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PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOLUME 93.
* * * * *
JULY 16, 1887.
* * * * *
THE LAST VISIT TO THE ACADEMY.
[Illustration: No. 691. The Donkey Rider Stopped. "You can't go further
than this for twopence."]
[Illustration: No. 540. Arrival of the G.O.M. Collars in Venice.]
[Illustration: No. 35. A Brave Lassie. "Come on!--the whole lot of you!
I'll give it you!"]
[Illustration: No. 928. Cat and Child Fight.]
* * * * *
ABSURD TO A DEGREE.
Now that girls have proved themselves capable of earning the highest
University honours, why should women remain debarred of University
degrees? If any senatorial difficulty precludes the removal of that
ridiculous injustice, a girl forbidden to term herself a Bachelor of
Arts, for example, might, it has been suggested, "invent some other
title more significant of the distinction she has won." No invention
could be easier. Her alternative for Bachelor would be obviously
Spinster of Arts. No Graduate able to pass the _Pons Asinorum_ can be
such a preposterous donkey as to persist in denying even the
plainest--possibly the prettiest--Passwoman that. The Dons will be
unworthy of the name they go by unless they immediately remove the
disability their old-world statutes have imposed upon the _Donne_.
* * * * *
ROBERT AT THE ACADEMY.
I PAID my reglar wisit to the Academy last week, and was glad to find
that my werry ernest remonstrance of last year had perduced sech a
change as regards Staggerers. No Miss Menads a hunting in Burnham
Beeches without no close on to speak of, and no Mr. Cassandra a carrying
off of a pore yung lady afore she's had time to dress, merely because
she upset the salad-bowl.
I don't think it's because "familyaryty breeds content," as the poet
says, that I am less staggered than last year, but becos there ain't so
many staggerers to be staggered at. Not that there ain't none. Why,
there's one lady in the werry same dishabil as Madame Wenus herself a
poring out somethink that the Catalog says is a incantashun, but then
her pecooliar costoom is reelly xcusable, for she's that red hot that
wood excuse anythink or nothink, as in her case.
One of the jolliest picturs to my mind is a portrate of a Port Wine
drinker. Why, it seems to be a oozing out of ewery pore of his skin! and
nothink younger than '63, I'll be bound. What a life to lead, and what a
life to look back upon with proud satisfacshun!
Poor Lord HARTINGTON looks terribly bored at having to be gazed at so
constantly by so many longing, if not loving, eyes, and at being pinted
at by the old dowagers as their bo ideall of a sun in law.
Ah, Mr. STORY tells us a story as I've offen witnessed, when a young
swell stands treat to a few frends and then ain't got enuff money to pay
the bill! Wot a nuisance for him, but still wuss for the Landlord, and
wussest of all for the pore Waiter. Poor Mr. GROSSMITH looks werry much
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(Images generously made available by the Hathi Trust)
LEGENDS
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES
BY
AUGUST STRINDBERG
LONDON: ANDREW MELROSE
3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN
1912
CONTENTS
I. The Possessed Exorcist
II. My Wretchedness Increases
III. My Wretchedness Increases (cont.)
IV. Miracles
V. My Incredulous Friend's Troubles
VI. Miscellanies
VII. Studies in Swedenborg
VIII. Canossa
IX. The Spirit of Contradiction
X. Extracts from my Diary, 1897
XI. In Paris
XII. Wrestling Jacob
Note
I
THE POSSESSED EXORCIST
Hunted by the furies, I found myself finally in December 1896 fixed
fast in the little university town Lund, in Sweden. A conglomeration
of small houses round a cathedral, a palace-like university building
and a library, forming an oasis of civilisation in the great southern
Swedish plain. I must admire the refinement of cruelty which has chosen
this place as my prison. The University of Lund is much prized by the
natives of Schonen, but for a man from the north like myself the fact
that one stays here is a sign that one has come to an inclined plane
and is rolling down. Moreover, for me who am well advanced in the
forties, have been a married man for twenty years and am accustomed
to a regular family life, it is a humiliation to be relegated to
intercourse with students, bachelors who are given to a life of riot
and carousing, and who are all more or less in ill od
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[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON.
_From Portrait by Gilbert Stuart._]
[Illustration: MONTICELLO:--THE WESTERN FRONT.]
THE DOMESTIC LIFE
OF
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
COMPILED FROM
FAMILY LETTERS AND REMINISCENCES,
BY HIS GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER,
SARAH N. RANDOLPH.
[Illustration: Jefferson's seal]
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1871.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
PREFACE.
I do not in this volume write of Jefferson either as of the great
man or as of the statesman. My object is only to give a faithful
picture of him as he was in private life--to show that he was, as
I have been taught to think of him by those who knew and loved him
best, a beautiful domestic character. With this view I have collected
the reminiscences of him which have been written by his daughter and
grandchildren. From his correspondence, published and unpublished,
I have culled his family letters, and here reproduce them as being
the most faithful witnesses of the warmth of his affections, the
elevation of his character, and the scrupulous fidelity with which he
discharged the duties of every relation in life.
I am well aware that the tale of Jefferson's life, both public and
private, has been well told by the most faithful of biographers in
"Randall's Life of Jefferson," and that much of what is contained in
these pages will be found in that admirable work, which, from the
author's zealous devotion to truth, and his indefatigable industry
in collecting his materials, must ever stand chief among the most
valuable contributions to American history. I propose, however, to
give a sketch of Jefferson's private life in a briefer form than it
can be found in either the thirteen volumes of the two editions of
his published correspondence, or in the three stout octavo volumes of
his Life by Randall. To give a bird's-eye view of his whole career,
and to preserve unbroken the thread of this narrative, I quote freely
from his Memoir, and from such of his letters as cast any light upon
the subject, filling up the blanks with my own pen.
Jefferson's executor having a few months ago recovered from the
United States Government his family letters and private papers, which
had been exempted from the sale of his public manuscripts, I am
enabled to give in these pages many interesting letters never before
published.
No man's private character has been more foully assailed than
Jefferson's, and none so wantonly exposed to the public gaze, nor
more fully vindicated. I shall be more than rewarded for my labors
should I succeed in imparting to my readers a tithe of that esteem
and veneration which I have been taught to feel for him by the person
with whom he was most intimate during life--the grandson who, as a
boy, played upon his knee, and, as a man, was, as he himself spoke of
him, "the staff" of his old age.
The portrait of Jefferson is from a painting by Gilbert Stuart, in
the possession of his family, and by them considered as the best
likeness of him. The portrait of his daughter, Martha Jefferson
Randolph, is from a painting by Sully. The view of Monticello
represents the home of Jefferson as it existed during his lifetime,
and not as it now is--a ruin.
THE AUTHOR.
JUNE, 1871.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Jefferson's Birthplace.--Sketch of his early Life.--Character
of his Parents.--His Grandfather, Isham Randolph.--Peter
Jefferson's Friendship for William Randolph.--Randolph dies,
and leaves his young Son to the Guardianship of Jefferson.--
His faithful Discharge of the Trust.--Thomas Jefferson's
earliest Recollections.--His Father's Hospitality.--First
Acquaintance with Indians.--Life of the early Settlers of
Virginia: its Ease and Leisure.--Expense of Thomas Jefferson's
early Education.--Death of his Father.--Perils of his
Situation.--Letter to his Guardian.--Goes to William and
Mary College.--Extract from his Memoir.--Sketch of
Fauquier.--Of Wythe Page 17
CHAPTER II.
Intense Application as a Student.--Habits of Study kept up
during his Vacations.--First Preparations made for Building
at Monticello.--Letters to his College Friend, John Page.--
Anecdote of Benjamin Harrison.--Jefferson's Devotion to his
eldest Sister.--He witnesses the Debate on the Stamp
Act.--First Meeting with Patrick Henry.--His Opinion of
him.--His superior Education.--Always a Student.--Wide Range
of Information.--Anecdote.--Death of his eldest Sister.--His
Grief.--Buries himself in his Books.--Finishes his Course of
Law Studies.--Begins to practise.--Collection of Vocabularies
of Indian Languages.--House at Shadwell burnt.--Loss of his
Library.--Marriage.--Anecdote of his Courtship.--Wife's
Beauty.--Bright Prospects.--Friendship for Dabney Carr.--His
Talents.--His Death.--Jefferson buries him at Monticello.--His
Epitaph 31
CHAPTER III.
Happy Life at Monticello.--Jefferson's fine Horsemanship.--Birth
of his oldest Child.--Goes to Congress.--Death of his Mother.
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THE COBBLER IN THE DEVIL'S KITCHEN
From "Mackinac And Lake Stories", 1899
By Mary Hartwell Catherwood
Early in the Mackinac summer Owen Cunning took his shoemaker's bench and
all his belongings to that open cavern on the beach called the Devil's
Kitchen, which was said to derive its name from former practices of
the Indians. They roasted prisoners there. The inner rock retained old
smoke-stains.
Though appearing a mere hole in the cliff to passing canoe-men, the
Devil's Kitchen was really as large as a small cabin, rising at least
seven feet from a floor which sloped down towards the water. Overhead,
through an opening which admitted his body, Owen could reach a natural
attic, just large enough for his bed if he contented himself with
blankets. And an Irishman prided himself on being tough as any French
voyageur who slept blanketed on snow in the winter wilderness.
The rock was full of pockets, enclosing pebbles and fragments. By
knocking out the contents of these, Owen made cupboards for his food. As
for clothes, what Mackinac-Islander of the working-class, in those days
of the Fur Company's prosperity, needed more than he had on? When his
clothes wore out, Owen could go to the traders' and buy more. He washed
his other shirt in the lake at his feet, and hung it on the cedars to
dry by his door. Warm evenings, when the sun had soaked itself in
limpid ripples until its crimson spread through them afar, Owen stripped
himself and went bathing, with strong snorts of enjoyment as he rose
from his plunge. The narrow lake rim was littered with fragments which
had once filled the cavern. Two large pieces afforded him a table and a
seat for his visitors.
Owen had a choice of water for his drinking. Not thirty feet away on his
right a spring burst from the cliff and gushed through its little pool
down the beach. It was cold and delicious.
In the east side of the Kitchen was a natural tiny fireplace a couple
of feet high, screened by cedar foliage from the lake wind. Here Owen
cooked his meals, and the smoke was generally carried out from his
flueless hearth. The straits were then full of fish, and he had not far
to throw his lines to reach deep water.
Dependent on the patronage of Mackinac village, the Irishman had chosen
the very shop which would draw notice upon himself. His customers
tramped out to him along a rough beach under the heights, which helped
to wear away the foot-gear Owen mended. They stood grinning amiably at
his snug quarters. It was told as far as Drummond Island and the Sault
that a cobbler lived in the Devil's Kitchen on Mackinac.
He was a happy fellow, his clean Irish skin growing rosier in air pure
as the air of mid-ocean. The lake spread in variegated copper lights
almost at his feet. He did not like Mackinac village in summer, when the
engages were all back, and Indians camped tribes strong on the beach, to
receive their money from the government. French and savages shouldered
one another, the multitude of them making a great hubbub and a gay show
of clothes like a fair. Every voyageur was sparring with every other
voyageur. A challenge by the poke of a fist, and lo! a ring is formed
and two are fighting. The whipped one gets up, shakes hands with
his conqueror, and off they go to drink together. Owen despised such
fighting. His way was to take a club and break heads, and see some
blood run on the ground. It was better for him to dwell alone than to be
stirred up and left unsatisfied.
It was late in the afternoon, and the fresh smell of the water cheered
him as he sat stitching on a pair of deer-hide shoes for one Leon
Baudette, an engage, who was homesick for Montreal. The lowering sun
smote an hour-glass of light across the strait which separated him from
St. Ignace on the north shore, the old Jesuit station. Mother-of-pearl
clouds hung over the southern mainland, and the wash of the lake, which
was as pleasant as silence itself, diverted his mind from a distant
thump of Indian drums. He knew how lazy, naked warriors lay in their
lodges, bumping a mallet on stretched deer-hide and droning barbarous
monotones while they kicked their heels in air. If he despised anything
more than the way the French diverted themselves, it was the way the
Indians diverted themselves.
Without a sound there came into Owen's view on the right an Indian girl.
He was at first taken by surprise at her
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+--------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note |
|Spelling, punctuation and inconsistencies |
|in the original journal have been retained. |
+--------------------------------------------+
Scientific and Religious Journal.
VOL. I. JANUARY, 1880. NO. 1.
THE CONFLICT.
The pyramids, temples and palaces of Thebes are monuments of the ancient
intellects of our race. Great thinkers only were capable of giving to
the world the Vedas, the Apollo Belvidere and the Parthenon. The arts
and astronomy of Egypt harmonize very poorly with the idea that modern
scientists have all the wisdom and intelligence known in the history of
the ages. Among the wonderful characters of olden times we find
Epictetus, Josephus, Strabo, Pliny, Seneca, Virgil, Aristotle, Plato,
Tacitus, Thucydides and Herodotus.
The "Speculation of Evolution of Species" was advocated among the Greeks
six hundred years before the birth of Christ. Two thousand and three
hundred years ago the entire system of German philosophy, along with
modern pantheism, was advocated by the Buddhists and Brahmins.
In many very important respects the ancients were in advance of us,
especially in the arts, and we can not boast of superiority in either
letters or philosophy. "The gentlemen of modern materialistic schools do
not compare favorably with Plato and Cicero in the elevation and
reverence of their opinions." "Science has certainly made some
advancement, but where is the warrant for the boasting" of sciolists of
modern times?
Buddhists taught the most perfect outline of materialism in general.
"They believed in a supreme force, but denied the existence of a Supreme
Being. They rejected inquiry into first causes as unscientific,"
maintaining that facts alone were to be dealt with in all our
investigations.
The Brahmin contemplated the moment when his spirit would flow back into
the great "Pantheistic Being."
Modern materialists say, "We deal only with facts." "We never
speculate." The Buddhists, and the unbelievers who figure so boastingly
upon the rostrum in modern times, speak alike. They say: "As many facts
and second causes as you please, but ask no questions about first
causes; _that_ is unscientific." We should ask no questions (?) about
the invisible. They have been very true (?) to their own principles.
There is nothing speculative (?) in the hypothesis that General George
Washington was evolved from a crustacean. There never was a more absurd
and wild speculation. It is an old speculation. Anaximander, who lived
six centuries before Christ, advocated the assumption. His words are the
following: "The sun's heat, acting on the original miry earth, produced
filmy bladders or bubbles, and these, becoming surrounded with a prickly
rind, at length burst open, and as from an egg, animals came forth. At
first they were ill-formed and imperfect, but subsequently they
elaborated and developed." This has the genuine ring of the language of
modern unbelievers.
Christianity, in its beginning, had to encounter this "speculation"
along with the current literature and philosophy of a civilization which
was semi-barbarous and centuries old, but it triumphed over all, and in
the third century it triumphed everywhere. Since that time one effort
has been made upon the part of paganism to regain her former strength in
the old world. Julian made that effort. He tried to revive and establish
the supremacy of pagan thought by the power of the state. Subsequent to
this it disappeared in the east, and has only plead for toleration
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Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 56536-h.htm or 56536-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/56536/56536-h/56536-h.htm)
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Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/lifeofwaltwhitma00binnuoft
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
A LIFE OF WALT WHITMAN
BY THE SAME WRITER
MOODS AND OUTDOOR VERSES
("RICHARD ASKHAM")
FOR THE FELLOWSHIP
[Illustration: _Walt Whitman at thirty-five_]
A LIFE OF WALT WHITMAN
by
HENRY BRYAN BINNS
With Thirty-three Illustrations
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
First Published in 1905
TO
MY MOTHER
AND
HER MOTHER
THE REPUBLIC
PREFACE
To the reader, and especially to the critical reader, it would seem
but courteous to give at the beginning of my book some indication
of its purpose. It makes no attempt to fill the place either of a
critical study or a definitive biography. Though Whitman died thirteen
years ago, the time has not yet come for a final and complete life
to be written; and when the hour shall arrive we must, I think, look
to some American interpreter for the volume. For Whitman's life is
of a strongly American flavour. Instead of such a book I offer a
biographical study from the point of view of an Englishman, yet of
an Englishman who loves the Republic. I have not attempted, except
parenthetically here and there, to make literary decisions on the value
of Whitman's work, partly because he still remains an innovator upon
whose case the jury of the years must decide--a jury which is not yet
complete; and partly because I am not myself a literary critic. It is
as a man that I see and have sought to describe Whitman. But as a man
of special and exceptional character, a new type of mystic or seer.
And the conviction that he belongs to the order of initiates has
dragged me on to confessedly difficult ground.
Again, while seeking to avoid excursions into literary criticism, it
has seemed to me to be impossible to draw a real portrait of the man
without attempting some interpretation of his books and the quotation
from them of characteristic passages, for they are the record of his
personal attitude towards the problems most intimately affecting his
life. I trust that this part of my work may at any rate offer some
suggestions to the serious student of Whitman. Since he touched life at
many points, it has been full of pitfalls; and if among them I should
prove but a blind leader, I can only hope that those who follow will
keep open eyes.
Whitman has made his biography the more difficult to write by demanding
that he should be studied in relation to his time; to fulfil this
requirement was beyond my scope, but I have here and there suggested
the more notable outlines, within which the reader will supply
details from his own memory. As I have written especially for my own
countrymen, I have ventured to remind the reader of some of those
elementary facts of American history of which we English are too easily
forgetful.
The most important chapters of Whitman's life have been written by
himself, and will be found scattered over his complete works. To
these the following pages are intended as a modest supplement and
commentary. Already the Whitman literature has become extensive, but,
save in brief sketches, no picture of his
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HORTUS VITAE
ESSAYS ON THE GARDENING OF LIFE
BY
VERNON LEE
JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEAD
LONDON & NEW YORK. MDCCCCIV
SECOND EDITION.
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
DEDICATION
To MADAME TH: BLANC-BENTZON
MAIANO, NEAR FLORENCE,
June 20, 1903.
MY DEAR MADAME BLANC,
The first copy of this little book was, of course, to have been for
Gabrielle Delzant. I am fulfilling her wish, I think, in giving it,
instead, to you, who were her oldest friend; as I, alas! had time to be
only her latest.
She had read nearly all these essays; and, during those weeks of her
illness which I spent last autumn in Gascony, she had made me rewrite
several among them. She wanted to learn to read English aloud, and it
amused her and delighted me that she should do so on my writings. Her
French pronunciation gave an odd grace to the sentences; the little
hesitation spaced and accentuated their meaning; and I liked what I had
written when she read it. The afternoons at Parays which we spent
together in this way! Prints of _Mere Angelique_ and _Ces Messieurs de
Port Royal_ watching over us in her spacious bedroom, brown and yet
light like the library it had become; and among those Jansenist
worthies, the Turin Pallas Athena, with a sprig of green
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_THE WORKS_
OF
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
[Illustration]
THE WORKS
OF
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
EDITED BY
WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK, M.A.
FELLOW AND TUTOR OF TRINITY COLLEGE, AND PUBLIC ORATOR IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE;
AND WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A.
LIBRARIAN OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
_VOLUME III._
Cambridge and London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1863.
CAMBRIDGE:
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
The Preface vii
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW 3
Notes to The Taming of The Shrew 101
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 109
Notes to All's Well That Ends Well 215
TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL 223
Notes to Twelfth Night; or, What You Will 311
THE WINTER'S TALE 317
Notes to The Winter's Tale 429
PREFACE.
The four plays printed in this volume appeared for the first time in the
Folio of 1623, and in the same order in which they are here given.
Of _The Taming of the Shrew_ alone is there any Quarto edition. The
title-page of this, as it appears in Capell's copy, is as follows:
A wittie | and pleasant | Comedie | Called | _The Taming of the
Shrew_. | As it was acted by his Maiesties | _Seruants at the_
Blacke Friers | _and the_ Globe. | Written by Will. Shakespeare. |
LONDON, | Printed by W. S. for _John Smethwicke_, and are to be |
sold at his Shop in Saint _Dunstones_ Church- | yard vnder the
Diall: | 1631. |
From a minute comparison of this Quarto edition with the First Folio,
extending to points which are necessarily left unrecorded in our notes,
we have come to the conclusion that the Quarto was printed from the
Folio. It is necessary to mention this, because Mr Collier, in the
second edition of his Shakespeare, maintains that the Quarto was printed
long before 1623, perhaps as early as 1607 or 1609; that its publication
"had been in some way'stayed' by the intervention of the author, on
behalf of himself and the company to which he belonged; and that, having
in consequence been laid aside for a number of years, some copies of it,
remaining in the hands of Smithwicke the stationer, were issued in 1631,
as if it had been then first published." Mr Collier also conjectures
that the title-page was'struck off long subsequent to the printing of
the body of the comedy to which it is attached.' That this could not
have been the case appears from an examination of Capell's copy, the
only one known to us which has the title-page perfect. In this the title
forms part of the first quire, and has not been inserted. The paper on
which it is printed is the same as that used for the rest of the play,
the wire-marks corresponding throughout. The passages from the Quarto
and Folio which Mr Collier quotes in support of his theory seem to us to
make strongly against it.
We have not reprinted the old play called _The Taming of a Shrew_, on
which Shakespeare founded his comedy, because it is manifestly by
another hand. It is referred to in the notes as (Q).
The 'Long MS.,' to which we have referred, is a copy of the Second Folio
in the Library of Pembroke College, Cambridge, which was formerly in the
possession of Dr Roger Long, Master of the College from 1733 to 1770. It
contains marginal emendations, some from Theobald and Warburton, marked
'T.' and 'W.' respectively; some to which the initial 'L.' is affixed,
and some without any initial letter at all. Such of these as could not
be traced to any earlier source we have quoted as 'Long conj. MS.' or
'Long MS.' For permission to use this volume we are indebted to the
kindness of the Rev. C. H. Parez.
Mr Keightley has, with great liberality, sent for our use the MS. of his
forthcoming work 'The Shakespeare Expositor.' We beg to return him our
best thanks.
To the number of those whom we have to thank for kind assistance we add
with pleasure the names of the Rev. G. B. Bubier, the Rev. N. M.
Ferrers, and Dr Meredith of Quebec.
W. G. C.
W. A. W.
ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA.
_The Taming of the Shrew._
II. 1. 108. _To_] _Unto_ S. Walker conj.
IV. 1. 36, 37. _and... thou wilt_] _is... will thaw_ Badham
conj. In note on line 37 dele _will thaw_ Anon. conj.
