fascinations of
jovial company. There was in this habit or temper of room-seclusion, a
pleasing resource of a conservative character, which had filled up the
intervals of my busiest hours; and when business itself came to a stand,
it had the effect to aid me in balancing and poising my mind, while I
prepared to enter a wider field, and indeed, to change my whole plan of
life. If it did not foster a spirit of right thought and
self-dependence, it, at least, gave a degree of tranquillity to the
intervals of a marked pause, and, perhaps, flattered the ability to act.
Luckily I was still young, and with good animal spirits, and a sound
constitution I resolved I would not go down so. The result of seven
years of strenuous exertions, applied with persevering diligence and
success, was cast to the winds, but it was seven years of a young man's
life, and I thought it could be repaired by time and industry. What the
east withheld, I hoped might be supplied by another quarter. I turned my
thoughts to the west, and diligently read all I could find on the
subject. The result of the war of 1812, (if this contest had brought no
golden showers on American manufacturers, as I could honestly testify in
my own case,) had opened to emigration and enterprise the great area
west of the Alleghanies. The armies sent out to battle with Indian, and
other foes, on the banks of the Wabash, the Illinois, the Detroit, the
Raisin and the Miami of the Lakes, had opened to observation attractive
scenes for settlement; and the sword was no sooner cast aside, than
emigrants seized hold of the axe and the plough. This result was worth
the cost of the whole contest, honour and glory included. The total
prostration of the moneyed system of the country, the effects of
city-lot and other land speculations, while the system was at its full
flow, and the very backward seasons of 1816 and 1817, attended with late
and early frosts, which extensively destroyed the corn crop in the
Atlantic states, all lent their aid in turning attention towards the
west and south-west, where seven new states have been peopled and
organized, within the brief period to which these reminiscences apply:
namely, Indiana, Illinois, Mississippi, Missouri, Alabama, Arkansas and
Michigan, besides the flourishing territories of Wisconsin and Iowa, and
the more slowly advancing territory of Florida. It appeared to me, that
information, geographical and other, of such a wide and varied region,
whose boundaries were but ill defined, must be interesting at such a
period; and I was not without the hope | 2,074.45646 |
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Produced by David Edwards, Martin Mayer, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Transcribers’ notes are placed after the text.]
[Illustration: CARL DISCOVERS THE INDIAN HORSE THIEVES.]
CARL
THE TRAILER
BY
HARRY CASTLEMON
AUTHOR OF “THE GUNBOAT SERIES,” “ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES,”
“WAR SERIES,” ETC.
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.,
PHILADELPHIA,
CHICAGO, TORONTO.
COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY
HENRY T. COATES & CO.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. GETTING READY FOR THE HUNT, 1
II. CARL, THE TRAILER, 14
III. THE GHOST DANCE, 27
IV. THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN, 40
V. REINFORCEMENTS, 53
VI. DISPATCHES, 65
VII. GOING IN, 78
VIII. COMING OUT, 91
IX. STILL IN THE SADDLE, 104
X. THE SQUAWMAN’S PROPOSITION, 116
XI. THE INDIAN POLICEMAN, 129
XII. MORE COURIERS, 142
XIII. THE END OF SITTING BULL, 155
XIV. AN INTERVIEW IN THE WOODS, 170
XV. FIVE YEARS BEFORE, 182
XVI. WHAT CLAUDE KNEW, 195
XVII. THE PLAN DISCUSSED, 207
XVIII. “THEY’RE IN THE OFFICE!” 220
XIX. A TALK WITH HIS UNCLE, 233
XX. A NEW PLAN, 245
XXI. THE TRIP TO ST. LOUIS, 258
XXII. A SURPRISE, 270
XXIII. CLAUDE VISITS THE POOL ROOM, 285
XXIV. A HARD FIGHT, 298
XXV. A BLOW FOR NOTHING, 310
XXVI. THE NEW SCOUT, 323
XXVII. OFF TO THE FRONT, 329
XXVIII. GETTING READY FOR THE FIGHT, 342
XXIX. THE BATTLE OF WOUNDED KNEE, 354
XXX. OFF FOR HOME, 367
XXXI. CONCLUSION, 381
List of Illustrations
Illustration Page
Carl discovers the Indian horse thieves. _frontispiece_
Carl captured by the squawman. 118
The Robbers foiled. 234
All their labor for nothing. 308
CARL, THE TRAILER.
CHAPTER I.
GETTING READY FOR THE HUNT.
“So you are nearly out of fresh meat, are you? Do your men get that way
often?”
“Yes, sir. These Pawnee scouts can’t eat like white men. When they have
any fresh meat on hand they eat all they can, and when it is gone they
look to us for more.”
“Well, I suppose I shall have to send an officer out after some. I
think I will try Lieutenant Parker. He has been a pretty good young
officer since he has been out here, and perhaps it will do him some
good to get a little exercise. Orderly, send Parker here.”
This conversation took place between Col. Dodge, the commander of
a small fort situated on the outskirts of the Standing Rock Agency,
and his commissary, who had come in to report the condition of the
garrison in regard to supplies. There was plenty of everything except
fresh meat, and their Pawnee scouts were already grumbling over their
diminished supply. Their commander must send out and get some more.
Game of all kinds was abundant a short distance back in the mountains,
but it was a little dangerous to send a body of troops out there.
Something out of the usual order of things had happened within a few
miles of Fort Scott, and there was every indication that Sitting
Bull, who had settled down at Standing Rock Agency since he came from
Canada, was trying to set his braves against the whites and drive them
from the country. The thing which started this trouble was the Ghost
Dance—something more of which we shall hear further on.
The orderly disappeared, and presently a quick step sounded in the
hall, the door opened, and Lieutenant Parker entered.
It was no wonder that this young officer had proved himself a good
soldier, for he came from West Point, and it was plain that he could
not be otherwise. To begin with, he was handsome above most men of his
rank, with a well-knit figure, and eyes that looked straight into your
own when he was speaking to you. He stood among the first five in his
class, and upon graduation received his appointment to the —th Cavalry
at Fort Scott. Of course he found army life dull, compared with the
life he had led at the Point, but that made no difference to him. If he
lived he would in process of time become a major-general, and that was
what he was working for. He first saluted the colonel, then removed his
cap and waited for him to speak.
“Well, Parker, you find this army life slow, don’t you?” said he.
“Sometimes, sir,” said the lieutenant with a smile. “One does not get
much chance to stir around.”
“You know the reason for it, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir. Sitting Bull is going to make trouble.”
“He has not made any trouble yet, and I propose to send you out in the
presence of all his warriors.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Parker.
Most young officers would have opened their eyes when they heard this,
but it did not seem to affect Lieutenant Parker one way or the other.
He knew his commander had some good reason for it, and with that he was
satisfied.
“Yes,” continued the colonel, “I propose to give you command of a dozen
men, including a sergeant, two corporals, two wagons and a guide, and
send you into the mountains after some fresh meat. We got some only a
little while ago, but the Pawnee scouts have eaten it all up.”
Lieutenant Parker grew interested at once. He was a pretty fair shot
for a boy of his age, and had brought his Winchester from the States,
together with a fine horse that his father had given him; but he put
his rifle upon some pegs in his room, and there it had remained ever
since he had been at the fort. He looked at it once in a while and said
to his room-mate:
“That Winchester can rust itself out before I will have a chance to use
it. I was in hopes I should have a chance to try it on a buffalo before
this time.”
“It seems to me that you have not read the papers very closely,” said
Lieutenant Randolph, “or you would have found out that the buffalo have
all but disappeared. There is only one small herd left, and they are in
Yellowstone Park, where they are protected by law.”
“But there are antelope on the plains,” said Parker.
“Yes, and maybe you will have a chance at them by the time old Sitting
Bull gets over his antics. It won’t do for a small company of men to go
out on the plains now. The Sioux are too active.”
“Well, the colonel knows best,” said Parker with a sigh. “I have asked
him twice to let me go out but he has always refused me, and now I
shall not ask him again.”
But now the colonel seemed to have thought better of it, and was going
to send him out to try his skill on some of the big game that was
always to be found in the foothills. He was delighted to hear it, and
his delight showed itself in his face.
“Do you think you can get some meat for us?” asked the colonel with a
smile. “You appear to think that you are going to have an easy time of
it.”
“No, sir; I suppose we shall have a hard time in getting what we want;
but if you can give me a guide who will show me where the game is, I
believe I will have some for you when I come back.”
“How will Carl, the Trailer, do you?”
“I don’t know, sir. I have often seen him about the fort, but have
never spoken to him.”
“We will put two boys at the head of the expedition, and see how they
will come out with the captain who went out two weeks ago,” said the
colonel, turning to his commissary. “Sit down, Parker. Orderly, tell
Carl, the Trailer, that I want to see him.”
The orderly opened the door and went out, and Lieutenant Parker took
the chair | 2,074.45649 |
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Produced by Linda M. Everhart, Blairstown, Missouri
DEADFALLS AND SNARES
[Frontispiece: A GOOD DEADFALL.]
DEADFALLS AND SNARES
A Book of Instruction for Trappers
About These and Other
Home-Made Traps
Edited by
A. R. HARDING
Published by
A. R. HARDING, Publisher
106 Walnut Street
St. Louis, Mo.
Copyright 1907
By A. R. HARDING
CONTENTS.
I. Building Deadfalls
II. Bear and <DW53> Deadfall
III. Otter Deadfall
IV. Marten Deadfall
V. Stone Deadfall
VI. The Bear Pen
VII. Portable Traps
VIII. Some Triggers
IX. Trip Triggers
X. How to Set
XI. When to Build
XII. Where to Build
XIII. The Proper Bait
XIV. Traps Knocked Off
XV. Spring Pole Snare
XVI. Trail Set Snare
XVII. Bait Set Snare
XVIII. The Box Trap
XIX. The Coop Trap
XX. The Pit Trap
XXI. Number of Traps
XXII. When to Trap
XXIII. Season's Catch
XXIV. General Information
XXV. Skinning and Stretching
XXVI. Handling and Grading
XXVII. From Animal to Market
XXVIII. Steel Traps
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
A Good Deadfall
The Pole Deadfall
Small Animal Fall
The Pinch Head
Board or Pole Trap
Bait Set Deadfall
Trail Set Deadfall
Bear or <DW53> Deadfall
Otter Deadfall
Marten Deadfall
Marten Trap Triggers
Another Marten Deadfall
High Built Marten Deadfall
Tree Deadfall
More Marten Trap Triggers
Flat Stone Trap
Stone Deadfall Triggers
The Invitation--Skunk
Killed Without Scenting
Right and Wrong Way
Bear Pen Trap
Bear Entering Pen
Den Set Deadfall
Portable Wooden Trap
The Block Trap
The Nox-Em-All Deadfall
Illinois Trapper's Triggers
Trip Triggers
Animal Entering Trip Deadfall
Trip Trigger Fall
Canadian Trip Fall
The Turn Trigger
Two Piece Trigger Trap
String and Trigger Trap
Trail or Den Trap
Spring Pole and Snare
Small Game Snare
Wire or Twine Snare
Snare Loop
Path Set Snare
Trip Pan or Plate
Double Trail Set
Trail Set Snares
Path Snare
Rat Runway Snare
Underground Rat Runway
Runway and Cubby Set
Log Set Snare
Cow Path Snare
Lifting Pole Snare
Bait Set Snare
The Box Trap
The Coop Trap
The Pit Trap
A Good Catcher
Single and Three Board Stretcher
Some Stretching Patterns
Dakota Trappers Method
Holder for Skinning
Wire <DW53> Method
Wire and Twig <DW53> Method
Size of Stretching Boards
Pole Stretchers
Fleshing Board
Stretching Frame
Skin on Stretcher
Hoop Stretcher
Small Steel Traps
No. 81 or Web Jaw Trap
No. 91 or Double Jaw Trap
Mink and Fox Traps
Otter and Beaver Traps
Otter Traps with Teeth
Otter Trap without Teeth
Offset Jaw Beaver Trap
Clutch Detachable Trap
Newhouse Wolf Trap
Small Bear Trap
Small Bear Trap with Offset Jaw
Black Bear Trap
Regular Bear Trap with Offset Jaws
Grizzly Bear Trap
Bear Chain Clevis
Steel Trap Setting Clamp
[Illustration: A. R. HARDING.]
INTRODUCTION.
Scattered from the Arctic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico and from the
Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean are thousands of trappers who use
deadfalls, snares and other home-made traps, but within this vast
territory there are many thousand who know little or nothing of them.
The best and most successful trappers are those of extended
experience. Building deadfalls and constructing snares, as told on
the following pages, will be of value to trappers located where
material--saplings, poles, boards, rocks, etc.--is to be had for
constructing. The many traps described cannot all be used to
advantage in any section, but some of them can.
More than sixty illustrations are used to enable the beginner to
better understand the constructing and workings of home-made traps.
The illustrations are mainly furnished by the "old timers."
Chapters on Skinning and Stretching, Handling and Grading are added
for the correct handling of skins and furs adds largely to their
commercial value.
A. R. Harding.
DEADFALLS AND SNARES
CHAPTER I.
BUILDING DEADFALLS.
During the centuries that trapping has been carried on, not only in
America, but thruout the entire world, various kinds of traps and
snares have been in use and taken by all classes of trappers and in
all sections the home-made traps are of great numbers. The number of
furs caught each year is large.
The above was said by a trapper some years ago who has spent upwards
of forty years in the forests and is well acquainted with traps,
trappers and fur-bearing animals. Whether the statement is true or
not, matters but little, altho one thing is certain and that is that
many of the men who have spent years in trapping and have been
successful use the deadfalls and snares as well as steel traps.
Another trapper says: In my opinion trapping is an art and any
trapper that is not able to make and set a deadfall, when occasion
demands, does not belong to the profession. I will give a few of the
many reasons why dead falls are good.
1. There is no weight to carry.
2. Many of the best trappers use them.
3. It requires no capital to set a line of deadfalls.
4. There is no loss of traps by trap thieves, but the fur is in as
much danger.
5. Deadfalls do not mangle animals or injure their fur.
6. It is a humane way of killing animals.
7. There is no loss by animals twisting off a foot or leg and getting
away.
8. Animals are killed outright, having no chance to warn others of
their kind by their cries from being caught.
9. Trappers always have the necessary outfit (axe and knife) with
them to make and set a deadfall that will kill the largest animals.
10. The largest deadfalls can be made to spring easy and catch small
game if required.
11. Deadfalls will kill skunk without leaving any scent.
12. Deadfalls are cheap and trappers should be familiar with them.
It is a safe proposition, however, that not one-half of the trappers
of today can build a deadfall properly or know how to make snares,
and many of them have not so much as seen one.
First a little pen about a foot square is built of stones, chunks, or
by driving stakes close together, leaving one side open. The stakes
should be cut about thirty inches long and driven into the ground
some fourteen inches, leaving sixteen or thereabout above the ground.
Of course if the earth is very solid, stakes need not be so long, but
should be so driven that only about sixteen inches remain above
ground. A sapling say four inches in diameter and four feet long is
laid across the end that is open. A sapling that is four, five or six
inches in diameter, owing to what you are trapping for, and about
twelve feet long, is now cut for the "fall." Stakes are set so that
this pole or fall will play over the short pole on the ground. These
stakes should be driven in pairs; two about eighteen inches from the
end; two about fourteen farther back. (See illustration.)
[Illustration: THE POLE DEADFALL.]
The small end of the pole should be split and a small but stout stake
driven firmly thru it so there will be no danger of the pole turning
and "going off" of its own accord. The trap is set by placing the
prop (which is only seven inches in length and half an inch thru)
between the top log and the short one on the ground, to which is
attached the long trigger, which is only a stick about the size of
the prop, but about twice as long, the baited end of which extends
back into the little pen.
The bait may consist of a piece of chicken, rabbit or any tough bit
of meat so long as it is fresh and the bloodier the better. An animal
on scenting the bait will reach into the trap--the top of the pen
having been carefully covered over--between the logs. When the animal
seizes the bait the long trigger is pulled off of the upright prop
and down comes the fall, killing the animal by its weight. Skunk,
<DW53>, opossum, mink and in fact nearly all kinds of animals are
easily caught in this trap. The fox is an exception, as it is rather
hard to catch them in deadfalls.
The more care that you take to build the pen tight and strong, the
less liable is some animal to tear it down and get bait from the
outside; also if you will cover the pen with leaves, grass, sticks,
etc., animals will not be so shy of the trap. The triggers are very
simple, the long one being placed on top of the upright, or short
one. The long triggers should have a short prong left or a nail
driven in it to prevent the game from getting the bait off too easy.
If you find it hard to get saplings the right size for a fall, and
are too light, they can be weighted with a pole laid on the "fall."
[Illustration: SMALL ANIMAL FALL.]
I will try and give directions and drawing of deadfalls which I have
used to some extent for years, writes a Maine trapper, and can say
that most all animals can be captured in them as shown in
illustration. You will see the deadfall is constructed of stakes and
rocks and is made as follows: Select a place where there is game; you
need an axe, some nails, also strong string, a pole four inches or
more in diameter. Notice the cut No. 1 being the drop pole which
should be about six to seven feet long. No. 2 is the trip stick, No.
3 is string tied to pole and trip stick, No. 4 is the stakes for
holding up the weight, No. 5 is the small stakes driven around in the
shape of letter U, should be one foot wide and two feet long. No. 6
is the rocks, No. 7 is the bait.
Now this is a great trap for taking skunk and is soon built where
there are small saplings and rocks. This trap is also used for mink
and <DW53>.
* * *
The trapper's success depends entirely upon his skill and no one can
expect the best returns unless his work is skillfully done. Do not
Attempt to make that deadfall unless you are certain that you can
make it right and do not leave it till you are certain that it could
not be any better made. I have seen deadfalls so poorly made and
improperly set that they would make angels weep, neither were they
located where game was apt to travel. The deadfall if made right and
located where game frequents is quite successful.
Another thing, boys, think out every little plan before you attempt
it. If so and so sets his traps one way, see if you can't improve on
his plan and make it a little better. Do not rush blindly into any
new scheme, But look at it on all sides and make yourself well
acquainted with the merits and drawbacks of it. Make good use of your
brains, for the animal instinct is its only protection and it is only
by making good use of your reasoning powers that you can fool him.
Experience may cost money sometimes and loss of patience and temper,
but in my estimation it is the trapper's best capital. An old
trapper who has a couple of traps and lots of experience will catch
more fur than the greenhorn with a complete outfit. Knowledge is
power in trapping as in all other trades.
This is the old reliable "pinch-head." The picture does not show the
cover, so I will describe it. Get some short pieces of board or short
poles and lay them on the stones in the back part of the pen and on
the raised stick in front. Lay them close together so the animal
cannot crawl in at the top. Then get some heavy stones and lay them
on the cover to weight down and throw some dead weeds and grass over
the pen and triggers and your trap is complete. When the animal tries
to enter and sets off the trap by pressing against the long trigger
in front, he brings the weighted pole down in the middle of his back,
which soon stops his earthly career.
[Illustration: THE PINCH HEAD.]
This deadfall can also be used at runways without bait. No pen or
bait is required. The game will be caught coming from either
direction. The trap is "thrown | 2,074.471805 |
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produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
The Missioner
BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
Author of "Anna, the Adventuress," "A Prince of
Sinners," "The Master Mummer," etc.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
BY FRED PEGRAM
A. L. BURT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1907,_
BY THE PEARSON PUBLISHING COMPANY.
_Copyright, 1907,_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved._
| 2,074.555998 |
2023-11-16 18:51:38.6610580 | 1,862 | 209 |
Produced by David Clarke, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Wilson's
Tales of the Borders
AND OF SCOTLAND.
HISTORICAL, TRADITIONARY, & IMAGINATIVE.
WITH A GLOSSARY.
REVISED BY
ALEXANDER LEIGHTON,
_One of the Original Editors and Contributors._
VOL. XX.
LONDON:
WALTER SCOTT, 14 PATERNOSTER SQUARE,
AND NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE.
1884.
CONTENTS.
THE DOMINIE OF ST FILLAN'S, (_Alexander Leighton_) 1
SAYINGS AND DOINGS OF PETER PATERSON, (_John Mackay Wilson_) 34
THE HEROINE: A LEGEND OF THE CANONGATE, (_Alexander Leighton_) 66
THE BARLEY BANNOCK, (_Alexander Campbell_) 93
GLEANINGS OF THE COVENANT, (_Professor Thomas Gillespie_)--
xx. JOHN GOVAN'S NARRATIVE 111
xxi. "OLD BLUNTIE" 120
xxii. THOMAS HARKNESS OF LOCKERBEN 124
xxiii. THE SHOES REVERSED 132
THE LOST HEIR OF THE HOUSE OF ELPHINSTONE, (_Rev. G. Thomson_) 143
TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS, (_John Mackay Wilson_) 194
THE MISER OF NEWABBEY, (_Alexander Leighton_) 226
THE SEA SKIRMISH, (_Anon._) 258
WILSON'S
TALES OF THE BORDERS,
AND OF SCOTLAND.
THE DOMINIE OF ST FILLAN'S.
CHAPTER I.
PLEASANT REMINISCENCES OF MY FATHER.
It is now about twenty years sin' I first raised my voice in the desk o'
the kirk o' St Fillan's, in the parish o' that name, and He wha out o'
the mouths o' babes and sucklins did ordain praise, hath never thought
meet, by means o' ony catarrh, cynanche, quinsy, toothache, or lock-jaw,
to close up my mouth, and prevent me frae leadin the congregation in a
clear, melodious strain, to the worship o' the Chief Musician. When I
was ordained session clerk, schoolmaster, and precentor, I had already
passed about thirty years o' my pilgrimage; yet filled wi' Latin and
Greek, till my _pia mater_ was absolutely like to burst, I had,
notwithstanding, nae trade by the hand. The reason was this. My father,
who had been for forty years sexton o' the parish, had seen, wi' an e'e
lang practised in searchin for traces o' death in the faces o'
parishioners--for the labourer maun live by his hire, and the merchant
by his customers, "and thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands"--a
pleasant leucophlegmatic tinge about the gills o' Jedediah Cameron, my
predecessor in the three offices already mentioned. Weel, as the
husbandman in dry weather, when his fields are parched, and his braird
thin and weak, watches the clouds that contain rain--mair precious to
him than the ointment that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's dry
beard--my guid father watched the dropsical signs or indications in
Jedediah's face, daily and hourly, in the fair and legitimate hope o'
gettin the aridity o' my starvin condition quenched and satisfied. He
was an argute sexton, and had learned, in his younger days, some
smatterin o' Latin, though I never could ascertain that he retained more
of the humane lear, than the twa proverbs, "_Vita mortalium
brevis_," "Life is short," which comes originally frae Homer;
and "_Pecuniae obediunt omnia_," which comes frae the sixth chapter
o' Ecclesiastes--"Money answereth all things."
But my father was never contented wi' his ain _prognosis_. His ain ee
for death was as gleg as that o' the hawk for its quarry; but the
glegness wasna a mere junction or combination o' a keen and praiseworthy
desire to live, and a lang experience o' lookin for death in ithers; he
had science to guide him; he knew a' the Latin names comprehended in Dr
Cullen's "Nosology;" an' Buchan's "Domestic Medicine" was scarcely ever
out o' his hands, except when there was a spade in them. I hae the auld,
thumed, and faulded, and marked copy o' our domestic AEsculapius yet;
and, as I look at the store from which he used to draw the lore that
enabled him to see, as if by a kind o' necromantic divination, a guid
lucrative death, though still lodged in the wame o' futurity, I canna
but drap a tear to the memory o' ane wha toiled sae hard for the sake o'
his son. But I examine the book, sometimes, in a mair philosophic
way--to mark the train o' my auld parent's mind, as he had perused his
text-book; for it was his practice, when he saw ony o' the parishioners
exhibiting favourable symptoms--such as a hard, dry cough, puffed legs,
white liver lips, or even some o' the mair dubious indications, such as
a pale cheek, spare body, drooping head, difficulty in walking, morbid
appetite, or bulimia, the _delirium tremens_ o' dram-drinkers, the
yellow o' the white o' the ee o' hypochondriacs, and the like--to search
in Buchan for the diseases portended by thae appearances, and, when he
was sure he had caught them, to draw a pencil stroke along the margin
opposite to the pleasantest parts o' the doctor's descriptions. I never
saw mony marks opposite the common and innocuous complaints--_cholica_,
or pain in the stamach; _catarrhs_, or cauld; _arthritis_, or gout;
_rheumatismus_, or rheumatism; _odontalgia_, or toothache; and sae
forth: thae were beneath his notice. Neither did I ever observe ony
marks o' attention to what are called prophylactics, or remedies, to
prevent diseases comin on: thae nostrums he plainly despised. But, sae
far as I could discover, he had a very marked abhorrence o' what the
doctors ca' therapeutics, or means and processes o' curin diseases, and
keepin awa death; and as for what are denominated _specifics_, or
infallible remedies, he wouldna hear o' them ava--showin his despite o'
them by the exclamation--"Psha!" scribbled with contemptuous haste on
the margin. The soul and marrow o' the book to the guid man--bless
him!--were the mortal symptoms--the _facies Hippocraticus_, the
Hippocratic face; the _raucitus mortis_, or rattle in the throat;
_subsultus tendinum_, or twitching o' the hands and fingers; the glazing
o' the ee, and the stoppin o' the breath, and the like o' thae serious
signs and appearances. A strong, determined stroke o' the pencil marked
his attention to and interest in the Doctor's touchin account o' thae
turns o' the spindle wharby the thread o' our existence is wound up for
ever. It may be easily and safely supposed, that the melancholy words,
descriptive o' the oncome o' the grim tyrant himsel--"_and death closes
the tragic scene_"--sae touchingly and feelingly introduced by the
eloquent author werena lost on my respectit parent.
Guid man as he was, however, (I shall return presently to his study o'
my predecessor's dropsy,) | 2,074.681098 |
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Produced by Annie R. McGuire
[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE]
* * * * *
VOL. II.--NO. 102. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.
Tuesday, October 11, 1881. Copyright, 1881, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50
per year, in Advance.
* * * * *
[Illustration: ISAAC NEWTON AT THE AGE OF TWELVE.]
NEWTON'S CHILDHOOD.
Sir Isaac Newton is the greatest of modern philosophers and mechanics.
When he was born, December 25, 1642, three months after his father's
death, he was so small and feeble that no one supposed he would live a
day; but the weak infant grew to be a healthy, robust man, who lived
until he was eighty-four years old. He began to invent or contrive
machines and to show his taste for mechanics in early childhood. He
inherited some property from his father, and his mother, who had married
a second time, sent him to the best schools, and to the University of
Cambridge. At school he soon showed his natural taste; he amused himself
with little saws, hatchets, hammers, and different tools, and when his
companions were at play spent his time in making machines and toys. He
made a wooden clock when he was twelve years old, and the model of a
windmill, and in his mill he put a mouse, which he called his miller,
and which turned the wheels by running around its cage. He made a
water-clock four feet high, and a cart with four wheels, not unlike a
velocipede, in which he could drive himself by turning a windlass.
His love of mechanics often interrupted his studies at school, and he
was sometimes making clocks and carriages when he ought to have been
construing Latin and Greek. But his mind was so active that he easily
caught up again with his fellow-scholars, and was always fond of every
kind of knowledge. He taught the school-boys how to make paper kites; he
made paper lanterns by which to go to school in the dark winter
mornings; and sometimes at night he would alarm the whole country round
by raising his kites in the air with a paper lantern attached to the
tail; they would shine like meteors in the distance, and the country
people, at that time very ignorant, would fancy them omens of evil, and
celestial lights.
He was never idle for a moment. He learned to draw and sketch; he made
little tables and sideboards for the children to play with; he watched
the motions of the sun by means of pegs he had fixed in the wall of the
house where he lived, and marked every hour.
At last, when he was about sixteen, his mother placed him in charge of a
farm, and every Saturday he went with a servant to Grantham market to
sell his corn and vegetables. But the affairs of the farm did not
prosper; the young philosopher hid himself away in a room in a garret
which he hired, studying mechanics and inventing a water-wheel or a new
model, while the sheep wandered away in the field, and the cattle
devoured his corn.
Next he went to Cambridge University, and became a famous scholar. At
the age of twenty-four he began his study of the spectrum, as
philosophers call that brilliant picture of the colors of the rainbow,
which is shown by the sun's rays shining through a three-sided piece of
glass, called a prism. It is one of the most beautiful objects in
science or nature, and Newton's study of its splendid colors led to his
greatest discoveries in _optics_, or the science of the sight. In our
own time the use of the prism and its spectrum has shown us of what the
sun and moon are composed.
One day, as Newton sat musing in his garden at his retired country home,
an apple fell from a tree to the ground. A great idea at once arose in
his mind, and he conceived the plan of the universe and of the law of
gravitation, as it is called. He was the first to discover that famous
law. He showed that the heavier body always attracts the lighter; that
as the apple falls to the earth, so the earth is drawn toward the sun;
that all the planets feel the law of gravitation, and that all the
universe seems to obey one will. Newton soon became the most famous of
living philosophers. But at the same time he was the most modest of men;
he never knew that he had done anything more than others, nor felt that
he was any more studious or busy. Yet he never ceased to show, even in
late old age, the same love for mechanical pursuits and the study of
nature he had shown when a boy. His most famous work, the _Principia_,
proving the law of gravitation and the motion of the planets, appeared
in 1687. He made beautiful prisms of glass and other substances, and
fine reflecting telescopes, the best that were yet known. He wrote
valuable histories and works. He was always a devout Christian and
scholar. He died in 1727, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
Thus the puny babe that was scarcely thought worth the care of his
nurses became an active and healthy boy and man, with the clearest mind
of his time. He was stout, ruddy, healthy, and never, it is said, lost a
tooth. But he preserved his health by avoiding all that was hurtful. He
was a philosopher at twelve years old, and the world owes much of its
progress to Newton's well-spent childhood.
TIM AND TIP;
OR, THE ADVENTURES OF A BOY AND A DOG.[1]
BY JAMES OTIS,
AUTHOR OF "TOBY TYLER," ETC.
CHAPTER XI.
ONE COOK SPOILS THE BROTH.
[1] Begun in No. 92 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, August 2.
The question of what was to make up the dinner bill of fare appeared to
be an important one to all, and many were the suggestions made to the
cooks. Some proposed that the work of raising the tent be intrusted to
other hands, so that Bill and Tip could go out and bring in a deer or a
bear; others thought the old hen should be killed at once, and served up
as a roast; while one portion of the party seemed to think it Captain
Jimmy's duty to get his ship under way, and go after some fish for a
chowder.
But Tim and Bobby did not allow any of these remarks to trouble them;
they were the legally elected cooks, and they proposed to do the work in
their own way.
"We'll get the dinner," said Tim, with some dignity, "an' after it's
done, if you fellers don't like it, you can cook one to suit
yourselves."
But the cooks did listen to what Bill had to say, since he was one of
the high officials, and he was strongly in favor of making the first
dinner in camp a "big" one, even going so far as to propose in all
earnestness that the hen be killed.
"We might jest as well eat her," he said, as he looked murderously
toward the unhappy fowl, which was struggling to free herself from | 2,074.781656 |
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E-text prepared by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading
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Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustration.
See 38434-h.htm or 38434-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38434/38434-h/38434-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38434/38434-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
http://www.archive.org/details/lincolnsuseofbib4038jack
LINCOLN'S.USE OF.THE.BIBLE
S.TREVENA.JACKSON
[Illustration: A. Lincoln 1864]
LINCOLN'S USE OF THE BIBLE
by
S. TREVENA JACKSON
The Abingdon Press
New York Cincinnati
Copyright, 1909, by
Eaton & Mains.
Printed December, 1909
Reprinted February, 1910; October, 1914
When quiet in my house I sit,
Thy book be my companion still;
My joy thy sayings to repeat,
Talk o'er the records of thy will,
And search the oracles divine,
Till every heartfelt word be mine.
--_Charles Wesley._
The Bible is a book of faith,
A book of doctrine,
And a book of religion,
Of especial revelation from God.
--_Daniel Webster._
And weary seekers of the best,
We come back laden from our quest,
To find that all the sages said--
Is in the Book our mothers read.
--_Whittier._
LINCOLN'S USE OF THE BIBLE
"The Bible is the king's best copy, the magistrate's best rule, the
housewife's best guide, the servant's best directory, and the best
companion of youth."
In a log cabin at Nolin's Creek, Hardin County, Kentucky, the boy breathed
the first breath of life. Hope's anchor hung on a slender string, if we
are to measure by the child's home surroundings. But his birthplace
possessed a soul; for a home with a good book in it has a soul. This book
was the Bible. It mastered his manners, molded his mind, made mighty his
manhood, and gave to America the matchless man.
In the Bible he found the truth for the ills of men, the secret for the
solution of life's perplexing problems, the boon for the best beaten
path, the succor for the suffering, the calmest comforts for the dying,
and the faithful friend when foes are near and other friends so far away.
We shall speak of what others have said concerning Lincoln's use of the
Bible; what he himself said of it; the use he made of it; and the
influence of the Scriptures on his life and literature.
In Herndon's Life of Lincoln the partner and President is portrayed as a
foe rather than a friend of the Bible. This is seen to be erroneous by
simply reading his speeches, for they are like the dewdrops on the blades
of green in early fall, sparkling everywhere. It is hard to read a great
speech of Lincoln's without seeing the influence of the Bible on his life,
works, and style.
Sarah K. Bolton writes: "Mrs. Lincoln possessed but one book in the
world, the Bible; and from this she taught her children daily. Abraham had
been to school for two or three months, to such a school as the rude
country afforded, and had learned to read. Of quick mind and retentive
memory, he soon came to know the Bible well-nigh by heart, and to look
upon his gentle teacher as the embodiment of all the good precepts in the
book."
Lincoln's mother died after a lingering illness when he was ten years old.
It is said that during her sickness he cared for her as tenderly as a
girl, and that he often sat at her side and read the Bible to her for
hours. Much of his later life and style was influenced by his early
reading of the Bible.
L. E. Chittenden says: "Except the instructions of his mother, the Bible
more powerfully controlled the intellectual development of the son than
all other causes combined. He memorized many of its chapters and had them
perfectly at his command. Early in his professional life he learned that
the most useful of all books to the public speaker was the Bible. After
1857 he seldom made a speech which did not contain quotations from the
Bible."
Alexander Williamson, who was engaged as tutor in the Lincoln family in
Washington, said: "Mr. Lincoln very frequently studied the Bible with the
aid of Cruden's Concordance, which lay on his table." The Presbyterian
pastor in Springfield, Rev. James Smith, states that Lincoln became a
believer in the Bible and Jesus Christ as the Son of God. It is true that
Mr. Smith placed before Lincoln the arguments for and against the divine
authority of the Scriptures. He looked at it from a lawyer's viewpoint,
and, at the conclusion, declared the argument in favor of divine authority
and inspiration of the Bible unanswerable.
Mr. Arnold, in his Life of Lincoln, speaking of the Second Inaugural
Address, said: "Since the days of Christ's Sermon on the Mount, where is
the speech of emperor, king, or ruler which can compare with this? May we
not without irreverence say that passages of this address are worthy of
that holy book which he read daily, and from which, during his long days
of trial, he had drawn inspiration and guidance? This paper in its solemn
recognition of the justice of the Almighty God reminds us of the words of
the old Hebrew prophets."
Bishop Simpson, in his funeral address, said: "Abraham Lincoln was a good
man, a man of noble heart in every way. He read the Bible frequently; he
loved it for its great truths; and he tried to be guided by its precepts.
He believed in Christ as the Saviour of sinners, and I think he was
sincere in trying to bring his life in harmony with the precepts of
revealed religion. I doubt if any President has shown such trust in God,
or in public document so frequently referred to divine aid."
In the year 1901 President Roosevelt delivered an address before the
American Bible Society on "Reading the Bible," in which he said: "Lincoln,
sad, patient, kindly Lincoln, who, after bearing upon his shoulders for
four years a greater burden than that borne by any other man of the
nineteenth century, laid down his life for the people whom, living, he
had served so well, built up his entire reading upon his study of the
Bible. He had mastered it absolutely, mastered it as later he mastered
only one or two other books, notably Shakespeare, mastered it so that he
became almost a man of one book who knew that book, and who instinctively
put into practice what he had been taught therein; and he left his life as
part of the crowning work of the century just closed."
Lincoln often spoke and wrote of the value of the Bible. To Joshua F.
Speed, one of his most intimate friends, and at one time his roommate, he
wrote: "I am profitably engaged in reading the Bible. Take all of this
book upon reason that you can, and the balance on faith, and you will live
and die a better man," Mrs. Speed gave Lincoln a Bible, and, after a
visit to that home in 1841, he wrote to the daughter, Mary Speed, and at
the close said: "Tell your mother I have not got her present (an Oxford
Bible) with me, but I intend to read it regularly when I return home. I
doubt not that it is really, as she says, the best cure for the blues,
could one but take it according to truth."
On July 4, 1842, in writing to his friend Speed of the service he had been
in bringing Joshua and Fanny, his sweetheart, together, he said: "I
believe God made me one of the instruments of bringing you and Fanny
together, which union I have no doubt he had foreordained. Whatever he
designs he will do for me yet. 'Stand still and see the salvation of the
Lord' is my text just now."
It is stated on good authority that after his election in 1860 he said to
Judge Joseph Gillespie: "I have read on my knees the story of Gethsemane,
where the Son of God prayed in vain that the cup of bitterness might pass
from him. I am in the garden of Gethsemane now, and my cup is running
over."
Lincoln's reply to a committee of colored people of Baltimore who
presented him with a Bible, September 7, 1864, gives his opinion of the
Bible: "In regard to this great book I have but to say: It is the best
gift God has given to man. All the good Saviour gave to this world was
communicated through this book. But for it we could not know right from
wrong. All things most desirable for man's welfare here and hereafter are
to be found portrayed in it. To you I return my most sincere thanks for
the very elegant copy of the great Book of God which you present."
At Springfield he addressed the Bible Society and said: "It seems to me
that nothing short of infinite wisdom could by any possibility have
devised and given to man this excellent and perfect moral code. It is
suited to men in all the conditions of life, and inculcates all the duties
they owe to their Creator, to themselves, and to their fellow men."
In J. G. Holland's Life of Lincoln he gives us the conversation with Mr.
Bateman: "Mr. Bateman, I have carefully read the Bible." Then he drew from
his pocket a New Testament: "These men will know that I am for freedom in
the territories, freedom everywhere as far as the Constitution and laws
will permit, and my opponents are for slavery. They know this, yet, with
this book in their hands, in the light of which human bondage cannot live
a moment, they are going to vote against me. I know there is a God, and
that he hates injustice and slavery. I see the storm coming, and I know
that his hand is in it. If he has a place for me--and I think he has--I
believe I am ready. I am nothing, but truth is everything. I know I am
right, for Christ teaches it, and Christ is God."
In his Lyceum speech he speaks of the advantage of an education and being
able to read the history of his own and other countries, by which we may
appreciate the value of our free institutions, to say nothing of the
advantages and satisfaction to be derived from all being able to read for
themselves the Scriptures and other works both of a religious and moral
nature. In this same speech he uses this language: "If destruction be our
lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher." Then, speaking of the
Revolution, he desired the history of it to "be read and recounted as long
as the Bible shall be read."
The night before the President left Springfield for the White House a
friend from Chicago sent him the American flag with these words: "Have not
I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither
be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou
goest. There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days
of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee."
It has been said by those who pride themselves on having no faith in the
inspiration of the Scriptures that Lincoln held their views. But he
addressed conventions and Sunday-schools, and the Bible was as often
quoted by him as Blackstone. The addresses and letters of Lincoln are
saturated with expressions from the Holy Scriptures. In his reply to
Douglas he gave his speech great force by the words of Christ: "A house
divided against itself cannot stand." In writing to Mr. W. Durley he uses
scriptural terms: "By the fruit the tree is to be known. An evil tree
cannot bring forth good fruit."
Ann Rutledge gave him a new view of the Bible and Shakespeare. Abraham
Lincoln's is the language of the Bible. He never used the Bible in an
irreverent way. In the Lincoln Museum, Washington, there is a copy of the
Holy Scriptures. It is well worn, and shows the signs of good use. Inside
the cover are these words in his own handwriting: "A. Lincoln, his own
book."
He wrote a letter to Rev. J. M. Peck in 1848 asking him, "Is the precept,
'Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,'
obsolete, of no force, of no application?" In his description of Niagara
he said: "It calls up the indefinite past when Christ suffered on the
cross, when Moses led Israel through the Red Sea--nay, even when Adam
first came from the hand of his Maker; then, as now, Niagara was roaring
here."
In writing to John D. Johnston concerning his father's illness, he said:
"I sincerely hope Father will recover his health, but, at all events, tell
him to remember and call upon and confide in our great and good and
merciful Maker. He notes the fall of the sparrow and numbers the hairs of
our heads, and he will not forget the dying man who puts his trust in
him."
Mr. William S. Speer wrote to Mr. Lincoln asking him to write a letter to
give his definite views on the slavery question. Lincoln replied: "I have
already done this many, many times, and it is in print and open to all who
will read. Those who will not read or heed what I have already publicly
said would not read or heed a repetition of it. 'If they hear not Moses
and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the
dead.'"
In a letter to Reverdy Johnson he wrote: "I am a patient man, always
willing to forgive on the Christian terms of repentance, and also to give
ample time for repentance." Lincoln wrote to General J. A. McClernand:
"My belief is that the permanent estimate of what a general does in the
field is fixed by the 'cloud of witnesses' who have been with him in the
field."
Lincoln was ever bringing his knowledge of the Scriptures to the minds of
men. When an aged citizen, John Phillips, had done him honor, he wrote
him: "The example of such devotion to civic duties in one whose days have
been already extended an average lifetime beyond the psalmist's limit
cannot but be valuable and fruitful."
We find in his speeches and letters the Bible at his tongue's end. In his
reply to Douglas at Alton he said: "He has warred upon them as Satan wars
upon the Bible. The Bible says somewhere we are desperately selfish." And,
writing to J. F. Speed, he writes of those who are so interested in
slavery, and says: "If, like Haman, they should hang upon the gallows of
their own building, I should not be among the mourners for their fate."
Then again he says: "Let us judge not, that we be not judged," Then the
words of the Christ: "Woe unto the world because of offenses! for it must
needs be that offenses come; but woe to that man by whom the offense
cometh!"
In his temperance speech in 1842 he sees the spirit of temperance like the
conqueror in the Revelation going forth "conquering and to conquer," He
sees the drunkard reclaimed, and, like the man in the gospel, "clothed and
in his right mind"; then, describing the reclaimed, "out of their abundant
hearts their tongues give utterance." Then he speaks of the unpardonable
sin for the drunkard as unknown: "As in Christianity it is taught, 'while
the lamp holds out to burn the vilest sinner may return.'" Then he refers
to the Scriptures and says: "He ever seems to have gone forth like the
Egyptian angel of death, commissioned to slay, if not the first, the
fairest born of every family." Then he takes us over to the prophet: "Come
from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may
live."
He was very fond of a poem called "Adam and Eve's Wedding Song":
"When Adam was created
He dwelt in Eden's shade.
As Moses has recorded.
And soon a bride was made."
Some thought that Lincoln was its author, but he said: "I am not the
author. I would give all I am worth, and go in debt, to be able to write
so fine a piece." In speaking of the tariff he said: "In the early days
of our race the Almighty said to the first of our race, 'In the sweat of
thy face shalt thou eat bread.'"
In 1848, when President Polk sent a message to Congress stating that
Mexico "had shed American blood upon American soil," Lincoln made a long
speech against war with Mexico, and recalled the death of Abel thus: "That
he [President Polk] is deeply conscious of being in the wrong; that he
feels the blood of this war, like the blood of Abel, is crying to heaven
against him."
In Lincoln's eulogy on Henry Clay he brings the Book of God before the
people: "Pharaoh's country was cursed with plagues and his hosts were lost
in the Red Sea for striving to retain a captive people who had already
served them more than four hundred years. May this disaster never befall
us!"