IV. 5. 22. Add to note, _so it shall be, so_ Mitford conj.
IV. 5. 77. _Have to_] _Have at_ Jervis conj.
_All's Well that Ends Well._
I. 1. 97. In the note, for _Williams_ read _Badham_.
II. 1. 170. _maiden's_] _maid's_ S. Walker conj.
III. 2. 108. Add to note, _move the still-reeking_ Jervis conj.
IV. 2. 38. Add to note, _make ropes... snare or wake hopes...
scare_ Bubier conj.
IV. 3. 94. Add to note, _he has_ Steevens.
IV. 3. 96. For _he has_ read _has_, and in the note read _has_]
_ha's_ Ff. _he has_ Steevens.
_The Winter's Tale._
I. 2. 147, 148. Add to note, Her. _How my lord?_ Pol. _What...
brother?_
II. 1. 40. Add to note, _drink deep_ Long MS. Mr Staunton's
conjecture should be _drink deep o't_.
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[1].
A Lord. }
Christopher Sly, a tinker. } Persons in the
Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and Servants.} Induction
BAPTISTA, a rich gentleman of Padua.
_Vincentio_, an old gentleman of Pisa.
_Lucentio_, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
_Petruchio_[2], a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to Katharina.
GREMIO, }
HORTENSIO,} suitors to Bianca.
TRANIO, }
BIONDELLO,} servants to Lucentio.
GRUMIO[3],}
CURTIS[4],} servants to Petruchio.
A Pedant.
KATHARINA, the shrew,}
BIANCA, } daughters to Baptista.
Widow.
Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio.
SCENE: _Padua_, _and Petruchio's country house_.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] First given by Rowe.
[2] PETRUCHIO] PETRUCIO Knight. PETRUCCIO Ritson conj.
[3] GRUMIO] GRUNNIO S. Walker conj.
[4] CURTIS] Capell.
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.
INDUCTION.
SCENE I. _Before an alehouse on a heath_.
_Enter_ HOSTESS _and_ SLY.
_Sly._ I'll pheeze you, in faith.
_Host._ A pair of stocks, you rogue!
_Sly._ Y'are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore
paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! 5
_Host._ You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
_Sly._ No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy
cold bed, and warm thee.
_Host._ I know my remedy; I must go fetch the thirdborough.
[_Exit._ 10
_Sly._ Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and
kindly. [_Falls asleep._
_Horns winded_. _Enter a_ Lord _from hunting_, _with his train_.
_Lord._ Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:
Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd; 15
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
_First Hun._ Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; 20
He cried upon it at the merest loss
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
_Lord._ Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such. 25
But sup them well and look unto them all:
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
_First Hun._ I will, my lord.
_Lord._ What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?
_Sec. Hun._ He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale, 30
This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.
_Lord._ O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, 35
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?
_First Hun._ Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 40
_Sec. Hun._ It would seem strange unto him when he waked.
_Lord._ Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
Then take him up and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: 45
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight 50
And with a low submissive reverence
Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
Let one attend him with a silver basin
Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, 55
And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
Some one be ready with a costly suit
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease: 60
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
And when he says he is, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
It will be pastime passing excellent, 65
If it be husbanded with modesty.
_First Hun._ My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is.
_Lord._ Take him up gently and to bed with him; 70
And each one to his office when he wakes.
[_Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds._
Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
[_Exit Servingman._
Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
_Re-enter_ Servingman.
How now! who is it?
_Serv._ An't please your honour, players 75
That offer service to your lordship.
_Lord._ Bid them come near.
_Enter_ Players.
Now, fellows, you are welcome.
_Players._ We thank your honour.
_Lord._ Do you intend to stay with me to-night?
_A Player._ So please your lordship to accept our duty. 80
_Lord._ With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son:
'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well:
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd. 85
_A Player._ I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.
_Lord._ Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in happy time;
The rather for I have some sport in hand
Wherein your cunning can assist me much. 90
There is a lord will hear you play to-night:
But I am doubtful of your modesties;
Lest over-eyeing of his odd behaviour,--
For yet his honour never heard a play,--
You break into some merry passion 95
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile he grows impatient.
_A Player._ Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world.
_Lord._ Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, 100
And give them friendly welcome every one:
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
[_Exit one with the Players._
Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber; 105
And call him'madam,' do him obeisance.
Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observed in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished: 110
Such duty to the drunkard let him do
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say, 'What is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty and make known her love?' 115
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her noble lord restored to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteemed him 120
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which in a napkin being close convey'd 125
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:
Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [_Exit a Servingman._
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman: 130
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen 135
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
[INDUCTION.] Pope. om. Ff Q. See note (I).
[SCENE I. Before...] Theobald. A Hedge Ale-house. Capell.
[Enter...] Enter Begger and Hostes, Christophero Sly. Ff Q.
[1] _pheeze_] _fese_ (Q).
[2] _stocks_] F3 F4. _stockes_ F1 Q.] _stokes_ F2.
[4] _came in_] _came_ Rowe (ed. 1).
[5] _paucas_] _paucus_ F4.
[7] _Go by, Jeronimy_] _goe by Ieronimie_ Q. _go by S. Ieronimie_ Ff
(_Ieronimy_ F2. _Jeronimy_ F3 F4). _go by, Jeronimo_ Theobald. '_go
by_,' _says Jeronimy_ Steevens (Capell conj.). _go--by S. Jeronimy_
Knight. See note (II).
[9] _thirdborough_] Theobald. _head-borough_ Ff Q.
[10] [Exit.] Rowe. om. Ff Q.
[13] [Falls asleep.] Ff Q. Falls from off his bench, and sleeps.
Capell. Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Malone.
[14] SCENE II. Pope.
Horns winded.] Winde hornes. Ff Q.
[15] _Brach_] _Leech_ Hanmer. _Bathe_ Johnson conj. _Breathe_ Mitford
conj. _Brace_ Becket conj. _Trash_ Singer.
_Brach... emboss'd_;] (_Brach_ _Merriman_, _the poor cur, is
emboss'd_,) Grant White. _Brach_,
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AMATEUR FISH
CULTURE
BY CHARLES EDWARD WALKER
AUTHOR OF "OLD FLIES IN NEW
DRESSES" "SHOOTING ON A
SMALL INCOME," ETC
WESTMINSTER
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO LTD
2 WHITEHALL GARDENS
1901
Butler & Tanner,
The Selwood Printing Works,
Frome, and London.
PREFACE
My aim, in this little book, has been to give information and hints
which will prove useful to the amateur. Some of the plans and apparatus
suggested would not be suitable for fish culture on a large scale, but
my object has been to confine myself entirely to operations on a small
scale. I have to thank the Editor of _Land and Water_ for permission to
publish in book form what first appeared as a series of articles.
CHARLES WALKER.
Mayfield, Sussex.
_March, 1901._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Introductory 1
II Stocking Waters with Food 7
III Suitable Fish and Suitable Waters 14
IV Trout. Preliminary Hints and Advice 20
V Trout. Rearing Ponds, Boxes, and Hatching Trays 27
VI Trout. Management of the Ova and Alevins 34
VII Trout. Management of the Fry 42
VIII Trout. The Management of the Fry (_Continued_) 51
IX Trout. The Friends and Enemies of the Fish Culturist 58
X Trout. Management, Feeding, and Turning out of Yearlings 67
XI The Rearing of the Rainbow Trout, American Brook Trout,
and Char 72
XII Salmon and Sea-Trout 81
XIII Coarse Fish 88
Appendix 93
Index 97
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
Fish culture of a certain kind dates from very early times, but its
scientific development has only come about quite recently. Most people
know that in our own country the monks had stew ponds, where they kept
fish, principally carp, and also that the Romans kept fish in ponds. In
the latter case we hear more often of the eel than of other fish. The
breeding of trout and salmon, and the artificial spawning and hatching
of ova, are, however, an innovation of our own time.
Much has been discovered about the procreation of fish, and in no case
have scientists worked so hard and discovered more than in the case of
_Salmonidae_. Fish culture, particularly trout culture, has become a
trade, and a paying one. To any one who has the least idea of the
difficulties to be overcome in rearing _Salmonidae_, this fact alone
proves that fish culture must have progressed to a very advanced stage
as a science.
This advance has in very many, if not in the majority of cases, been
made by the bitter experience gained through failures and mishaps, for
these have led fish culturists to try many different means to prevent
mischances, or to rectify them if they have happened. Some of the most
serious difficulties experienced by the early fish culturists who bred
_Salmonidae_ can now be almost disregarded, for they hardly exist for the
modern fish culturist, with the knowledge he possesses of the experience
of others.
So much of what has been done in fish culture is generally known to
those who have studied and practised it, that the beginner can nowadays
commence far ahead of the point whence the first fish culturists
started. Many of his difficulties have been overcome for him already,
and though he will not, of course, meet with the success of the man of
experience, still he ought with the exercise of an average amount of
intelligence to avoid such failures as would completely disgust him.
There are many pieces of water containing nothing but coarse fish which
are very suitable for trout of some kind. Ponds, particularly those
which have a stream running through them, will, as a rule, support a
good head of trout if properly managed. Again a water which contains
trout may become more or less depleted, and here it is necessary to
supply the deficiency of trout by some means. The easiest way is, of
course, to buy yearling or two-year-old fish from a piscicultural
establishment, of which there are many in the kingdom, but I know that
there are many fishermen who would much prefer to rear their own fish
from the ova, than to buy ready-made fish. Any one who has the time and
opportunity to rear his own fish will be amply repaid by the amusement
and interest gained, and it should be the cheaper method of stocking or
re-stocking a water.
The same remarks apply to a certain extent to waters which will not
support trout, or where the owner wants more coarse fish. The stock of
coarse fish may be improved by fish culture just as much as a stock of
trout.
In his first year or two, it is very possible that the amateur will not
save very much by being his own pisciculturist. If, however, he is
careful, and works with intelligence, it is quite possible that he may
succeed better than he had hoped and rear a good head of fish at a less
cost than the purchase of yearlings. In any case he will have had a
great deal of pleasure and gained experience as well as reared some
fish.
In the present little volume, I propose to try and deal with fish
culture in such a way as to help the amateur who wishes to rear fish to
stock his own water. Much of the existing literature of the subject
deals with it on such a large scale that the amateur is frightened to
attempt what is apparently so huge an undertaking. Fish culture may,
however, be carried out on a small scale with success, and though
considerable attention is necessary, particularly with young
_Salmonidae_, it is not a task which involves a very great proportion of
the time of any one undertaking it. It is absolutely necessary, however,
that the amateur fish culturist should live on the spot, or have some
one who is intelligent and perfectly trustworthy who does. In every case
in my experience, trusting the care of young fish to a keeper or servant
has resulted in failure, and in every failure I have seen where the fish
have not been trusted to the care of a servant, the cause has been very
obvious, and could easily have been avoided.
The rearing of trout is the most important branch of fish culture to the
amateur, and fortunately but slight modifications are necessary in
rearing other fish. What is good enough for trout is good enough for
most fish, therefore I think that I shall be right in describing trout
culture at considerable length, and dealing with other fish in a
somewhat summary manner. The difference in the management, etc., of
other fish I shall point out after describing how to rear trout.
To begin with, the amateur must not suppose that because he puts fish
into a stream or pond he will succeed in stocking that water or
increasing the head of fish. There are many other things to be
considered. The river, stream, or pond must be of a suitable character
for the fish, and there must be plenty of food. I am sure that it is
much more important to consider carefully whether the water is suitable,
and contains a proper supply of food, than to consider how the fish are
to be obtained, for recourse may always be had to a professional fish
culturist--fish of almost any kind and any age can be bought ready
made.
The point I would impress upon the amateur more forcibly than anything
else, is that he should be sure that there is plenty for his fish to eat
in the water, before he thinks of putting them into it. It is for this
reason that I devote my next chapter chiefly to the stocking of waters
with food and to the improvement of the food supply in waters where some
food already exists.
CHAPTER II
STOCKING WATERS WITH FOOD
It may seem somewhat superfluous to say that fish cannot live in any
water unless that water contains the food supply necessary for them to
thrive upon, and yet this is the point most often overlooked in stocking
waters with fish. Small attempts at stocking with creatures suitable for
food, particularly after the fish have been already introduced, are not
at all likely to succeed. Such an important matter when treated as a
small afterthought is almost sure to end in failure of the whole
business of stocking.
But a small amount of thought will convince any one that in order that
there may be a sufficient amount of animal life in a water, there must
be an adequate vegetable life, for weeds are almost always necessary to
the well-being of the creatures which serve as food for fishes.
In the case of a pond it is generally fairly easy to introduce a good
stock of suitable weeds. The best method is to let the pond down as low
as possible, and then to plant some weeds round the margin; the water is
then allowed to gradually fill up the pond, and as it rises weeds are
planted round the rising margin of the water. In ponds which cannot be
emptied at all, or not sufficiently to carry out this plan, weeds may be
planted in an easy but not quite so effectual a manner. They may be
planted in shallow baskets containing some mud from the bottom of the
pond, and then lowered in suitable places from a boat, or bundles of the
weed may be tied to stones and dropped into the water in a similar
manner.
These latter methods are, of course, not so good as actually planting
the weeds round the advancing margin of the water, for success depends
to a certain extent upon chance. Some of the weeds thus planted are,
however, sure to take root and grow. Plants of different kinds, of
course, are necessary at different depths and on different kinds of
bottoms, and good kinds are necessary at the margin of the water as
well. I give a list of some suitable plants of each kind at the end of
this chapter.
Similar methods are used in planting weeds in rivers and streams to
those used in ponds. If the weeds are planted in baskets, the baskets
must, of course, be weighted when put in a position where the current
can act upon them.
Besides vegetation in the water, vegetation on the bank is of
considerable importance. I shall deal with this at a later period more
fully, as trees and bushes, besides harbouring many insects which serve
as food for fish, have also considerable importance in giving cover to
the fish and to the fisherman who is pursuing them.
I think that in the case of a bare water, a year at least should be
devoted to developing a good supply of vegetation. This will generally
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IN THE MIST OF THE MOUNTAINS
+----------------------------+
| |
| _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ |
| |
| (Uniform with this volume) |
| |
| SEVEN LITTLE AUSTRALIANS |
| THE FAMILY AT MISRULE |
| THE LITTLE LARRIKIN |
| MISS BOBBIE |
| THE CAMP AT WANDINONG |
| THREE LITTLE MAIDS |
| THE STORY OF A BABY |
| LITTLE MOTHER MEG |
| BETTY AND CO. |
| MOTHER'S LITTLE GIRL |
| THE WHITE-ROOF TREE |
| THE STOLEN VOYAGE |
| |
+----------------------------+
[Illustration: "'I'm so sorry, chickies,' she said kindly." (Page 19.)]
IN THE MIST OF
THE MOUNTAINS
By
ETHEL TURNER
(Mrs. H. R. Curlewis)
_Author of "Seven Little Australians," "The Little Larrikin,"
"Miss Bobbie," etc., etc._
ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. MACFARLANE
LONDON
WARD LOCK & CO. LIMITED
1908
TO
H. R. C.
"They that have heard the overword
Know life's a dream worth dreaming."
_Henley._
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I Somewhat Contagious 9
II Treating of Larkin and his Commission 23
III Miss Bibby 31
IV The Famous Novelist 43
V Ante-prandial Visitors 55
VI A Grocery Order 60
VII Letters to a Mother 72
VIII Across the Rubicon 87
IX The Interview for the "Evening Mail" 96
X Anna enjoys Ill-health 112
XI Miss Bibby's Holiday 126
XII In Black and White 135
XIII An Interview with the Interviewer 144
XIV The Literary Microbe 156
XV "Out of the Mouths of Babes" 170
XVI Wooing the Muse 179
XVII Literature is Low 190
XVIII An Editing Pencil 197
XIX Max Runs Amuck 205
XX A Lesson in Discipline 216
XXI In Print at last 227
XXII A Master Mind 229
XXIII The Picnic at the Falls 243
XXIV At the Second Fall 259
CHAPTER I
SOMEWHAT CONTAGIOUS
It is October and the mountains are waking from their short winter
sleep.
It is October, the month of the moving mists.
Come and let us take a walk, not down Fleet Street with Dr. Johnson, but
up a mountain side with Nature,--nay, with God Himself. There is nothing
to see, absolutely nothing at all. You know that there are trees on
either hand of you, and that the undergrowth is bursting into the stars
and delicate bells of its springtime bloom. But your knowledge of this
is merely one of the services your memory does for you, for the mist has
covered it all away from sight.
You look behind you and your world is blotted out.
You look in front of you,--nay, you cannot look in front of you, for the
mist lies as a veil, actually on your face.
"I breathed up a whole cloud this morning," Lynn remarked once.
"I eated one--and it was nasty," said Max.
Still you continue to look in front of you as far as may be.
And the next moment the veil lifts,--clean up over your head perhaps,
and you see it rolling away on the wind to one side of you, yards and
yards of flying white gossamer, its ragged edges catching in the trees.
And now your gaze leaps and lingers, and lingers and leaps for miles in
front of you. You look downward and the ball of the earth has split at
your feet and the huge fissure has widened and widened till a limitless
valley lies there. You look down hundreds of feet and see like sprouting
seedlings the tops of gum trees,--gum trees two hundred feet high.
The far side of the valley shows a rolling mountain chain washed in in
tender shades of purple, paling nearer at hand to blue, the tender
indescri
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GRAY'S LESSONS IN BOTANY
REVISED EDITION
THE
ELEMENTS OF BOTANY
FOR BEGINNERS AND FOR SCHOOLS
By ASA GRAY
IVISON, BLAKEMAN, AND COMPANY
NEW YORK AND CHICAGO
_Copyright_,
By Asa Gray.
1887.
PREFACE.
This volume takes the place of the author's Lessons in Botany and
Vegetable Physiology, published over a quarter of a century ago. It is
constructed on the same lines, and is a kind of new and much revised
edition of that successful work. While in some respects more extended,
it is also more concise and terse than its predecessor. This should the
better fit it for its purpose now that competent teachers are common.
They may in many cases develop paragraphs into lectures, and fully
illustrate points which are barely, but it is hoped clearly, stated.
Indeed, even for those without a teacher, it may be that a condensed is
better than a diffuse exposition.
The book is adapted to the higher schools, "How Plants Grow and Behave"
being the "Botany for Young People and Common Schools." It is intended
to ground beginners in Structural Botany and the principles of vegetable
life, mainly as concerns Flowering or Phanerogamous plants, with which
botanical instruction should always begin; also to be a companion and
interpreter to the Manuals and Floras by which the student threads his
flowery way to a clear knowledge of the surrounding vegetable creation.
Such a book, like a grammar, must needs abound in technical words, which
thus arrayed may seem formidable; nevertheless, if rightly apprehended,
this treatise should teach that the study of botany is not the learning
of names and terms, but the acquisition of knowledge and ideas. No
effort should be made to commit technical terms to memory. Any term used
in describing a plant or explaining its structure can be looked up when
it is wanted, and that should suffice. On the other hand, plans of
structure, types, adaptations, and modifications, once understood, are
not readily forgotten; and they give meaning and interest to the
technical terms used in explaining them.
In these "Elements" naturally no mention has been made of certain terms
and names which recent cryptogamically-minded botanists, with lack of
proportion and just perspective, are endeavoring to introduce into
phanerogamous botany, and which are not needed nor appropriate, even in
more advanced works, for the adequate recognition of the ascertained
analogies and homologies.
As this volume will be the grammar and dictionary to more than one or
two Manuals, Floras, etc., the particular directions for procedure which
were given in the "First Lessons" are now relegated to those works
themselves, which in their new editions will provide the requisite
explanations. On the other hand, in view of such extended use, the
Glossary at the end of this book has been considerably enlarged. It will
be found to include not merely the common terms of botanical description
but also many which are unusual or obsolete; yet any of them may now and
then be encountered. Moreover, no small number of the Latin and Greek
words which form the whole or part of the commoner specific names are
added to this Glossary, some in an Anglicized, others in their Latin
form. This may be helpful to students with small Latin and less Greek,
in catching the meaning of a botanical name or term.
The illustrations in this volume are largely increased in number. They
are mostly from the hand of Isaac Sprague.
It happens that the title chosen for this book is that of the author's
earliest publication, in the year 1836, of which copies are rarely seen;
so that no inconvenience is likely to arise from the present use of the
name.
ASA GRAY.
Cambridge, Massachusetts,
_March, 1887_.
CONTENTS.
Page
SECTION I. INTRODUCTORY 9
SECTION II. FLAX AS A PATTERN PLANT 11
Growth from the Seed, Organs of Vegetation 11
Blossoming, Flower, &c. 14
SECTION III. MORPHOLOGY OF SEEDLINGS 15
Germinating Maples 15
Cotyledons thickened, hypogaeous in germination 18
Store of Food external to the Embryo 20
Cotyledons as to number 22
Dicotyledonous and Polycotyledonous 23
Monocotyledonous 24
Simple-stemmed Plants 26
SECTION IV. GROWTH FROM BUDS; BRANCHING 27
Buds, situation and kinds 27
Vigorous vegetation from strong Buds 28
Arrangement of Branches 29
Non-developed, Latent, and Accessory Buds 30
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E-text prepared by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, René Anderson Benitz, and
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(http://www.pgdp.net)
Transcriber's note:
Minor printer's errors have been corrected without note.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected and are
listed at the end of the text.
"Great Writers."
Edited by
Professor Eric S. Robertson, M.A.,
LIFE OF DARWIN.
LIFE OF CHARLES DARWIN
by
G. T. BETTANY
London
Walter Scott
24 Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row
1887
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Darwin's ancestry; his grandfather, Dr. Erasmus Darwin, a
successful physician, and author of "The Botanic Garden," "The
Temple of Nature," &c.; his father, Robert Waring Darwin, also
a successful physician; his maternal grandfather, Josiah
Wedgwood, the celebrated potter; his mother's education and
training; Charles Robert Darwin, born at Shrewsbury, Feb. 12,
1809; Mrs. Darwin dies in July, 1817; her eldest son, Erasmus,
friend of the Carlyles; Charles Darwin's education by Mr. Case,
and at Shrewsbury Grammar School; his character as a boy; is
sent to Edinburgh University in 1825 11
CHAPTER II.