His knowledge of the Bible is clearly seen in his debate with Judge
Douglas, for when the latter described man in the garden with evil or good
to choose from Lincoln's reply was: "God did not place good and evil
before man, telling him to take his choice. On the contrary, he did tell
him there was one tree of the fruit of which he should not eat upon pain
of certain death." Later Judge Douglas said that Lincoln had a proneness
for quoting the Scriptures, and Lincoln replied in his Springfield
address, July 17, 1858: "If I should do so now it occurs that he places
himself somewhat upon the ground of the parable of the lost sheep which
went astray upon the mountains, and when the owner of the hundred sheep
found the one that was lost and threw it upon his shoulders, and came home
rejoicing, it was said that there was more rejoicing over the one sheep
that was lost and had been found than over the ninety and nine in the
fold. The application is made by the Saviour in this parable thus: 'Verily
I say unto you, there is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner that
repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance.'
Repentance before forgiveness is a provision of the Christian system." In
his fragments of a speech he claims "the revelation in the Bible, and his
revelation the Bible."
Lincoln has before his mind the ideas of the early church when he says:
"'Give to him that is needy' is a Christian rule of charity." In 1859 he
gave a lecture on "Discoveries, Inventions, and Improvements," in which
he gives a description of our first parents: "It was the destined work of
Adam's race to develop by discoveries, inventions, and improvements, and
the first invention of which we have any account is the fig-leaf apron.
Speech was used by our first parents, and even by Adam before the creation
of Eve."
At Cincinnati he speaks of "the loaves and fishes," and concludes his
speech almost with Bible words: "The good old maxims of the Bible are
applicable, and truly applicable, to human affairs; and in this as in
other things we may say here that he who is not for us is against us; and
he who gathereth not with us scattereth." He concludes his speech in
Kansas in the same year with the same words.
When | 2,074.854607 |
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provided by the Internet Archive
MRS PEIXADA
By Henry Harland (AKA Sidney Luska)
Author of “As It Was Written,” etc., etc.
Cassell & Company, Limited, 739 & 741 Broadway, New York.
1886
CONTENTS
MRS. PEIXADA.
CHAPTER I—A CASE IS STATED.
CHAPTER II.—“A VOICE, A MYSTERY.”
CHAPTER III.—STATISTICAL.
CHAPTER IV.—“THAT NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHE.”
CHAPTER V.—“A NOTHING STARTS THE SPRING.”
CHAPTER VI.—“THE WOMAN WHO HESITATES.”
CHAPTER VII.—ENTER MRS. PEIXADA.
CHAPTER VIII | 2,074.954129 |
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CHAUCER FOR CHILDREN
KEY TO THE COVER.
The 1st Arch contains a glimpse of Palamon and Arcite fighting
desperately, yet wounded oftener and sharplier by Love's arrows than by
each deadly stroke. The ruthless boy aloft showers gaily upon them his
poisoned shafts.
The 2nd contains Aurelius and Dorigen--that loving wife left on Breton
shores, who was so nearly caught in the trap she set for herself. Aurelius
offers her his heart aflame. It is true his attitude is humble, but she is
utterly in his power--she cannot get away whilst he is kneeling on her
dress.
The 3rd represents the Summoner led away, but this time neither to profit
nor to pleasure, by his horned companion. The wicked spirit holds the
reins of both horses in his hand, and the Summoner already quakes in
anticipation of what is in store for him.
The 4th contains the three rioters. The emblem of that Death they sought
so wantonly hangs over their heads; the reward of sin is not far off.
The 5th Arch is too much concealed by the lock to do more than suggest one
of Griselda's babes.
The KEY, from which the book takes its name, we trust may unlock the too
little known treasures of the first of English poets. The _Daisy_, symbol
for all time both of Chaucer and of children, and thus curiously fitted to
be the connecting link between them, may point the way to lessons fairer
than flowers in stories as simple as daisies.
_CHAUCER FOR CHILDREN_
Demy 8vo, cloth limp, 2_s._ 6_d._
CHAUCER FOR SCHOOLS.
By MRS. HAWEIS, Author of 'CHAUCER FOR CHILDREN.'
_This is a copious and judicious selection from Chaucer's Tales, with
full notes on the history, manners, customs, and language of the
fourteenth century, with marginal glossary and a literal poetical
version in modern English in parallel columns with the original
poetry. Six of the Canterbury Tales are thus presented, in sections of
from 10 to 200 lines, mingled with prose narrative. 'Chaucer for
Schools' is issued to meet a widely-expressed want, and is especially
adapted for class instruction. It may be profitably studied in
connection with the maps and illustrations of 'Chaucer for Children.'_
'We hail with pleasure the appearance of Mrs. Haweis's "Chaucer for
Schools." Her account of "Chaucer the Tale-teller" is certainly the
pleasantest, chattiest, and at the same time one of the soundest
descriptions of the old master, his life and works and general
surroundings, that have ever been written. The chapter cannot be too
highly praised.'--ACADEMY.
'The authoress is in such felicitous harmony with her task, that the young
student, who in this way first makes acquaintance with Chaucer, may well
through life ever after associate Mrs. Haweis with the rare productions of
the father of English poetry.'--SCHOOL-BOARD CHRONICLE.
'Unmistakably presents the best means yet provided of introducing young
pupils to the study of our first great poet.'--SCOTSMAN.
'In her "Chaucer for Schools" Mrs. Haweis has prepared a great assistance
for boys and girls who have to make the acquaintance of the poet. Even
grown people, who like their reading made easy for them, will find the
book a pleasant companion.'--GUARDIAN.
'The subject has been dealt with in such a full and comprehensive way,
that the book must be commended to everyone whose study of early English
poetry has been neglected.'--DAILY CHRONICLE.
'We venture to think that this happy idea will attract to the study of
Chaucer not a few children of a larger growth, who have found Chaucer to
be very hard reading, even with the help of a glossary and copious notes.
Mrs. Haweis's book displays throughout most excellent and patient
workmanship, and it cannot fail to induce many to make themselves more
fully acquainted with the writings of the father of English
literature.'--ECHO.
'The book is a mine of poetic beauty and most scholarly explanation, which
deserves a place on the shelves of every school library.'--SCHOOL
NEWSPAPER.
'For those who have yet to make the acquaintance of the sweet and quaint
singer, there could not well be a better book than this. Mrs. Haweis is,
of course, an enthusiast, and her enthusiasm is contagious. Her volume
ought to be included in all lists of school books--at least, in schools
where boys and girls are supposed to be laying the foundations of a
liberal education.'--LITERARY WORLD.
'Mrs. Haweis has, by her "Chaucer for Schools," rendered invaluable
assistance to those who are anxious to promote the study of English
literature in our higher and middle-grade schools.... Although this
edition of Chaucer has been expressly prepared for school use, it will be
of great service to many adult readers.'--SCHOOL GUARDIAN.
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY, W.
[Illustration: MINE HOST ASSEMBLING THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS.
KNIGHT. SQUIRE. BOY. WIFE OF BATH. PRIORESS. CHAUCER (A CLERK). FRIAR.
MINE HOST. MONK. SUMMONER. PARDONER. SECOND NUN. FRANKLIN.]
CHAUCER FOR CHILDREN
A Golden Key
BY MRS. H. R. HAWEIS
_ILLUSTRATED WITH EIGHT PICTURES AND NUMEROUS WOODCUTS
BY THE AUTHOR_
[Illustration: 'Doth now your devoir, yonge knightes proude!']
A New Edition, Revised.
London
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1882
[Illustration]
CHIEFLY FOR THE USE AND PLEASURE OF MY LITTLE LIONEL, FOR WHOM I FELT THE
NEED OF SOME BOOK OF THE KIND, I HAVE ARRANGED AND ILLUSTRATED THIS
CHAUCER STORY-BOOK.
CONTENTS
FOREWORDS TO THE SECOND EDITION ix
FOREWORDS xi
CHAUCER THE TALE-TELLER 1
CANTERBURY TALES:--
CHAUCER'S PILGRIMS 17
CHAUCER'S PROLOGUE 18
THE KNIGHT'S TALE 34
THE FRIAR'S TALE 57
THE CLERK'S TALE 65
THE FRANKLIN'S TALE 84
THE PARDONER'S TALE 92
MINOR POEMS:--
COMPLAINT OF CHAUCER TO HIS PURSE 100
TWO RONDEAUX 101
VIRELAI 102
GOOD COUNSEL OF CHAUCER 104
NOTES ON THE PICTURES 107
List of Illustrations.
PICTURES.
PAGE
I. PILGRIMS STARTING _Frontispiece_
II. DINNER IN THE OLDEN TIME _To face_ 2
III. LADY CROSSING THE STREET " 6
IV. FAIR EMELYE " 37
V. GRISELDA'S MARRIAGE " 69
VI. GRISELDA'S BEREAVEMENT " 72
VII. DORIGEN AND AURELIUS " 86
VIII. THE RIOTER " 97
CHAUCER'S PORTRAIT " 3
WOODCUTS.
PAGE
I. TOURNAMENT _Title-page_
II. TABLE 2
III. HEAD-DRESSES 2
IV. MAPS OF OLD AND MODERN LONDON _To face_ 4
V. LADIES' HEAD-DRESSES 5
VI. SHOE 6
VII. JOHN OF GAUNT 7
VIII. SHIP 8
IX. STYLUS 10
X. THE KNIGHT 19
XI. THE SQUIRE 20
XII. THE YEOMAN 21
XIII. THE PRIORESS 22
XIV. THE MONK 24
XV. THE FRIAR 25
XVI. THE MERCHANT 26
XVII. THE CLERK 27
XVIII. THE SERJEANT-OF-LAW 28
XIX. THE FRANKLIN 28
XX. TABLE DORMANT 28
XXI. THE DOCTOR OF PHYSIC 29
XXII. THE WIFE OF BATH 29
XXIII. THE PARSON 30
XXIV. THE PLOUGHMAN 31
XXV. THE SUMMONER 31
XXVI. THE PARDONER 31
XXVII. MINE HOST 32
XXVIII., XXIX. KNIGHTS IN ARMOUR 48
FOREWORDS TO THE SECOND EDITION.
In revising _Chaucer for Children_ for a New Edition, I have fully availed
myself of the help and counsel of my numerous reviewers and
correspondents, without weighting the book, which is really designed for
children, with a number of new facts, and theories springing from the new
facts, such as I have incorporated in my Book for older readers, _Ch | 2,074.955406 |
2023-11-16 18:51:39.0394140 | 1,539 | 11 |
Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive
OLIVER TWIST,
Or, The Parish Boy's Progress
By Charles Dickens
CONTENTS
I TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN AND OF THE
CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH
II TREATS OF OLIVER TWIST'S GROWTH, EDUCATION, AND BOARD
III RELATES HOW OLIVER TWIST WAS VERY NEAR GETTING A PLACE WHICH
WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SINECURE
IV OLIVER, BEING OFFERED ANOTHER PLACE, MAKES HIS FIRST ENTRY INTO
PUBLIC LIFE
V OLIVER MINGLES WITH NEW ASSOCIATES. GOING TO A FUNERAL FOR THE
FIRST TIME, HE FORMS AN UNFAVOURABLE NOTION OF HIS MASTER'S
BUSINESS
VI OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES INTO ACTION,
AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM
VII OLIVER CONTINUES REFRACTORY
VIII OLIVER WALKS TO LONDON. HE ENCOUNTERS ON THE ROAD A STRANGE
SORT OF YOUNG GENTLEMAN
IX CONTAINING FURTHER PARTICULARS CONCERNING THE PLEASANT OLD
GENTLEMAN, AND HIS HOPEFUL PUPILS
X OLIVER BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE CHARACTERS OF HIS NEW
ASSOCIATES; AND PURCHASES EXPERIENCE AT A HIGH PRICE. BEING A
SHORT, BUT VERY IMPORTANT CHAPTER, IN THIS HISTORY
XI TREATS OF MR. FANG THE POLICE MAGISTRATE; AND FURNISHES A
SLIGHT SPECIMEN OF HIS MODE OF ADMINISTERING JUSTICE
XII IN WHICH OLIVER IS TAKEN BETTER CARE OF THAN HE EVER WAS
BEFORE. AND IN WHICH THE NARRATIVE REVERTS TO THE MERRY OLD
GENTLEMAN AND HIS YOUTHFUL FRIENDS.
XIII SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES ARE INTRODUCED TO THE INTELLIGENT READER,
CONNECTED WITH WHOM VARIOUS PLEASANT MATTERS ARE RELATED,
APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY
XIV COMPRISING FURTHER PARTICULARS OF OLIVER'S STAY AT MR.
BROWNLOW'S, WITH THE REMARKABLE PREDICTION WHICH ONE MR. GRIMWIG
UTTERED CONCERNING HIM, WHEN HE WENT OUT ON AN ERRAND
XV SHOWING HOW VERY FOND OF OLIVER TWIST, THE MERRY OLD JEW AND
MISS NANCY WERE
XVI RELATES WHAT BECAME OF OLIVER TWIST, AFTER HE HAD BEEN CLAIMED
BY NANCY
XVII OLIVER'S DESTINY CONTINUING UNPROPITIOUS, BRINGS A GREAT MAN TO
LONDON TO INJURE HIS REPUTATION
XVIII HOW OLIVER PASSED HIS TIME IN THE IMPROVING SOCIETY OF HIS
REPUTABLE FRIENDS
XIX IN WHICH A NOTABLE PLAN IS DISCUSSED AND DETERMINED ON
XX WHEREIN OLIVER IS DELIVERED OVER TO MR. WILLIAM SIKES
XXI THE EXPEDITION
XXII THE BURGLARY
XXIII WHICH CONTAINS THE SUBSTANCE OF A PLEASANT CONVERSATION BETWEEN
MR. BUMBLE AND A LADY; AND SHOWS THAT EVEN A BEADLE MAY BE
SUSCEPTIBLE ON SOME POINTS
XXIV TREATS ON A VERY POOR SUBJECT. BUT IS A SHORT ONE, AND MAY BE
FOUND OF IMPORTANCE IN THIS HISTORY
XXV WHEREIN THIS HISTORY REVERTS TO MR. FAGIN AND COMPANY
XXVI IN WHICH A MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE; AND MANY
THINGS, INSEPARABLE FROM THIS HISTORY, ARE DONE AND PERFORMED
XXVII ATONES FOR THE UNPOLITENESS OF A FORMER CHAPTER; WHICH DESERTED
A LADY, MOST UNCEREMONIOUSLY
XXVIII LOOKS AFTER OLIVER, AND PROCEEDS WITH HIS ADVENTURES
XXIX HAS AN INTRODUCTORY ACCOUNT OF THE INMATES OF THE HOUSE, TO
WHICH OLIVER RESORTED
XXX RELATES WHAT OLIVER'S NEW VISITORS THOUGHT OF HIM
XXXI INVOLVES A CRITICAL POSITION
XXXII OF THE HAPPY LIFE OLIVER BEGAN TO LEAD WITH HIS KIND FRIENDS
XXXIII WHEREIN THE HAPPINESS OF OLIVER AND HIS FRIENDS, EXPERIENCES A
SUDDEN CHECK
XXXIV CONTAINS SOME INTRODUCTORY PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO A YOUNG
GENTLEMAN WHO NOW ARRIVES UPON THE SCENE; AND A NEW ADVENTURE
WHICH HAPPENED TO OLIVER
XXXV CONTAINING THE UNSATISFACTORY RESULT OF OLIVER'S ADVENTURE; AND
A CONVERSATION OF SOME IMPORTANCE BETWEEN HARRY MAYLIE AND ROSE
XXXVI IS A VERY SHORT ONE, AND MAY APPEAR OF NO GREAT IMPORTANCE IN
ITS PLACE, BUT IT SHOULD BE READ NOTWITHSTANDING, AS A SEQUEL
TO THE LAST, AND A KEY TO ONE THAT WILL FOLLOW WHEN ITS TIME
ARRIVES
XXXVII IN WHICH THE READER MAY PERCEIVE A CONTRAST, NOT UNCOMMON IN
MATRIMONIAL CASES
XXXVIII CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT PASSED BETWEEN MR. AND MRS.
BUMBLE, AND MR. MONKS, AT THEIR NOCTURNAL INTERVIEW
XXXIX INTRODUCES SOME RESPECTABLE CHARACTERS WITH WHOM THE READER IS
ALREADY ACQUAINTED, AND SHOWS HOW MONKS AND THE JEW LAID THEIR
WORTHY HEADS TOGETHER
XL A STRANGE INTERVIEW, WHICH IS A SEQUEL TO THE LAST CHAMBER
XLI CONTAINING FRESH DISCOVERIES, AND SHOWING THAT SUPRISES, LIKE
MISFORTUNES, SELDOM COME ALONE
XLII AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE OF OLIVER'S, EXHIBITING DECIDED MARKS OF
GENIUS, BECOMES A PUBLIC CHARACTER IN THE METROPOLIS
XLIII WHEREIN IS SHOWN HOW THE ARTFUL DODGER GOT INTO TROUBLE
XLIV THE TIME ARRIVES FOR NANCY TO REDEEM HER PLEDGE TO ROSE MAYLIE.
SHE FAILS.
XLV NOAH CLAYPOLE IS EMPLOYED BY FAGIN ON A SECRET MISSION
XLVI THE APPOINTMENT KEPT
XLVII F | 2,075.059454 |
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Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer
THE GOOD SOLDIER
By Ford Madox Ford
PART I
I
THIS is the saddest story I have ever heard. We had known the
Ashburnhams for nine seasons of the town of Nauheim with an extreme
intimacy--or, rather with an acquaintanceship as loose and easy and yet
as close as a good glove's with your hand. My wife and I knew Captain
and Mrs Ashburnham as well as it was possible to know anybody, and yet,
in another sense, we knew nothing at all about them. This is, I believe,
a state of things only possible with English people of whom, till today,
when I sit down to puzzle | 2,075.369587 |
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Produced by Steven Gibbs, Stephen Ellison and the PG Online
Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE
Letters
OF
LORD NELSON
TO
LADY HAMILTON;
WITH A
SUPPLEMENT
OF
_INTERESTING LETTERS_,
BY
Distinguished Characters.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
* * * * *
London:
Printed by Macdonald and Son, Smithfield,
FOR THOMAS LOVEWELL & CO. STAINES HOUSE,
BARBICAN;
AND SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS.
1814.
ADVERTISEMENT.
In presenting to the Public the Letters of LORD NELSON to LADY
HAMILTON, something may justly be expected elucidatory of them.
Their mutual attachment is so generally known, that for the Editors
to have given notes, however desirable and explanatory, might not,
perhaps, have been deemed perfectly decorous.
They now stand on their own real merits. Some parts (though not very
numerous) have been suppressed, from the most honourable _feelings to
individuals_, as they would certainly have given pain.
That portion of Letters now offered to the BRITISH NATION, written
by the first of her _Naval Commanders_, will shew his most private
sentiments of _men_ and _measures_, of _countries_ and their _rulers_.
It is the duty of the Editors to state, that every letter has
been | 2,075.4584 |
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Produced by Joel Erickson, Dave Avis
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
[Illustration: LOUIS DASHED THE GLOWING END OF HIS CIGAR IN THE <DW64>'S
FACE.]
A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY
BY
EDITH FERGUSON BLACK
A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY.
CHAPTER I.
In one of the fairest of the West Indian islands a simple but elegant
villa lifted its gabled roofs amidst a bewildering wealth of tropical
beauty. Brilliant birds flitted among the foliage, gold and silver
fishes darted to and fro in a large stone basin of a fountain which
threw its glittering spray over the lawn in front of the house, and on
the vine-shaded veranda hammocks hung temptingly, and low wicker chairs
invited to repose.
Behind the jalousies of the library the owner of the villa sat at a
desk, busily writing. He was a slight, delicate looking man, with an
expression of careless good humor upon his face and an easy air of
assurance according with the interior of the room which bespoke a
cultured taste and the ability to gratify it. Books were everywhere,
rare bits of china, curios and exquisitely tinted shells lay in
picturesque confusion upon tables and wall brackets of native woods;
soft silken draperies fell from the windows and partially screened from
view a large alcove where microscopes of different sizes stood upon
cabinets whose shelves were filled with a miscellaneous collection of
rare plants and beautiful insects, specimens from the agate forest of
Arizona, petrified remains from the 'Bad Lands' of Dakota, feathery
fronded seaweed, skeletons of birds and strange wild creatures, and all
the countless curiosities in which naturalists delight.
Lenox Hildreth when a young man, forced to flee from the rigors of the
New England climate by reason of an inherited tendency to pulmonary
disease, had chosen Barbadoes as his adopted country, and had never
since revisited the land of his birth. From the first, fortune had
smiled upon him, and when, some time after his marriage with the
daughter of a wealthy planter, she had come into possession of all her
father's estates, he had built the house which for fifteen years he had
called home. When Evadne, their only daughter, was a little maiden of
six, his wife had died, and for nine years father and child had been all
the world to each other.
He finished writing at last with a sigh of relief, and folding the
letter, together with one addressed to Evadne, he enclosed both in a
large envelope which he sealed and addressed to Judge Hildreth,
Marlborough, Mass. Then he leaned back in his chair, and, clasping his
hands behind his head, looked fixedly at the picture of his fair young
wife which hung above his desk.
"A bad job well done, Louise--or a good one. Our little lass isn't very
well adapted to making her way among strangers, and the Bohemianism of
this life is a poor preparation for the heavy respectability of a New
England existence. Lawrence is a good fellow, but that wife of his
always put me in mind of iced champagne, sparkling and cold." He sighed
heavily, "Poor little Vad! It is a dreary outlook, but it seems my one
resource. Lawrence is the only relative I have in the world.
"After all, I may be fighting windmills, and years hence may laugh at
this morning's work as an example of the folly of yielding to
unnecessary alarm. Danvers is getting childish. All physicians get to be
old fogies, I fancy, a natural sequence to a life spent in hunting down
germs I suppose. They grow to imagine them where none exist."
He rose, and strolled out on the veranda. As he did so, a <DW64>, whose
snow-white hair had earned for him from his master the sobriquet of
Methusaleh, came towards the broad front steps. He was a grotesque image
as he stood doffing a large palm-leaf hat, and Lenox Hildreth felt an
irresistible inclination to laugh, and laughed accordingly. His
morning's occupation had been one of the rare instances in which he had
run counter to his inclinations. Sky blue cotton trousers showed two
brown ankles before his feet hid themselves in a pair of clumsy shoes; a
scarlet shirt, ornamented with large brass buttons and fastened at the
throat with a cotton handkerchief of vivid corn color, was surmounted by
an old nankeen coat, upon whose gaping elbows a careful wife had sewn
patches of green cloth; his hands were encased in white cotton gloves
three sizes too large, whose finger tips waved in the wind as their
wearer flourished his palm-leaf headgear in deprecating obeisance.
"Well, Methusaleh, where are you off to now?" and Lenox Hildreth leaned
against a flower wreathed pillar in lazy amusement.
"To camp-meetin', Mass Hildreff. I hez your permission, sah?" and the
<DW64> rolled his eyes with a ludicrous expression of humility.
His master laughed with the easy indulgence which made his servants
impose upon him.
"You seem to have taken it, you rascal. It is rather late in the day to
ask for permission when you and your store clothes are all ready for a
start."
"'Scuse me, Mass Hildreff," with another deprecating wave of the
palm-leaf hat, "but yer see I knowed yer wouldn't dissapint me of de
priv'lege uv goin' ter camp-meetin' nohow."
Lenox Hildreth held his cigar between his slender fingers and watched
the tiny wreaths of smoke as they circled about his head.
"So camp-meeting is a privilege, is it?" he said carelessly. "How much
more good will it do you to go there than to stay at home and hoe my
corn?"
The eyes were rolled up until only the whites were visible.
"Powerful sight more good, Mass Hildreff. De preacher's 'n uncommon
relijus man, an' de'speriences uv de bredren is mighty upliftin'. Yes,
sah!"
"Well, see that they don't lift you up so high that you'll forget to
come down again. I suppose you have an experience in common with the
rest?"
"Yes, Mass Hildreff," and the palm-leaf made another gyration through
the air. "I'se got a powerful'sperience, sah."
"Well, off you go. It would be a pity to deprive the assembly of such
an edifying specimen of sanctimoniousness."
"Yes, sah, I'se bery sanktimonyus. I'se 'bliged to you, sah."
With a last obsequious flourish the palm-leaf was restored to its
resting-place upon the snowy wool, and the <DW | 2,075.471761 |
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Produced by KD Weeks, Chris Curnow and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. =Bold font= is
indicated with the ‘=’ character.
Footnotes are limited to a single quoted passage, and have been
relocated to follow that passage.
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.
TOBACCO:
GROWING, CURING, AND MANUFACTURING.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TOBACCO:
GROWING, CURING, & MANUFACTURING.
A HANDBOOK FOR PLANTERS
IN ALL PARTS OF THE WORLD.
EDITED BY
C. G. WARNFORD LOCK, F.L.S.
[Illustration]
E. & F. N. SPON, 125, STRAND, LONDON.
NEW YORK: 35, MURRAY STREET.
1886.
PREFACE.
Tobacco growing is one of the most profitable branches of tropical and
sub-tropical agriculture; the$1“$2”$3has even been proposed as a
remunerative crop for the British farmer, and is very extensively grown
in continental Europe. The attention recently drawn to the subject has
resulted in many inquiries for information useful to the planter
desirous of starting a tobacco estate. But beyond scattered articles in
newspapers and the proceedings of agricultural societies, there has been
no practical literature available for the English reader. It is a little
remarkable that while our neighbours have been writing extensively about
tobacco growing, of late years, no English book devoted exclusively to
this subject has been published for nearly thirty years. A glance at the
bibliography given at the end of this volume will show that the French,
German, Swiss, Italian, Dutch, Sicilian, and even Scandinavian planter
has a reliable handbook to guide him in this important branch of
agriculture, while British settlers in our numerous tobacco-growing
colonies must glean their information as best they may from periodical
literature.
To supply the want thus indicated, the present volume has been prepared.
The invaluable assistance of tobacco-planters in both the Indies and in
many other tropical countries, has rendered the portion relating to
field operations eminently practical and complete, while the editor’s
acquaintance with agricultural chemistry and familiarity with the best
tobacco-growing regions of Asiatic Turkey, have enabled him to exercise
a general supervision over the statements of the various contributors.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE PLANT 1
CHAPTER II.
CULTIVATION 7
CHAPTER III.
CURING 67
CHAPTER IV.
PRODUCTION AND COMMERCE 137
CHAPTER V.
PREPARATION AND USE 231
CHAPTER VI.
NATURE AND PROPERTIES 253
CHAPTER VII.
ADULTERATIONS AND SUBSTITUTES 267
CHAPTER VIII.
IMPORTS, DUTIES, VALUES, AND CONSUMPTION 271
CHAPTER IX.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 276
INDEX 281
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
FIG. PAGE
1. CUBAN TOBACCO PLANT 4
2. MARYLAND TOBACCO PLANT 5
3. AMERSFORT TOBACCO PLANT 6
4. STRAW MAT FOR COVERING SEED-BEDS 47
5. SHADE FRAMES USED IN CUBA 49
6. QUINCUNX PLANTING 52
7. TOBACCO WORM AND MOTH 56
8. SHED FOR SUN-CURING TOBACCO 83
9. HANGING BUNCHES OF LEAVES 95
10. TOBACCO BARN 95
11. INTERIOR OF TOBACCO BARN 96
12. HAND OF TOBACCO 108
13. PACKING HOGSHEAD 133
14 to 17. TOBACCO-CUTTING MACHINE 234
18. MACHINE FOR MAKING PLUG TOBACCO 237
19 to 21. MACHINE FOR MAKING TWIST OR ROLL TOBACCO 238
22, 23. DIAGRAMS OF SEGMENT ROLLERS OF TWIST MACHINE 240
24 to 26. ANDREW’S IMPROVEMENTS IN TWIST MACHINE 243–4
27. MACHINE FOR CUTTING AND SIFTING SCRAP TOBACCO 246
28. MACHINE FOR MAKING CIGARETTES 247
29. RESWEATING APPARATUS 249
30. MACHINE FOR WEIGHING OUT SMALL PARCELS OF TOBACCO 250
31. TOBACCO-CUTTING MACHINE 252
TOBACCO:
GROWING, CURING, AND MANUFACTURING.
CHAPTER I.
THE PLANT.
Next to the most common grains and pulses, probably no plant is so
widely and generally cultivated as tobacco. In what country or at what
date its use originated has little to do with us from a practical point
of view, though interesting enough as a subject for the student of
ethnography and natural history. Suffice it to say that it has been
grown and smoked since pre-historic times in many tropical and
sub-tropical countries, and has assumed an importance in modern daily
life only surpassed by a few prominent food plants and cotton.
This long-continued and widespread cultivation has helped to produce
local varieties or races of the plant which have sometimes been mistaken
for distinct species, and caused a multiplication of scientific names
almost bewildering. The following epitome comprehends the species and
varieties of _Nicotiana_ possessing interest for the cultivator:—
I. _N. Tabacum macrophylla_ [_latifolia_, _lattissima_,
_gigantea_]—Maryland tobacco. Of this, there are two sub-species—(1)
Stalkless Maryland, of the following varieties: (_a_) _N. macrophylla
ovata_—short-leaved Maryland, producing a good smoking-tobacco, (_b_)
_N. macrophylla longifolia_—long-leaved Maryland, yielding a good
smoking-tobacco, and excellent wrappers for cigars, (_c_) _N.
macrophylla pandurata_—broad-leaved, or Amersfort, much cultivated in
Germany and Holland, a heavy cropper, and especially adapted for the
manufacture of good snuff; (2) Stalked Maryland, of the following
varieties: (_a_) _N. macrophylla alata_, (_b_) _N. macrophylla
cordata_—heart-shaped Maryland, producing a very fine leaf, from which
probably the finest Turkish is obtained. Cuban and Manilla are now
attributed to this group.
II. _N. Tabacum angustifolia_—Virginian tobacco. Of this, there are two
sub-species—(1) Stalkless Virginian of the following varieties: (_a_)
_N. angustifolia acuminata_, grown in Germany for snuff, seldom for
smoking, (_b_) _N. angustifolia lanceolata_, affords snuff, (_c_) _N.
angustifolia pendulifolia_, another snuff tobacco, (_d_) _N.
angustifolia latifolia_—broad-leaved Virginian, used chiefly for snuff,
(_e_) _N. angustifolia undulata_—wave-like Virginian, matures quickly,
(_f_) _N. angustifolia pandurata_, furnishes good leaves for smoking,
produces heavily, and is much grown in Germany, and said to be grown at
the Pruth as “tempyki,” and highly esteemed there; (2) Stalked
Virginian, of the following varieties: (_a_) _N. angustifolia alata | 2,075.68062 |
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GOBSECK
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Ellen Marriage
DEDICATION
To M. le Baron Barchou de Penhoen.
Among all the pupils of the Oratorian school at Vendome, we are, I
think, the only two who have afterwards met in mid-career of a
life of letters--we who once were cultivating Philosophy when by
rights we should have been minding our De viris. When we met, you
were engaged upon your noble works on German philosophy, and I
upon this study. So neither of us has missed his vocation; and
you, when you see your name here, will feel, no doubt, as much
pleasure as he who inscribes his work to you.--Your old
schoolfellow,
1840 De Balzac.
GOBSECK
It was one o'clock in the morning, during the winter of 1829-30, but in
the Vicomtesse de Grandlieu's salon two persons stayed on who did not
belong to her family circle. A young and good-looking man heard the
clock strike, and took his leave. When the courtyard echoed with the
sound of a departing carriage, the Vicomtesse looked up, saw that no one
was present save her brother and a friend of the family finishing their
game of piquet, and went across to her daughter. The girl, standing by
the chimney-piece, apparently examining a transparent fire-screen,
was listening to the sounds from the courtyard in a way that justified
certain maternal fears.
"Camille," said the Vicomtesse, "if you continue to behave to young
Comte de Restaud as you have done this evening, you will oblige me to
see no more of him here. Listen, child, and if you have any confidence
in my love, let me guide you in life. At seventeen one cannot judge of
past or future, nor of certain social considerations. I have only one
thing to say to you. M. de Restaud has a mother, a mother who would
waste millions of francs; a woman of no birth, a Mlle. Goriot; people
talked a good deal about her at one time. She behaved so badly to her
own father, that she certainly does not deserve to have so good a son.
The young Count adores her, and maintains her in her position with
dutifulness worthy of all praise, and he is extremely good to his
brother and sister.--But however admirable _his_ behavior may be," the
Vicomtesse added with a shrewd expression, "so long as his mother lives,
any family would take alarm at the idea of intrusting a daughter's
fortune and future to young Restaud."
"I overheard a word now and again in your talk with Mlle. de Grandlieu,"
cried the friend of the family, "and it made me anxious to put in a word
of my own.--I have won, M. le Comte," he added, turning to his opponent.
"I shall throw you over and go to your niece's assistance."
"See what it is to have an attorney's ears!" exclaimed the Vicomtesse.
"My dear Derville, how could you know what I was saying to Camille in a
whisper?"
"I knew it from your looks," answered Derville, seating himself in a low
chair by the fire.
Camille's uncle went to her side, and Mme. de Grandlieu took up her
position on a hearth stool between her daughter and Derville.
"The time has come for telling a story, which should modify your
judgment as to Ernest de Restaud's prospects."
"A story?" cried Camille. "Do begin at once, monsieur."
The glance that Derville gave the Vicomtesse told her that this tale was
meant for her. The Vicomtesse de Grandlieu, be it said, was one of the
greatest ladies in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, by reason of her fortune
and her ancient name; and though it may seem improbable that a Paris
attorney should speak so familiarly to her, or be so much at home in her
house, the fact is nevertheless easily explained.
When Mme. de Grandlieu returned to France with the Royal family, she
came to Paris, and at first lived entirely on the pension allowed her
out of the Civil List by Louis XVIII.--an intolerable position. The
Hotel de Grandlieu had been sold by the Republic. It came to Derville's
knowledge that there were flaws in the title, and he thought that it
ought to return to the Vicomtesse. He instituted proceedings for nullity
of contract, and gained the day. Encouraged by this success, he used
legal quibbles to such purpose that he compelled some institution or
other to disgorge the Forest of Liceney. Then he won certain lawsuits
against the Canal d'Orleans, and recovered a tolerably large amount
of property, with which the Emperor had endowed various public
institutions. So it fell out that, thanks to the young attorney's
skilful management, Mme. de Grandlieu's income reached the sum of some
sixty thousand francs, to say nothing of the vast sums returned to her
by the law of indemnity. And Derville, a man of high character, well
informed, modest, and pleasant in company, became the house-friend of
the family.
By his conduct of Mme. de Grandlieu's affairs he had fairly earned the
esteem of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and numbered the best families
among his clients; but he did not take advantage of his popularity, as
an ambitious man might have done. The Vicomtesse would have had him sell
his practice and enter the magistracy, in which career advancement would
have been swift and certain with such influence at his disposal; but he
persistently refused all offers. He only went into society to keep up
his connections, but he occasionally spent an evening at the Hotel de
Grandlieu. It was a very lucky thing for him that his talents had been
brought into the light by his devotion to Mme. de Grandlieu, for his
practice otherwise might have gone to pieces. Derville had not an
attorney's soul. Since Ernest de Restaud had appeared at the Hotel de
Grandlieu, and he had noticed that Camille felt attracted to the young
man, Derville had been as assiduous in his visits as any dandy of the
Chausee-d'Antin newly admitted to the noble Faubourg. At a ball only
a few days before, when he happened to stand near Camille, and said,
indicating the Count:
"It is a pity that yonder youngster has not two or three million francs,
is it not?"
"Is it a pity? I do not think so," the girl answered. "M. de Restaud
has plenty of ability; he is well educated, and the Minister, his
chief, thinks well of him. He will be a remarkable man, I have no doubt.
'Yonder youngster' will have as much money as he wishes when he comes
into power."
"Yes, but suppose that he were rich already?"
"Rich already?" repeated Camille, flushing red. "Why all the girls
in the room would be quarreling for him," she said, glancing at the
quadrilles.
"And then," retorted the attorney, "Mlle. de Grandlieu might not be the
one towards whom his eyes are always turned? That is what that red color
means! You like him, do you not? Come, speak out."
Camille suddenly rose to go.
"She loves him," Derville thought.
Since that evening, Camille had been unwontedly attentive to the
attorney, who approved of her liking for Ernest de Restaud. Hitherto,
although she knew well that her family lay under great obligations to
Derville, she had felt respect rather than real friendship for him,
their relation was more a matter of politeness than of warmth of
feeling; and by her manner, and by the tones of her voice, she had
always made him sensible of the distance which socially lay between
them. Gratitude is a charge upon the inheritance which the second
generation is apt to repudiate.
"This adventure," Derville began after a pause, "brings the one romantic
event in my life to my mind. You are laughing already," he went on;
"it seems so ridiculous, doesn't it, that an attorney should speak of
a romance in his life? But once I was five-and-twenty, like everybody
else, and even then I had seen some queer things. I ought to begin at
the beginning by telling you about some one whom it is impossible that
you should have known. The man in question was a usurer.
"Can you grasp a clear notion of that sallow, wan face of his? I wish
the _Academie_ would give me leave to dub such faces the _lunar_
type. It was like silver-gilt, with the gilt rubbed | 2,075.825425 |
2023-11-16 18:51:39.8341150 | 1,540 | 10 |
Produced by Michael Gray
Eternal Life
By Professor
Henry
Drummond
Philadelphia
Henry Altemus
Copyright 1896 by Henry Altemus.
ETERNAL LIFE.
"This is Life Eternal--that they might know Thee, the True God, and
Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent."--_Jesus Christ_.
"Perfect correspondence would be perfect life. Were there no changes in
the environment but such as the organism had adapted changes to meet,
and were it never to fail in the efficiency with which it met them,
there would be eternal existence and eternal knowledge."--_Herbert
Spencer_.
ONE of the most startling achievements of recent science is a definition
of Eternal Life. To the religious mind this is a contribution of immense
moment. For eighteen hundred years only one definition of Life Eternal
was before the world. Now there are two.
Through all these centuries revealed religion had this doctrine to
itself. Ethics had a voice, as well as Christianity, on the question of
the _summum bonum_; Philosophy ventured to speculate on the Being of a
God. But no source outside Christianity contributed anything to the
doctrine of Eternal Life. Apart from Revelation, this great truth was
unguaranteed. It was the one thing in the Christian system that most
needed verification from without, yet none was forthcoming. And never
has any further light been thrown upon the question why in its very
nature the Christian Life should be Eternal. Christianity itself even
upon this point has been obscure. Its decision upon the bare fact is
authoritative and specific. But as to what there is in the Spiritual
Life necessarily endowing it with the element of Eternity, the maturest
theology is all but silent.
It has been reserved for modern biology at once to defend and illuminate
this central truth of the Christian faith. And hence in the interests of
religion, practical and evidential, this second and scientific
definition of Eternal Life is to be hailed as an announcement of
commanding interest. Why it should not yet have received the recognition
of religious thinkers--for already it has lain some years unnoticed--is
not difficult to understand. The belief in Science as an aid to faith is
not yet ripe enough to warrant men in searching there for witnesses to
the highest Christian truths. The inspiration of Nature, it is thought,
extends to the humbler doctrines alone. And yet the reverent inquirer
who guides his steps in the right direction may find even now in the
still dim twilight of the scientific world much that will illuminate and
intensify his sublimest faith. Here, at least, comes, and comes
unbidden, the opportunity of testing the most vital point of the
Christian system. Hitherto the Christian philosopher has remained
content with the scientific evidence against Annihilation. Or, with
Butler, he has reasoned from the Metamorphoses of Insects to a future
life. Or again, with the authors of "The Unseen Universe," the apologist
has constructed elaborate, and certainly impressive, arguments upon the
Law of Continuity. But now we may draw nearer. For the first time
Science touches Christianity _positively_ on the doctrine of
Immortality. It confronts us with an actual definition of an Eternal
Life, based on a full and rigidly accurate examination of the necessary
conditions. Science does not pretend that it can fulfil these
conditions. Its votaries make no claim to possess the Eternal Life. It
simply postulates the requisite conditions without concerning itself
whether any organism should ever appear, or does now exist, which might
fulfil them. The claim of religion, on the other hand, is that there are
organisms which possess Eternal Life. And the problem for us to solve is
this: Do those who profess to possess Eternal Life fulfil the conditions
required by Science, or are they different conditions? In a word, Is the
Christian conception of Eternal Life scientific?
It may be unnecessary to notice at the outset that the definition of
Eternal Life drawn up by Science was framed without reference to
religion. It must indeed have been the last thought with the thinker to
whom we chiefly owe it, that in unfolding the conception of a Life in
its very nature necessarily eternal, he was contributing to Theology.
Mr. Herbert Spencer--for it is to him we owe it--would be the first to
admit the impartiality of his definition; and from the connection in
which it occurs in his writings, it is obvious that religion was not
even present to his mind. He is analyzing with minute care the relations
between Environment and Life. He unfolds the principle according to
which Life is high or low, long or short. He shows why organisms live
and why they die. And finally he defines a condition of things in which
an organism would never die--in which it would enjoy a perpetual and
perfect Life. This to him is, of course, but a speculation. Life Eternal
is a biological conceit. The conditions necessary to an Eternal Life do
not exist in the natural world. So that the definition is altogether
impartial and independent. A Perfect Life, to Science, is simply a thing
which is theoretically possible--like a Perfect Vacuum.
Before giving, in so many words, the definition of Mr. Herbert Spencer,
it will render it fully intelligible if we gradually lead up to it by a
brief rehearsal of the few and simple biological facts on which it is
based. In considering the subject of Death, we have formerly seen that
there are degrees of Life. By this is meant that some lives have more
and fuller correspondence with Environment than others. The amount of
correspondence, again, is determined by the greater or less complexity
of the organism. Thus a simple organism like the Amoeba is possessed of
very few correspondences. It is a mere sac of transparent structureless
jelly for which organization has done almost nothing, and hence it can
only communicate with the smallest possible area of Environment. An
insect, in virtue of its more complex structure, corresponds with a
wider area. Nature has endowed it with special faculties for reaching
out to the Environment on many sides; it has more life than the Amoeba.
In other words, it is a higher animal. Man again, whose body is still
further differentiated, or broken up into different correspondences,
finds himself _en rapport_ with his surroundings to a further extent.
And therefore he is higher still, more living still. And this law, that
the degree of Life varies with the degree of correspondence, holds to
the minutest detail throughout the entire range of living things. Life
becomes fuller and fuller, richer and richer, more and more sensitive
and responsive to an ever-widening Environment as we rise in the chain
of being.
Now it will speedily appear that a distinct relation exists, and must
exist, between complexity and longevity. Death being brought about by
the failure of an organism to adjust itself to some change in the
Environment, it follows that those organisms which are able to adjust
themselves most readily and successfully will live the longest. They
will continue time after time to effect the appropriate adjustment, and
their power of doing so will be exactly proportionate to their
complexity--that is | 2,075.854155 |
2023-11-16 18:51:40.3394060 | 636 | 14 | TOMO III (OF 3)***
E-text prepared by Carlo Traverso, Claudio Paganelli, Barbara Magni, and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page
images generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/lapromessasposad00scot
All three volumes are included in this one book.
Project Gutenberg has the other two volumes of this work.
Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42881
Volume II: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42882
ROMANZI STORICI
DI
WALTER SCOTT
_TOMO TERZO_
LA PROMESSA SPOSA
DI
LAMMERMOOR
O NUOVI RACCONTI DEL MIO OSTIERE
RACCOLTI E PUBBLICATI
DA JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM
MAESTRO DI SCUOLA, E SAGRESTANO
DELLA PARROCCHIA DI GANDERCLEUGH
VOLGARIZZATI
_DAL PROFESSORE_
GAETANO BARBIERI
_TOMO III._
FIRENZE
TIPOGRAFIA COEN E COMP.
MDCCCXXVI.
LA PROMESSA SPOSA DI LAMMERMOOR
CAPITOLO PRIMO.