Darwin a member of the Plinian Society, of Edinburgh; makes
natural history excursions; his first scientific paper read
March 27, 1827; friendship with Dr. Grant; Jameson's lectures
on zoology; Darwin enters Christ's College, Cambridge, in 1828;
his friendship with Prof. Henslow; his account of Henslow;
Darwin at this time specially an entomologist; his excursions
with Henslow; takes B.A. degree in 1831, M.A. in 1837; voyage
of _Beagle_ proposed, and Darwin appointed as naturalist;
the _Beagle_ sails on Dec. 27, 1831; Darwin's letters to
Henslow published 1835; 1832, Darwin at Teneriffe, Cape
de Verde Islands, St. Paul's Rocks, Bahia, Rio de Janeiro
(April); excursions into interior and amusing adventures;
his experiences and horror of slavery; at Monte Video,
July; Maldonado, Rio <DW64>; visit to Tierra del Fuego, Dec.
1832--Jan. 1833; _rencontre_ with General Rosas; many extinct
animals discovered; Buenos Ayres, Sept. 1833; excursion to
Santa Fe; Port Desire, Dec. 1833; Port St. Julian, Jan. 1834;
Valparaiso, July 1834; expeditions to the Andes, Santiago, &c.;
Chiloe, Nov. 1834; the Chonos Archipelago, Dec. 1834; Valdivia,
Feb. 1835; an earthquake experience; expedition across the
Cordillera in March, 1835; voyage across the Pacific commenced
in September; the Galapagos Archipelago and its interesting
animals; Tahiti, Nov. 1835; Darwin's opinion of English
products, and of the influence of Christian missionaries; New
Zealand, Dec. 1835; Port Jackson, Jan. 1836; Tasmania, Feb.;
the Keeling Islands, April; the homeward journey; Falmouth
reached, Oct. 2, 1836; Capt. Fitzroy's opinion of Darwin;
Darwin's first impression of savages 22
CHAPTER III.
Darwin elected F.G.S.; Lyell's high opinion of him; secretary
of the Geological Society, Feb. 1838-41; reads numerous papers
before the Society; elected F.R.S., Jan. 24, 1839; marries his
cousin, Miss Wedgwood, early in 1839; "Journal of Researches,"
published 1839, highly praised in _Quarterly Review_;
publication of zoology of the _Beagle_ (1839-43); extraordinary
animals described therein; other results of the voyage;
plants described by Hooker and Berkeley; work on "Coral
Reefs" published 1842; Darwin's new theory at once accepted;
subsequent views of Semper, Dana, and Murray; second and third
parts of Geology of _Beagle_ ("Volcanic Islands" and "
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How To Do It.
By
Edward Everett Hale.
Contents.
Chapter I. Introductory.--How We Met
Chapter II. How To Talk
Chapter III. Talk
Chapter IV. How To Write
Chapter V. How To Read. I.
Chapter VI. How To Read. II.
Chapter VII. How To Go Into Society
Chapter VIII. How To Travel
Chapter IX. Life At School
Chapter X. Life In Vacation
Chapter XI. Life Alone
Chapter XII. Habits In Church
Chapter XIII. Life With Children
Chapter XIV. Life With Your Elders
Chapter XV. Habits Of Reading
Chapter XVI. Getting Ready
How To Do It.
Chapter I.
Introductory.--How We Met.
The papers which are here collected enter in some detail into the success
and failure of a large number of young people of my acquaintance, who are
here named as
Alice Faulconbridge,
Bob Edmeston,
Clara,
Clem Waters,
Edward Holiday,
Ellen Liston,
Emma Fortinbras,
Enoch Putnam, _brother of_ Horace,
Esther,
Fanchon,
Fanny, _cousin to_ Hatty Fielding
Florence,
Frank,
George Ferguson (Asaph Ferguson's _brother_),
Hatty Fielding,
Herbert,
Horace Putnam,
Horace Felltham (_a very different person_),
Jane Smith,
Jo Gresham,
Laura Walter,
Maud Ingletree,
Oliver Ferguson, _brother to_ Asaph _and_ George,
Pauline,
Rachel,
Robert,
Sarah Clavers,
Stephen,
Sybil,
Theodora,
Tom Rising,
Walter,
William Hackmatack,
William Withers.
It may be observed that there are thirty-four of them. They make up a
very nice set, or would do so if they belonged together. But, in truth,
they live in many regions, not to say countries. None of them are too
bright or too stupid, only one of them is really selfish, all but one or
two are thoroughly sorry for their faults when they commit them, and all
of them who are good for anything think of themselves very little. There
are a few who are approved members of the Harry Wadsworth Club. That means
that they "look up and not down," they "look forward and not back," they
"look out and not in," and they "lend a hand." These papers were first
published, much as they are now collected, in the magazine "Our Young
Folks," and in that admirable weekly paper "The Youth's Companion," which
is held in grateful remembrance by a generation now tottering off the
stage, and welcomed, as I see, with equal interest by the grandchildren as
they totter on. From time to time, therefore, as the different series have
gone on, I have received pleasant notes from other young people, whose
acquaintance I have thus made with real pleasure, who have asked more
explanation as to the points involved. I have thus been told that my
friend, Mr. Henry Ward Beecher, is not governed by all my rules for young
people's composition, and that Miss Throckmorton, the governess, does not
believe Archbishop Whately is infallible. I have once and again been asked
how I made the acquaintance of such a nice set of children. And I can well
believe that many of my young correspondents would in that matter be glad
to be as fortunate as I.
Perhaps, then, I shall do something to make the little book more
intelligible, and to connect its parts, if in this introduction I tell of
the one occasion when the _dramatis personae_ met each other; and in order
to that, if I tell how they all met me.
First of all, then, my dear young friends, I began active life, as soon as
I had left college, as I can well wish all of you might do. I began in
keeping school. Not that I want to have any of you do this long, unless an
evident fitness or "manifest destiny" appear so to order. But you may be
sure that, for a year or two of the start of life, there is nothing that
will teach you your own ignorance so well as having to teach children the
few things you know, and to answer, as best you can, their questions on
all grounds. There was poor Jane, on the first day of that charming visit
at the Penroses, who was betrayed by the simplicity and cordiality of the
dinner-table--where she was the youngest of ten or twelve strangers--into
taking a protective lead of all the conversation, till at the very last I
heard her explaining to dear Mr. Tom Coram himself,--a gentleman who had
lived in Java ten years,--that coffee-berries were red when they were
ripe. I was sadly mortified for my poor Jane as Tom's eyes twinkled. She
would never have got into that rattletrap way of talking if she had kept
school for two years. Here, again, is a capital letter from Oliver
Ferguson, Asaph's younger brother, describing his life on the Island at
Paris all through the siege. I should have sent it yesterday to Mr.
Osgood, who would be delighted to print it in the Atlantic Monthly, but
that the spelling is disgraceful. Mr. Osgood and Mr. Howells would think
Oliver a fool before they had read down the first page. "L-i-n, lin,
n-e-n, nen, linen." Think of that! Oliver would never have spelled "linen"
like that if he had been two years a teacher. You can go through four
years at Harvard College spelling so, but you cannot go through two years
as a schoolmaster.
Well, I say I was fortunate enough to spend two years as an assistant
schoolmaster at the old Boston Latin School,--the oldest institution of
learning, as we are fond of saying, in the United States. And there first
I made my manhood's acquaintance with boys.
"Do you think," said dear Dr. Malone to me one day, "that my son Robert
will be too young to enter college next August?" "How old will he be?"
said I, and I was told. Then as Robert was at that moment just six months
younger than I, who had already graduated, I said wisely, that I thought
he would do, and Dr. Malone chuckled, I doubt not, as I did certainly, at
the gravity of my answer. A nice set of boys I had. I had above me two of
the most loyal and honorable of gentlemen, who screened me from all
reproof for my blunders. My discipline was not of the best, but my
purposes were; and I and the boys got along admirably.
It was the old schoolhouse. I believe I shall explain in another place,
in this volume, that it stood where Parker's Hotel stands, and my room
occupied the spot in space where you, Florence, and you, Theodora, dined
with your aunt Dorcas last Wednesday before you took the cars for
Andover,--the ladies' dining-room looking on what was then Cook's Court,
and is now Chapman Place. Who Cook was I know not. The "Province Street"
of to-day was then much more fitly called "Governor's Alley." For boys
do not know that that minstrel-saloon so long known as "Ordway's," just
now changed into Sargent's Hotel, was for a century, more or less, the
official residence of the Governor of Massachusetts. It was the
"Province House."
On the top of it, for a weathercock, was the large mechanical brazen
Indian, who, whenever he heard the Old South clock strike twelve, shot off
his brazen arrow. The little boys used to hope to see this. But just as
twelve came was the bustle of dismissal, and I have never seen one who did
see him, though for myself I know he did as was said, and have never
questioned it. That opportunity, however, was up stairs, in Mr. Dixwell's
room. In my room, in the basement, we had no such opportunity.
The glory of our room was that it was supposed, rightly or not, that a
part of it was included in the old schoolhouse which was there before the
Revolution. There were old men still living who remembered the troublous
times, the times that stirred boys' souls, as the struggle for
independence began. I have myself talked with Jonathan Darby Robbins, who
was himself one of the committee who waited on the British general to
demand that their coasting should not be obstructed. There is a reading
piece about it in one of the school-books. This general was not Gage, as
he is said to be in the histories, but General Haldimand; and his
quarters were at the house which stood nearly where Franklin's statue
stands now, just below King's Chapel. His servant had put ashes on the
coast which the boys had made, on the sidewalk which passes the Chapel as
you go down School Street. When the boys remonstrated, the servant
ridiculed them,--he was not going to mind a gang of rebel boys. So the
boys, who were much of their fathers' minds, appointed a committee, of
whom my friend was one, to wait on General Haldimand himself. They called
on him, and they told him that coasting was one of their inalienable
rights and that he must not take it away. The General knew too well that
the people of the town must not be irritated to take up his servant's
quarrel, and he told the boys that their coast should not be interfered
with. So they carried their point. The story-book says that he clasped his
hands and said, "Heavens! Liberty is in the very air! Even these boys
speak of their rights as do their patriot sires!" But of this Mr. Robbins
told me nothing, and as Haldimand was a Hessian, of no great enthusiasm
for liberty, I do not, for my part, believe it.
The morning of April 19, 1775, Harrison Gray Otis, then a little boy of
eight years old, came down Beacon Street to school, and found a brigade of
red-coats in line along Common Street,--as Tremont Street was then
called,--so that he could not cross into School Street. They were Earl
Percy's brigade. Class in history, where did Percy's brigade go that day,
and what became of them before night? A red-coat corporal told the Otis
boy to walk along Common Street, and not try to cross the line. So he did.
He went as far as Scollay's Building before he could turn their flank,
then he went down to what you call Washington Street, and came up to
school,--late. Whether his excuse would have been sufficient I do not
know. He was never asked for it. He came into school just in time to hear
old Lovel, the Tory schoolmaster, say, "War's begun and school's done.
_Dimittite libros_"--which means, "Put away your books." They put them
away, and had a vacation of a year and nine months thereafter, before the
school was open again.
Well, in this old school I had spent four years of my boyhood, and here,
as I say, my manhood's acquaintance with boys began. I taught them Latin,
and sometimes mathematics. Some of them will remember a famous Latin poem
we wrote about Pocahontas and John Smith. All of them will remember how
they capped Latin verses against the master, twenty against one, and put
him down. These boys used to cluster round my table at recess and talk.
Danforth Newcomb, a lovely, gentle, accurate boy, almost always at the
head of his class,--he died young. Shang-hae, San Francisco, Berlin,
Paris, Australia,--I don't know what cities, towns, and countries have the
rest of them. And when they carry home this book for their own boys to
read, they will find some of their boy-stories here.
Then there was Mrs. Merriam's boarding-school. If you will read the
chapter on travelling you will find about one of the vacations of her
girls. Mrs. Merriam was one of Mr. Ingham's old friends,--and he is a man
with whom I have had a great deal to do. Mrs. Merriam opened a school for
twelve girls. I knew her very well, and so it came that I knew her ways
with them. Though it was a boarding-school, still the girls had just as
"good a time" as they had at home, and when I found that some of them
asked leave to spend vacation with her I knew they had better times. I
remember perfectly the day when Mrs. Phillips asked them down to the old
mansion-house, which seems so like home to me, to eat peaches. And it was
determined that the girls should not think they were under any "company"
restraint, so no person but themselves was present when the peaches were
served, and every girl ate as many as for herself she determined best.
When they all rode horseback, Mrs. Merriam and I used to ride together
with these young folks behind or before, as it listed them. So, not
unnaturally, being a friend of the family, I came to know a good many of
them very well.
For another set of them--you may choose the names to please
yourselves--the history of my relationship goes back to the Sunday school
of the Church of the Unity in Worcester. The first time I ever preached in
that church, namely, May 3, 1846, there was but one person in it who had
gray hair. All of us of that day have enough now. But we were a set of
young people, starting on a new church, which had, I assure you, no dust
in the pulpit-cushions. And almost all the children were young, as you may
suppose. The first meeting of the Sunday school showed, I think,
thirty-six children, and more of them were under nine than over. They are
all twenty-five years older now than they were then. Well, we started
without a library for the Sunday school. But in a corner of my study Jo
Matthews and I put up some three-cornered shelves, on which I kept about a
hundred books such as children like, and young people who are no longer
children; and then, as I sat reading, writing, or stood fussing over my
fuchsias or labelling the mineralogical specimens, there would come in one
or another nice girl or boy, to borrow a "Rollo" or a "Franconia," or to
see if Ellen Liston had returned "Amy Herbert." And so we got very good
chances to find each other out. It is not a bad plan for a young minister,
if he really want to know what the young folk of his parish are. I know
it was then and there that I conceived the plan of writing "Margaret
Percival in America" as a sequel to Miss Sewell's "Margaret Percival," and
that I wrote my half of that history.
The Worcester Sunday school grew beyond thirty-six scholars; and I have
since had to do with two other Sunday schools, where, though the children
did not know it, I felt as young as the youngest of them all. And in that
sort of life you get chances to come at nice boys and nice girls which
most people in the world do not have.
And the last of all the congresses of young people which I will name,
where I have found my favorites, shall be the vacation congresses,--when
people from all the corners of the world meet at some country hotel, and
wonder who the others are the first night, and, after a month, wonder
again how they ever lived without knowing each other as brothers and
sisters. I never had a nicer time than that day when we celebrated
Arthur's birthday by going up to Greely's Pond. "Could Amelia walk so
far? She only eight years old, and it was the whole of five miles by a
wood-road, and five miles to come back again." Yes, Amelia was certain she
could. Then, "whether Arthur could walk so far, he being nine." Why, of
course he could if Amelia could. So eight-year-old, nine-year-old,
ten-year-old, eleven-year-old, and all the rest of the ages,--we tramped
off together, and we stumbled over the stumps, and waded through the mud,
and tripped lightly, like Somnambula in the opera, over the log bridges,
which were single logs and nothing more, and came successfully to Greely's
Pond,--beautiful lake of Egeria that it is, hidden from envious and lazy
men by forest and rock and mountain. And the children of fifty years old
and less pulled off shoes and stockings to wade in it; and we caught in
tin mugs little seedling trouts not so long as that word "seedling" is on
the page, and saw them swim in the mugs and set them free again; and we
ate the lunches with appetites as of Arcadia; and we stumped happily home
again, and found, as we went home, all the sketch-books and bait-boxes
and neckties which we had lost as we went up. On a day like that you get
intimate, if you were not intimate before.
O dear! don't you wish you were at Waterville now?
Now, if you please, my dear Fanchon, we will not go any further into the
places where I got acquainted with the heroes and heroines of this book.
Allow, of those mentioned here, four to the Latin school, five to the
Unity Sunday school, six to the South Congregational, seven to vacation
acquaintance, credit me with nine children of my own and ten brothers and
sisters, and you will find no difficulty in selecting who of these are
which of those, if you have ever studied the science of "Indeterminate
Analysis" in Professor Smythe's Algebra.
"Dear Mr. Hale, you are making fun of us. We never know when you are
in earnest."
Do not be in the least afraid, dear Florence. Remember that a central rule
for comfort in life is this, "Nobody was
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[Illustration: Mount Assiniboine.]
CAMPING IN THE
CANADIAN ROCKIES
AN ACCOUNT OF CAMP LIFE IN THE WILDER PARTS OF THE CANADIAN ROCKY
MOUNTAINS, TOGETHER WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE REGION ABOUT BANFF, LAKE
LOUISE, AND GLACIER, AND A SKETCH OF THE EARLY EXPLORATIONS
BY
WALTER DWIGHT WILCOX
[Illustration]
WITH TWENTY-FIVE FULL-PAGE PHOTOGRAVURES, AND MANY TEXT ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
NEW YORK
27 West Twenty-third Street
LONDON
24 Bedford Street, Strand
_The Knickerbocker Press_
1896
Copyright, 1896
BY
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
_Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London_
_The Knickerbocker Press, New York_
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
The Canadian Rocky Mountains offer exceptional attractions to those who
enjoy natural scenery, sport, and camp life. Few regions of the world
combining mountain, lake, and forest scenery possess the additional
advantage of a delightful summer climate, such as obtains in the
Canadian Rockies.
The extremely wild character of this part of the Rocky Mountains, and
the very short time since it was opened up to travellers, are probably,
in great part, the reasons for the lack of literature and the absence of
any thoroughly illustrated publication concerning this region.
During a period of four years, the author has made camping excursions
into many of the wilder parts of the mountains and effected a
considerable number of ascents. An excellent camera has been an almost
inseparable companion in every excursion, so that photographs of the
typical scenery have been obtained from every possible point of view.
Moreover, throughout all the processes of photographing, no expense of
time or labor has been spared in order to obtain true and artistic
representations of nature. Nor have these results been obtained without
considerable sacrifice, for in many cases the proper light effects on
lakes and forests required hours of delay, and frequently, on lofty
mountain summits, high winds made it necessary to anchor the camera with
stones; while the cold and exposure of those high altitudes made the
circumstances unfavorable for successful work.
A map is not included in the volume, as, owing to the wildness of the
country, there are no detailed maps covering this region that are
entirely satisfactory. The best map, and, in fact, the only one
available, is published in Dr. Dawson’s _Preliminary Report_ on this
part of the Rocky Mountains.
The author makes grateful acknowledgment of the assistance received from
many friends in the preparation of this book. Special thanks are due to
Prof. J. H. Gore, of Columbian University, and to the Hon. Chas. D.
Walcott, Director of the United States Geological Survey, for the
valuable aid and information given by them; to M. Guillaume La Mothe for
an interesting letter concerning the first exploration of the Fraser
River; and to Sir William Van Horne for the many courtesies extended.
W. D. W.
Washington, D.C., July, 1896.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
_Banff—Its Location—The Village—Tourists—Hotels—Topography of the
Region—Rundle and Cascade Mountains—The Devil’s Lake—Sir George
Simpson’s Journey to this Region—Peechee the Indian Guide—An
Indian Legend—The Missionary Rundle—Dr. Hector—The Climate of
Banff—A Summer Snow-Storm—The Mountains in Winter_ 1-15
CHAPTER II.
_Lake Louise—First Impressions—An Abode of Perpetual Winter—The
Chalet—Visitors—Stirring Tales of Adventure—Primeval
Forests—Forest Fires—Mosquitoes and Bull-Dog Flies—Mortal Combats
between Wasps and Bull-dogs—The Old Chalet—Morning on the
Lake—Approach of a Storm—Sublimity of a Mountain
Thunder-Storm—Cloud Effects—The Lake in October—A Magnificent
Avalanche from Mount Lefroy—A Warning of Approaching Winter_ 16-35
CHAPTER III.
_Surroundings of the Lake—Position of Mountains and Valleys—The
Spruce and Balsam Firs—The Lyall’s Larch—Alpine Flowers—The Trail
among the Cliffs—The Beehive, a Monument of the Past—Lake Agnes, a
Lake of Solitude—Summit of the Beehive—Lake Louise in the Distant
Future_ 36-46
CHAPTER IV.
_Organizing a Party for the Mountains—Our Plans for the
Summer—William Twin and Tom Chiniquy—Nature, Habits, and Dress of
the Stoney Indians—An Excursion on the Glacier—The Surface Debris
and its Origin—Snow Line—Ascent of the Couloir—A Terrible
Accident—Getting Down—An Exhausting Return for Aid—Hasty
Organization of a Rescue Party—Cold and Miserable Wait on the
Glacier—Unpleasant Surmises—“I Think You Die”—A Fortunate
Termination_ 47-64
CHAPTER V.
_Castle Crags—Early Morning on the Mountain Side—View from the
Summit—Ascent of the Aiguille—An Avalanche of Rocks—A Glorious
Glissade—St. Piran—Its Alpine Flowers and Butterflies—Expedition
to an Unexplored Valley—A Thirsty Walk through the
Forest—Discovery of a Mountain Torrent—A Lake in the Forest—A
Mountain Amphitheatre—The Saddle—Impressive View of Mount
Temple—Summit of Great Mountain—An Ascent in Vain—A Sudden Storm
in the High Mountains—Phenomenal Fall of Temperature—Grand Cloud
Effects_ 65-83
CHAPTER VI.
_Paradise Valley—The Mitre Glacier—Air Castles—Climbing to the
Col—Dark Ice Caverns—Mountain Sickness—Grandeur of the
Rock-Precipices on Mount Lefroy—Summit of the Col at Last—A
Glorious Vision of a New and Beautiful Valley—A Temple of
Nature—Sudden Change of Weather—Temptation to Explore the New
Valley—A Precipitate Descent—Sudden Transition from Arctic to
Temperate Conditions—Delightful Surroundings—Weary
Followers—Overtaken by Night—A Bivouac in the Forest—Fire in the
Forest—Indian Sarcasm_ 84-100
CHAPTER VII.
_The Wild Character of Paradise Valley—Difficulties with
Pack-Horses—A Remarkable Accident—Our Camp and Surroundings—Animal
Friends—Midsummer Flowers—Desolation Valley—Ascent of Hazel
Peak—An Alpine Lake in a Basin of Ice—First Attempt to Scale Mount
Temple—Our Camp by a Small Lake—A Wild and Stormy Night—An
Impassable Barrier—A Scene of Utter Desolation—All Nature
Sleeps—Difficulties of Ascent—The Highest Point yet Reached in
Canada—Paradise Valley in Winter—Farewell to Lake Louise_ 101-118
CHAPTER VIII.
_The Selkirks—Geographical Position of the Range—Good Cheer of the
Glacier House—Charming Situation—Comparison between the Selkirks
and Rockies—Early Mountain Ascents—Density of the Forest—Ascent of
Eagle Peak—A Magnificent Panorama—A Descent in the
Darkness—Account of a Terrible Experience on Eagle Peak—Trails
through the Forest—Future Popularity of the Selkirks—The Forest
Primeval—An Epitome of Human Life—Age of Trees—Forests Dependent
on Humidity_ 119-136
CHAPTER IX.
_Mount Assiniboine—Preparations for Visiting it—Camp at Heely’s
Creek—Crossing the Simpson Pass—Shoot a Pack-Horse—A Delightful
Camp—A Difficult Snow Pass—Burnt Timber—Nature Sounds—Discovery of
a Beautiful Lake—Inspiring View of Mount Assiniboine—Our Camp at
the Base of the Mountain—Summer Snow-Storms—Inaccessibility of
Mount Assiniboine_ 137-157
CHAPTER X.
_Evidence of Game—Discovery of a Mountain
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[Transcriber's note: Both "Matilde" and "Matilda" appear in the source
text.]
TAQUISARA
BY
F. MARION CRAWFORD
1895
CHAPTER I.
"Where shall I sign my name?"
Veronica Serra's thin, dark fingers rolled the old silver penholder
nervously as she sat at one end of the long library table, looking up at
the short, stout man who stood beside her.
"Here, if you please, Excellency," answered Lamberto Squarci, with an
affable smile.
His fingers were dark, too, but not thin, and they were smooth and dingy
and very pointed, a fact which the young princess noticed with dislike,
as he indicated the spot on the broad sheet of rough, hand-made paper,
where he wished her to sign. A thrill of repulsion that was strong
enough to be painful ran through her, and she rolled the penholder still
more quickly and nervously, so that she almost dropped it, and a little
blot of ink fell upon the sheet before she had begun to write.
"Oh! It is of no importance!" said the Neapolitan notary, in a
reassuring tone. "A little ink more or less!"
He had some pink blotting-paper ready, and was already applying a corner
of it to the ink-spot, with the neat skill of a professional scribe.
"I will erase it when it is dry," he said. "You will not even see it.
Now, if your Excellency will sign--that will make the will valid."
Three other persons stood around Donna Veronica as she set the point of
her pen to the paper, and two
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[Illustration]
Bear Brownie
_The Life of a Bear_
_From Animal Autobiographies by H. P. Robinson_
REVISED BY
JANE FIELDING
NEW YORK
A. L. CHATTERTON CO.
Copyright, 1913
A. L. CHATTERTON CO.
BEAR BROWNIE
CHAPTER I.
HOW I TUMBLED DOWNHILL.
It is not easy for one to believe that he ever was a cub. Of course, I
know that I was, and as it was only nine years ago I ought to remember
it fairly clearly.
It is not so much a mere matter of size, although it is doubtful if any
young bear realizes how small he is. My father and mother seemed
enormous to me, but, on the other hand, my sister was smaller than I,
and perhaps the fact that I could always box her ears when I wanted to
gave me an exaggerated idea of my own importance. Not that I did it very
often, except when she used to bite my hind-toes. Every bear, of course,
likes to chew his own feet, for it is one of the most soothing and
comforting things in the world; but it is horrid to have anyone else
come up behind you when you are asleep, and begin to chew your feet for
you. And that was Kahwa--that was my sister, my name being Brownie--was
always doing, and I simply had to slap her well whenever she did.
But, as I said, cubhood is not a matter of size only. As I look down at
this glossy coat of mine, it is hard to believe that it was ever a dirty
yellow color, and all ridiculous wool and fluff, as young cubs' coats
are. But I must have been fluffy, because I remember how my mother,
after she had been licking me for any length of time, used to be obliged
to stop and wipe the fur out of her mouth with the back of her paw.
Every time my mother had to wipe her mouth she used to try to box my
ears, so that when she stopped licking me, I, knowing what was coming
next, would tuck my head down as far as it would go between my legs, and
keep it there till she began licking again.
Yes, when I stop to think, I know, from many things, that I must have
been just an ordinary cub. For instance, my very earliest recollection
is of tumbling downhill.
Like all bears, I was born and lived on the hillside. In the Rocky
Mountains, where my home was, there is nothing but hills, or mountains,
for miles and miles, so that you can wander on for day after day, always
going up one side of a hill and down the other, and up and down again;
and at the bottom of almost every valley there is a stream or river,
which for most of the year swirls along nosily and full of water.
In the winter the whole country is covered with snow many feet deep,
which, as it falls, slides off the hillsides, and is drifted by the
winds into the valleys and hollows till the smaller ones are filled up
nearly to the tops of the trees. But bears do not see much of that, for
when the first snow comes we get into our dens and go half asleep, and
stay hibernating till springtime. And you have no idea how delightful
hibernating is, nor how excruciatingly stiff we are when we wake up, and
how hungry!
The snow lies over everything for months, until in the early spring the
warm west winds begin to blow, melting the snow from one side of the
mountains. Then the sun grows hotter and hotter day by day, and helps to
melt it until most of the mountain <DW72>s are clear; but in sheltered
places and in the bottoms of the little hollows the snow stays in
patches till far into the summer. We bears comes out from our winter
sleep when the snow is not quite gone, when the whole earth everywhere
is still wet with it, and the streams, swollen with floods, are
bubbling and boiling along so that the air is filled with the noise of
them by night and day.
Our home was well up one of the hillsides, where two huge cedar-trees
shot up side by side close by a jutting mass of rock. In between the
roots of the trees and under the rock was as good a house as a family of
bears could want--roomy enough for all four of us, perfectly sheltered,
and hidden and dry. Can you imagine how warm and comfy it was when we
were all snuggled in there, with our arms round each other, and our
faces buried in each other's fur? Anyone looking in would have seen
nothing but a huge ball of brown fluff.
It was from just outside the door that I tumbled downhill.
It must have been early in the year, because the ground was still very
wet and soft, and the gully at the bottom full of snow. Of course, if I
had not been a cub I should never have fallen, for big bears do not
tumble downhill. If by any chance anything did start one, and he found
he could not stop himself, he would know enough to tuck in his head and
paws out of harm's way; but I only knew that somehow, in romping with
Kahwa, I had lost my balance, and was going--goodness knew where! I went
all spread out like a squirrel, first on my head, then on my back, then
on my tummy, clutching at everything that I passed, slapping the ground
with my outstretched paws, and squealing for help. Bump! bang! slap!
bump! I went, hitting trees and thumping all the wind out of me against
the earth, and at last--souse into the
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THE PAPERS AND WRITINGS OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN
VOLUME TWO
CONSTITUTIONAL EDITION
By Abraham Lincoln
Edited by Arthur Brooks Lapsley
VOLUME II., 1843-1858
1843
FIRST CHILD
TO JOSHUA F. SPEED. SPRINGFIELD, May 18, 1843.
DEAR SPEED:--Yours of the 9th instant is duly received, which I do
not meet as a "bore," but as a most welcome visitor. I will answer the
business part of it first.
In relation to our Congress matter here, you were right in supposing I
would support the nominee. Neither Baker nor I, however, is the man, but
Hardin, so far as I can judge from present appearances. We shall have no
split or trouble about the matter; all will be harmony. In relation to
the "coming events" about which Butler wrote you, I had not heard one word
before I got your letter; but I have so much confidence in the judgment of
Butler on such a subject that I incline to think there may be some reality
in it. What day does Butler appoint? By the way, how do "events" of the
same sort come on in your family? Are you possessing houses and lands, and
oxen and asses, and men-servants and maid-servants, and begetting sons
and daughters? We are not keeping house, but boarding at the Globe Tavern,
which is very well kept now by a widow lady of the name of Beck. Our room
(the same that Dr. Wallace occupied there) and boarding only costs us four
dollars a week. Ann Todd was married something more than a year since to
a fellow by the name of Campbell, and who, Mary says, is pretty much of
a "dunce," though he has a little money and property. They live in
Boonville, Missouri, and have not been heard from lately enough for me to
say anything about her health. I reckon it will scarcely be in our
power to visit Kentucky this year. Besides poverty and the necessity of
attending to business, those "coming events," I suspect, would be somewhat
in the way. I most heartily wish you and your Fanny would not fail to
come. Just let us know the time, and we will have a room provided for you
at our house, and all be merry together for a while. Be sure to give my
respects to your mother and family; assure her that if ever I come near
her, I will not fail to call and see her. Mary joins in sending love to
your Fanny and you.
Yours as ever,
A. LINCOLN.
1844
TO Gen. J. J. HARDIN.
SPRINGFIELD, May 21, 1844.
DEAR HARDIN: Knowing that you have correspondents enough, I have forborne
to trouble you heretofore; and I now only do so to get you to set a matter
right which has got wrong with one of our best friends. It is old Uncle
Thomas Campbell of Spring Creek--(Berlin P.O.). He has received several
documents from you, and he says they are old newspapers and documents,
having no sort of interest in them. He is, therefore, getting a strong
impression that you treat him with disrespect. This, I know, is a mistaken
impression; and you must correct it. The way, I leave to yourself. Rob't
W. Canfield says he would like to have a document or two from you.
The Locos (Democrats) here are in considerable trouble about Van Buren's
letter on Texas, and the Virginia electors. They are growing sick of the
Tariff question; and consequently are much confounded at V.B.'s cutting
them off from the new Texas question. Nearly half the leaders swear they
won't stand it. Of those are Ford, T. Campbell, Ewing, Calhoun and others.
They don't exactly say they won't vote for V.B., but they say he will not
be the candidate, and that they are for Texas anyhow.
As ever yours,
A. LINCOLN.
1845
SELECTION OF CONGRESSIONAL CANDIDATES
TO Gen. J. J. HARDIN, SPRINGFIELD, Jany. 19, 1845.
DEAR GENERAL:
I do not wish to join in your proposal of a new plan for the selection of
a Whig candidate for Congress because:
1st. I am entirely satisfied with the old system under which you and Baker
were successively nominated and elected to Congress; and because the Whigs
of the district are well acquainted with the system, and, so far as I know
or believe, are well satisfied with it. If the old system be thought to be
vague, as to all the delegates of the county voting the same way, or as
to instructions to them as to whom they are to vote for, or as to filling
vacancies, I am willing to join in a provision to make these matters
certain.
2d. As to your proposals that a poll shall be opened in every precinct,
and that the whole shall take place on the same day, I do not personally
object. They seem to me to be not unfair; and I forbear to join in
proposing them only because I choose to leave the decision in each
county to the Whigs of the county, to be made as their own judgment and
convenience may dictate.
3d. As to your proposed stipulation that all the candidates shall remain
in their own counties, and restrain their friends in the same it seems
to me that on reflection you will see the fact of your having been in
Congress has, in various ways, so spread your name in the district as
to give you a decided advantage in such a stipulation. I appreciate your
desire to keep down excitement; and I promise you to "keep cool" under all
circumstances.
4th. I have already said I am satisfied with the old system under which
such good men have triumphed and that I desire no departure from its
principles. But if there must be a departure from it, I shall insist upon
a more accurate and just apportionment of delegates, or representative
votes, to the constituent body, than exists by the old, and which you
propose to retain in your new plan. If we take the entire population of
the counties as shown by the late census, we shall see by the old plan,
and by your proposed new plan,
Morgan County, with a population 16,541, has but....... 8 votes
While Sangamon with 18,697--2156 greater has but....... 8 "
So Scott with 6553 has................................. 4 "
While Tazewell with 7615 1062 greater has but.......... 4 "
So Mason with 3135 has................................. 1 vote
While Logan with 3907, 772 greater, has but............ 1 "
And so on in a less degree the matter runs through all the counties, being
not only wrong in principle, but the advantage of it being all manifestly
in your favor with one slight exception, in the comparison of two counties
not here mentioned.
Again, if we take the Whig votes of the counties as shown by the late
Presidential election as a basis, the thing is still worse.
It seems to me most obvious that the old system needs adjustment in
nothing so much as in this; and still, by your proposal, no notice is
taken of it. I have always been in the habit of acceding to almost any
proposal that a friend would make and I am truly sorry that I cannot in
this. I perhaps ought to mention that some friends at different places are
endeavoring to secure the honor of the sitting of the convention at their
towns respectively, and I fear that they would not feel much complimented
if we shall make a bargain that it should sit nowhere.
Yours as ever,
A. LINCOLN.
TO ------ WILLIAMS,
SPRINGFIELD, March 1, 1845.
FRIEND WILLIAMS:
The Supreme Court adjourned this morning for the term. Your cases of
Reinhardt vs. Schuyler, Bunce vs. Schuyler, Dickhut vs. Dunell, and
Sullivan vs. Andrews are continued. Hinman vs. Pope I wrote you concerning
some time ago. McNutt et al. vs. Bean and Thompson is reversed and
remanded.
Fitzpatrick vs. Brady et al. is reversed and remanded with leave to
complainant to amend his bill so as to show the real consideration given
for the land.
Bunce against Graves the court confirmed, wherefore, in accordance with
your directions, I moved to have the case remanded to enable you to take a
new trial in the court below. The court allowed the motion; of which I am
glad, and I guess you are.
This, I believe, is all as to court business. The canal men have got their
measure through the Legislature pretty much or quite in the shape they
desired. Nothing else now.
Yours as ever,
A. LINCOLN.
ABOLITION MOVEMENT
TO WILLIAMSON DURLEY.
SPRINGFIELD, October 3, 1845
When I saw you at home, it was agreed that I should write to you and your
brother Madison. Until I then saw you I was not aware of your being what
is generally called an abolitionist, or, as you call yourself, a Liberty
man, though I well knew there were many such in your country.
I was glad to hear that you intended to attempt to bring about, at the
next election in Putnam, a Union of the Whigs proper and such of the
Liberty men as are Whigs in principle on all questions save only that of
slavery. So far as I can perceive, by such union neither party need
yield anything on the point in difference between them. If the Whig
abolitionists of New York had voted with us last fall, Mr. Clay would now
be President, Whig principles in the ascendant, and Texas not annexed;
whereas, by the division, all that either had at stake in the contest was
lost. And, indeed, it was extremely probable, beforehand, that such would
be the result. As I always understood, the Liberty men deprecated the
annexation of Texas extremely; and this being so, why they should refuse
to cast their votes [so] as to prevent it, even to me seemed wonderful.
What was their process of reasoning, I can only judge from what a single
one of them told me. It was this: "We are not to do evil that good may
come." This general proposition is doubtless correct; but did it apply?
If by your votes you could have prevented the extension, etc., of slavery
would it not have been good, and not evil, so to have used your votes,
even though it involved the casting of them for a slaveholder? By the
fruit the tree is to be known. An evil tree cannot bring forth good fruit.
If the fruit of electing Mr. Clay would have been to prevent the extension
of slavery, could the act of electing have been evil?
But I will not argue further. I perhaps ought to say that individually I
never was much interested in the Texas question. I never could see
much good to come of annexation, inasmuch as they were already a free
republican people on our own model. On the other hand, I never could
very clearly see how the annexation would augment the evil of slavery.
It always seemed to me that slaves would be taken there in about equal
numbers, with or without annexation. And if more were taken because of
annexation, still there would be just so many the fewer left where
they were taken from. It is possibly true, to some extent, that, with
annexation, some slaves may be sent to Texas and continued in slavery that
otherwise might have been liberated. To whatever extent this may be true,
I think annexation an evil. I hold it to be a paramount duty of us in the
free States, due to the Union of the States, and perhaps to liberty itself
(paradox though it may seem), to let the slavery of the other States
alone; while, on the other hand, I hold it to be equally clear that we
should never knowingly lend ourselves, directly or indirectly, to prevent
that slavery from dying a natural death--to find new places for it to
live in when it can no longer exist in the old. Of course I
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THE FANTOMAS DETECTIVE NOVELS
A ROYAL PRISONER
BY
PIERRE SOUVESTRE
AND
MARCEL ALLAIN
NEW YORK
BRENTANO'S
1918
COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY BRENTANO'S
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A ROYAL JAG 3
II. MOTHER CITRON'S TENANTS 12
III. THE TRAGEDY OF THE RUE DE MONCEAU 21
IV. WHO DO THEY THINK I AM? 33
V. BY THE SINGING FOUNTAINS 42
VI. THE INVESTIGATION BEGINS 49
VII. THE KING RECEIVES 63
VIII. MARIE PASCAL 69
IX. A PARTY OF THREE 76
X. WULFENMIMENGLASCHK 86
XI. ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN STATIONS 98
XII. CAMOUFLAGE 110
XIII. THE KINGDOM OF HESSE-WEIMAR 118
XIV. QUEEN HEDWIGE RECEIVES 127
XV. THE MYSTERIOUS PRISON 137
XVI. THE THEFT OF THE DIAMOND 146
XVII. ON THE RIGHT TRAIL 155
XVIII. A SLEEPER 165
XIX. FREE!
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THE LONG LABRADOR TRAIL
by
DILLON WALLACE
Author of "The Lure of the Labrador Wild," etc.
Illustrated
MCMXVII
TO THE
MEMORY OF MY WIFE
"A drear and desolate shore!
Where no tree unfolds its leaves,
And never the spring wind weaves
Green grass for the hunter's tread;
A land forsaken and dead,
Where the ghostly icebergs go
And come with the ebb and flow..."
Whittier's "The Rock-tomb of Bradore."
PREFACE
In the summer of 1903 when Leonidas Hubbard, Jr., went to Labrador to
explore a section of the unknown interior it was my privilege to
accompany him as his companion and friend. The world has heard of the
disastrous ending of our little expedition, and how Hubbard, fighting
bravely and heroically to the last, finally succumbed to starvation.
Before his death I gave him my promise that should I survive I would
write and publish the story of the journey. In "The Lure of The
Labrador Wild" that pledge was kept to the best of my ability.
While Hubbard and I were struggling inland over those desolate wastes,
where life was always uncertain, we entered into a compact that in case
one of us fall the other would carry to completion the exploratory work
that he had planned and begun. Providence willed that it should become
my duty to fulfil this compact, and the following pages are a record of
how it was done.
Not I, but Hubbard, planned the journey of which this book tells, and
from him I received the inspiration and with him the training and
experience that enabled me to succeed. It was his spirit that led me
on over the wearisome trails, and through
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Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
RADA
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
TALES OF THE MERMAID TAVERN
DRAKE
THE FOREST OF WILD THYME
FORTY SINGING SEAMEN
THE ENCHANTED ISLAND
THE WINE PRESS
[Illustration: THE BAYONETS]
RADA
A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE
BY
ALFRED NOYES
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS AFTER GOYA
METHUEN & CO. LTD.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
_First Published in 1915_
DEDICATION
Thou whose deep ways are in the sea,
Whose footsteps are not known,
To-night a world that turned from Thee
Is waiting--at Thy Throne.
The towering Babels that we raised
Where scoffing sophists brawl,
The little Antichrists we praised--
The night is on them all.
The fool hath said... The fool hath said...
And we, who deemed him wise,
We, who believed that Thou wast dead,
How should we seek Thine eyes?
How should we seek to Thee for power,
Who scorned Thee yesterday?
How should we kneel in this dread hour?
Lord, teach us how to pray.
Grant us the single heart once more
That mocks no sacred thing,
The Sword of Truth our fathers wore
When Thou wast Lord and King.
Let darkness unto darkness tell
Our deep unspoken prayer;
For, while our souls in darkness dwell,
We know that Thou art there.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE BAYONETS _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
OVER THE JAWS OF THE CROWD 16
THE OLD DANCE OF CHARLATANS AND BEASTS 22
THE VAMPIRE 56
_Reproduced from etchings by Goya_
PRELUDE
Under which banner? It was night
Beyond all nights that ever were.
The Cross was broken. Blood-stained Might
Moved like a tiger from its lair,
And all that heaven had died to quell
Awoke, and mingled earth with hell.
For Europe, if it held a creed,
Held it thro' custom, not thro' faith.
Chaos returned in dream and deed,
Right was a legend--Love, a wraith;
And That from which the world began
Was less than even the best in man.
God in the image of a snake
Dethroned that dream, too fond, too blind,
The man-shaped God whose heart could break,
Live, die and triumph with mankind;
A Super-snake, a Juggernaut,
Dethroned the Highest of human thought.
Choose, England! For the eternal foe
Within thee, as without, grew strong,
By many a super-subtle blow
Blurring the lines of right and wrong
In Art and Thought, till nought seemed true
But that soul-slaughtering cry of _New!_
New wreckage of the shrines we made
Thro' centuries of forgotten tears....
We knew not where their hands had laid
Our Master. Twice a thousand years
Had dulled the uncapricious sun.
Manifold worlds obscured the One;
Obscured the reign of Law, our stay,
Our compass thro' the uncharted sea,
The one sure light, the one sure way,
The one firm base of Liberty;
The one firm road that men have trod
Thro' Chaos to the Throne of God.
_Choose ye!_ A hundred legions cried
Dishonour, or the instant sword!
Ye chose. Ye met that blood-stained tide,
A little kingdom kept its word;
And, dying, cried across the night,
_Hear us, O earth, we chose the Right._
Whose is the victory? Though ye stood
Alone against the unmeasured foe,
By all the tears, by all the blood,
That flowed, and have not ceased to flow,
By all the legions that ye hurled
Back thro' the thunder-shaken world;
By the old that have not where to rest,
By lands laid waste and hearths defiled,
By every lacerated breast,
And every mutilated child,
Whose is the victory? Answer, ye
Who, dying, smiled at tyranny:--
_Under the sky's triumphal arch
The glories of the dawn begin.
Our dead, our shadowy armies, march
E'en now, in silence, thro' Berlin--
Dumb shadows, tattered blood-stained ghosts,
But cast by what swift following hosts!_
And answer, England! _At thy side,
Thro' seas of blood, thro' mists of tears,
Thou that for Liberty hast died
And livest, to the end of years._
And answer, earth! Far off, I hear
The paeans of a happier sphere:--
_The trumpet blown at Marathon
Exulted over earth and sea;
But burning angel lips have blown
The trumpets of thy Liberty,
For who, beside thy dead, could deem
The faith, for which they died, a dream?_
_Earth has not been the same, since then.
Europe from thee received a soul,
Whence nations moved in law, like men,
As members of a mightier whole,
Till wars were ended...._ In that day,
So shall our children's children say.
CHARACTERS
RADA, wife of the village doctor.
BETTINE, her daughter, aged twelve.
BRANDER { German soldiers quartered in her house
TARRASCH { during the occupation of the village.
NANKO, an old, half-witted schoolmaster, living in the care of the
doctor. He has a delusion that it is always Christmas Eve.