„ Tal de' suoi figli al numeroso stuolo
Segnò d'angosce miserando calle
Il primo padre! Almen compagna al duolo
In questo dell'esilio amara valle
Ebbe una sposa; io derelitto e solo
All'albergo natio volgo le spalle. „
_Waller._
Non m'arresterò a descrivere, perchè superiori ad ogni descrizione, i
sentimenti di sdegno e di cordoglio che si straziavano a vicenda il
cuore del sere di Ravenswood nell'allontanarsi dal castello de' suoi
antenati. Il biglietto di lady Asthon era concepito in termini sì
sgradevoli, che non gli sarebbe stato permesso il rimanere un istante
di più entro il recinto di quelle mura, e mostrarsi consentaneo a
quella alterezza, che in lui anche troppo allignava.
Il marchese di Athol ravvisava in parte, come arrecato a se stesso,
l'affronto sofferto dal suo parente; ma coll'animo di far qualche
tentativo a fine di riconciliare gli animi delle due parti, lo lasciò | 2,076.359446 |
2023-11-16 18:51:40.5341690 | 748 | 11 |
E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, Chris Pinfield, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 50064-h.htm or 50064-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/50064/50064-h/50064-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/50064/50064-h.zip)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals.
A transliterated Greek phrase is enclosed by equal signs
(=THEO DOXA=)
The illustrations sometimes include the title of a section
of the poem, lines from the section (not reproduced), text
not forming part of the poem, or the initial letter of the
following stanza. Initial letters are placed in quotation
marks.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Proverbial Philosophy]
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.
(THE FIRST AND SECOND SERIES.)
by
MARTIN F. TUPPER, M.A., D.C.L., F.R.S.,
Of Christchurch, Oxford.
Illustrated.
A New Edition.
[Illustration]
London:
Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street.
1867.
London:
Bradbury, Evans, and Co., Printers, Whitefriars.
CONTENTS.
_FIRST SERIES._
PAGE
PREFATORY 1
THE WORDS OF WISDOM 4
OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE 8
OF ANTICIPATION 12
OF HIDDEN USES 14
OF COMPENSATION 21
OF INDIRECT INFLUENCES 27
OF MEMORY 33
THE DREAM OF AMBITION 38
OF SUBJECTION 41
OF REST 51
OF HUMILITY 55
OF PRIDE 59
OF EXPERIENCE 62
OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER 65
OF HATRED AND ANGER 74
OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL 76
OF PRAYER 81
THE LORD'S PRAYER 86
OF DISCRETION 88
OF TRIFLES 92
OF RECREATION 95
THE TRAIN OF RELIGION 100
OF A TRINITY 103
OF THINKING 107
OF SPEAKING 115
OF READING 119
OF WRITING 121
OF WEALTH 125
OF INVENTION 130
OF RIDICULE 134
OF COMMENDATION 137
OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE 142
OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS 150
OF FRIENDSHIP 153
OF LOVE 158
OF MARRIAGE 161
OF EDUCATION 167
OF TOLERANCE 177
OF SORROW 181
OF JOY 184
_SECOND SERIES._
INTRODUCTORY 189
OF CHEERFULNESS 192
OF YESTERDAY 197
OF TO-DAY 203
OF TO-MORROW 207
OF AUTHORSHIP 210
OF MYSTERY 219
OF GIFTS 227
OF BEAUTY 233
OF F | 2,076.554209 |
2023-11-16 18:51:40.9377930 | 1,540 | 10 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Chris Jordan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: (1.) GOAT.]
[Illustration: (2.) SEAL (BOLD GRAIN).]
[Illustration: (3.) SEAL (FINE GRAIN).]
LEATHER FOR LIBRARIES.
BY
E. WYNDHAM HULME, J. GORDON PARKER,
A. SEYMOUR-JONES, CYRIL DAVENPORT,
AND
F. J. WILLIAMSON
LONDON:
Published for the Sound Leather Committee of the
Library Association
by
THE LIBRARY SUPPLY Co.,
Bridge House, 181, Queen Victoria Street, E.C.
1905.
LIBRARY ASSOCIATION.
CONSTITUTION OF THE SOUND LEATHER
COMMITTEE.
CYRIL DAVENPORT, _British Museum Library_.
J. P. EDMOND, _Signet Library, Edinburgh_.
DR. J. GORDON PARKER, _London Leather Industries Laboratory,
Bermondsey_.
E. WYNDHAM HULME, _Patent Office Library_. (_Hon. Secretary._)
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page
History of Sumach Tanning in England, Degradation of
the Manufacture of Leather, and History of the Reform
Movement. By E. WYNDHAM HULME 5
CHAPTER II.
The Causes of Decay in Bookbinding Leathers. By
J. GORDON PARKER 15
CHAPTER III.
Provenance, Characteristics, and Values of Modern
Bookbinding Leathers. By A. SEYMOUR-JONES 29
CHAPTER IV.
The Repairing and Binding of Books for Public Libraries.
By CYRIL DAVENPORT 39
CHAPTER V.
Specification for the Fittings of a Small Bindery. By
F. J. WILLIAMSON 51
INDEX 55
_The Bancroft Library_
University of California · Berkeley
THE ROGER LEVENSON
MEMORIAL FUND
CHAPTER I.
History of Sumach Tanning
in England, Degradation of the
Manufacture of Leather, and History
of the Reform Movement.
BY
E. WYNDHAM HULME.
CHAPTER I.
The section of the leather trade to which this Handbook relates is
that concerned in the manufacture of light leathers tanned with a
pale tannage preparatory to being dyed. Bark and most other vegetable
tanning substances leave a colour on the skin which cannot be removed
without detriment to the durability of the leather; the retention of
the colour, however, detracts from the purity of the final colour
imparted by the dye. The reputation in the past of the sumach-tanned
Spanish leather was founded upon this peculiar property of sumach
of leaving the skin white, and on this point the wisdom of the
ancients has been justified by the results of an exhaustive series of
experiments conducted by the Society of Arts' Committee, which have
given to sumach the first place in the list of tannages for light
leathers.
The date of the introduction of sumach tanning into England may,
with some show of probability, be assigned to the year 1565, when
a seven years' monopoly patent was granted to two strangers, Roger
Heuxtenbury and Bartholomew Verberick, for the manufacture of
"Spanish or beyond sea leather," on the condition that the patentees
should employ one native apprentice for every foreigner in their
service. This stipulation indicates that the industry was a new one.
Following the custom of the times, the supervision of the industry was
entrusted to the "Wardens of the Company of Leathersellers in London."
Additional evidence of the use of sumach at this period is afforded by
another patent to a Spanish Jew, Roderigo Lopez, one of Elizabeth's
physicians. By way of settling her doctor's bills the Queen granted
to Lopez, in 1584, an exclusive licence to import sumach and aniseed
for ten years. Besides attending the Queen in his professional
capacity, Lopez was called upon to act as interpreter to the Portuguese
pretender, Don Antonio, on his visit to this island. As the result
of some misunderstanding with Antonio, Lopez was induced to join a
conspiracy nominally aimed against the life of Antonio, but actually
directed against the Queen, and in 1594 Lopez expiated his crimes at
Tyburn. Those who are curious in such matters will be interested to
trace in the "Merchant of Venice" the re-appearance of our sumach
merchant as Shylock, while the name of Antonio is boldly retained by
Shakespeare for his hero (Cf. S. Lee, "The Original of Shylock," in
the _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1880). After the arrest of Lopez, his
grant was continued to R. Alexander and R. Mompesson (Patent Roll, 36
Eliz., p. 11). In the Charter of the Leathersellers' Company, dated
1604, "Spanish leather and other leathers dressed or wrought in sumach
or bark" are mentioned. In 1660 the duty granted upon imported sumach
was fixed at 13s. 4d. per cwt. of 112 lbs., and on dried myrobalans
at 1s. 3d. per lb., thus disproving the statement of Prof. Thorold
Rogers in his "History of Prices" (Vol. 5, p. 414), that oak bark was
the only tanning material used in England at this period. The earliest
description known to the writer of the process of sumaching by sewing
up the skins into bottles and allowing the fluid extract to penetrate
the fibre by pressure, is to be found in 1754 in the "Dictionary of
Arts and Science" (Vol. 3, article "Morocco").
The first step in the degradation of the manufacture of light
leathers, though it at first affected the heavy leathers only, was
the introduction of the use of sulphuric acid in 1768 by Dr. McBride
of Dublin (_Phil. Trans._, 1778). By substituting a vitriolic liquor
for the vegetable acids obtained by fermenting bran, rye, or other
cereals, Dr. McBride claimed three advantages: (1) Absolute control
over the degree of acidity of the liquor, whereas organic souring was
troublesome and uncertain; (2) that the skins were "plumped" better
by the acid, and that the danger of injury to skins (by bacterial
action) was avoided; (3) that the process of tanning was materially
shortened. At all events, the Doctor succeeded in convincing first the | 2,076.957833 |
2023-11-16 18:51:40.9524690 | 3,424 | 409 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Shon McCarley and PG Distributed
Proofreaders
SHORT STORIES
OLD AND NEW
SELECTED AND EDITED
BY
C. ALPHONSO SMITH
EDGAR ALLAN POE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA, AUTHOR OF
"THE AMERICAN SHORT STORY," ETC.
1916
INTRODUCTION
Every short story has three parts, which may be called Setting or
Background, Plot or Plan, and Characters or Character. If you are going
to write a short story, as I hope you are, you will find it necessary to
think through these three parts so as to relate them interestingly and
naturally one to the other; and if you want to assimilate the best that
is in the following stories, you will do well to approach them by the
same three routes.
The Setting or Background gives us the time and the place of the story
with such details of custom, scenery, and dialect as time and place
imply. It answers the questions _When? Where?_ The Plot tells us what
happened. It gives us the incidents and events, the haps or mishaps,
that are interwoven to make up the warp and woof of the story. Sometimes
there is hardly any interweaving; just a plain plan or simple outline is
followed, as in "The Christmas Carol" or "The Great Stone Face." We may
still call the core of these two stories the Plot, if we want to, but
Plan would be the more accurate. This part of the story answers the
question _What_? Under the heading Characters or Character we study the
personalities of the men and women who move through the story and give
it unity and coherence. Sometimes, as in "The Christmas Carol" or
"Markheim," one character so dominates the others that they are mere
spokes in his hub or incidents in his career. But in "The Gift of the
Magi," though more space is given to Della, she and Jim act from the
same motive and contribute equally to the development of the story. In
one of our stories the main character is a dog, but he is so human that
we may still say that the chief question to be answered under this
heading is _Who?_
Many books have been written about these three parts of a short story,
but the great lesson to be learned is that the excellence of a story,
long or short, consists not in the separate excellence of the Setting or
of the Plot or of the Characters but in the perfect blending of the
three to produce a single effect or to impress a single truth. If the
Setting does not fit the Plot, if the Plot does not rise gracefully from
the Setting, if the Characters do not move naturally and
self-revealingly through both, the story is a failure. Emerson might
well have had our three parts of the short story in mind when he wrote,
All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
I. ESTHER, From the Old Testament
II. THE HISTORY OF ALI BABA AND THE FORTY ROBBERS, From "The
Arabian Nights"
III. RIP VAN WINKLE, By Washington Irving
IV. THE GOLD-BUG, By Edgar Allan Poe
V. A CHRISTMAS CAROL, By Charles Dickens
VI. THE GREAT STONE FACE, By Nathaniel Hawthorne
VII. RAB AND HIS FRIENDS, By Dr. John Brown
VIII. THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT, By Bret Harte
IX. MARKHEIM, By Robert Louis Stevenson
X. THE NECKLACE, By Guy de Maupassant
XI. THE MAN WHO WOULD BE KING, By Rudyard Kipling
XII. THE GIFT OF THE MAGI, By O. Henry
SHORT STORIES
I. ESTHER[*]
[* From the Old Testament, Authorized Version.]
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
[_Setting_. The events take place in Susa, the capital of Persia, in the
reign of Ahasuerus, or Xerxes (485-465 B.C.). This foreign locale
intensifies the splendid Jewish patriotism that breathes through the
story from beginning to end. If the setting had been in Jerusalem,
Esther could not have preached the noble doctrine, "When in Rome, don't
do as Rome does, but be true to the old ideals of home and race."
_Plot_. "Esther" seems to me the best-told story in the Bible. Observe
how the note of empty Persian bigness versus simple Jewish faith is
struck at the very beginning and is echoed to the end. Thus, Ahasuerus
ruled over one hundred and twenty-seven provinces, the opening banquet
lasted one hundred and eighty-seven days, the king's bulletins were as
unalterable as the tides, the gallows erected was eighty-three feet
high, the beds were of gold and silver upon a pavement of red and blue
and white and black marble, the money wrested from the Jews was to be
eighteen million dollars, etc. The word "banquet" occurs twenty times in
this short story and only twenty times in all the remaining thirty-eight
books of the Old Testament. In other words, Ahasuerus and his
trencher-mates ate and drank as much in five days as had been eaten and
drunk by all the other Old Testament characters from "Genesis" to
"Malachi."
Note also the contrast between the two queens, the two prime ministers,
the two edicts, and the two later banquets. The most masterly part of
the plot is the handling of events between these banquets. Read again
from chapter v, beginning at verse 9, through chapter vi, and note how
skillfully the pen is held. In motivation as well as in symmetry and
naturalness the story is without a peer. There is humor, too, in the
solemn deliberations over Vashti's "No" (chapter i, verses 12-22) and in
the strange procession led by pedestrian Haman (chapter vi, verses
6-11).
The purpose of the story was to encourage the feast of Purim (chapter
ix, verses 20-32) and to promote national solidarity. It may be compared
to "A Christmas Carol," which was written to restore the waning
celebration of Christmas, and to our Declaration of Independence, which
is re-read on every Fourth of July to quicken our sense of national
fellowship. But "Esther" is more than an institution. It is the old
story of two conflicting civilizations, one representing bigness, the
other greatness; one standing for materialism, the other for idealism;
one enthroning the body, the other the spirit.
_Characters_. These are finely individualized, though each seems to me a
type. Ahasuerus is a tank that runs blood or wine according to the hand
that turns the spigot. He was used for good but deserves and receives no
credit for it. No man ever missed a greater opportunity. He was brought
face to face with the two greatest world-civilizations of history; but,
understanding neither, he remains only a muddy place in the road along
which Greek and Hebrew passed to world-conquest. Haman, a blend of
vanity and cruelty and cowardice but not without some power of
initiative, was a fit minister for his king. He lives in history as one
who, better than in Hamlet's illustration, was "hoist with his own
petard," the petard in his case being a gallows. He typifies also the
just fate of the man who, spurred by the hate of one, includes in his
scheme of extermination a whole people. Collective vengeance never
received a better illustration nor a more exemplary punishment. Mordecai
is altogether admirable in refusing to kowtow to Haman and in his
unselfish devotion to his fair cousin, Esther. The noblest sentiment in
the book--"Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a
time as this?"--comes from Mordecai.
But the leading character is Esther, not because she was "fair and
beautiful" but because she was hospitable to the great thought suggested
by Mordecai. None but a Jew could have asked, "Who knoweth whether thou
art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" and none but a Jew
could have answered as Esther answered. The question implied a sense of
personal responsibility and of divine guidance far beyond the reach of
Persian or Mede or Greek of that time. It calls up many a quiet hour
when Esther and Mordecai talked together of their strange lot in this
heathen land and wondered if the time would ever come when they could
interpret their trials in terms of national service rather than of
meaningless fate. Imagine the blank and bovine expression that Ahasuerus
or Haman would have turned upon you if you had put such a question to
either of them. But in the case of Esther, Mordecai's appeal unlocked an
unused reservoir of power that has made her one of the world's heroines.
She had her faults, or rather her limitations, but since her time men
have gone to the stake, have built up and torn down principalities and
powers, on the dynamic conviction that they had been sent to the kingdom
"for such a time as this."]
CHAPTER I
THE STORY OF VASHTI
1. Now it came to pass in the days of Ahasuerus, (this is Ahasuerus
which reigned from India even unto Ethiopia, over a hundred and seven
and twenty provinces,)
2. That in those days, when the king Ahasuerus sat on the throne of his
kingdom, which was in Shushan the palace,
3. In the third year of his reign, he made a feast unto all his princes
and his servants; the power of Persia and Media, the nobles and princes
of the provinces, being before him:
4. When he shewed the riches of his glorious kingdom and the honour of
his excellent majesty many days, even a hundred and fourscore days.
5. And when these days were expired, the king made a feast unto all the
people that were present in Shushan the palace, both unto great and
small, seven days, in the court of the garden of the king's palace.
6. Where were white, green, and blue hangings, fastened with cords of
fine linen and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble: the beds
were of gold and silver, upon a pavement of red, and blue, and white,
and black marble.
7. And they gave them drink in vessels of gold, (the vessels being
diverse one from another,) and royal wine in abundance, according to the
state of the king.
8. And the drinking was according to the law; none did compel: for so
the king had appointed to all the officers of his house, that they
should do according to every man's pleasure.
9. Also Vashti the queen made a feast for the women in the royal house
which belonged to king Ahasuerus.
10. On the seventh day, when the heart of the king was merry with wine,
he commanded Mehuman, Biztha, Harbona, Bigtha, and Abagtha, Zethar, and
Carcas, the seven chamberlains that served in the presence of Ahasuerus
the king,
11. To bring Vashti the queen before the king with the crown royal, to
shew the people and the princes her beauty: for she was fair to look on.
12. But the queen Vashti refused to come at the king's commandment by
his chamberlains: therefore was the king very wroth, and his anger
burned in him.
13. Then the king said to the wise men, which knew the times, (for so
was the king's manner toward all that knew law and judgment:
14. And the next unto him was Carshena, Shethar, Admatha, Tarshish,
Meres, Marsena, and Memucan, the seven princes of Persia and Media,
which saw the king's face, and which sat the first in the kingdom,)
15. What shall we do unto the queen Vashti according to law, because she
hath not performed the commandment of the king Ahasuerus by the
chamberlains?
16. And Memucan answered before the king and the princes, Vashti the
queen hath not done wrong to the king only, but also to all the princes,
and to all the people that are in all the provinces of the king
Ahasuerus.
17. For this deed of the queen shall come abroad unto all women, so that
they shall despise their husbands in their eyes, when it shall be
reported, The king Ahasuerus commanded Vashti the queen to be brought in
before him, but she came not.
18. Likewise shall the ladies of Persia and Media say this day unto all
the king's princes, which have heard of the deed of the queen. Thus
shall there arise too much contempt and wrath.
19. If it please the king, let there go a royal commandment from him,
and let it be written among the laws of the Persians and the Medes, that
it be not altered, That Vashti come no more before king Ahasuerus; and
let the king give her royal estate unto another that is better than she.
20. And when the king's decree, which he shall make, shall be published
throughout all his empire, (for it is great,) all the wives shall give
to their husbands honour, both to great and small.
21. And the saying pleased the king and the princes; and the king did
according to the word of Memucan:
22. For he sent letters into all the king's provinces, into every
province according to the writing thereof, and to every people after
their language, that every man should bear rule in his own house, and
that it should be published according to the language of every people.
CHAPTER II
ESTHER MADE QUEEN
1. After these things, when the wrath of king Ahasuerus was appeased, he
remembered Vashti, and what she had done, and what was decreed against
her.
2. Then said the king's servants that ministered unto him, Let there be
fair young virgins sought for the king:
3. And let the king appoint officers in all the provinces of his
kingdom, that they may gather together all the fair young virgins unto
Shushan the palace, to the house of the women, unto the custody of Hegai
the king's chamberlain, keeper of the women; and let their things for
purification be given them:
4. And let the maiden which pleaseth the king be queen instead of
Vashti. And the thing pleased the king; and he did so.
5. Now in Shushan the palace there was a certain Jew, whose name was
Mordecai, the son of Jair, the son of Shimei, the son of Kish, a
Benjamite;
6. Who had been carried away from Jerusalem with the captivity which had
been carried away with Jeconiah king of Judah, whom Nebuchadnezzar the
king of Babylon had carried away.
7. And he brought up Hadassah, that is, Esther, his uncle's daughter:
for she had neither father nor mother, and the maid was fair and
beautiful; whom Mordecai, when her father and mother were dead, took for
his own daughter.
8. So it came to pass, when the king's commandment and his decree was
heard, and when many maid | 2,076.972509 |
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: Conq^r). Multiple superscripted characters are
enclosed by curly brackets (example: Esq^{re}).
THE STATELY HOMES OF ENGLAND
by
LLEWELLYNN JEWITT, F.S.A., ETC., ETC.
and
S. C. HALL, F.S.A.
Complete in Two Series.
Illustrated with Three Hundred and Eighty Engravings on Wood
New York
A. W. Lovering, Importer.
INTRODUCTION.
ENGLAND is rich—immeasurably richer than any other country under the
sun—in its “Homes;” and these homes, whether of the sovereign or of
the high nobility, of the country squire or the merchant-prince, of the
artisan or the labourer, whether, in fact, they are palace or cottage,
or of any intermediate grade, have a character possessed by none other.
England, whose
“Home! sweet home!”
has become almost a national anthem—so closely is its sentiment
entwined around the hearts of the people of every class—is, indeed,
emphatically a Kingdom of Homes; and these, and their associations and
surroundings, and the love which is felt for them, are its main source
of true greatness. An Englishman feels, wherever he may be, that
“Home _is_ home, however lowly;”
and that, despite the attractions of other countries and the glare and
brilliancy of foreign courts and foreign phases of society, after all
“There’s no place like home”
in his own old fatherland.
Beautifully has the gifted poet, Mrs. Hemans, sung of English “Homes,”
and charmingly has she said—
“The Stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand
Amidst their tall ancestral trees
O’er all the pleasant land!”
and thus given to us a title for our present work. Of these “Stately
Homes” of our “pleasant land” we have chosen some few for illustration,
not for their stateliness alone, but because the true nobility of
their owners allows their beauties, their splendour, their picturesque
surroundings, and their treasures of art to be seen and enjoyed by all.
Whether “stately” in their proportions or in their style of
architecture, in their internal decorations or their outward
surroundings, in the halo of historical associations which encircle
them, or in the families which have made their greatness, and whose
high and noble characters have given them an enduring interest, these
“Homes” are indeed a fitting and pleasant subject for pen and pencil.