German soldiers.
RADA
A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE
_The action takes place in a Belgian village, during the War of 1914.
The scene is a room in the doctor's house. On the right there is
a door opening to the street, a window with red curtains, and a
desk under the window. On the left there is a large cupboard with a
door on either side of it, one leading to a bedroom and the other
to the kitchen. At the back an open fire is burning brightly. Over
the fireplace there is a reproduction in colours of the Dresden
Madonna. The room is lit only by the firelight and two candles in
brass candlesticks, on a black oak table, at which the two soldiers
are seated, playing cards and drinking beer._
_RADA, a dark handsome woman, sits on a couch to the left of the fire,
with her head bowed in her hands, weeping._
_NANKO sits cross-legged on a rug before the fire, rubbing his hands,
snapping his fingers, and chuckling to himself._
TARRASCH (_throwing down the cards_).
Pish! You have all the luck. (_He turns to RADA_) Look here, my
girl, where is the use of snivelling? We've been killing pigs all
day and now we want to unbuckle a bit. You ought to think yourself
infernally lucky to be alive at all, and I'm not sure that you will be
so fortunate when the other boys come back. Wheedled them out of the
house finely, didn't you? On a fine wildgoose chase, too. Hidden money!
Refugees don't bury their money and leave the secret behind them.
You've been whimpering ever since we two refused to believe you. What's
your game, eh? I warn you there'll be hell to pay when they come back.
RADA (_sobbing and burying her face_).
God, be pitiful!
TARRASCH.
This is war, this is! And you can't expect war to be all swans and
shining armour. No--nor smart uniforms either. Look at the mud my
friend and I have already annexed from Belgium. Brander, you know it's
a most astonishing fact; but I have remarked it several times. Those
women whose eyes glitter at the sight of a spiked helmet are the first
to be astonished by the realities of war. They expect the dead to jump
up and kiss them and tell them it is all a game, as soon as the battle
is ended. No, no, my dear; it's only in war that one sees how small is
one's personal happiness in comparison with greater things. Isn't it?
(_He fills a glass and drinks. BRANDER lights a cigar._)
NANKO.
Exactly. In times of peace we forget those eternal silences. We value
life too highly. We become domesticated. Why, I suppose in this
magnificent war there have been so many women and children killed
that they would fill the great Cloth Hall at Ypres; and, as for the
young men, there have been so many slaughtered that their dead bodies
would fill St. Peter's at Rome. Why, I suppose they would fill the
three hundred abbeys of Flanders and all the cathedrals in the world
chock-full from floor to belfry, wouldn't they? How Goya would have
loved to paint them! Can't you see it?
(_He grows ecstatic over the idea._)
Tournai with its five clock-towers, Ghent, and Bruges,
Louvain and Antwerp, Rheims and Westminster,
Under the round white moon, on Christmas Eve,
With towers of frozen needlework, and spires
That point to God; but all their painted panes
Bursting with dreadful arms and gaping faces,
Gargoyles of flesh; and round them, in the snow,
The little cardinals, like gouts of blood,
The little bishops, running like white mice,
Hooded with violet spots, quite, quite dismayed
To find there was no room for them within
Upon that holy night when Christ was born.
But perhaps if Goya were living to-day he would prefer to pack them
into Chicago meat factories, with the intellectuals dancing outside
like marionettes, and the unconscious Hand of God pulling the strings.
You know one of their very latest theories is that He is a somnambulist.
TARRASCH (_to RADA_).
You should read Schopenhauer, my dear, and learn to estimate these
emotions at their true value. You would then be able to laugh at these
feelings which seem to you now so important. It is the mark of _Kultur_
to be able to laugh at all sentiments. Isn't it?
NANKO.
The priests, I suppose, are still balancing themselves on the
tight-rope, over the jaws of the crowd. The poor old Pope did his best
for his Master, when the Emperor asked him for a blessing on the war.
"_I_ bless Peace," said the Pope; but nobody listened. I composed a
little poem about that. I called it St. Peter's Christmas. It went like
this:--
And does the Cross of Christ still stand?
Yes, though His friends may watch from far--
And who is this at His right hand,
This Rock in the red surf of war?
This, this is he who once denied,
And turned and wept and turned again.
Last night before an Emperor's pride
He stood and blotted out that stain.
Last night an Emperor bared the sword
And bade him bless. He stood alone.
Alone in all the world, _his_ word
Confessed--and blessed--a loftier throne.
I hear, still travelling towards the Light,
In widening waves till Time shall cease,
The Power that breathed from Rome last night
His infinite whisper--_I bless Peace._
(_TARRASCH and BRANDER applaud ironically._)
[Illustration: OVER THE JAWS OF THE CROWD]
TARRASCH.
Excellent! Excellent! (_To RADA_) You should have seen our brave
soldiers laughing--do you remember, Brander--at a little village near
Termonde. They made the old vicar and his cook dance naked round the
dead body of his wife, who had connived at the escape of her daughter
from a Prussian officer.
NANKO.
Ah, that was reality, wasn't it? None of your provincial respectability
about that, none of your shallow conventionality! That's what the age
wants--realism!
TARRASCH.
It was brutal, I confess; but better than British hypocrisy, eh? There
was something great about it, like the neighing of the satyrs in the
Venusberg music.
RADA (_sinking on her knees by the couch and sobbing_).
God! God!
TARRASCH.
They were beginning to find out the provincialism of their creeds in
England. The pessimism of Schopenhauer had taught them much; and if it
had not been for this last treachery, this last ridiculous outburst of
the middle-class mind on behalf of what they call honour, we should
have continued to tolerate (if not to enjoy), in Berlin, those plays by
Irishmen which expose so wittily the inferior _Kultur_, the shrinking
from reality, of their (for the most part) not intellectual people. I
have the honour, madam, to request that you should no longer make this
unpleasant sound of weeping. You irritate my nerves. Have you not two
men quartered upon you instead of one? And are they not university
students? If your husband and the rest of the villagers had not
resisted our advance, they might have been alive, too. In any case,
your change is for the better. Isn't it?
(_He lights a cigar._)
NANKO.
Exactly! Exactly! You remember, Rada, I used to be a schoolmaster
myself in the old days; and if _you_ knew what _I_ know, you wouldn't
cry, my dear. You'd understand that it's entirely a question of the
survival of the fittest. A biological necessity, that's what it is. And
Haeckel himself has told us that, though we may resign our hopes of
immortality, and the grave is the only future for our beloved ones, yet
there is infinite consolation to be found in examining a piece of moss
or looking at a beetle. That's what the Germans call the male intellect.
TARRASCH.
Is this man attempting to be insolent?
(_He rises as if to strike_ NANKO.)
BRANDER (_tapping his forehead_).
Take no notice of him. He's only a resident patient. He was not calling
you a beetle. He has delusions. He thinks it is always Christmas Eve.
That's his little tree in the corner. As Goethe should have said--
There was a little Christian.
He had a little tree.
Up came a Superman
And cracked him, like a flea.
TARRASCH (_laughing_).
Very good! You should send that to the _Tageblatt_, Brander.
Well, Rada, or whatever your name is, you'd better find something for
us to eat. I'm sick of this whimpering.
Wouldn't your Belgian swine have massacred us all, if we'd given them
the chance? We've thousands of women and children at home snivelling
and saying, "Oh! my God! Oh! my God!" just like you.
RADA (_rising to her feet in a fury of contempt_).
Then why are you in Belgium, gentlemen?
Is it the husks and chaff that the swine eat,
Or is it simply butchery?
(_They stare at her in silence, over-mastered for a moment by her
passion. Then, her grief welling up again, she casts herself down on
the couch, and buries her face in her hands, sobbing._)
God! God! God!
[Illustration: THE OLD DANCE OF CHARLATANS AND BEASTS]
BRANDER.
Don't you trouble about God. What can _He_ do when both sides go down
on their marrow-bones? He can't make both sides win, can He?
NANKO.
That's how the intellectuals prove He doesn't exist. Either He is not
almighty, they say, or else He is unjust enough not to make both sides
win. But all those anthropomorphic conceptions are out of date now,
even in England, as this gentleman very truly said. You see, it was so
degrading, Rada, to think that God had anything in common with mankind
(though love was once quite fashionable), and as we didn't know of
anything higher than ourselves we were simply compelled to say that
He resembled something lower, such as earthquakes, and tigers, and
puppet-shows, and ideas of that sort. Reality above all things! You
may see God in sunsets; but there was nothing _real_ about the _best_
qualities of mankind. It's curious. The more intellectual and original
you are, the lower you have to go, and the more likely you are to end
in the old dance of charlatans and beasts. I suppose that's an argument
for tradition and growth. If we call it Evolution, nobody will mind
very much.
RADA (_wringing her hands in an agony of grief_).
Oh, God, be pitiful, be pitiful!
BRANDER (_standing in front of her_).
Look here, we've had enough of this music. I've been watching you, and
there's more upon your mind than sorrow for the dead. Why were you so
anxious to wheedle us all out of the house? Tarrasch has warned you
there'll be hell to pay when the others come back. What was the game,
eh? You'd better tell me. You couldn't have thought you were going to
escape through our lines to-night.
(_There is a sudden uproar outside, and a woman's scream, followed by
the terrified cry of a child._)
Ah! Ah! Father!
BRANDER.
Hear that. The men are mad with brandy and blood and--other things.
There's no holding them in, even from the children. You needn't wince.
Even from the children, I say. What chance would there be for a
fine-looking wench like yourself?
No, you were not going to try that. You've something to hide, here, in
the house, eh? Well, now you've got rid of the others, and we've had a
drink, we're going to look for it. What is there?
(_He points to the bedroom door._)
RADA (_rising to her feet slowly, steadying herself with one hand on
the couch and fixing her eyes on his face_).
My bedroom. No. I've nothing here to hide. This is war, isn't it? If I
choose to revenge myself on those that have used me badly, people that
I hate, by telling you where you can find what everybody wants, money,
money--I suppose you want that--isn't that good enough?
BRANDER.
Better come with us, then, and show us this treasure-trove.
RADA (_shrinking back_).
No, no, I dare not. All those dead out there would terrify me, terrify
me!
TARRASCH.
A pack of lies! What were you up to, eh? Telephoning to the English?
BRANDER.
It has been too much for her nerves. Don't worry her, or she'll go
mad. Then there'll be nobody left to get us our supper.
(_TARRASCH wanders round the room, opening drawers and examining
letters and other contents at the desk._)
NANKO.
That _would_ be selfish, Rada. You know it's Christmas Eve. Nobody
ought to think of unpleasant things on Christmas Eve. What have you
done with the Christmas-tree, Rada?
BRANDER.
And who's to blame? That's what I want to know. You don't blame _us_,
do you? We didn't know where we were marching a month ago; and
possibly we shall be fighting on your side against somebody else, a
year hence.
NANKO.
Of course they didn't know! Poor soldiers don't.
TARRASCH (_who has been trying the bedroom door_).
In the meantime, what have you got behind that door? Give me the key.
RADA (_hurriedly, and as if misunderstanding him, opens the cupboard.
She speaks excitedly_).
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IN TAUNTON TOWN.
HISTORICAL TALES
BY
E. Everett-Green.
_In handsome crown 8vo volumes, cloth extra, gilt tops. Price 5s. each._
IN TAUNTON TOWN. A Story of the Days of the Rebellion of James, Duke of
Monmouth, in 1685.
SHUT IN. A Tale of the Wonderful Siege of Antwerp in the Year 1585.
THE LOST TREASURE OF TREVLYN. A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot.
IN THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY. A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince.
LOYAL HEARTS AND TRUE. A Story of the Days of Queen Elizabeth.
The Church and the King. A Tale of England in the Days of Henry VIII.
_In post 8vo volumes, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d. each._
EVIL MAY-DAY. A Story of 1517.
IN THE WARS OF THE ROSES.
THE LORD OF DYNEVOR. A Tale of the Times of Edward the First.
THE SECRET CHAMBER AT CHAD.
_Published by_
T. NELSON AND SONS, London, Edinburgh, and New York
IN TAUNTON
TOWN
[Illustration: _JAMES, DUKE OF MONMOUTH._]
T. NELSON & SONS
_LONDON, EDINBURGH & NEW YORK_
_In Taunton Town_
_A Story of the
Rebellion of James Duke of Monmouth
in 1685_
_By_
_E. EVERETT-GREEN_
_Author of_ "_In the Days of Chivalry_," "_The Church and the King_,"
"_The Lord of Dynevor_," "_Shut In_"
_&c. &c._
[Illustration]
_T. NELSON AND SONS_
_London, Edinburgh, and New York_
_1896_
CONTENTS.
I. THE SNOWE FAMILY, 9
II. MY CAREER IS SETTLED, 25
III. MY NEW HOME, 42
IV. MY NEW LIFE, 59
V. I GET AMONGST FINE FOLK, 79
VI. VISCOUNT VERE, 95
VII. A WINTER OF PLOTS, 112
VIII. "LE ROI EST MORT," 129
IX. THE MUTTERING OF THE STORM, 146
X. MY RIDE TO LYME, 163
XI. OUR DELIVERER, 180
XII. BACK TO TAUNTON, 197
XIII. THE REVOLT OF TAUNTON, 214
XIV. A GLORIOUS DAY, 230
XV. THE MAIDS OF TAUNTON, 250
XVI. "THE TAUNTON KING," 264
XVII. ON THE WAR-PATH, 281
XVIII. IN PERIL IN A STRANGE CITY, 297
XIX. A BAPTISM OF BLOOD, 314
XX. IN SUSPENSE, 331
XXI
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THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
VOL. II.--NOVEMBER, 1858.--NO. XIII.
RAILWAY-ENGINEERING IN THE UNITED STATES.[1]
Though our country can boast of no Watt, Brindley, Smeaton, Rennie,
Telford, Brunel, Stephenson, or Fairbairn, and lacks such
experimenters as Tredgold, Barlow, Hodgkinson, and Clark, yet we
have our Evans and Fulton, our Whistler, Latrobe, Roebling, Haupt,
Ellet, Adams, and Morris,--engineers who yield to none in
professional skill, and whose work will bear comparison with the
best of that of Great Britain or the Continent; and if America does
not show a Thames Tunnel, a Conway or Menai Tubular Bridge, or a
monster steamer, yet she has a railroad-bridge of eight hundred feet
clear span, hung two hundred and fifty feet above one of the wildest
rivers in the world,--locomotive engines climbing the Alleghanies at
an ascent of five hundred feet per mile,--and twenty-five thousand
miles of railroad, employing upwards of five thousand locomotives
and eighty thousand cars, costing over a thousand millions of dollars,
and transporting annually one hundred and thirty millions of
passengers and thirty million tons of freight,--and all this in a
manner peculiarly adapted to our country, both financially and
mechanically.
In England the amount of money bears a high proportion to the amount
of territory; in America the reverse is the case; and the engineers
of the two countries quickly recognized the fact: for we find our
railroads costing from thirty thousand to forty thousand dollars per
mile,--while in England, to surmount much easier natural obstacles,
the cost varies from seventy-five to one hundred thousand dollars
per mile.
The cost of railroad transport will probably never be so low as
carriage by water,--that is, natural water-communication; because
the river or ocean is given to man complete and ready for use,
needing no repairs, and with no interest to pay upon construction
capital. Indeed, it is just beginning to be seen all over the
country that the public have both expected and received too much
accommodation from the companies. Men are perfectly willing to pay
five dollars for riding a hundred miles in a stage-coach; but give
them a nicely warmed, ventilated, cushioned, and furnished car, and
carry them four or five times faster, with double the comfort, and
they expect to pay only half-price,--as a friend of the writer once
remarked, "Why, of course we ought not to pay so much when we a'n't
half so long going,"--as if, when they paid their fare, they not
only bargained for transport from one place to another, but for the
luxury of sitting in a crowded coach a certain number of hours. It
would be hard to show a satisfactory basis for such an establishment
of tolls. We need not wonder at the unprofitableness of many of our
roads when we consider that the relative cost of transport is,--
By Stage, one cent,
By Railroad, two and seven-twelfths;
and the relative charge,--
By Stage, five cents,
By Railroad, three cents;
and the comparative profit, as five less one to three less two and
seven-twelfths, or as _four_ to _five-twelfths_, or as _nine and
six-tenths to one_.
America has, it is true, a grander system of natural
water-communication than any other land except Brazil; but, for all
that, there is really but a small part of the area, either of the
Alleghany coal and iron fields, or of the granaries of the
Mississippi valley, reached even by our matchless rivers. A certain
strip or band of country, bordering the water-courses, is served by
them both as regards export and import; just as much is served
wherever we build a railroad. In fact, whenever we lay a road across
a State, whether it connects the West directly with the East, or
only with some central commercial point in the West, just so often
do we open to market a band of country as long as the road, and
thirty, forty, or fifty miles wide,--the width depending very much
upon the cost of transport over such road; and as the charge is much
less upon a railroad than upon a common road, the distance from the
road from which produce may be brought is much greater with the
former than with the latter. The actual determination of the width
of the band is a simple problem, when the commercial nature of the
country is known.
The people of the great valley have not been
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[Illustration: _Photo, W. Shawncross, Guildford_.]
[_Frontispiece_. J. ARTHUR GIBBS.]
A COTSWOLD VILLAGE
OR COUNTRY LIFE AND PURSUITS IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE
BY J. ARTHUR GIBBS
"Go, little booke; God send thee good passage,
And specially let this be thy prayere
Unto them all that thee will read or hear,
Where thou art wrong after their help to call,
Thee to correct in any part or all."
GEOFFREY CHAUCER.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
1918
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION
Before the third edition of this work had been published the author
passed away, from sudden failure of the heart, at the early age of
thirty-one. Two or three biographical notices, written by those who
highly appreciated him and who deeply mourn his loss, have already
appeared in the newspapers; and I therefore wish to add only a few words
about one whose kind smile of welcome will greet us no more in
this life.
Joseph Arthur Gibbs was one of those rare natures who combine a love of
outdoor life, cricket and sport of every kind, with a refined and
scholarly taste for literature. He had, like his father, a keen
observation for every detail in nature; and from a habit of patient
watchfulness he acquired great knowledge of natural history. From his
grandfather, the late Sir Arthur Hallam Elton, he inherited his taste
for literary work and the deep poetical feeling which are revealed so
clearly in his book. On leaving Eton, he wrote a _Vale_, of which his
tutor, Mr. Luxmoore, expressed his high appreciation; and later on,
when, after leaving Oxford, he was living a quiet country life, he
devoted himself to literary pursuits.
He was not, however, so engrossed in his work as to ignore other duties;
and he was especially interested in the villagers round his home, and
ever ready to give what is of greater value than money, personal trouble
and time in finding out their wants and in relieving them. His unvarying
kindness and sympathy will never be forgotten at Ablington; for, as one
of the villagers wrote in a letter of condolence on hearing of his
death, "he went in and out as a friend among them." With all his
tenderness of heart, he had a strict sense of justice and a clear
judgment, and weighed carefully both sides of any question before he
gave his verdict.
Arthur Gibbs went abroad at the end of March 1899 for a month's trip to
Italy, and in his Journal he wrote many good descriptions of scenery and
of the old towns; and the way in which he describes his last glimpse of
Florence during a glorious sunset shows how greatly he appreciated its
beauty. In his Journal in April he dwells on the shortness of life, and
in the following solemn words he sounds a warning note:--
"Do not neglect the creeping hours of time: 'the night cometh when no
man can work.' All time is wasted unless spent in work for God. The best
secular way of spending the precious thing that men call time is by
making always for some grand end--a great book, to show forth the
wonders of creation and the infinite goodness of the Creator. You must
influence for _good_ if you write, and write nothing that you will
regret some day or think trivial."
These words, written a month before the end came, tell their own tale.
The writer of them had a deep love for all things that are "lovely,
pure, and of good report"; and in his book one sees clearly the
adoration he felt for that God whom he so faithfully served. There are
many different kinds of work in this world, and diversities of gifts; to
him was given the spirit to discern the work of God in Nature's glory,
and the power to win others to see it also. He had a remarkable
influence for good at Oxford, and the letters from his numerous friends
and from his former tutor at Christ Church show that this influence has
never been forgotten, but has left its mark not only on his college, but
on the university.
Like his namesake and relative, Arthur Hallam, of immortal memory,
Arthur Gibbs had attained to a purity of soul and a wisdom which were
not of this world, at an earlier age than is given to many men; and so
in love and faith and hope--
"I would the great world grew like thee,
Who grewest not alone in power
And knowledge; but by year and hour
In reverence and charity."
LAURA BEATRICE GIBBS.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
To those of my readers who have ever lived beside a stream, or in an
ancient house or time-honoured college, there will always be a peculiar
charm in silvery waters sparkling beneath the summer sun. To you the
Gothic building, with its carved pinnacles, its warped gables, its
mullioned casements and dormer windows, the old oak within, the very
inglenook by the great fireplace where the old folks used to sit at
home, the ivy trailing round the grey walls, the jessamine, roses, and
clematis that in their proper seasons clustered
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(https://archive.org/details/americana)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
FRESH FIELDS
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
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| John Burroughs's Books. |
| |
| FRESH FIELDS. 16mo, gilt top, $1.25. |
| |
| BIRDS AND POETS, WITH OTHER PAPERS. 16mo, gilt top, $1.25. |
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| |
| PEPACTON, AND OTHER SKETCHES. 16mo, gilt top, $1.25. |
| |
| WAKE ROBIN. Illustrated. Revised and enlarged edition. 16mo, |
| gilt top, $1.25; _Riverside Aldine Edition_, 16mo, $1.00 |
| |
| WINTER SUNSHINE. New edition, revised and enlarged. With |
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THE
ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY
AT THE
WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXHIBITION,
CHICAGO, 1893
++ PLEASE NOTE MAP.
THE
ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY
AT THE
WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXHIBITION,
CHICAGO, 1893.
GEOGRAPHY, RURAL INDUSTRIES, COMMERCE, GENERAL STATISTICS.
BY
CARLOS MARIA DE PENA
AND
HONORE ROUSTAN, Director of the General Statistics Office
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY J. J. RETHORE.
MONTEVIDEO.
1893
NOTICE.
MONTEVIDEO, December 31st, 1892.