The task of their illustration has been a peculiarly grateful one to
us, and we have accomplished it with loving hands, and with a sincere
desire to make our work acceptable to a large number of readers.
In the first instance, our notices of these “Stately Homes” appeared in
the pages of the _Art-Journal_, for which, indeed, they were specially
prepared, with the ultimate intention, now carried out, of issuing them
in a collected form. They have, however, now been rearranged, and have
received considerable, and in many instances very important, additions.
The present volume may be looked upon as the first of a short series
of volumes devoted to this pleasant and fascinating subject; others
of a similar character, embracing many equally beautiful, equally
interesting, and equally “stately” Homes will follow.
LLEWELLYNN JEWITT.
WINSTER HALL, DERBYSHIRE.
CONTENTS OF FIRST SERIES.
PAGE
I.—ALTON TOWERS, STAFFORDSHIRE 1
II.—COBHAM HALL, KENT 37
III.—MOUNT EDGCUMBE, DEVONSHIRE 54
IV.—COTHELE, CORNWALL 70
V.—ALNWICK CASTLE, NORTHUMBERLAND 78
VI.—HARDWICK HALL, DERBYSHIRE 116
VII.—ARUNDEL CASTLE | 2,077.154405 |
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available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/greekphilosoph02benn
Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work.
Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57126
Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Footnotes are at the end of the book.
THE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS
VOL. II.
THE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS
by
ALFRED WILLIAM BENN
Εὑρηκέναι μὲν οὖν τινὰς τῶν ἀρχαίων καὶ μακαρίων φιλοσόφων
τὸ ἀληθὲς δεῖ νομίζειν· τίνες δὲ οἱ τυχόντες μάλιστα καὶ πῶς ἂν
καὶ ἡμῖν σύνεσις περὶ τούτων γένοιτο ἐπισκέψασθαι προσήκει
PLOTINUS
Quamquam ab his philosophiam et omnes ingenuas disciplinas
habemus: sed tamen est aliquid quod nobis non liceat, liceat illis
CICERO
In Two Volumes
VOL. II.
London
Kegan Paul, Trench, & Co., 1 Paternoster Square
1882
(The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved)
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
THE STOICS pages 1-52
I. Why the systems of Plato and Aristotle failed to secure a hold
on contemporary thought, 1—Fate of the schools which they founded,
2—Revival of earlier philosophies and especially of naturalism,
3—Antisthenes and the Cynics, 4—Restoration of naturalism to its former
dignity, 6.
II. Zeno and Crates, 7—Establishment of the Stoic school, 8—Cleanthes
and Chrysippus, 9—Encyclopaedic character of the Stoic teaching, 9—The
great place which it gave to physical science, 10—Heracleitean reaction
against the dualism of Aristotle, 11—Determinism and materialism of the
Stoics, 12—Their concessions to the popular religion, 14.
III. The Stoic theory of cognition purely empirical, 15—Development of
formal logic, 16—New importance attributed to judgment as distinguished
from conception, 16—The idea of law, 17—Consistency as the principle
of the Stoic ethics, 18—Meaning of the precept, Follow Nature,
19—Distinction between pleasure and self-interest as moral standards,
20—Absolute sufficiency of virtue for happiness, 21—The Stoics wrong
from an individual, right from a social point of view, 22—Theory
of the passions, 23—Necessity of volition and freedom of judgment,
24—Difficulties involved in an appeal to purpose in creation, 24.
IV. The Stoic paradoxes follow logically from the absolute distinction
between right and wrong, 25—Attempt at a compromise with the ordinary
morality by the doctrines (i.) of preference and objection, 26—(ii.) of
permissible feeling, 27—(iii.) of progress from folly to wisdom, 27—and
(iv.) of imperfect duties, 27—Cicero’s _De Officiis_, 28—Examples of
Stoic casuistry, 29—Justification of suicide, 30.
V. Three great contributions made by the Stoics to ethical speculation,
(i.) The inwardness of virtue, including the notion of conscience,
31—Prevalent misconception with regard to the Erinyes, 32—(ii.) The
individualisation of duty, 33—Process by which this idea was evolved,
35—Its influence on the Romans of the empire, 36—(iii.) The idea of
humanity, 36—Its connexion with the idea of Nature, 37—Utilitarianism
of the Stoics, 38.
VI. The philanthropic tendencies of Stoicism partly neutralised by
its extreme individualism, 40—Conservatism of Marcus Aurelius, 41—The
Stoics at once unpitying and forgiving, 42—Humility produced by their
doctrine of universal depravity, 42—It is not in the power of others to
injure us, 43—The Stoic satirists and Roman society, 44.
VII. The idea of Nature and the unity of mankind, 44—The dynamism of
Heracleitus dissociated from the teleology of Socrates, 46—Standpoint
of Marcus Aurelius, 46—Tendency to extricate morality from its external
support, 47—Modern attacks on Nature, 48—Evolution as an ethical
sanction, 49—The vicious circle of evolutionist ethics, 50—The idea of
humanity created and maintained by the idea of a cosmos, 51—The prayer
of Cleanthes, 52.
CHAPTER II.
EPICURUS AND LUCRETIUS pages 53-119
I. Stationary character of Epicureanism, 53—Prevalent tendency to
exaggerate its scientific value, 55—Opposition or indifference of
Epicurus to the science of his time, 57.
II. Life of Epicurus, 58—His philosophy essentially practical, 59—The
relation of pleasure to virtue: Aristippus, 60—Pessimism of Hêgêsias,
61—Hedonism of Plato’s _Protagoras_, 61—The Epicurean definition of
pleasure, 62—Reaction of Plato’s idealism on Epicurus, 63—He accepts
the negative definition of pleasure, 64—Inconsistency involved in his
admissions, 65.
III. Deduction of the particular virtues: Temperance, 66—Points of
contact with Cynicism, 66—Evils bred by excessive frugality, 67—Sexual
passion discouraged by Epicureanism, 67—Comparative indulgence shown
to pity and grief, 68—Fortitude inculcated by minimising the evils of
pain, 69—Justice as a regard for the general interest, 70—The motives
for abstaining from aggression purely selfish, 70—Indifference of the
Epicureans to political duties, 73—Success of Epicureanism in promoting
disinterested friendship, 74.
IV. Motives which led Epicurus to include physics in his teaching,
75—His attacks on supernaturalism directed less against the old
Polytheism than against the religious movement whence Catholicism
sprang, 76—Justification of the tone taken by Lucretius, 78—Plato and
Hildebrand, 78—Concessions made by Epicurus to the religious reaction,
80—His criticism of the Stoic theology, 81.
V. Why Epicurus adopted the atomic theory, 82—Doctrine of infinite
combinations, 83—Limited number of | 2,077.501533 |
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E-text prepared by Andrew Turek and revised and annotated by Joseph E.
Loewenstein, M.D.
THE KELLYS AND THE O'KELLYS
by
ANTHONY TROLLOPE
Contents
I. The Trial
II. The Two Heiresses
III. Morrison's Hotel
IV. The Dunmore Inn
V. A Loving Brother
VI. The Escape
VII. Mr Barry Lynch Makes a Morning Call
VIII. Mr Martin Kelly Returns to Dunmore
IX. Mr Daly, the Attorney
X. Dot Blake's Advice
XI. The Earl | 2,077.583707 |
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E-text prepared by Lazar Liveanu and Project Gutenberg Distributed
Proofreaders
FROM YAUCO TO LAS MARIAS
A Recent Campaign in Puerto Rico by the Independent Regular Brigade
under the command of BRIG. GENERAL SCHWAN
by
KARL STEPHEN HERRMAN
[Illustration: Theodore Schwan, Brigadier-General U.S. Volunteers.]
TO ROBERT SMITH COBB
MY BROTHER LORD IN CERTAIN ISLES OF FRIENDSHIP AND OWNER OF PRECIOUS CARGO
IN MY SHIP OF DREAMS
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I
The Independent Regular Brigade
Place of meeting--Forces comprised by the command--Why we were not like the
Volunteers--Characteristics of the professional soldier--Sketches of the
more important officers--What we were ordered to do.
CHAPTER II
The First Day's March
Disposition of our column--The road to Sabana Grande--The infantrymen's
burden--Wayside hospitality--Hard tack and repartee--Into camp and under
blankets--Arrival of Macomb's troop--A smoke-talk.
CHAPTER III
The People of Puerto Rico
Their attitude toward the invading Americans--The proclamation of General
Miles--Justice and the private soldier--Depravity of the native masses--Men
and women of the better class--Local attributes of life--A hint to the
weary.
CHAPTER IV
The Second Day Begins
We march to San German--Removal of the sick from the ambulances--An
approaching Spanish force--Our scouts and their leader--Concerning Senor
Fijardo--Visible effects of imminent battle--Something about the town of
San German.
CHAPTER V
The Engagement at Hormigueros
Topography of the battlefield--Macomb's cavalry fired into by Spanish
skirmishers--Our advance-guard comes into contact with the foe--General
Schwan reaches the firing line--The main body arrives and joins in
the fray--Subsequent manoeuvres of our column--The Spanish retreat--A
computation of losses.
CHAPTER VI
The Second Day Ends
A personal resume of the fight--Lack of melodramatic accompaniments--A lost
chance of glory--Another neglected opportunity--A glimpse of the flag--Once
more into camp.
CHAPTER VII
The Occupation of Mayaguez
We enter the city in triumph--An enthusiastic reception--A pretty girl
and the star-spangled banner--Other memorable incidents--Our rags and
tatters--A description of Mayaguez--We pitch our tents in a swamp--The
First Kentucky Volunteers.
CHAPTER VIII
The Engagement at Las Marias
Difficulties encountered in locating the retreating enemy--Final
determination upon pursuit--Lieutenant-Colonel Burke sets forth--Discovery
of Spanish troops near Las Marias--A one-sided encounter--Unwelcome
notification of truce--The rest of the brigade comes up--Feeding the
prisoners--Our disappointment.
CHAPTER IX
The Territory Won
General Schwan returns to Mayaguez--Business and pleasure--A custom
we abolished--Extent of the district captured by our brigade
--Aguadilla--Facilities for transportation--Labor and the
laborer--The cost of living--Rents and real estate--Skilled workmen--A word
about investments.
CHAPTER X
The End of the Campaign
Arrival of the mail-steamer--The soldier-boy and his letters--The greater
part of the brigade is quartered in Mayaguez--Agriculture in Puerto
Rico--Material result of our campaign--A farewell order--General Schwan
departs for the United States.
A Brief Sketch of the Life of Brigadier-General Schwan
APPENDIX
THE ILLUSTRATIONS
Theodore Schwan, Brigadier-General U.S. Volunteers
Statue of Columbus, Mayaguez
American Cavalry entering Mayaguez on the 11th of August
The Public Fountain in Aguadilla, a Favorite Rendezvous
for Runaway Lovers
Plaza Principal, Mayaguez. Town Hall in Background
Spanish Prisoners who were brought from Las Marias to Mayaguez
Plaza Principal, Mayaguez. A Public Celebration of the New Flag's Advent,
under the Auspices of the Local School-teachers and their Pupils
The Plaza of San German on Market-day
Lower Quarter of Mayaguez
A Mid-section of the Calle Mendez-Vigo, Mayaguez
Positions occupied by Spanish Soldiers in the Skirmish at Hormigueros
Railroad from Mayaguez to Aguadilla
The Theatre, Mayaguez
Custom-house at Mayaguez occupied by General Schwan as Brigade
Headquarters
Road from Mayaguez to Anasco
Lower End of the Calle de Mendez-Vigo, Mayaguez
Guenar Bridge, Mayaguez
Upper End of the Calle Mendez-Vigo, Mayaguez
The Town of Sabana Grande
Witch River, near Cabo Rojo
American Camp at Mayaguez
Plaza Mercado, Mayaguez
Mouth of the Mayaguez River
A Bit of Yauco
Wooden Dock at Mayaguez. In the Offing can be seen the German Man-of-war
"Geier"
"Eleventh of August" Street
The Officers of the Alphonso XIII Regiment of Cazadores, taken a few days
before the Fight with the American Troops at Hormigueros
The Military Hospital, Mayaguez
Part of the Village of Maricao
Infantry Barracks, Mayaguez
The Rosario River, near Hormigueros
A Street in San German
Tobacco Plantation (cutting leaves), Mayaguez
The Plaza Principal in Mayaguez looking toward the Church
A Ruined Church along our Line of March
A Puerto Rican Laundry
Watering the Artillery Horses at Yauco
A Native Bull-team
On the Road to Lares
The Best Outfit in our Wagon Train
"Promenade of the Fleas" in Yauco
When only One Man gets a Letter
The "Weary Travellers' Spring," near Anasco
A Crude Sugar Mill near Las Marias
A very Popular Spot
Two Knights and a Pawn
INTRODUCTION
I have ventured to set down in this place the following bald and brief
items of our recent history, not because I doubt an already existing common
knowledge of their substance, but simply because they serve to illuminate
and give finish to the succeeding narrative.
Major-General Miles sailed from Guantanamo, Cuba, on the 21st of July,
1898; and landed at Guanica, Puerto Rico, on the 25th of the same month.
The troops sailing with him numbered 3,554 officers and men, mainly
composed of volunteers from Massachusetts, Illinois, and the District
of Columbia, with a complement of regulars in five batteries of light
artillery, thirty-four privates from the battalion of engineers, and
detachments of recruits, signal, and hospital corps.
On August 1st he was re-enforced by General Schwan's brigade of the Fourth
Army Corps and part of General Wilson's division of the First Corps,
raising his numerical strength to 9,641 officers and men. The Spanish
forces in Puerto Rico at that time numbered some 18,000, about evenly
divided between regulars and volunteers, and scattered advantageously over
3,700 square miles of territory. By the end of August the American strength
had nearly doubled.
In the brief campaign that followed, a large part of the island was
captured by the United States forces, and the positions of all the Spanish
garrisons, except that at San Juan, were made untenable. There were
altogether six engagements,--at Guanica Road, Guayamo (2), Coamo,
Hormigueros, Aibonito, and Las Marias,--with a total loss to the Spaniards
of about 450 killed and wounded, while the American casualties of the same
nature amounted to 43.
General Miles, in his scheme of operations, intended that three columns
of our troops--each composed of infantry, cavalry, artillery, and their
adjuncts--should march through the eastern, western, and central parts of
the island, respectively, diverging at Ponce and coalescing before San
Juan. The entire success of this plan was prevented only by the arrival of
the order to suspend hostilities, on the 13th of August.
The column marching east--known as the First Division, First Army
Corps--was commanded by Major-General James H. Wilson, and took part in
three engagements. The column sent through the interior--known as the
Provisional Division--was commanded by Brigadier-General Guy V. Henry, and
met no opposition of moment.
The third column, called the Independent Regular Brigade, and directed
to proceed through the western section of the island, was commanded by
Brigadier-General Theodore Schwan, and had two engagements with the
Alphonso XIII Regiment of Cazadores.
It is the story of General Schwan's campaign that I am about to relate.
CHAPTER I
The Independent Regular Brigade
_Place of meeting_--_Forces comprised by the command_--_Why we were
not like the Volunteers_--_Characteristics of the professional
soldier_--_Sketches of the more important officers_--_What we were ordered
to do_.
Yauco, the place selected by General Miles as a rendezvous for the troops
of the Independent Regular Brigade, is a town of about 15,000 inhabitants,
and some six miles distant from Guanica. It is connected both by rail and
wagon-road with Ponce, the largest city on the island, and is noted for its
Spanish proclivities, fine climate, excellent running water, and setting of
mountains--luxuriantly green throughout the year.
Here were assembled on the evening of Aug. 8, 1898, all the forces assigned
to General Schwan, with the exception of Troop "A," Fifth Cavalry, which
did not appear until some thirty hours later. The command was composed of
the Eleventh Infantry, Light Battery "D" of the Fifth Artillery, Light
Battery "C" of the Third Artillery, and the troop of cavalry already
mentioned,--all regulars, and as resolute and picturesque a set of men as
ever wore the uniform of war.
* * * * *
Because we had no Volunteers with us, we were not granted even one little
word-spattering newspaper scribe, and so relinquished at the outset any
fugitive hopes of glory that otherwise might have been entertained. We were
out for business,--hard marching, hard living, hard fighting,--and the
opening vista was fringed with gore. We were none of us the darlings of any
particular State, nor the precious offspring of a peripatetic statesman
with a practised pull. We were at no time decimated by disease through
ignorant or insubordinate disregard of the primary principles of hygiene.
We didn't write long wailing letters home because we were obliged to sleep
on the damp ground, and had neither hot rolls, chocolate, nor marmalade for
breakfast. We were ragged, hungry, tough, and faithful. In other words, we
were regular army men, and, most distinctly, _not_ Volunteers.
[Illustration: Statue of Columbus, Mayague | 2,077.972787 |
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Young Castellan, by George Manville Fenn.
________________________________________________________________________
A Castellan is a person in charge of a castle, and that is what young
Roy Royland has become, while his father, Sir Granby, is away defending
his king. For the time is about 1640, and there is a move afoot in the
country of England to do away with the monarchy. In the castle most of
its old defences have not been used for many years, perhaps centuries,
and old Ben Martlet sets about restoring them, cleaning up the armour,
teaching young Roy the arts of self-defence, by putting him through a
course of fencing, by restoring the portcullis and draw-bridge, and by
training the men from the neighbouring farms to be soldiers.
But eventually, through treachery, the Roundheads, as those who oppose
the monarchy, are called, manage to take the castle, and to make Roy and
his mother, along with old Ben Martlet and the other defenders,
prisoner. This can't do the management of the tenant farms much good.
Eventually Sir Granby, Roy's father, appears on the scene, and the
Roundheads are chased away. As we know from our history books, the
Monarchy was restored, and peace spreads again through the land of
England.
________________________________________________________________________
THE YOUNG CASTELLAN, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
IN THE OLD ARMOURY.
"See these here spots o' red rust, Master Roy?"
"I should be blind as poor old Jenkin if I couldn't, Ben."
"Ay, that you would, sir. Poor old Jenk, close upon ninety he be; and
that's another thing."
"What do you mean?" said the boy addressed.
"What do I mean, sir? Why, I mean as that's another thing as shows as
old England's wore out, and rustin' and moulderin' away."
"Is this Dutch or English, Ben?" said the manly-looking boy, who had
just arrived at the age when dark lads get teased about not having
properly washed the sides of their faces and their upper lips, which
begin to show traces of something "coming up." "I don't understand."
"English, sir," said the weather-beaten speaker, a decidedly ugly man of
about sixty, grizzly of hair and beard, deeply-lined of countenance, and
with a peculiar cicatrice extending from the upper part of his left
cheek-bone diagonally down to the right corner of his lips, and making
in its passage a deep notch across his nose. "English, sir; good old
honest English."
"You're always grumbling, Ben, and you won't get the rust off that
morion with that."
"That I shan't, sir; and if I uses elber grease and sand, it'll only
come again. But it's all a sign of poor old England rustin' and
moulderin' away. The idea! And at a place like this. Old Jenk, as
watch at the gate tower, and not got eyes enough to see across the moat,
and even that's getting full o' mud!"
"Well, you wouldn't have father turn the poor old man away because he's
blind and worn-out."
"Not I, sir," said the man, moistening a piece of flannel with oil,
dipping it into some fine white sand, and then proceeding to scrub away
at the rust spots upon the old helmet, which he now held between his
knees; while several figures in armour, ranged down one side of the low,
dark room in which the work was being carried on, seemed to be looking
on and waiting to have their rust removed in turn.
"Then what do you mean?" said the boy.
"I mean, Master Roy, as it's a pity to see the old towers going down
hill as they are."
"But they're not," cried the boy.
"Not, sir? Well, if you'll excuse me for saying as you're wrong, I'll
say it. Where's your garrison? where's your horses? and where's your
guns, and powder, and shot, and stores?"
"Fudge, then! We don't want any garrison nowadays, and as for horses,
why, it was a sin to keep 'em in those old underground stables that used
to be their lodging. Any one would think you expected to have some one
come and lay siege to the place."
"More unlikely things than that, Master Roy. We live in strange times,
and the king may get the worst of it any day."
"Oh, you old croaker!" cried Roy. "I believe you'd like to have a lot
more men in the place, and mount guard, and go on drilling and
practising with the big guns."
"Ay, sir, I should; and with a place like this, it's what ought to be
done."
"Well, it wouldn't be bad fun, Ben," said the boy, thoughtfully.
"Fun, sir? Don't you get calling serious work like that fun.--But look
ye there. Soon chevy these spots off, don't I?"
"Yes, it's getting nice and bright," said Roy, gazing down at the steel
headpiece.
"And it's going to get brighter and better before I've done. I'm going
to let Sir Granby see when he comes back that I haven't neglected
nothing. I'm a-going to polish up all on 'em in turn, beginning with
old Sir Murray Royland. Let me see: he was your greatest grandfather,
wasn't he?"
"Yes, he lived in 1480," said the boy, as the old man rose, set down the
morion, and followed him to where the farthest suit of mail stood
against the wall. "I say, Ben, this must have been very heavy to wear."
"Ay, sir, tidy; but, my word, it was fine for a gentleman in those days
to mount his horse, shining in the sun, and looking as noble as a man
could look. He's a bit spotty, though, it's been so damp. But I'll
begin with Sir Murray and go right down 'em all, doing the steeliest
ones first, and getting by degrees to the last on 'em as is only steel
half-way down, and the rest being boots. Ah! it's a dolesome change
from Sir Murray to Sir Brian yonder at the end, and worse still, to your
father, as wouldn't put nothing on but a breast-piece and back-piece and
a steel cap."
"Why, it's best," said the boy; "steel armour isn't wanted so much now
they've got cannon and guns."
"Ay, that's a sad come-down too, sir. Why, even when I was out under
your grandfather, things were better and fighting fairer. People tried
to see who was best man then with their swords. Now men goes to hide
behind hedges and haystacks, to try and shoot you like they would a
hare."
"Why, they did the same sort of thing with their bows and arrows, Ben,
and their cross-bows and bolts."
"Well, maybe, sir; but that was a clean kind o' fighting, and none of
your sulphur and brimstone, and charcoal and smoke."
"I say | 2,078.35416 |
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[Illustration: The Lone Wolf
(_See page 61_)]
_Days Before History_
_UNIFORM WITH THIS BOOK_
In Nature’s School
_By_ LILIAN GASK
_With Sixteen exquisite Full-page Illustrations and a Title-page Design_
_By_ DOROTHY HARDY
THIS STORY details the experiences of a sensitive boy who, in a moment
of revolt, flees from the oppression of some cruel schoolfellows into
the woods, where he meets Nature, | 2,078.45642 |
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[Illustration: Cover]
Travelers Five
Along Life's Highway
Works of ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
The Little Colonel Series
(_Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of._)
Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated
The Little Colonel Stories $1.50
(Containing in one volume the three stories, "The
Little Colonel," "The Giant Scissors," and "Two
Little Knights of Kentucky.")
The Little Colonel's House Party 1.50
The Little Colonel's Holidays 1.50
The Little Colonel's Hero 1.50
The Little Colonel at Boarding-School 1.50
The Little Colonel in Arizona 1.50
The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation 1.50
The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor 1.50
The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding 1.50
Mary Ware: The Little Colonel's Chum 1.50
Mary Ware in Texas 1.50
The above 11 vols., _boxed_ with The Little Colonel's Good
Times Book, as a set of 12 vols 18.00
* * * * *
The Little Colonel Good Times Book 1.50
The Little Colonel Doll Book 1.50
Illustrated Holiday Editions
Each one vol., small quarto, cloth, illustrated, and printed in colour
The Little Colonel $1.25
The Giant Scissors 1.25
Two Little Knights of Kentucky 1.25
Big Brother 1.25
Cosy Corner Series
Each one vol., thin 12mo, cloth, illustrated
The Little Colonel $.50
The Giant Scissors .50
Two Little Knights of Kentucky .50
Big Brother .50
Ole Mammy's Torment .50
The Story of <DW55> .50
Cicely .50
Aunt 'Liza's Hero .50
The Quilt that Jack Built .50
Flip's "Islands of Providence" .50
Mildred's Inheritance .50
Other Books
Joel: A Boy of Galilee $1.50
In the Desert of Waiting .50
The Three Weavers .50
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L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: TRAVELERS FIVE ALONG LIFE'S HIGHWAY]
Travelers Five
Along Life's Highway
Jimmy, Gideon Wiggan, The Clown, Wexley Snathers, Bap. Sloan
BY
Annie Fellows Johnston
Author of "The Little Colonel Series," "Asa Holmes,"
"Joel: A Boy of Galilee," etc.
With a Foreword by
Bliss Carman
Frontispiece in full colour from a painting by
Edmund H. Garrett
[Illustration: Emblem]
L. C. Page & Company
Boston [Illustration: Flower] Mdccccxi
_Copyright, 1901, 1904, by_
THE SHORTSTORY PUBLISHING COMPANY
_Copyright, 1899, by_
THE S. S. MCCLURE CO.
_Copyright, 1903, by_
THE CENTURY CO.
_Copyright, 1911, by_
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
First impression, October, 1911
_Electrotyped and Printed by
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston. U. S. A._
Foreword
OF all the elements that go to make up a good story,--plot,
verisimilitude, happy incident, local colour, excellent style,--none
perhaps is more important than the touch of understanding sympathy. The
writer must not only see his characters clearly and draw them with a
masterly hand; he must have the largeness of heart that can share in all
the turbulent experience of the human spirit. His people must be set
against the vast shifting background of destiny. He must show their
dramatic relations, one to another, and the influence of life upon life;
he must also show their profounder, more moving and mysterious,
relations to fate and time and the infinite things.
The writer of fiction creates for us a mimic country, peoples it with
creatures of the fancy, like ourselves and yet different, and asks us to
stray for our entertainment through that new kingdom. The scenes may be
as strange or as familiar as you please; the characters as commonplace
or as exceptional as you will; yet they must always be within the range
of our sympathy. The incidents must be such as we ourselves could pass
through; the people must be such as we can understand. They may well be
exceptional, for that enlists our interest and enlivens our curiosity;
they must not be beyond our comprehension nor outside our spiritual
pale, for then we could have no sympathy with them, and our hearts would
only grow cold as we read.
And what is at the base of our sympathy and interest? Nothing but our
common life. They, too,--all the glad or sorrowing children of
imaginative literature from Helen of Troy to Helena Richie--are
travelers like ourselves on the great highway. We know well how
difficult a road it is, how rough, how steep, how dangerous, how boggy,
how lined with pitfalls, how bordered with gardens of deadly delights,
how beset by bandits, how noisy with fakirs, how overhung with poisonous
fruit and swept by devastating storms. We know also what stretches of
happiness are there, what days of friendship, what hours of love, what
sane enjoyment, what rapturous content.
How should we not, then, be interested in all that goes by upon that
great road? We like to sit at our comfortable windows, when the fire is
alight or the summer air is soft, and "watch the pass," as they say in
Nantucket,--what our neighbours are about, and what strangers are in
town. If we live in a small community, there is the monotony of our
daily routine to be relieved. When an unknown figure passes down the
street, we may enjoy the harmless excitement of novelty and taste
something of the keen savour of adventure. If we are dwellers in a great
city, where every passer is unknown, there is still the discoverer's
zest in larger measure; every moment is great with possibility; every
face in the throng holds its secret; every figure is eloquent of human
drama. The pageant is endless, its story never finished. Who, indeed,
could not be spellbound, beholding that countless changing
tatterdemalion caravan go by? Yet all we may hope for of the inner
history of these journeying beings, so humanly amazing, so significant,
and all moved like ourselves by springs of joy and fear, hope and
discouragement, is a glimpse here and there, a life-story revealed in a
single gesture, a tragic history betrayed in the tone of a voice or the
lifting of a hand, or perhaps a heaven of gladness in a glancing smile.
For the most part their orbits are as aloof from us as the courses of
the stars, potent and mystic manifestations of the divine, glowing
puppets of the eternal masked in a veil of flesh.
This was the pomp of history which held the mind of Shakespeare, of
Dickens, of Cervantes, of Balzac, in thrall, and drew the inquiring eye
of Browning and Whitman, of Stevenson and Borrow, with so charmed and
comprehending a look. To understand and set down faithfully some small
portion of the tale of this ever changing procession, which is for ever
appearing over the sunrise hills of to-m | 2,078.458878 |
2023-11-16 18:51:42.5343610 | 3,360 | 86 |
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GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
VOL. XXXV. October, 1849. No. 4.
Table of Contents
Fiction, Literature and Other Articles
A Year and a Day
The Engraver’s Daughter
Jasper St. Aubyn
The Recreant Missionary
Minnie Clifton
Ibad’s Vision
A Harmless Glass of Wine
The Village Schoolmaster
An Adventure of Jasper C——
Effie Deans
Wild-Birds of America
Editor’s Table: The Means of a Man’s Lasting Fame
Review of New Books
Poetry, Music, and Fashion
Alice
The Fountain in Winter
A Parting Song
The Light of Life
The Bride of Broek-in-Waterland
Song
Northampton
A Thought
Speak Out
The Willow by the Spring
We Are Changed
Le Follet
I Love, When the Morning Beams
Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.
* * * * *
[Illustration: L. Clennell, pinx. A. L. Dick sc.
THE BAGGAGE WAGGON.
Engraved Expressly for Graham’s Magazine.]
GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
VOL. XXXV. PHILADELPHIA, OCTOBER, 1849. NO. 4.
* * * * *
A YEAR AND A DAY:
OR THE WILL.
BY MRS. CAROLINE H. BUTLER.
CHAPTER I.
There was once in the city of Philadelphia a poor author whom chilling
disappointments and the biting stings of adversity had brought nigh the
grave—whose high hopes, ardent ambition, and glowing aspirations for
fame, were all quenched and broken beneath the pressure of penury and
wo. The wife, too, of his bosom had passed on to the shadowy land before
him, and now beckoned him to that blissful home beyond the grave where
sorrow and trouble are unknown. One fond tie still bound him to life. He
was a father. No other guide—no other friend had that fair young girl,
over whose innocent head scarce sixteen summers had flown, and for her
sake he still clung to a world whose charms else had long ceased to
attract.
And there was an old man whom the world called unfeeling and miserly,
who day by day passed by the humble home of the author. And day by day
as he passed along, saw at the window a pale young face bent over the
endless seam, and a small white hand never tiring busily plying the
needle. Or sometimes marked the child’s own feeble strength tasked to
support the tottering steps of suffering manhood to the open window,
that the air of heaven might revive that languid frame, while the
hollow, racking cough, and the fever spot on the cheek, like a rose
rooted in the grave and blossoming in beauty above, told too plainly
consumption had made its victim sure.
And then one day when the window was darkened, and he missed the pale
young face, the heart of the old man smote him as he passed along, and
turning he gently sought admittance, and from that time over the bed of
the sufferer the thin, white locks of the old man mingled with the
golden ringlets of Florence.
Heaven surely had first softened his heart, and then guided his
footsteps thither, for, like a ministering angel he came to the house of
sorrow to soothe the last moments of the dying man, and protect the
fatherless child.
Cheered once more by the voice of kindness—his feeble frame invigorated
by healthful nourishment—surrounded by comforts long unknown, or
remembered but as a dream in the dark night of poverty he had passed
through—what wonder the sick man rallied, and for a time gave way to
the flattering hope that he might yet leave a bright legacy to his
child—a name crowned with imperishable fame. His mind, long shattered
by sickness, caught back something of the fire of youth, and once more
his trembling hand seized the pen as the powerful instrument through
which riches and honor were to flow in upon him. But, as the meteor
which for an instant shoots over the wave in sparkling beauty, and then
sinks in the darkness of the fathomless gulf below, was the momentary
out-flashing of that once brilliant mind, ere the darkness of the grave
encompassed it.
When he felt the power of death too surely pressing upon him, he took
the hand of the old man and placed it on the head of his kneeling child
with a look pleading for kindness and protection. The heart of old Abel
May answered to this silent appeal, and stooping down he imprinted a
kiss upon the brow of Florence, solemnly promising never to forsake her.
The dying man raised his eyes in gratitude to heaven, and with a last
effort clasping his beloved child to his breast, expired.
The sad duties left for the living to perform over the venerated dust of
those we have loved, were ended with tears and lamentation—and now in
the wide world had Florence no friend but old Abel May.
“Florence,” said the old man, “I have long since buried the ties of
kindred—they could not survive ingratitude and distrust. I had but one
left to love—but one whom selfishness and sordid expectations did not
bind to me—and now he too has gone. I am now as much alone, my child,
as you—I in the winter of age, you in spring’s freshest bloom. You
shall be to me as the dearest of daughters, as pure and precious in my
eyes as God’s sacred word—although as my wife the world only must know
you. Then, Florence, will you give yourself to me; will you look upon me
in the light of that beloved parent whose loss you now deplore—will you
confide yourself to me in your loneliness and helplessness?”
And the innocent girl, lifting her meek blue eyes to the furrowed
countenance of the old man, threw herself confidingly upon his bosom,
and wept her thanks.
They were married; and then, as some priceless jewel committed to his
charge, which to guard and cherish was henceforth to be his pride and
happiness did Abel May bear home the young orphan.
For many years he had occupied a large mansion near the outskirts of the
city, whose dark granite front and heavy wooden shutters kept constantly
closed, imparted an air of chilliness and gloom to the neighborhood of
flashy brick houses and light airy cottages by which it was environed.
Abel May lived alone, keeping no domestics, and either preparing his own
meals, or partaking of them at a restaurateur’s. Occasionally the woman
whom he employed to do his washing was admitted to sweep and arrange his
sleeping room and the little parlor adjoining. The other apartments were
always locked, baffling all the curiosity of which no doubt the good
woman partook with others.
Various opinions and rumors were afloat concerning him in the
neighborhood, through which however the old man steered steadily and
regardlessly.
Not greater was the surprise of the captive princess in the fairy tale
on awakening one morning and finding before her window a sumptuous
palace rearing high its golden columns, where alone frowning rocks and
dark, turbid waters had before stood, than was the amazement which
pervaded the neighborhood, when early one morning they were aroused from
slumber by the _clink—clink—clink_ of the busy hammer, the crashing of
tiles, and sonorous fall of boards upon the pavements. And behold, every
window of that gloomy house was thrown wide to the glare of day—workmen
were on the roof—workmen were scaling ladders—workmen were tearing off
those clumsy shutters, while within, workmen in paper caps and white
aprons were busily wielding the several instruments of their handicraft.
Day after day their labors went on, and day after day added to the
astonishment of the neighbors. Plate-glass and light Venetian blinds
soon supplanted the small window panes and wooden shutters—a tasteful
portico and marble slabs supplied the place of the clumsy iron railing
and high stone steps so jagged and worn. Carpenters, masons, and
painters speedily completed the interior renovation, and then followed
heavily laden drays bearing rich furniture—and upholsterers flew from
room to room giving the last graceful touch of taste and fashion to the
arrangement of the various articles.
Next came the overwhelming announcement that old Abel May was married,
and that the sylph-like, graceful form, and sunny ringlets of the fair
young girl sometimes seen bending from the window, or leaning on the arm
of the old man, like a lily grafted on some withered branch, belonged to
no other than the bride—and wonder ceased not, but rather grew with the
“food it fed on.”
Not much less was the surprise of Florence at finding herself suddenly
the mistress of a home so charming. She had never connected the idea of
wealth with the plainly dressed humble old man who had so benevolently
administered to the comforts of her dying parent, and cheerfully did she
prepare to follow him to a home, no matter how lowly, so that love and
kindness were to be found there. When, then, old Abel May, lifting her
tenderly from the carriage which bore them from the church wherein the
solemn rite making them man and wife had just been pronounced, and led
her into apartments so splendid, with all that a refined taste might
approve, or a fastidious eye applaud, was it strange that for a moment
the young orphan doubted whether all was not, indeed, a dream or a fairy
creation, such as the pen of her father had often sketched for her
amusement—for never did her waking eyes or her sober senses dwell on
aught so rich and beautiful. Yet neither the elegance by which she was
surrounded, nor the charms which novelty lent to her new existence,
could for a long time withdraw her mind from dwelling on the irreparable
loss she had sustained. Happily, youth is not prone to despondency; hope
in the bright future buoys them exultingly over the billows of
disappointment which engulf so many sorrow-stricken hearts, and
therefore as time wore on it made the old man’s soul rejoice to see
smiles chasing away the tears from the countenance of this dear child.
The education of Florence had been conducted solely under the careful
tuition of her father, and her active mind, regulated and nourished by
judicious application. In the French and German languages she was a
correct scholar, and had attained some little proficiency in drawing;
yet of music or other elegant acquirements she knew nothing.
Hard are the lessons of adversity; and that his humble means precluded
his bestowing on his child those accomplishments for which nature had so
eminently qualified her, was often a source of deep regret to her fond
parent; but now, under the fostering care of the old man, how splendidly
did her talents develop themselves. Music and painting opened for her a
new world of enjoyment, and no expense did her kind protector withhold
to gratify to the fullest extent her eager desire for improvement. He
engaged the most eminent masters to attend upon her, nor did the
proficiency of the pupil shame their skill.
Very limited was the society which Abel May admitted within his walls,
and those only such as he considered worthy of his friendship and
confidence. This gave no disquiet to Florence; indeed, company rather
pained than pleased her. Her most delightful hours were those in which
she could add to the happiness of the old man, by the exercise of those
agreeable sources of entertainment owing their origin to him, or when
with pencil or book, alone in the beautiful little apartment which the
same kind hand had fitted up expressly for her use, the moments flew
unheeding in the all absorbing interest they inspired.
Occasionally, at the Opera or Theatres, old Abel May appeared with his
beautiful young wife; or perhaps, in the delightful coolness of a
summer’s morning, ere yet the noisy din of the city pervaded the air, or
the dust of its countless thoroughfares swept over the dewy freshness of
night, they sauntered through the silent streets or shady avenues of
Washington Square. But more frequently still within the sacred precincts
of Laurel Hill were they seen to wander. In one of its most retired
spots, where a cluster of drooping willows brushed the dew-drops from
the tall, rank grass, and the murmur of the wave below came up sadly yet
sweetly upon the ear, a plain monumental stone was planted. “My Father
Sleeps,” was the only sign it bore; and to this consecrated spot did
their steps most often turn, for well did one fond heart know _who_
slept so peaceful there, and over this hallowed grave the fair form of
Florence bent in filial devotion.
Wherever she appeared the admiration she attracted was universal; and if
some were prone to pity her lot, as being bound by such indissoluble
ties to old Abel May, they were quite at fault by her bright, sunny
countenance which certainly bore no traces of hidden sorrows for their
sympathies to probe. This might have flattered the pride of the old man
while it aroused his fears. His own life he knew, in the common course
of nature, could not be prolonged many years, and then what was to
become of that young girl thus thrown a second time upon the world, so
beautiful and so unprotected.
There was but one person whom he ever mentioned in terms of affection to
Florence, and this was his nephew, and the only son of a favorite
brother, long since dead, who bore his name, and whom he had destined
for his heir. But for many years young Abel May had not been heard from,
and his friends had finally given up all expectations of ever seeing him
again. It was said that being repeatedly reproached by envious relatives
on account of the interest his rich uncle manifested for him, calling
him a poor gentleman—a hanger-on—only waiting to step into dead men’s
shoes, with remarks of the like nature, originating in low, vulgar
minds, and that being a lad of high spirit, he became disgusted and
angered, and vowing he would either make his own fortune or never
return, young May suddenly disappeared.
At length age and infirmities pressed more and more sorely upon the good
old man. Soon he could no longer leave the house or even his
chamber—and then it was he felt how rich a treasure he possessed in
Florence. With how much tenderness and love did she watch over him,
patiently enduring with all the querulousness and complainings of an old
age racked with torturing pains; never weary, neither by day nor by
night, ever devising, | 2,078.554401 |
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BENTLEY'S
MISCELLANY.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1837.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,
Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
ADDRESS.
Twelve months have elapsed since we first took the field, and every
successive number of our Miscellany has experienced a warmer reception,
and a more extensive circulation, than its predecessor.
In the opening of the new year, and the commencement of our new volume,
we hope to make many changes for the better, and none for the worse;
and, to show that, while we have one grateful eye to past patronage,
we have another wary one to future favours; in short, that, like the
heroine of the sweet poem descriptive of the faith | 2,078.556181 |
2023-11-16 18:51:42.5361470 | 2,445 | 14 |
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The Nether World
by
George Gissing
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A THRALL OF THRALLS
II A FRIEND IN REQUEST
III A SUPERFLUOUS FAMILY
IV CLARA AND JANE
V JANE IS VISITED
VI GLIMPSES OF THE PAST
VII MRS. BYASS'S LODGINGS
VIII PENNYLOAF CANDY
IX PATHOLOGICAL
X THE LAST COMBAT
XI A DISAPPOINTMENT
XII 'IO SATURNALIA!'
XIII THE BRINGER OF ILL NEWS
XIV A WELCOME GUEST
XV SUNLIGHT IN DREARY PLACES
XVI DIALOGUE AND COMMENT
XVII CLEM MAKES A DISCLOSURE
XVIII THE JOKE IS COMPLETED
XIX A RETREAT
XX A VISION OF NOBLE THINGS
XXI DEATH THE RECONCILER
XXII WATCHING FROM AMBUSH
XXIII ON THE EVE OF TRIUMPH
XXIV THE FAMILY HISTORY PROGRESSES
XXV A DOUBLE CONSECRATION
XXVI SIDNEY'S STRUGGLE
XXVII CLARA'S RETURN
XXVIII THE SOUP-KITCHEN
XXIX PHANTOMS
XXX ON A BARREN SHORE
XXXI WOMAN AND ACTRESS
XXXII A HAVEN
XXXIII A FALL FROM THE IDEAL
XXXIV THE DEBT REPAID
XXXV THE TREASURY UNLOCKED
XXXVI THE HEIR
XXXVII MAD JACK'S DREAM
XXXVIII JOSEPH TRANSACTS MUCH BUSINESS
XXXIX SIDNEY
XL JANE
CHAPTER I
A THRALL OF THRALLS
In the troubled twilight of a March evening ten years ago, an old man,
whose equipment and bearing suggested that he was fresh from travel,
walked slowly across Clerkenwell Green, and by the graveyard of St.
James's Church stood for a moment looking about him. His age could not
be far from seventy, but, despite the stoop of his shoulders, he gave
little sign of failing under the burden of years; his sober step
indicated gravity of character rather than bodily feebleness, and his
grasp of a stout stick was not such as bespeaks need of support. His
attire was neither that of a man of leisure, nor of the kind usually
worn by English mechanics. Instead of coat and waistcoat, he wore a
garment something like a fisherman's guernsey, and over this a coarse
short cloak, picturesque in appearance as it was buffeted by the wind.
His trousers were of moleskin; his boots reached almost to his knees;
for head-covering he had the cheapest kind of undyed felt, its form
exactly that of the old petasus. To say that his aspect was Venerable
would serve to present him in a measure, yet would not be wholly
accurate, for there was too much of past struggle and present anxiety
in his countenance to permit full expression of the natural dignity of
the features. It was a fine face and might have been distinctly noble,
but circumstances had marred the purpose of Nature; you perceived that
his cares had too often been of the kind which are created by ignoble
necessities, such as leave to most men of his standing a bare humanity
of visage. He had long thin white hair; his beard was short and merely
grizzled. In his left hand he carried a bundle, which probably
contained clothing.
The burial-ground by which he had paused was as little restful to the
eye as are most of those discoverable in the byways of London. The
small trees that grew about it shivered in their leaflessness; the rank
grass was wan under the failing day; most of the stones leaned this way
or that, emblems of neglect (they were very white at the top, and
darkened downwards till the damp soil made them black), and certain
cats and dogs were prowling or sporting among the graves. At this
corner the east wind blew with malice such as it never puts forth save
where there are poorly clad people to be pierced; it swept before it
thin clouds of unsavoury dust, mingled with the light refuse of the
streets. Above the shapeless houses night was signalling a murky
approach; the sky--if sky it could be called--gave threatening of
sleet, perchance of snow. And on every side was the rumble of traffic,
the voiceful evidence of toil and of poverty; hawkers were crying their
goods; the inevitable organ was clanging before a public-house hard by;
the crumpet-man was hastening along, with monotonous ringing of his
bell and hoarse rhythmic wail.