_To the Hon. President of "Chicago Exhibition" Executive Committee:_
On delivering the Spanish text of these notes and statistical
inquiries, the compiling of which we have taken under our care as
a patriotic duty, it is convenient to observe that, if the present
work principally contains facts and particulars only relative to the
year 1891, it is because complete general statistics covering the
year 1892 are not yet to be had, as the "Board of Statistics" do not
publish the "Annual" till the second quarter of the year 1893, and
also because it has been considered better to conserve a certain
general unity in the compiling of facts and particulars. If, in a few
special cases, any particulars of the year 1892 have been quoted, it
was merely with the purpose of supplying to some deficiency.
The time which the Commission has had to dispose has been very short
for a work of this kind; the particulars that existed at the "Board
of Statistics" had to be used, and it was impossible to get any new
ones, at least as completely and as quickly as it was required; and
that if, notwithstanding so many difficulties, it has been possible
to deliver the present work in due time, it is because the Director
of the "Board of General Statistics" had already compiled nearly all
of it, so that the only thing to be done has been to introduce a few
short amplifications, sometimes to change the order, and some others
to make a few important corrections.
The only thing we are sorry for, is not to have received all the
particulars and information we had asked for, so as to give to the
present work a greater novelty and a more seducing form--that, with a
greater number of facts and particulars, might reveal what is, what
can be, and what is to be, one day or other the Oriental Republic,
with all its economical and social elements, and with all the new
elements that will be created, owing to the benefits of peace and
owing to the work and energy of the inhabitants, under the protecting
shield of a severe and provident Administration.
Having concluded this work which was committed to our care, and
thinking that the translator, Mr. J. J. RETHORE, will finish his in
the first fortnight of the next year, we have the honor of saluting
the Honorable President with all our greatest consideration and
esteem.
HONORE ROUSTAN.
CARLOS M. DE PENA.
MINISTER OF FOREIGN RELATIONS,
MONTEVIDEO, Jan. 27, 1893.
_To the Consul-General:_
The Government has this day issued the following decree:
Ministry of Foreign Relations. Decree. Montevideo, January 27,
1893.
In view of the representation made by the Ministry of Public Works
(Fomento) in a note of present date, the President of the Republic
decrees:
ARTICLE 1. The following are appointed as members of the Commission
representing the Republic of Uruguay in the Universal Exposition at
Chicago: President, Senor Don Prudencio de Murguiondo, Consul-General
in the United States of North America; Special Commissioner, Don
Lucio Rodriguez Diez; and Regular Commissioner, Don Alberto Gomez
Ruano, Dr. Don Eduardo Chucarro, and Don Ricardo Hughes.
ART. 2. The said Commissioners will arrange directly with the Central
Commission at Montevideo in everything relating to their duties.
ART. 3. Let this decree be published and recorded.
Signed: HERRERA Y OBES,
MANUEL HERRERO Y ESPINOSA.
Any information regarding Uruguay will be cheerfully given by the
Commissioners at Chicago till the Exposition closes, and after that
by the Consul-General of Uruguay, at Washington, D. C., or the
following Consuls and Vice-Consuls.
_CONSULS._
THOMAS A. EDDY, NEW YORK.
KAFAEL S. SALAS, SAVANNAH, GA.
JOSE COSTA, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
LEONCE RABILLON, BALTIMORE, MD.
JAMES E. MARRETT, PORTLAND, MAINE.
EDUARDO FORNIAS, PHILADELPHIA.
C. C. TURNER, CHICAGO, ILL.
_VICE-CONSULS._
ARTHUR CARROLL, BOSTON, MASS.
THOMAS C. WATSON, PENSACOLA, FLA.
HENRY T. DUNN, BRUNSWICK, GA.
W. A. MURCHIE, CALAIS, MAINE.
N. B. BORDEN, FERNANDINA, FLA.
JAMES HAUGHTON, {NORFOLK, NEWPORT NEWS
{ AND YORKTOWN.
GEORGE A. BARKSDALE, RICHMOND, VA.
WILLIAM N. HARRIS, WILMINGTON, N. C.
G. H. GREEN, NEW ORLEANS.
F. B. GENOVAE, ST. AUGUSTINE, FLA.
CHARLES F. HUCHET, CHARLESTON, S. C.
R. W. STEWART, BANGOR, MAINE.
ALFRED THOMAS SHAW, MOBILE, ALA.
ARTHUR HOMER, GALVESTON, TEXAS.
H. F. KREBS, PASCAGOULA, MISS.
THE ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY.
(SOUTH AMERICA.)
Discovery--Situation--Limits--Configuration--Perimeter--Superficies.
The territory of the Oriental Republic of Uruguay, situated within
the temperate zone of South America, was discovered in the beginning
of the sixteenth century by the famous Spanish cosmographer, Juan
Diaz de Solis.
Its geographical situation is comprised between the 30 deg., 5' and 35 deg.
degrees of latitude S. and the 56th 15' and 60th 45' of longitude W.,
according to the Paris meridian.
North and eastward it confines with the United States of Brazil, and
westward with the Argentine Republic.
Its limits are: On the north, the river Cuareim, the _cuchilla_ or
ridge of hills of Santa Ana, and the right bank of the river Yaguaron
Grande; on the east, the occidental coast of Lake Merin and the river
Chuy, which empties into the Atlantic ocean; on the west, the river
Uruguay, which separates it from the Argentine Republic; on the
south, the river Plate.
Its configuration is somewhat that of a many-sided polygon,
surrounded in its greatest part by water, except its northern part,
where it is bounded by the terrestrial frontier, which separates it
from the Brazilian Republic.
Its perimeter is of 1846 kilom. 850 m., out of which 1073 kilom.
750 m. are sea and river coasts, remaining 773 kilom. 100 m. of
terrestrial line.
Its superficies is 186,920 square kilom.
Aspect--Climate--Meteorology.
The prevailing aspect of the country presents itself with continuous
undulations, formed by the numerous _cuchillas_ or ridges of hills,
which shoot in all directions.
The hills are covered with rich pasture grounds.
Trees of all kinds stand along the banks of the principal rivers and
rivulets which flow, winding about, over great extensions of land,
and water the fertile meadows, forming, under a quiet and generally
clear sky, a charming landscape all over, which invites to employ
usefully such manifold natural riches that have just begun, being
cultivated and worked in a vast scale and with fruitful results.
Although it is not a mountainous country, its highlands are numerous.
The principal heights are the hills of Santa Ana, 490 m.; the hills
of Haedo, 400 m.; the Cuchilla Grande (high hills), 458 m. To all
these hills join a great many others less high, the declivity of
which form the lakes, ponds and rivers that give a great variety to
the hydrography of the country.
The climate all over the Republic is mild and notably healthy; there
exist no malignous, endemical disease whatever. Neither the cold nor
the heat is excessive.
The middle temperature may be calculated to be, in winter-time of 11
degrees, in spring-time of 17 degrees, in summer of 21 degrees, and
in autumn of 16 degrees.
The maximum of heat in the month of January is 36 deg., and that of cold
in the month of July is 3 deg. above naught.
The climate is a little dryer in the interior than on the coast.
Along the coasts watered by the salt waters of the great mouth of the
river Plate, the climate is thoroughly a sea climate, and the seasons
never get to any extreme.
Meteorological observations, made in Montevideo in the year 1843 and
down to the year 1852 have given a middle term of 244 serene days, 85
cloudy days and 36 rainy days per annum.
The last observations made by the "Uruguay Meteorological Society"
during the year 1891 have given the following results;
Atmospherical pressure, calculated in mm., reduced to 0, middle term,
760,572.
Temperature of the air, in the shade, centigrade degrees, middle
term, 16,23; minimum, m. t. 12.77; maximum, m. t. 19.36.
Tension of the vapor, in mm., middle term, 10.98.
Relative humidity (saturation = 100), middle term, 77.29.
Inferior wind, prevailing direction N. N. E.; rapidity in meters by
second, middle term, 3.81.
Rain, mm., total: 711.8.
Winter is so mild in this country that, in fact, the year may be
divided into two seasons--the hot season, from November till April,
and the cool season, from May till October.
Whatever may be the geographical situation of his own country the
foreigner does not need any previous acclimation; when he comes to
live in this Republic he does not feel any disorder in his health,
owing to the mildness of the temperature.
The most ordinary winds are the N., N. E., E, and S. W. winds. This
last one, called _Pampero_, is pure and vivifying and is rightly
considered as the purifier of the Plate, and one of the principal
causes of the wholesomeness which the country enjoys.
Rivers--Rivulets--Ports--Docks--Dry Docks.
With only looking over the map of the Republic, one gets an idea of
its rich hydrography.
Sixteen rivers flow through the territory, all being joined by more
than 500 rivulets that increase their size and current.
The principal rivers are the Plate and Uruguay, which bathe the
coasts of the Republic, and the Rio <DW64> (the black river), which
flows all through the center of the territory.
The River plate, at its mouth, between cape Santa Maria and cape
San Antonio, is more than 206 kilometers wide; its superficies are
calculated to be over 39,846 kilom.; its length 361 kilom.; its
breadth, between Colonia and Buenos Ayres, a little more than 51
kilom.
The River Uruguay flows from N. to S., its length through the
Republic is 530 kilom., its breadth from the Guazu down to the point
of Fray Bentos varies from 10 to 15 kilom. After passing Fray Bentos
it becomes narrow, owing to the multitude of islands which form deep
channels. In its normal state it runs three or four miles an hour.
It is navigable up to Paysandu for ships of great tonnage, and up to
Salto for coast trading boats.
The Rio <DW64> runs through the territory from N. W. to W., with an
extension of 463 kilom. It is navigable for ships of small tonnage
for 94 kilom., more or less.
The other thirteen rivers are: the Cuareim, the Arapey, the Dayman,
the Queguay, the Tacuarembo, the Yi, the Yaguaron, the Tacuari, the
Olimar Grande, the San Jose, the San Salvador and the Santa Lucia.
These powerful arteries, the waters of which are increased by
numberless rivulets that empty into them, flow down to the remotest
parts of the Republic and fertilize them.
The waters of the River Plate, till a little further up than Santa
Lucia are salt; beyond this they always remain fresh.
The waters of the Uruguay, Rio <DW64> and other rivers of the interior
have the property of petrifying animal and vegetable substances.
Along the 1,073 kilom. of maritime and fluvial coasts, which are
counted from the mouth of the Cuareim River down to the River Chuy,
are the principal ports of the Republic.
The most important ones are Maldonado, Montevideo and Colonia, on
the coasts watered by the River Plate. There exist others of less
importance, like those of Paloma, Coronilla, Castillos Grande, Buceo
and also the bay, called the Englishman's Bay, (Ensenada del Ingles).
Along the River Uruguay we find the ports Nueva Palmira, Carmelo,
Independencia, Paysandu, Salto, Constitucion and Santa Rosa. Along
the Rio <DW64>, those of Soriano and Mercedes; and along the San
Salvador the port of San Salvador.
The principal port in the Republic is that of Montevideo. It is
estimated as the best port on the River Plate, owing to its natural
conditions. It has the shape of a horse-shoe, being the two extreme
points, which form its entrance, some seven kilom. distant from one
another.
The perimeter of the bay is ten kilom., and six hundred m. It offers
ships a safe shelter, its entrance being towards the N. W. and its
channel between 15 and 17 feet deep. The general depth of the bay is
between 14 and 15 feet. The steamers cast anchor near the entrance of
the port in the exterior bay where the depth gets to 25 feet.
The port of Montevideo is not only the anchoring ground of the ships
that have to load and unload, but it is also the port where all of
the ships stop on their way to the Pacific Ocean, and also all the
men-of-war of the nations which have a naval station in the River
Plate.
All the steamers of the rivers have their anchoring ground in front
of the docks, where they all have their moorings at a distance of 125
m. from the wharf.
Being the principal port where the commercial and naval movement
is most important, Montevideo counts with two beautiful dry docks,
belonging to private persons, one of them is the Maua Dry Dock and
the other one belongs to Jackson and Cibils. They have both been
opened in the quick rock, and have for their service all the most
modern machines, admitting ships of all tonnage.
Besides those two, there are a great many docks, dry docks and
harbors, all over the bay and also in the ports of Salto and Colonia.
Minerals.
The territory of the Republic contains numberless riches not worked
out yet, in precious metals, in copper, iron, lead, etc., in agate
stone, rock, crystal, slate, calcareous stone, marble of all colors,
which could advantageously rival with the marbles of Italy and
Pyrenean mountains.
Rich marble quarries exist in the department of Minas, which could
not have been worked before on account of the difficulties for the
transport, made easier and cheaper now days when the railway reaches
to Minas 123 kilom. distant from the capital.
The Cunapiru gold region is now worked by the following societies:
Zapucay gold mines, with 20 crushing machines.
Uruguay gold fields, with 60 crushing machines.
Hermanos gold minings, with 20 crushing machines.
The French Uruguay gold mine company, the working of which is stopped
for the present, has spent in the region mentioned more than three
millions of dollars, and has established milldams in the rivers
Cunapiru and Corrales so as to employ, for the grinding, a powerful
hydraulic strength.
The working of the mines on a great scale is just beginning now
without interruption.
During the last two years over 72,000 tons of quartz have been
extracted and crushed, giving a result of over 420 kilog. of fine
gold.
Mines of lead and copper and marble quarries are now worked in the
departments of Minas and Maldonado.
The agate stone is exported as it is found in the Catalan hills,
department of Salto, and there exists in Montevideo an agent of the
house established in that department, where are sold the stones
worked out into art objects.
In La Paz, near Montevideo, there exist quarries of red and blue
granite, some beautiful pieces of which are employed as columns in
some important buildings.
Stone is abundant in the Republic. Everywhere in Cerro, La Paz,
Sauce, Colonia and other places they continually open new quarries
which permit a considerable exportation for the works undertaken in
Buenos
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Images of the original pages are available through
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Wyoming Series.--No. 1.
WYOMING
by
EDWARD S. ELLIS
Author of "Young Pioneer Series," "Log Cabin Series," etc., etc.
Philadelphia
Henry T. Coates & Co.
Copyright, 1888.
by
Porter & Coates.
[Illustration: "He was stopped in the most startling manner that can be
imagined."]
WYOMING.
CHAPTER I.
On the sultry third of July, 1778, Fred Godfrey, a sturdy youth of
eighteen years, was riding at a breakneck speed down the Wyoming Valley,
in the direction of the settlement, from which he saw columns of smoke
rolling upward, and whence, during the few pauses of his steed, he heard
the rattling discharge of firearms and the shouts of combatants.
"I wonder whether I am too late," he asked himself more than once, and
he urged his splendid horse to a greater pace; "the road never seemed so
long."
Ah, there was good cause for the anxiety of the lad, for in that lovely
Wyoming Valley lived those who were dearer to him than all the world
beside, and whatever fate overtook the settlers must be shared by him as
well. He had ridden his horse hard, and his flanks glistened with wet
and foam, but though every foot of the winding road was familiar to him,
it appeared in his torturing impatience to be double its usual length.
Fred Godfrey had received the promise of his father, on the breaking out
of the Revolution, that he might enlist in the patriot army so soon as
he reached the age of seventeen. On the very day that he attained that
age he donned the Continental uniform, made for him by loving hands,
bade his friends good-bye, and hastened away to where Washington was
longing for just such lusty youths as he who appeared to be several
years younger than he really was.
Fred was a handsome, athletic youngster, and he sat his horse with the
grace of a crusader. Although the day was warm, and his face glowed with
perspiration, he wore his cocked hat, blue coat with its white facings,
the belt around the waist and another which passed over one shoulder ere
it joined the one around the middle of his body, knee-breeches, and
strong stockings and shoes. His rifle was slung across his back, and a
couple of loaded single-barreled pistols were thrust in his belt, where
they could be drawn the instant needed.
During his year's service in the patriot army Fred had proven himself an
excellent soldier, and the dash and nerve which he showed in more than
one instance caught the eye of Washington himself, and won the youth a
lieutenancy, at the time when he was the youngest member of his company.
The ardent patriot was full of ambition, and was sure, should no
accident befall him, of gaining higher honors. When he tramped with
several other recruits from Wyoming to the camp of the Continentals,
hundreds of miles away, one of his greatest comforts was the belief
that, no matter how the current of war drifted back and forth, there was
no danger of its reaching Wyoming. That lovely and secluded valley was
so far removed from the tread of the fierce hosts that they might feel
secure.
But behold! News came to Washington that the Tories and Indians were
about to march into the valley with torch and tomahawk, and he was
begged to send re-enforcements without delay. The Father of his Country
was then on his campaign through the Jerseys. The British army had
withdrawn from Philadelphia, where it spent the winter, and Clinton with
a part of the force was marching overland to New York, with the
Continentals in pursuit.
The campaign was so important that the commander-in-chief could ill
afford to spare a man. He knew that Wyoming was not entirely
defenseless. Colonel Zebulon Butler of the Continental army was
marshaling the old men and boys, and there was the strong defense known
as
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POEMS***
Transcribed from the 1898 John Lane edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: The Old Maid]
THE FAIRY
CHANGELING
AND OTHER
POEMS
BY DORA SIGERSON
(MRS CLEMENT SHORTER)
[Picture: Decorative shamrock divider]
JOHN LANE
THE BODLEY HEAD
LONDON & NEW YORK
MDCCCXCVIII
NOTE
_Only one of the pieces in the following collection appeared in the
writer's earlier volume_ ("_Verses_" _by Dora Sigerson_; _Elliot Stock_,
1893). _The remainder have found refuge in_ "_Longman's Magazine_,"
"_The Pall Mall Magazine_," "_The National Observer_" (_of Mr. Henley_),
"_Cassell's Magazine_," _and numerous American publications_--"_The
Century Magazine_," "_The Bookman_," "_The Boston Pilot_," "_The
Chap-Book_," _and others_. _The Author wishes to thank the Editors of
these magazines and journals for the kindness implied_.
CONTENTS
The Fairy Changeling _Page_ 1
A Ballad of Marjorie 3
The Priest's Brother 6
The Ballad of the Little Black Hound 9
The Rape of the Baron's Wine 15
Cean Duv Deelish 19
Banagher Rhue 21
The Fair Little Maiden 23
At Christmas Time 25
A Weeping Cupid 26
The Lover 28
A Bird from the West 30
All Souls' Eve 32
An Imperfect Revolution 34
Love 36
Wishes 38
Cupid Slain 39
What Will You Give? 40
A Meadow Tragedy 42
An Eclipse 43
The Scallop Shell 44
With a Rose 45
For Ever 46
The Blow Returned 47
Vale 48
The Skeleton in the Cupboard 49
You Will Not Come Again 51
The Wreckage 52
I am the World 53
A New Year 55
The Kine of My Father 57
Sanctuary 59
An Eastern God 61
A Friend in Need 63
In a Wood 64
A Vagrant Heart 65
When You are on the Sea 68
My Neighbour's Garden 70
An Irish Blackbird 72
Death of Gormlaith 73
Unknown Ideal 75
Beware 77
The Old Maid 78
Wirastrua 80
Questions 81
A Little Dog 82
"I Prayed so Eagerly" 85
"When the Dark Comes" 86
Distant Voices 87
The Ballad of the Fairy Thorn-Tree 89
The Suicide's Grave 95
THE FAIRY CHANGELING
Dermod O'Byrne of Omah town
In his garden strode up and down;
He pulled his beard, and he beat his breast;
And this is his trouble and woe confessed:
"The good-folk came in the night, and they
Have stolen my bonny wean away;
Have put in his place a changeling,
A weashy, weakly, wizen thing!
"From the speckled hen nine eggs I stole,
And lighting a fire of a glowing coal,
I fried the shells, and I spilt the yolk;
But never a word the stranger spoke:
"A bar of metal I heated red
To frighten the fairy from its bed,
To put in the place of this fretting wean
My own bright beautiful boy again.
"But my wife had hidden it in her arms,
And cried 'For shame!' on my fairy charms;
She sobs, with the strange child on her breast:
'I love the weak, wee babe the best!'"
To Dermod O'Byrne's, the tale to hear,
The neighbours came from far and near:
Outside his gate, in the long boreen,
They crossed themselves, and said between
Their muttered prayers, "He has no luck!
For sure the woman is fairy-struck,
To leave her child a fairy guest,
And love the weak, wee wean the best!"
A BALLAD OF MARJORIE
"What ails you that you look so pale,
O fisher of the sea?"
"'Tis for a mournful tale I own,
Fair maiden Marjorie."
"What is the dreary tale to tell,
O toiler of the sea?"
"I cast my net into the waves,
Sweet maiden Marjorie.
"I cast my
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THE BANDBOX
BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
The Bandbox
Cynthia-of-the-Minute
No Man's Land
The Fortune Hunter
The Pool of Flame
The Bronze Bell
The Black Bag
The Brass Bowl
The Private War
Terence O'Rourke
[Illustration: "Now, sir!" she exclaimed, turning
FRONTISPIECE. _See Page 83_]
The Bandbox
BY LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
Author of "The Brass Bowl," "The Bronze Bell,"
"Cynthia-of-the-Minute," etc.
With Four Illustrations
By ARTHUR I. KELLER
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
_Copyright, 1911, 1912,_
By Louis Joseph Vance.
_All rights reserved, including those of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian_
Published, April, 1912
Reprinted, April, 1912 (three times)
TO
LEWIS BUDDY III
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I INTRODUCING MR. IFF 1
II THE BANDBOX 14
III TWINS 26
IV QUEENSTOWN 43
V ISMAY? 65
VI IFF? 87
VII STOLE AWAY! 109
VIII THE WRONG BOX 128
IX A LIKELY STORY 158
X DEAD O' NIGHT 177
XI THE COLD GREY DAWN 194
XII WON'T YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR? 216
XIII WRECK ISLAND 233
XIV THE STRONG-BOX 254
XV THE ENEMY'S HAND 275
XVI NINETY MINUTES 295
XVII HOLOCAUST 312
THE BANDBOX
I
INTRODUCING MR. IFF
At half-past two of a sunny, sultry afternoon late in the month of
August, Mr. Benjamin Staff sat at table in the dining-room of the
Authors' Club, moodily munching a morsel of cheese and a segment of
cast-iron biscuit and wondering what he must do to be saved from the
death-in-life of sheer ennui.
A long, lank gentleman, surprisingly thin, of a slightly saturnine cast:
he was not only unhappy, he looked it. He was alone and he was lonely;
he was an American and a man of sentiment (though he didn't look _that_)
and he wanted to go home; to sum up, he found himself in love and in
London at one and the same time, and felt precisely as ill at ease in
the one as in the other of these, to him, exotic circumstances.