The old man had fixed his eyes half absently on the inscription of a
gravestone near him; a lean cat springing out between the iron railings
seemed to recall his attention, and with a slight sigh he went forward
along the narrow street which is called St. James's Walk. In a few
minutes he had reached the end of it, and found himself facing a high
grey-brick wall, wherein, at this point, was an arched gateway closed
with black doors. He looked at the gateway, then fixed his gaze on
something that stood just above--something which the dusk half
concealed, and by so doing made more impressive. It was the sculptured
counterfeit of a human face, that of a man distraught with agony. The
eyes stared wildly from their sockets, the hair struggled in maniac
disorder, the forehead was wrung with torture, the cheeks sunken, the
throat fearsomely wasted, and from the wide lips there seemed to be
issuing a horrible cry. Above this hideous effigy was carved the
legend: 'MIDDLESEX HOUSE OF DETENTION.'
Something more than pain came to the old man's face as he looked and
pondered; his lips trembled like those of one in anger, and his eyes
had a stern resentful gleaming. He walked on a few paces, then suddenly
stopped where a woman was standing at an open door.
'I ask your pardon,' he said, addressing her with the courtesy which
owes nothing to refined intercourse, 'but do you by chance know anyone
of the name of Snowdon hereabouts?'
The woman replied with a brief negative; she smiled at the appearance
of the questioner, and, with the vulgar instinct, looked about for
someone to share her amusement.
'Better inquire at the 'ouse at the corner,' she added, as the man was
moving away. 'They've been here a long time, I b'lieve.'
He accepted her advice. But the people at the public-house could not
aid his search. He thanked them, paused for a moment with his eyes
down, then again sighed slightly and went forth into the gathering
gloom.
Less than five minutes later there ran into the same house of
refreshment a little slight girl, perhaps thirteen years old; she
carried a jug, and at the bar asked for 'a pint of old six.' The
barman, whilst drawing the ale, called out to a man who had entered
immediately after the child:
'Don't know nobody called Snowdon about 'ere, do you, Mr. Squibbs?'
The individual addressed was very dirty, very sleepy, and seemingly at
odds with mankind. He replied contemptuously with a word which, in
phonetic rendering may perhaps be spelt 'Nay-oo.'
But the little girl was looking eagerly from one man to the other; what
had been said appeared to excite keen interest in her. She forgot all
about the beer-jug that was waiting, and, after a brief but obvious
struggle with timidity, said in an uncertain voice:
'Has somebody been asking for that name, sir?'
'Yes, they have,' the barman answered, in surprise. 'Why?'
My name's Snowdon, sir--Jane Snowdon.'
She reddened over all her face as soon as she had given utterance to
the impulsive words. The barman was regarding her with a sort of
semi-interest, and Mr. Squibbs also had fixed his bleary (or beery)
eyes upon her. Neither would have admitted an active interest in so
pale and thin and wretchedly-clad a little mortal. Her hair hung loose,
and had no covering; it was hair of no particular colour, and seemed to
have been for a long time utterly untended; the wind, on her run
hither, had tossed it into much disorder. Signs there were of some kind
of clothing beneath the short, dirty, worn dress, but it was evidently
of the scantiest description. The freely exposed neck was very thin,
but, like the outline of her face, spoke less of a feeble habit of body
than of the present pinch of sheer hunger. She did not, indeed, look
like one of those children who are born in disease and starvation, and
put to nurse upon the pavement; her limbs were shapely enough, her back
was straight, she had features that were not merely human, but
girl-like, and her look had in it the light of an intelligence
generally sought for in vain among the children of the street. The
blush and the way in which she hung her head were likewise tokens of a
nature endowed with ample sensitiveness.
'Oh, your name's Jane Snowdon, is it?' said the barman. 'Well, you're
just three minutes an' three-quarters too late. P'r'aps it's a fortune
a-runnin' after you. He was a rum old party as inquired. Never mind;
it's all in a life. There's fortunes lost every week by a good deal
less than three minutes when it's 'orses--eh, Mr. Squibbs?'
Mr. Squibbs swore with emphasis.
The little girl took her jug of beer and was turning away.
'Hollo!' cried the barman. 'Where's the money, Jane?--if _you_ don't
mind.'
She turned again in increased confusion, and laid coppers on the
counter. Thereupon the man asked her where she lived; she named a house
in Clerkenwell Close, near at hand.
'Father live there?'
She shook her head.
'Mother?'
'I haven't got one, sir.'
'Who is it as you live with, then?'
'Mrs. Peckover, sir.'
'Well, as I was sayin', he was a queer old joker as arsted for the name
of Snowdon. Shouldn't wonder if you see him goin' round.'
And he added a pretty full description of this old man, to which the
girl listened closely. Then she went thoughtfully--a little sadly--on
her way.
In the street, all but dark by this time, she cast anxious glances
onwards and behind, but | 2,078.556187 |
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MY QUEEN
A WEEKLY JOURNAL FOR YOUNG WOMEN
No. 5. PRICE, FIVE CENTS.
MARION MARLOWE ENTRAPPED
OR
THE VICTIM OF PROFESSIONAL JEALOUSY
BY GRACE SHIRLEY
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY STREET & SMITH, 238 William Street, New York City.
_Copyright, 1900, by Street & Smith. All rights reserved. Entered at New
York Post-Office as Second-Class Matter._
MY QUEEN
A WEEKLY JOURNAL FOR YOUNG WOMEN
_Issued Weekly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class
Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., N. Y._
_Entered According to Act of Congress in the year 1900, in the Office of
the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C._
No. 5. NEW YORK, October 27, 1900. Price Five Cents.
Marion Marlowe Entrapped;
OR,
THE VICTIM OF PROFESSIONAL JEALOUSY.
By GRACE SHIRLEY.
CHAPTER I.
“ILA DE PARLOA.”
Howard Everett, musical critic for the New York _Star_, was just
entering the office of his friend, Manager Graham, when he stopped
and almost stared at the young lady who was emerging. She was by far
the most beautiful girl that Everett had ever seen, and that was
saying much, for the critic had traveled extensively. She was not over
seventeen, a trifle above medium height, with a brilliant complexion,
luxuriant chestnut hair and large gray eyes, that flashed like diamonds
as she glanced at him carelessly.
Everett gave a long, low whistle to relieve his feelings, then threw
open the door and rushed into the office.
“Who the mischief is she?” he blurted out, instantly.
Clayton Graham, manager of the Temple Opera Company, turned around
from his desk and smiled good-naturedly.
“So she’s bewitched you, too, has she?” he asked, jovially. “Well,
she’s the first woman I ever saw that could rattle the cold-blooded,
cynical Howard Everett!”
“But, good Heavens, man, she’s a wonder! I never saw such a face. It is
a combination of strength, poetry, beauty; and, most wonderful of all,
goodness! Why, that girl is not only worldly, but she is heavenly, too!
Quick, hurry, old man, and tell me what you know about her.”
“That won’t take me long,” said Graham, as he passed his friend a
cigar. “Sit down, Everett, and have a smoke. Perhaps it will calm your
nerves a little.”
“Pshaw! I’m not as much rattled as I look,” said the critic, laughing,
“but for once in my life I am devoured by curiosity, as the novelists
say—I want to know where you discovered that American Beauty.”
“Well, you want to know too much,” was Graham’s answer; “but, seeing
it is you, I suppose I’ll have to forgive you. But here’s her story,
as much as I know of it—and that, as I said, is mighty little. She
came here from the country about six months ago. Was poor as poverty,
and had not a friend in the city. Well, one night Vandergrift—you know
him, the manager of the Fern Garden—heard her singing on the street in
behalf of one of those preacher fellows. Her voice was wonderful, and,
of course, he stopped to listen. It was just before his opening and
he needed a singer, inasmuch as my present prima donna, ‘Carlotta,’
was engaged to sing at the opening of the Olio, the rival garden just
across the street from his place. Well, to make a long story short,
he made terms with this girl at once—offered her a big price for one
night, thinking that the offer would dazzle her so that she would feel
too grateful and all that sort of thing to listen to any future offers.
Well, he billed her that night as ‘Ila de Parloa,’ and her song was
great; she was the hit of the evening. The very next morning, what do
you think she did? Took her money and bolted, and Vandergrift lost
track of her entirely.”
“What, didn’t she go over to the Olio or to some other concert hall?”
“Nit! She just disappeared, leaving no address behind, after politely
informing Vandergrift that his place wasn’t respectable.”
“But didn’t she know that before she sang there?” asked the critic, in
amazement.
“It seems not,” was the answer. “She was as green as grass. She thought
she was to sing in some Sunday-school concert or something of that
sort, I fancy.”
Clayton Graham chuckled over what he thought was a good joke, but his
face looked somewhat serious, in spite of his laughter.
“I made her sit in front and see my show before I talked to her,” he
added, shrewdly, “and the little Puritan told me, gravely, that she
quite approved of it, and was willing to sing for me a week on trial.”
“But where in the world has she been hiding since that night at the
Fern Garden? If her voice is so wonderful, I should certainly know if
she had been singing.”
“Oh, she tells me that at just that time she decided to be a nurse—went
up to Charity Hospital, on Blackwell’s Island, for a time, but the
sights up there upset her so she had to give it up and look for
something different.”
“Good Heavens! The idea of that face being hidden in a hospital ward!”
cried Everett in horror. “Why, if her voice is half as beautiful as her
face, I’ll give her a column and make Carlotta green with envy.”
“She’s that already,” said Graham, laughing. “You just ought to see
her! Why, that woman would kill her, I believe, if she dared.”
“Strange how jealous these professionals are,” said Everett, soberly,
“and particularly after they get a bit old and their voices are not
quite up to the standard.”
“Well, Carlotta is unusually jealous,” said Graham, with a little
chuckle. “I suppose it is because she is suspicious of me. Thinks I may
get stuck on the new face, you understand, old fellow.”
“Carlotta should know the world by this time, if any woman ever knew
it,” said Everett, scowling. “Does she imagine you are going to dance
attendance upon her forever?”
“If she does, she’ll be mistaken,” said Graham, decidedly, “and as for
my new singer, Ila de Parloa, she had better not meddle with her. The
girl is as pure and unsophisticated as she is beautiful, and, bad as I
am, I admire virtue in a woman.”
“The most of us can,” said Everett, slowly; “but, by the way, what is
the beautiful Ila’s right name? ’Pon honor, Clayte, I’ll never tell it.”
“Her name is Marion Marlowe,” was the manager’s answer, “but, of
course, for business purposes, we shall stick to ‘Ila.’”
CHAPTER II.
A JEALOUS WOMAN.
The audience had dispersed and the auditorium of the great Broadway
Theatre was enveloped in darkness, but Carlotta, the prima donna
of the company, was still pacing back and forth in her disordered
dressing-room.
She was a handsome woman, of the ripe, sensual type. Her eyes were wide
and far apart, like a panther’s; her nose aquiline, and her lips red
| 2,078.659079 |
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Produced by Bryan Ness, Melissa McDaniel and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from scanned images of public domain
material from the Google Print project.)
Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has
been preserved. Inconsistent spelling in the original
(e.g. "Holmencollen" and "Holmenkollen") has been preserved.
The following spelling corrections were made:
- "Bjornstjerne Bjornsen" changed to "Bjornstjerne Bjornson"
- "Armed with his mighty hammer Mjolmer" changed to "Armed with
his mighty hammer Mjolnir"
- "Moldoen" changed to "Moldoeen"
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
NORWAY
BY THE SAME ARTIST AND
AUTHOR
Holland
CONTAINING 76 FULL-PAGE
ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
PRICE 20c. NET
Agents in America
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 and 66 Fifth Avenue, New York
[Illustration: COUNTRY GIRL FROM DALEN]
NORWAY BY NICO
JUNGMAN. TEXT BY
BEATRIX JUNGMAN
PUBLISHED BY A. & C.
BLACK LONDON W
Published April 1905
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
PRECARIOUS TRAVEL 3
CHAPTER II
BROTTEM, AUNE, SLIPER, GJORA, SUNDALSOREN, ETC. 23
CHAPTER III
ON THE FJORDS 45
CHAPTER IV
MINOR ROMANTIC EPISODES 63
CHAPTER V
MAINLY ABOUT SAINTS 85
CHAPTER VI
ARTS AND CRAFTS 107
CHAPTER VII
FARM-HOUSES: WEDDING FESTIVITIES 129
CHAPTER VIII
FORESTRY: REINDEER: LAND TENURES 149
CHAPTER IX
FISHERIES: THE LAPPS: RELIGION AND MORALS: MUSIC 169
CHAPTER X
LEGENDS AND LITERATURE 187
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. Country Girl from Dalen _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
2. Trondhjem--Old Boats 4
3. Costume worn in the Bergen District 6
4. The Road to Hell, near Trondhjem 8
5. White Cap worn in the Bergen District 10
6. Trondhjem 12
7. Little Girl of Telemarken 14
8. Making the Dinner--a Cottage Interior at Saelbo 16
9. Bergen 18
10. On the Fjord, Sundalsoren 20
11. Country-women selling Berries on the Road to
Storen 24
12. Norwegian Captain 26
13. Farm-house and Mill at Gjora 28
14. Mountains and River at Gjora 30
15. A Little Farm on the Riverside at Gjora 32
16. Ostre Kanalhavn, Trondhjem 34
17. The Town of Molde 36
18. Woman Spinning, Sundalsoren 38
19. Snow-capped Mountain at Sundalsoren 40
20. Old Warehouse and Boats, Molde 46
21. Mountains and Fjord facing Molde 48
22. Moldoeen 50
23. Bergen 52
24. A Fair Maiden of North Bergen 54
25. Bergen Boats and Warehouses 56
26. Vaefos, Hildal, Hardanger 58
27. A Hardanger Country Girl 64
28. Skjaeggedalsfos, Hardanger 66
29. Hardanger Headdress 68
30. River at Haukeli 70
31. A Peasant of Saetersdalen 72
32. Espelandsfos, Hardanger 74
33. A Boy of Saetersdalen 76
34. Sundalsfjord 78
35. Saetersdalen Girl in National Costume 80
36. Saetersdalen Peasant Girl 86
37. Moldoeen 88
38. A Cottage Interior, Telemarken 90
39. A Norwegian Girl 92
40. Kjendalsbrae 94
41. A Typical Norwegian Maiden 96
42. A Baby of Telemarken 98
43. Romsdals Horn 100
44. Old Age, Telemarken 102
45. Romsdals Waterfall 108
46. The Houses of Parliament (Storthing),
Christiania 110
47. Ski Sports--the Great Holmencollen Day
outside Christiania 112
48. Room by Munthe at Holmencollen 114
49. Skiers drinking Goosewine 116
50. Girls on Overturned Sledge, Holmencollen 118
51. Old Canal, Christiania 120
52. Sledging by Torchlight 122
53. Making Native Tapestry 124
54. Bird's-eye View of Christiania 126
55. A Vosse Bride 130
56. Farm-houses built of Poles 132
57. Country Girl, Bergen District 138
58. Saetersdalen Bride 140
59. A Hardanger Bride 142
60. Making "Flad-Brod"--a Cottage Interior 144
61. Snow Plough drawn by Eight or Ten Horses 150
62. Fishing through the Ice on Christiania Fjord 152
63. Fishing-nets at Sundalsoren 156
64. The Midnight Sun 158
65. Mundal, Fjaerland, Sognefjord 162 | 2,078.659132 |
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| 2,078.754254 |
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file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: cover]
[Illustration: _HE GLANCED AT THE WRITTEN ORDER_]
AN
ANNAPOLIS
FIRST CLASSMAN
_by_
LT. COM. EDWARD L. BEACH
U.S. NAVY
Author of
"AN ANNAPOLIS PLEBE"
"AN ANNAPOLIS YOUNGSTER"
"AN ANNAPOLIS SECOND CLASSMAN"
Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
MCMX
[Illustration]
Introduction
This is the fourth and last book of the "Annapolis Series." It has been
the purpose of the author faithfully to portray the conditions in which
our midshipmen live at the Naval Academy. The training given at
Annapolis is regulated by the needs of the Fleet, and the Naval Academy
in all of its departments is entirely directed and controlled by
seagoing naval officers. After the Fleet's world-encircling cruise, many
of the officers attached to it were sent to the Naval Academy to
instruct midshipmen in navigation and electricity and gunnery and
seamanship.
In the navy it is believed that the officer who is fresh from drilling a
twelve-inch turret or a battery of broadside guns at record and battle
target practice, should be well qualified to initiate midshipmen in the
beginnings of naval gunnery. It is for this reason that the training at
Annapolis reflects the needs of the Fleet, and every officer on duty
there has either seen recent sea service or is looking forward to an
early sea assignment.
Stonewell and Robert Drake by name never existed, but the same thoughts
and ambitions that animate them have animated many hundreds of
midshipmen; and incidents similar to those described have happened
countless times. From this point of view these stories are true stories.
The names of their chief characters may be found in no navy list, but
the truth of the Annapolis books does not depend upon that. Stonewell
and Robert Drake have actually lived many times, and to-day are living
at Annapolis.
The author hopes he has presented in this book and its three
predecessors, "An Annapolis Plebe," "An Annapolis Youngster," and "An
Annapolis Second Classman," a fair picture of the life of American
midshipmen; and not only of the naval atmosphere which surrounds them,
but of that inner life which for the time dominates their relations to
each other and to the institution made famous as the alma mater of many
names illustrious in naval history.
EDWARD L. BEACH,
_Lieutenant-Commander, U.S. Navy_.
Contents
I. GLASSFELL, DRAKE AND STONEWELL 9
II. THE COMMANDANT OF MIDSHIPMEN 22
III. A HAPPY SURPRISE 36
IV. ACADEMY LIFE BEGINS 46
V. A MYSTERIOUS CRY 61
VI. THE GATES FORWARD PASS 77
VII. THE WEST POINT GAME 88
VIII. "THE MAN WORE A SLOUCH HAT" 101
IX. ROBERT GETS BAD NEWS 111
X. ROBERT GETS GOOD NEWS 124
XI. "THREE GROANS FOR THE SUPERINTENDENT" 133
XII. ROBERT MAKES A DISCOVERY 142
XIII. HARRY BLUNT IS REBUFFED 155
XIV. A MYSTERY SOLVED 166
XV. STONEWELL RECEIVES A LETTER 181
XVI. BLIGH MAKES A FRIEND 194
XVII. AN ILL-FAVORED, RED-BEARDED ROGUE 205
XVIII. AN OLD <DW52> MAN IS IN TROUBLE 217
XIX. THE KIDNAPPERS 227
XX. SIX-POUNDER TARGET PRACTICE 237
XXI. A GOOD SHOT WITH THE SIX-POUNDER 255
XXII. GRICE APPEARS AGAIN 265
XXIII. ROBERT RESIGNS 275
XXIV. IT WAS STONEWELL 287
XXV. JOHN 15:13 298
XXVI. COMMANDER DALTON BECOMES ANGRY 305
XXVII. ROBERT FINALLY ANSWERS 320
XXVIII. "BLIGH, BLIGH, BLIGH!" 334
XXIX. THE END OF A LONG DAY 343
XXX. GRADUATION 350
Illustrations
PAGE
HE GLANCED AT THE WRITTEN ORDER _Frontispiece_
AROUND THE END 68
THE STRANGER THREW OFF HIS HAT 152
HE HALF AROSE FROM HIS SEAT 200
HE SAW TWO DARK FIGURES 272
"THAT WILL DO, GENTLEMEN" 296
IT MUST HAVE BEEN A VERY PRETTY SPEECH 355
An Annapolis First Classman
CHAPTER I
GLASSFELL, DRAKE AND STONEWELL
"Hello, Stone! Hello, Bob! By George, but I'm glad to see you!"
"Hello, Glass, you old sinner, I can just imagine you've led those dear
old aunts of yours a lively life the last two weeks."
"You'll win, Stone, but you ought to get them to tell you about it; ha,
ha, ha! the dear old ladies never dropped once."
Explosively enthusiastic greetings were exchanged between three stalwart
young men in the Union Station, Chicago, on the twentieth of September,
of the year nineteen hundred and something. Passers-by noticed them and
smiled, and in approving accents said, "College boys!" All three were
tall, broad-shouldered, bronzed in face, and possessed a lithesomeness
of movement that betokened health and strength.
Glassfell, Drake and Stonewell were midshipmen on leave from the United
States Naval Academy. It was evident that they had met in the Union
Station by appointment. Glassfell had just arrived from Wisconsin, and
Drake and Stonewell were to leave in two hours for Annapolis.
"You two chaps are martyrs!" exclaimed Glassfell; "here you are giving
up ten days of glorious leave just to go and train for the football
team. Now here I am, cheer leader, head yeller, or whatever you call me,
far more important than either of you, you'll admit, and I'm not due at
Annapolis until October first."
"'Daily News,' last edition," droned a newsboy near by.
"Don't bother me, boy; Chicago news doesn't interest me. Some new
sandbagging on Wabash Avenue, I suppose, and nothing else. Get out."
"A fine cruise, wasn't it, Glass?" remarked Robert Drake. "By George!
I'd had some troubles on my previous cruises, but this went like
clockwork; not a single thing happened to worry me, and I certainly had
troubles enough on my plebe and youngster cruises."
"You did indeed, Bob," remarked Stonewell, "but you'll have to admit you
were fortunate in the wind up. Now Glass, here----"
"'Daily News,' last edition," was shouted close to their ears.
"Stuff that boy. Put a corn-cob down his throat," said Glassfell with an
amused glance at the persistent newsboy. "Say, fellows, wasn't that a
good one I worked on old 'I mean to say'? Ha, ha, ha!"
"Which one, Glass?" asked Robert Drake.
"Oh, the best one, the time I hoisted up two red balls to the masthead
when he was on watch in charge of the deck, during drill period. And
didn't the captain give him the mischief?"
An outburst of wild hilarious laughter greeted this reminiscence, as
evidently a very humorous episode was recalled. In seagoing language two
red balls means that the | 2,078.756466 |
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