Inconceivable as it may seem that any rational man should yearn for New
York in August, that and nothing less was what Staff wanted with all his
heart. He wanted to go home and swelter and be swindled by taxicab
drivers and snubbed by imported head-waiters; he wanted to patronise the
subway at peril of asphyxiation and to walk down Fifth Avenue at that
witching hour when electric globes begin to dot the dusk of
evening--pale moons of a world of steel and stone; he wanted to ride in
elevators instead of lifts, in trolley-cars instead of trams; he wanted
to go to a ball-game at the Polo Grounds, to dine dressed as he pleased,
to insult his intelligence with a roof-garden show if he felt so
disposed, and to see for himself just how much of Town had been torn
down in the two months of his exile and what they were going to put up
in its place. He wanted, in short, his own people; more specifically he
wanted just one of them, meaning to marry her if she'd have him.
Now to be homesick and lovesick all at once is a tremendously disturbing
state of affairs. So influenced, the strongest men are prone to folly.
Staff, for instance, had excellent reason to doubt the advisability of
leaving London just then, with an unfinished play on his hands; but he
was really no more than a mere, normal human being, and he did want very
badly to go home. If it was a sharp struggle, it was a
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_ILLUSTRATED BIOGRAPHIES OF
THE GREAT ARTISTS._
[Illustration: decoration]
JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER
ROYAL ACADEMICIAN.
[Illustration: decoration]
ILLUSTRATED BIOGRAPHIES
OF
THE GREAT ARTISTS.
TITIAN From the most recent authorities.
_By Richard Ford Heath, M.A., Hertford Coll. Oxford._
REMBRANDT From the Text of C. VOSMAER.
_By J. W. Mollett, B.A., Brasenose Coll. Oxford._
RAPHAEL From the Text of J. D. PASSAVANT.
_By N. D'Anvers, Author of "Elementary History of Art."_
VAN DYCK & HALS From the most recent authorities.
_By Percy R. Head, Lincoln Coll. Oxford._
HOLBEIN From the Text of Dr. WOLTMANN.
_By the Editor, Author of "Life and Genius of Rembrandt"_
TINTORETTO From recent investigations.
_By W. Roscoe Osler, Author of occasional Essays on Art._
TURNER From the most recent authorities.
_By Cosmo Monkhouse, Author of "Studies of Sir E. Landseer."_
THE LITTLE MASTERS From the most recent authorities.
_By W. B. Scott, Author of "Lectures on the Fine Arts."_
HOGARTH From recent investigations.
_By Austin Dobson, Author of "Vignettes in Rhyme," &c._
RUBENS From recent investigations.
_By C. W. Kett, M.A., Hertford Coll. Oxford._
MICHELANGELO From the most recent authorities.
_By Charles Clement, Author of "Michel-Ange, Leonard, et Raphael."_
LIONARDO From recent researches.
_By Dr. J. Paul Richter, Author of "Die Mosaiken von Ravenna."_
GIOTTO From recent investigations.
_By Harry Quilter, M.A., Trinity College, Cambridge._
THE FIGURE PAINTERS OF THE NETHERLANDS.
_By Lord Ronald Gower, Author of "Guide to the Galleries of Holland."_
VELAZQUEZ From the most recent authorities.
_By Edwin Stowe, B.A., Brasenose Coll. Oxford._
GAINSBOROUGH From the most recent authorities.
_By George M. Brock-Arnold, M.A., Hertford Coll. Oxford._
PEUGINO From recent investigations.
_By T. Adolphus Trollope, Author of many Essays on Art._
DELAROCHE & VERNET From the works of CHARLES BLANC.
_By Mrs. Ruutz Rees, Author of various Essays on Art._
[Illustration: JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER.
_From a sketch by John Gilbert._]
"_The whole world without Art would be one great wilderness._"
[Illustration: decoration]
TURNER
BY W. COSMO MONKHOUSE
_Author of_ "_Studies of Sir E. Landseer._"
[Illustration]
NEW YORK:
SCRIBNER AND WELFORD.
LONDON:
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
1879.
(_All rights reserved._)
CHISWICK PRESS:--C. WHITTINGHAM, TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.
[Illustration: decorative bar]
PREFACE.
The late Mr. Thornbury lost such an opportunity of writing a worthy
biography of Turner as will never occur again. How he dealt with the
valuable materials which he collected is well known to all who have had
to test the accuracy of his statements; and unfortunately many of the
channels from which he derived information have since been closed by
death. Mr. Ruskin, who might have helped so much, has contributed little
to the life of the artist but some brilliant passages of pathetic
rhetoric. Overgrown by his luxuriant eloquence, and buried beneath the
_debris_ of Thornbury, the ruins of Turner's Life lay hidden till last
year.
Mr. Hamerton's "Life of Turner" has done much to remove a very serious
blot from English literature. Very careful, but very frank, it presents
a clear and consistent view of the great painter and his art, and is,
moreover, penetrated with that intellectual insight and refined thought
which illuminate all its author's work.
He has, however, left much to be done, and this book will, I hope, help
a little in clearing away long-standing errors, and reducing the known
facts about Turner to something like order. To these facts I have been
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PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
Designed to provide in a series
of volumes, each complete in itself,
the cream of our national humour,
contributed by the masters of
comic draughtsmanship and the
leading wits of the age to "Punch,"
from its beginning in 1841 to the
present day.
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY
[Illustration]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Actor (on the stage)._ "Me mind is made up!"
_Voice from the Gallery._ "What abeaout yer fice?"]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY
HUMOURS OF MUSIC AND THE DRAMA
_WITH 140 ILLUSTRATIONS_
[Illustration]
BY CHARLES KEENE, PHIL MAY, GEORGE DU MAURIER, BERNARD PARTRIDGE, L.
RAVEN-HILL, E. T. REED, F. H. TOWNSEND, C. E. BROCK, A. S. BOYD, TOM
BROWNE, EVERARD HOPKINS AND OTHERS
PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
* * * * *
THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.
* * * * *
THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
_Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo, 192 pages fully illustrated_
LIFE IN LONDON
COUNTRY LIFE
IN THE HIGHLANDS
SCOTTISH HUMOUR
IRISH HUMOUR
COCKNEY HUMOUR
IN SOCIETY
AFTER DINNER STORIES
IN BOHEMIA
AT THE PLAY
MR. PUNCH AT HOME
ON THE CONTINONG
RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND GUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOVE
WITH THE CHILDREN
[Illustration]
* * * * *
[Illustration]
BEFORE THE CURTAIN
Most of the PUNCH artists of note have used their pencils on the
theatre; with theatricals public and private none has done more than Du
Maurier. All have made merry over the extravagances of melodrama and
"problem" plays; the vanity and the mistakes of actors, actresses and
dramatists; and the blunderings of the average playgoer.
MR. PUNCH genially satirises the aristocratic amateurs who, some few
years ago, made frantic rushes into the profession, and for a while
enjoyed more kudos as actors than they had obtained as titled members
of the upper circle, and the exaggerated social status that for the time
accrued to the professional actor as a consequence of this invasion.
The things he has written about the stage, quite apart from all
reviewing of plays, would more than fill a book of itself; and he has
slyly and laughingly satirised players, playwrights and public with an
equal impartiality.
He has got a deal of fun out of the French dramas and the affected
pleasure taken in them by audiences that did not understand the
language. He has got even more fun out of the dramatists whose "original
plays" were largely translated from the French, and to whom Paris was,
and to some extent is still, literally and figuratively "a playground."
[Illustration]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY
SOMETHING FOR THE MONEY
(_From the Playgoers' Conversation Book. Coming Edition._)
[Illustration]
I have only paid three guineas and a half for this stall, but it is
certainly stuffed with the very best hair.
The people in the ten-and-sixpenny gallery seem fairly pleased with
their dado.
I did not know the call-boy was at Eton.
The expenses of this house must be enormous, if they always play _Box
and Cox_ with a rasher of real Canadian bacon.
How nice to know that the musicians, though out of sight under the
stage, are in evening dress on velvet cushions!
Whoever is the author of this comedy, he has not written up with spirit
to that delightful Louis the Fifteenth linen cupboard.
I cannot catch a word "Macbeth" is saying, but I can see at a glance
that his kilt would be extremely cheap at seventy pounds.
I am not surprised to hear that the "Tartar's lips" for the cauldron
alone add nightly something like fifty-five-and-sixpence to the
expenses.
Do not bother me about the situation when I am looking at the quality of
the velvet pile.
Since the introduction of the _live_ hedgehog into domestic drama
obliged the management to raise the second-tier private boxes to forty
guineas, the Duchess has gone into the slips with an order.
They had, perhaps, better take away the champagne-bottle and the
diamond-studded whistle from the prompter.
Ha! here comes the chorus of villagers, provided with real silk
pocket-handkerchiefs.
It is all this sort of thing that elevates the drama, and makes me so
contented to part with a ten-pound note for an evening's amusement.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Pantomime Child (to admiring friend)._ "Yus, and there's
another hadvantage in bein' a hactress. You get yer fortygraphs took for
noffink!"]
* * * * *
THE HEIGHT OF LITERARY NECESSITY.--"Spouting" Shakspeare.
* * * * *
WHEN are parsons bound in honour not to abuse theatres?
When they take orders.
* * * * *
WHAT VOTE THE MANAGER OF A THEATRE ALWAYS HAS.--The "casting" vote.
* * * * *
"STAND NOT ON THE ORDER OF YOUR GOING."--An amiable manager says the
orders which he issues for the pit and gallery are what in his opinion
constitute "the lower orders."
* * * * *
GREAT THEATRICAL EFFECT.--During a performance of _Macbeth_ at the
Haymarket, the thunder was so natural that it turned sour a pint of beer
in the prompter's-box.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE DRAMA.--"'Ere, I say, 'Liza, we've seen this 'ere
play before!" "No, we ain't." [_Wordy argument follows._] "Why, don't
you remember, same time as Bill took us to the 'Pig an' Whistle,' an' we
'ad stewed eels for supper?" "Oh lor! Yes, that takes me back to it!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TRUE APPRECIATION
(_Overheard at the Theatre_)
_Mrs. Parvenu._ "I don't know that I'm exackly _gone_ on Shakspeare
Plays."
[_Mr. P. agrees._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Conversationalist._ "Do you play ping-pong?"
_Actor._ "No. I play _Hamlet_!"]
* * * * *
TO ACTORS WHO ARE NOT WORTH A THOUGHT.--We notice that there is a book
called "Acting and Thinking." This is to distinguish it, we imagine,
from the generality of acting, in which there is mostly no thinking?
* * * * *
A CRUSHER.--_Country Manager (to Mr. Agrippa Snap, the great London
critic, who has come down to see the production of a piece on trial)._
And what do you think, sir, of our theatre and our players?
_Agrippa Snap (loftily)._ Well, frankly, Mr. Flatson, your green-room's
better than your company.
* * * * *
[Illustration: The higher walk of the drama]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "Auntie, can _you_ do that?"]
* * * * *
Theatrical managers are so often accused of being unable to break with
tradition, that it seems only fair to point out that several of them
have recently produced plays, in which the character of "Hamlet" does
not appear at all.
* * * * *
ON A DRAMATIC AUTHOR
"Yes, he's a plagiarist," from Tom this fell,
"As to his social faults, sir, one excuses 'em;
'Cos he's good natured, takes a joke so well."
"True," cries an author, "he takes mine and uses 'em."
* * * * *
THE MANAGER'S COMPLAINT
She danced among the unfinished ways
That merge into the Strand,
A maid whom none could fail to praise,
And very few withstand.
A sylph, accepted for the run,
Not at a weekly wage;
Fair as a star when only one
Is shining on the stage.
She met a lord, and all men know
How soon she'd done with me;
Now she is in _Debrett_, oh, and,
That's where they all would be!
* * * * *
[Illustration: A FIRST NIGHT.--_Indignant Playwright (to leading actor,
behind the scenes)._ "Confound it, man, you've absolutely murdered the
piece!" _Leading Actor._ "Pardon me, but I think the foul play is
yours!"]
* * * * *
_Smart._ How do, Smooth? (_to theatrical manager, who frowns upon him_).
What's the matter, eh?
_Smooth._ Matter? Hang it, Smart, you wrote me down in "The Stinger."
_Smart (repressing something Shakspearian about "writing down" which
occurs to him, continues pleasantly)._ Wrote you down? No, I said the
piece was a bad one, because I thought it was; a very bad one.
_Smooth._ Bad! (_Sarcastically._) You were the only man who said so.
_Smart (very pleasantly)._ My dear fellow, _I was the only man who saw
it._ Good-bye.
[_Exeunt severally._
* * * * *
MOTTO FOR A BOX-OFFICE KEEPER.--"So much for booking 'em."
* * * * *
"A considerable demonstration of approval greeted the fall of the
curtain." How are we to take this?
* * * * *
[Illustration: "THE DESIRE OF THE MOTH FOR THE STAR."--_Mistress._ "And
you dare to tell me, Belinda, that you have actually answered a
_theatrical advertisement_? How _could_ you be such a _wicked_ girl?"
_Belinda (whimpering)._ "Well, mum,--_other_ young lidies--gow on
the--stige--why shouldn't _I_ gow?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE COUNTER-CHECK QUARRELSOME.--_Mr. AEsopus Delasparre._
"I will ask you to favour me, madam, by refraining from laughing at me
on the stage during my third act." _Miss Jones (sweetly)._ "Oh, but I
assure you you're mistaken, Mr. Delasparre; I never laugh at you on the
stage--I wait till I get home!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: SWEEPING ASSERTION.--"The other night, at the Novelty
Theatre, Mrs. Vere-Jones was gowned simply in a _clinging_ black velvet,
with a cloak of same handsomely trimmed with ermine."--_Extract from
Society Journal._]
* * * * *
DRAMATIC NOTES OF THE FUTURE
[A little cheild is the hero of _Everybody's Secret_; the curtain
rises upon four little cheildren in _Her Own Way_; there are
cheildren of various ages in _Alice-Sit-by-the-fire_.]
Mr. Barrie's new play, _The Admirable Creche_, will be presented
to-morrow. We understand that there is a pretty scene in the third act
in which several grown-ups are discovered smoking cigars. It may
confidently be predicted that all the world will rush to the "Duke of
York's" to see this novelty. _The Admirable Creche_ will be preceded at
8.30 by _Bassinette--A Plea for a Numerous Family_, a one-act play by
Theodore Roosevelt and Louis N. Parker.
Little Baby Wilkins is making quite a name with her wonderful rendering
of "Perdita" in the Haymarket version of _A Winter's Tale_. As soon as
actor-manager Wilkins realised the necessity of cutting the last two
acts (in which "Perdita" is grown up) the play was bound to succeed. By
the way, Mr. E. H. Cooper's new book, "Perditas I have Known," is
announced.
Frankly, we are disappointed in Mr. Pinero's new play, _Little Arthur_,
produced at Wyndham's last week. It treated of the old old theme--the
love of the hero for his nurse. To be quite plain, this stale triangle,
mother--son--nurse, is beginning to bore us. Are there no other themes
in every-day life which Mr. Pinero might take? Could he not, for
instance, give us an analysis of the mind of a young genius torn between
the necessity for teething and the desire to edit a great daily? Duty
calls him both ways: his duty to himself and his duty to the public.
Imagine a Wilkins in such a scene!
The popular editor of the "Nursery," whose unrivalled knowledge of
children causes him to be referred to everywhere as our greatest
playwright, is a little at sea in his latest play, _Rattles_. In the
first act he rashly introduces (though by this time he should know his
own limitations) two grown-ups at lunch--Mr. Jones the father, and Dr.
Brown, who discuss Johnny's cough. Now we would point out to Mr. Crouper
that men of their age would be unlikely to have milk for lunch; and
that they would not say "Yeth, pleath"--unless of Hebraic origin, and
Mr. Crouper does not say so anywhere. Mr. Crouper must try and see
something of grown-ups before he writes a play of this kind again.
We regret to announce that Cecil Tomkins, _doyen_ of actor-managers, is
down again with mumps.
* * * * *
[Illustration: MODERN IMPRESSIONIST ART. A MUSICAL COMEDY]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AT THE PREMIERE
_Lady in Front Row (to her neighbour, towards the end of the second
act)._ "Who is this man next me, who's just come in,--do you know? He
doesn't seem to be paying the smallest attention to the play!"
_Her Neighbour._ "Oh, I expect he's a critic. He's probably made up his
mind long ago what he's going to say of the piece; but he's just dropped
in to _confirm his suspicions_."]
* * * * *
NO FIRST-NIGHTER.--_First Man in the Street._ See the eclipse last
night?
_Second Man in the Street._ No. Thought it might be crowded. Put off
going till next week.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BILL OF THE PLAY]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AMENITIES OF THE PROFESSION.--_Rising Young Dramatist._
"Saw your wife in front last night. What did she think of my new
comedy?"
_Brother Playwright_. "Oh, I think she liked it. She told me she had a
good laugh."
_R. Y. D._ "Ah--er--when was that?"
_B. P._ "During the _entr'acte_. One of the attendants dropped an ice
down her neighbour's neck."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN
_Dora_ (_consulting a playbill_). "Only fancy! '_As You Like It_' is by
Shakspeare!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PRIVATE THEATRICALS. A REHEARSAL.--_The Captain._ "At
this stage of the proceedings I've got to kiss you, Lady Grace. Will
your husband mind, do you think?"
_Lady Grace._ "Oh no! It's for a _charity_, you know!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: AN INFANT ROSCIUS.--_Stage Manager_ (_interviewing
children with the idea of engaging them for a new play_). "Has this
child been on the stage?"
_Proud Mother._ "No; but he's been on an inquest, and he speaks up
fine!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A SOLILOQUY.--_Tragedian._ "Cheap. Ha, ha! Why in my time
they _threw_ them at us!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "Well, papa, how did you enjoy the play to-night?"
"Oh,
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email [email protected]
[Picture: Book cover]
A Summer in a Cañon
A CALIFORNIA STORY: _By_
KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
[Picture: Decorative graphic]
GAY AND HANCOCK, LTD.
12 AND 13 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN
LONDON
1914
_All rights reserved_
* * * * *
_Popular Edition_ 1914
_Reprinted_ 1914
* * * * *
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
PREPARATION AND DEPARTURE 1
CHAPTER II
THE JOURNEY 32
CHAPTER III
LIFE IN THE CAÑON—THE HEIR APPARENT LOSES 53
HIMSELF
CHAPTER IV
RHYME AND REASON 99
CHAPTER V
THE FOREST OF ARDEN—GOOD NEWS 133
CHAPTER VI
QUEEN ELSIE VISITS THE COURT 164
CHAPTER VII
POLLY’S BIRTHDAY: FIRST HALF IN WHICH SHE 188
REJOICES AT THE MERE FACT OF HER EXISTENCE
CHAPTER VIII
POLLY’S BIRTHDAY: SECOND HALF 203
CHAPTER IX
ROUND THE CAMP-FIRE 232
CHAPTER X
MORE CAMP-FIRE STORIES 249
CHAPTER XI
BREAKING CAMP 268
SCENE: _A Camping Ground in the Cañon Las Flores_.
PEOPLE IN THE TENTS.
DR. PAUL WINSHIP _Mine Host_.
MRS. TRUTH WINSHIP _The Guardian Angel_.
DICKY WINSHIP _A Small Scamp of Six Years_.
BELL WINSHIP _The Camp Poetess_.
POLLY OLIVER _A Sweet but Saucy Lass_.
MARGERY NOBLE _A Nut-Brown Mayde_.
PHILIP NOBLE _The Useful Member_.
GEOFFREY STRONG _A Harvard Boy_.
JACK HOWARD _Prince of Mischief_.
HOP YET _A Heathen Chinee_.
PANCHO GUTIERREZ _A Mexican man-of-all-work_.
CHAPTER I
PREPARATION AND DEPARTURE
‘One to make ready, and two to prepare.’
IT was nine o’clock one sunny California morning, and Geoffrey Strong
stood under the live-oak trees in Las Flores Cañon, with a pot of black
paint in one hand and a huge brush in the other. He could have handled
these implements to better purpose and with better grace had not his arms
been firmly held by three laughing girls, who pulled not wisely, but too
well. He was further incommoded by the presence of a small urchin who
lay on the dusty ground beneath his feet, fastening an upward clutch on
the legs of his trousers.
There were three large canvas tents directly in front of them, yet no one
of these seemed to be the object of dissension, but rather a redwood
board, some three feet in length, which was nailed on a tree near by.
‘Camp Frolic! Please let us name it Camp Frolic!’ cried Bell Winship,
with a persuasive twitch of her cousin’s sleeve.
‘No, no; not Camp Frolic,’ pleaded Polly Oliver. ‘Pray, pray let us have
Camp Ha-Ha; my heart is set upon it.’
‘As you are Strong, be merciful,’ quoted Margery Noble, coaxingly; ‘take
my advice and call it Harmony Camp.’
At this juncture, a lovely woman, whose sweet face and smile made you
love her at once, came up the hill from the brookside. ‘What, what!
still quarrelling, children?’ she asked, laughingly. ‘Let me be
peacemaker. I’ve just asked the Doctor for a name, and he suggests Camp
Chaparral. What do you say?’
Bell released one coat-tail. ‘That isn’t wholly bad,’ she said,
critically, while the other girls clapped their hands with approval; for
anything that Aunt Truth suggested was sure to be quite right.
‘Wait a minute, good people,’ cried Jack Howard, flinging his
fishing-tackle under a tree and sauntering toward the scene of action.
‘Suppose we have a referee, a wise and noble judge. Call Hop Yet, and
let him decide this all-important subject.’
His name being sung and shouted in various keys by the assembled company,
Hop Yet appeared at the door of the brush kitchen, a broad grin on his
countenance
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[Illustration: _Nine Little Tar Heels._]
_Tar Heel Tales_
_By
H. E. C. Bryant_
“_Red Buck_”
_Stone & Barringer Co.
Charlotte, N. C.
1910_
COPYRIGHT, 1909,
BY STONE & BARRINGER CO.
TO JOSEPH PEARSON CALDWELL
MOST OF THESE STORIES YOU HAVE SEEN, SOME YOU HAVE PRAISED, WHILE
OTHERS, NEWLY WRIT, YOU HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO SEE ON ACCOUNT OF YOUR
UNFORTUNATE ILLNESS, BUT, TO YOU, THE PRINCE OF TAR HEELS, I DEDICATE
ALL, IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF FIFTEEN YEARS OF INTIMATE ACQUAINTANCE,
FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP, AND MOST DELIGHTFUL COMPANIONSHIP.
PREFACE
These tales, concerning all sorts and conditions of people, were written
by H. E. C. Bryant, better known as Red Buck. As staff correspondent
of The Charlotte Observer, Mr. Bryant visited every corner of North
Carolina, and in his travels over the state wrote many stories of human
interest, depicting life and character as he found it. His first impulse
to publish his stories in book form resulted from an appreciation of
his work by the lamented Harry Myrover, a very scholarly writer of
Fayetteville, who said:
“I have been struck frequently at how the predominant mental
characteristic sticks out in Mr. Bryant. His sense of humor is as keen as
a razor. He sees a farce while other men are looking at a funeral
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STRIVE AND SUCCEED
OR
THE PROGRESS OF WALTER CONRAD
BY
HORATIO ALGER, JR.
AUTHOR OF “ERIE TRAIN BOY,” “YOUNG ACROBAT,”
“ONLY AN IRISH BOY,” “BOUND TO RISE,”
“STRONG AND STEADY,” “JULIUS,
THE STREET BOY,” ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ALGER SERIES FOR BOYS.
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.
BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
Adrift in New York.
A Cousin’s Conspiracy.
Andy Gordon.
Andy Grant’s Pluck.
Bob Burton.
Bound to Rise.
Brave and Bold.
Cash Boy.
Chester Rand.
Do and Dare.
Driven from Home.
Erie Train Boy.
Facing the World.
Five Hundred Dollars.
Frank’s Campaign.
Grit.
Hector’s Inheritance.
Helping Himself.
Herbert Caster’s Legacy.
In a New World.
Jack’s Ward.
Jed, the Poor House Boy.
Joe’s Luck.
Julius, the Street Boy.
Luke Walton.
Making His Way.
Mark Mason.
Only an Irish Boy.
Paul, the Peddler.
Phil, the Fiddler.
Ralph Raymond’s Heir.
Risen from the Ranks.
Sam’s Chance.
Shifting for Himself.
Sink or Swim.
Slow and Sure.
Store Boy.
Strive and Succeed.
Strong and Steady.
Struggling Upward.
Tin Box.
Tom, the Bootblack.
Tony, the Tramp.
Try and Trust.
Wait and Hope.
Walter Sherwood’s Probation.
Young Acrobat.
Young Adventurer.
Young Outlaw.
Young Salesman.
_Price, Post-Paid, 35c. each, or any three books for $1.00._
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO
MY YOUNG FRIENDS,
ISABELLA AND EDWIN,
THIS VOLUME
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE.
“STRIVE AND SUCCEED” is reprinted from the pages of _Young Israel_, a
New York juvenile magazine, to which it was contributed as a serial. It
is complete in itself, and can be read independently; but those who have
read its predecessor, “Strong and Steady,” may be interested to learn
that it traces the subsequent career of Walter Conrad, showing how he
continued to paddle his own canoe, and chronicles the adventures of
Joshua Drummond after his flight from home.
As Walter’s success as a teacher at the West may seem to some
improbable, in view of his youth, I am led to say that I know of more
than one case equally remarkable, in particular that of a gentleman
since prominent as a politician. The moral of the book is contained in
the title. As a rule of action, I recommend it confidently to all my
young readers.
NEW YORK, Oct. 1, 1872.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRIVE AND SUCCEED.
----------
CHAPTER I
WALTER CONRAD’S MISSION.
A LONG train was running at moderate speed over a Wisconsin railroad.
Among the passengers was a stout, gentlemanly-looking boy, who looked
much more than sixteen, although he had not yet reached that age. On the
seat beside him was a large carpetbag, which contained all the clothing
he carried with him. As the conductor passed through the car, the boy
asked:
“Are we near Benton?”
“It is the next station.”
“Is that the place to take the stage for Portville?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me how far I shall have to ride in the stage?”
“A matter of ten miles or thereabouts.”
“Thank you.”
The conductor passed on, and the boy began to shake the dust from his
coat, and, opening his carpetbag, deposited therein a copy of _Harper’s
Magazine_ which he had been reading. I may as well introduce him at once
to the reader as Walter Conrad, whose previous adventures have been
related in “Strong and Steady.” For the benefit of such of my present
readers as have not read this volume, I will sketch his history in
brief.
Walter Conrad, then, not quite a year since, had received, when at
boarding school, the unexpected intelligence of his father’s serious
illness. On reaching home, he found his parent dead. Subsequently he
learned that his father had bought shares to the extent of a hundred
thousand dollars in the Great Metropolitan Mining Company, and through
the failure of this company had probably lost everything. This
intelligence had doubtless hastened his death. Walter was, of course,
obliged to leave school, and accepted temporarily an invitation from Mr.
Jacob Drummond, of Stapleton, a remote kinsman, to visit him. In
extending the invitation Mr. Drummond was under the illusion that Walter
was the heir to a large property. On learning the truth, his manner was
changed completely, and Walter, finding himself no longer welcome as a
guest, proposed to enter Mr. Drummond’s store as a clerk. Being a strong
and capable boy, he was readily received on board wages. The board,
however, proved to be very poor, and his position was made more
disagreeable by Joshua Drummond, three years older than himself, who,
finding he could get nothing out of him, took a dislike to him. Walter
finally left Mr. Drummond’s employ, and, led by his love of adventure,
accepted an offer to travel as a book agent in Ohio. Here he was
successful, though he met with one serious adventure, involving him in
some danger, but was finally led to abandon the business at the request
of Clement Shaw, his father’s executor, for the following reason:
The head of the Great Metropolitan Mining Company, through whom his
father had been led to invest his entire fortune in it, was a man named
James Wall, a specious and plausible man, through whose mismanagement it
was believed it had failed. He was strongly suspected of conspiring to
make a fortune out of it at the expense of the other stockholders. He
had written to Mr. Shaw, offering the sum of two thousand dollars for
the thousand shares now held by Walter, an offer which the executor did
not feel inclined to accept until he knew that it was made in good
faith. He, therefore, wrote to Walter to change his name and go on to
Portville, the home of Mr. Wall, and there use all his shrewdness to
discover what he could of the position of the mining company, and Mr.
Wall’s designs in relation thereto. It may be added that after selling
the balance of the estate, Walter was found entitled to five hundred
dollars. He had, besides, cleared eighty-seven dollars net profit on his
sales as book agent.
Such is Walter’s story, though, for the present, we shall have to call
our hero Gilbert Howard--an assumed name, which he had adopted at the
executor’s suggestion, lest his real name might excite the suspicions of
Mr. Wall and so defeat the purpose of his journey.
Walter had scarcely made his preparations to leave the cars, when the
whistle sounded, and the train, gradually slackening its speed, came to
a stop.
“Benton!” called the conductor, rapidly, half opening the door.
“I am near my journey’s end,” thought Walter.
Several passengers descended from the train and gathered on the
platform. Among them, of course,
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VOLUME 147, AUGUST 12, 1914***
E-text prepared by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer, and the Project
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TOBY TYLER
or
Ten Weeks with a Circus
by
JAMES OTIS
Illustrated
[Illustration: BREAKFAST IN THE WOODS. _See p. 235._]
[Illustration]
New York and London
Harper & Brothers Publishers
* * * * * *
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE SERIES
EACH, SIXTY CENTS
_FRANCONIA STORIES_
BY JACOB ABBOTT
Malleville
Mary Bell
Ellen Linn
Wallace
Beechnut
Stuyvesant
Agnes
Mary Erskine
Rodolphus
Caroline
BY W. L. ALDEN
The Moral Pirates
The Cruise of the "Ghost"
The Cruise of the Canoe Club
The Adventures of Jimmy Brown
Jimmy Brown Trying to Find Europe
A New Robinson Crusoe
BY JAMES BARNES
The Blockaders
BY WILLIAM BLACK
The Four Macnicols
BY LEWIS CARROLL
Alice's
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THE NORTH-WEST AMAZONS
[Illustration: BORO MEDICINE MAN, WITH MY RIFLE]
THE NORTH-WEST
AMAZONS
NOTES OF SOME MONTHS SPENT
AMONG CANNIBAL TRIBES
BY
THOMAS WHIFFEN
F.R.G.S., F.R.A.I.
CAPTAIN H.P. (14TH HUSSARS)
NEW YORK
DUFFIELD AND COMPANY
1915
_Printed in Great Britain_
TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE
DR. ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE, O.M.
THESE NOTES ARE DEDICATED
PREFACE
In presenting to the public the results of my journey through the lands
about the upper waters of the Amazon, I make no pretence of challenging
conclusions drawn by such experienced scientists as Charles Waterton,
Alfred Russel Wallace, Richard Spruce, and Henry Walter Bates, nor to
compete with the indefatigable industry of those recent explorers Dr.
Koch-Grünberg and Dr. Hamilton Rice.
Some months of the years 1908 and 1909 were passed by me travelling in
regions between the River Issa and the River Apaporis where white men had
scarcely penetrated previously. In the remoter parts of these districts
the tribes of nomad Indians are frankly cannibal on occasion, and provide
us with evidence of a condition of savagery that can hardly be found
elsewhere in the world of the twentieth century. It will be noted that
this area includes the Putumayo District.
With regard to the references in footnotes and appendices, I have
inserted them to suggest where similarities of culture or variations of
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Transcriber's Note: For this text version, t with a dot underneath
is represented by [t.] as in "ba[t.]h".
THE
HINDOOS AS THEY ARE
A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS
AND
INNER LIFE OF HINDOO SOCIETY
IN BENGAL.
BY
SHIB CHUNDER BOSE.
WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY
THE REV. W. HASTIE, B. D.,
PRINCIPAL OF THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION, CALCUTTA.
London:
EDWARD STANFORD, 55, CHARING CROSS.
Calcutta:
W. NEWMAN & Co., 3, DALHOUSIE SQUARE.
1881.
PRINTED BY W. NEWMAN AND CO.,
AT THE CAXTON PRESS, 1, MISSION ROW, CALCUTTA.
[_The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved._]
CONTENTS.
_Page._
PREFATORY NOTE. i
INTRODUCTION. iii
I. THE HINDOO HOUSEHOLD 1
II. THE BIRTH OF A HINDOO 22
III. THE HINDOO SCHOOL-BOY 30
IV. VOWS OF HINDOO GIRLS 35
V. MARRIAGE CEREMONIES 41
VI. THE BROTHER FESTIVAL 90
VII. THE SON-IN-LAW FESTIVAL 92
VIII. THE DOORGA POOJAH FESTIVAL 93
IX. THE KALI POOJAH FESTIVAL 136
X. THE SARASWATI POOJAH 151
XI. THE FESTIVAL OF CAKES 155
XII. THE HOLI FESTIVAL 159
XIII. CASTE 165
XIV. A BRAHMIN 180
XV. THE BENGALEE BABOO 191
XVI. THE KOBIRAJ, OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN 209
XVII. HINDOO FEMALES 216
XVIII. POLYGAMY 227
XIX. HINDOO WIDOWS 237
XX. SICKNESS, DEATH, AND SHRAD OR FUNERAL CEREMONIES 246
XXI. SUTTEE, OR THE IMMOLATION OF HINDOO WIDOWS 272
XXII. THE ADMIRED STORY OF SABITRI BRATA, OR THE
WONDERFUL TRIUMPH OF EXALTED CHASTITY 280
APPENDIX 293
ERRATA.
Page 49, line 4, for "_Butterfly_," read, "_Prajapati_--the (Lord.)"
PREFATORY NOTE.
Babu Shib Chunder Bose is an enlightened Bengali, of matured conviction
and character, who, having received the stirring impulse of Western
culture and thought during the early period of Dr. Duff's work in the
General Assembly's Institution, has continued faithful to it through all
these long and changeful years. His extended and varied experience, his
careful habit of observation and contrast, his large store of general
reading and information, and his rare sobriety and earnestness of
judgment, eminently qualify him for lifting the veil from the inner
domestic life of his countrymen, and giving such an account of their
social and religious observances as may prove intelligible and
instructive to general English readers. In the sketches which he has now
produced we are presented with the first-fruits of "the harvest of a
quiet eye" that has long meditatively watched the strange ongoings of
this ancient society, and penetrated with living insight into the
springs and tendency of its startling changes.
Although I had no special claim to any right of judgment upon the
present phases of Hindu life, the writer took me early into his
confidence, and from the apparent quality and sincerity of his work I
had no hesitation in encouraging him to persevere, recommending him,
however, to leave historical speculation to others and to confine
himself to a faithful delineation of facts within his own experience.
While his manuscripts were passing through my hands, I took pains to
verify his descriptions by frequent reference to younger educated
natives, who, in all cases, confirmed the accuracy and reliability of
the details. The book will stand on its own merits with English readers,
whose happily increasing interest in the forms and movements of Hindu
life at this transitional period when the picturesque institutions and
habits of thousands of years are visibly and irrevocably passing away,
should gladly welcome its fresh and opportune representations. And all
who, viewing without regret the decay of the old order and animated by
the faith of nobler possibilities than it has ever achieved, are
actually engaged in the great work of religious regeneration and social
reform in India, should find much in these truthful but saddening
sketches to intensify their sympathies and give definite direction and
guidance to their best efforts.
W. HASTIE.
THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION,
_23rd March, 1881_.
INTRODUCTION.
In presenting the following volume to the Public, I am conscious of the
very great disadvantage I labor under in attempting to communicate my
thoughts through the medium of a language differing from my
mother-tongue both in the forms of construction and in the methods of
expression. My appeal to the indulgence of the public is based on the
ground of my work being true to its name. It professes to be a simple,
but faithful, delineation of the present state of Hindoo society in
Bengal, and especially in Calcutta, the Athens of Hindoosthan. I cannot
promise anything thrilling or sensational. My principal object is to
give as much information as possible regarding the moral, intellectual,
social and domestic economy
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CYRANO DE BERGERAC
A Play in Five Acts
by
Edmond Rostand
Translated from the French by Gladys Thomas and Mary F. Guillemard
The Characters
CYRANO DE BERGERAC
CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE
COUNT DE GUICHE
RAGUENEAU
LE BRET
CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX
THE CADETS
LIGNIERE
DE VALVERT
A MARQUIS
SECOND MARQUIS
THIRD MARQUIS
MONTFLEURY
BELLEROSE
JODELET
CUIGY
BRISSAILLE
THE DOORKEEPER
A LACKEY
A SECOND LACKEY
A BORE
A MUSKETEER
ANOTHER
A SPANISH OFFICER
A PORTER
A BURGHER
HIS SON
A PICKPOCKET
A SPECTATOR
A GUARDSMAN
BERTRAND THE FIFER
A MONK
TWO MUSICIANS
THE POETS
THE PASTRY COOKS
ROXANE
SISTER MARTHA
LISE
THE BUFFET-GIRL
MOTHER MARGUERITE
THE DUENNA
SISTER CLAIRE
AN ACTRESS
THE PAGES
THE SHOP-GIRL
The crowd, troopers, burghers (male and female), marquises, musketeers,
pickpockets, pastry-cooks, poets, Gascons cadets, actors (male and female),
violinists, pages, children, soldiers, Spaniards, spectators (male and
female), precieuses, nuns, etc.
Act I.
A Representation at the Hotel de Bourgogne.
The hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne, in 1640. A sort of tennis-court arranged
and decorated for a theatrical performance.
The hall is oblong and seen obliquely, so that one of its sides forms the back
of the right foreground, and meeting the left background makes an angle with
the stage, which is partly visible.
On both sides of the stage are benches. The curtain is composed of two
tapestries which can be drawn aside. Above a harlequin's mantle are the royal
arms. There are broad steps from the stage to the hall; on either side of
these steps are the places for the violinists. Footlights.
Two rows, one over the other, of side galleries: the highest divided into
boxes. No seats in the pit of the hall, which is the real stage of the
theater; at the back of the pit, i.e., on the right foreground, some benches
forming steps, and underneath, a staircase which leads to the upper seats. An
improvised buffet ornamented with little lusters, vases, glasses, plates of
tarts, cakes, bottles, etc.
The entrance to the theater is in the center of the background, under the
gallery of the boxes. A large door, half open to let in the spectators. On
the panels of this door, in different corners, and over the buffet, red
placards bearing the words, 'La Clorise.'
At the rising of the curtain the hall is in semi-darkness, and still empty.
The lusters are lowered in the middle of the pit ready to be lighted.
Scene 1.I.
The public, arriving by degrees. Troopers, burghers, lackeys, pages, a
pickpocket, the doorkeeper, etc., followed by the marquises. Cuigy,
Brissaille, the buffet-girl, the violinists, etc.
(A confusion of loud voices is heard outside the door. A trooper enters
hastily.)
THE DOORKEEPER (following him):
Hollo! You there! Your money!
THE TROOPER:
I enter gratis.
THE DOORKEEPER:
Why?
THE TROOPER:
Why? I am of the King's Household Cavalry, 'faith!
THE DOORKEEPER (to another trooper who enters):
And you?
SECOND TROOPER:
I pay nothing.
THE DOORKEEPER:
How so?
SECOND TROOPER:
I am a musketeer.
FIRST TROOPER (to the second):
The play will not begin till two. The pit is empty. Come, a bout with the
foils to pass the time.
(They fence with the foils they have brought.)
A LACKEY (entering):
Pst...Flanquin...!
ANOTHER (already there):
Champagne?...
THE FIRST (showing him cards and dice which he takes from his doublet):
See, here be cards and dice.
(He seats himself on the floor):
Let's play.
THE SECOND (doing the same):
Good; I am with you,
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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_.
Given the publication date (late 17th century), the capitalization,
spelling and punctuation of the original, is variable, There are a
number of instances where it is very likely a printer’s error has been
made, These have been corrected, and are summarized in the transcriber’s
note at the end of the text.
There are several full page panelled illustrations, which were not
included in the pagination, and have been moved slightly in the text in
order to avoid falling within a paragraph. Each panel serves as
illustration of a numbered chapter.
Several concessions to modernity are made. The text employed the long
‘s’ (‘ſ’), which has been rendered here as a modern ‘s’. Likewise the
ligature of ‘ct’ is given as the two separate characters.
[Illustration]
THE
~English Rogue~:
Continued in the Life of
MERITON LATROON,
AND OTHER
_EXTRAVAGANTS_.
Comprehending the most Eminent
CHEATS
OF
BOTH SEXES.
Read, _but do’nt_ Practice: _for the Author findes,
They which live_ Honest _have most quiet mindes_.
Dixero si quid forte jocosius hoc mihi juris
Cum & enia dabis.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The _Fourth_ Part.
----------------------------------------------------------------
With the Illustration of Pictures to every
Chapter.
----------------------------------------------------------------
_LONDON_,
Printed for _Francis Kirkman_, and are to be Sold by
_William Rands_ at the _Crown_ in _Duck-lane_. 1680.
THE
PREFACE.
Gentlemen
W_e see there is a necessity for our travailing in the common road or_
High-way _of_ Prefacing; _as if the Reader could neither receive nor
digest the_ Pabulum mentis, _or fatten by the mental nourishment,
without a preparatory. And yet we think it savours neither of civility,
nor good manners to fall on without saying something of a grace; but we
do not love that it should be so tedious, as to take away your stomack
from the meat, and therefore that we may not be condemned for that
prolixity we mislike in others, we shall briefly tell you how little we
value the favour of such_ Readers, _who take a pride to blast the_ Wits
_of others, imagining thereby to augment the reputation of their own:
What unexpected success we have obtained in the publication of the
former parts, will keep us from despairing, that in this we shall be
less fortunate than in the other. But although our_ Books _have been
generally received with great applause, and read with much delight and
satisfaction, at home and abroad, (having travailed many thousand miles)
yet we do not imagine them to be without their_ Errata’s, _for which
they have suffered very hard Correction; this is a younger brother to
the former, lawfully begotten, and if you will compare their faces, you
will find they resemble one another very much: Or else match this
pattern with the former cloth, you will find it of the same colour,
wool, and spinning, only it having passed the curious hands of an
excellent_ Artist, _he hath by shearing and dressing it made it somewhat
thinner, and withall finer, than was intended; however we hope it will
prove a good_ lasting piece, _and serviceable. You cannot imagin the
charge and trouble we have been at, in raising this building, which we
must acknowledg was erected upon an old foundation. From the actions of
others we gather’d matter, which materials we methodized, and so formed
this structure. We challenge nothing but the order; it may be called
ours, as the_ Bucentauro _may be now called the same it was some hundred
of years since, when the Pope therein first married the_ Duke _of_
Venice _to the_ Seas, _having been from that time so often mended and
repaired, as that it is thought, there is not left a chip of her
primitive building. So what remarkable stories, and strange relations we
have taken up on trust, by hear-say, or otherwise, we have so altered by
augmentation, or deminution, (as occasion served) that this may be more
properly called a new Composition, rather than an old Collection, of
what witty_ Extravagancies _are therein contained. As to the verity of
those ingenious Exploits, Subtle Contrivances, crafty projects, horrid
villanies_, &c. _we have little to say, but though we shall not assert
the truth of them all, yet there are none, which carry not circumstances
enough to make apparent their probability. And you may confidently
believe,
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[Transcriber's note: The source text contained inconsistencies in
spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and italicization; these
inconsistencies have been retained in this etext.]
Franco-Gallia:
OR, AN
ACCOUNT
OF THE
Ancient Free State
OF
_FRANCE_,
AND
Most other Parts of EUROPE,
before the Loss of their Liberties.
* * * * *
_Written Originally in Latin by the Famous Civilian_
FRANCIS HOTOMAN,
In the Year 1574.
_And Translated into_ English _by the Author of the_
Account of DENMARK.
* * * * *
The SECOND EDITION, with Additions, and
a _New Preface_ by the Translator.
* * * * *
LONDON:
Printed for Edward Valentine, at the Queen's Head
against St. Dunstan's Church, Fleetstreet, 1721.
Translated by
The Author of the _Account
of_ DENMARK.
The BOOKSELLER
TO THE
READER.
_The following Translation of the Famous_ Hotoman's Franco-Gallia _was
written in the Year 1705, and first publish'd in the Year 1711. The
Author was then at a great Distance from_ London, _and the Publisher of
his Work, for Reasons needless to repeat, did not think fit to print the
Prefatory Discourse sent along with the Original. But this Piece being
seasonable at all Times for the Perusal of_ Englishmen _and more
particularly at this Time, I wou'd no longer keep back from the Publick,
what I more than conjecture will be acceptable to all true Lovers of
their Country._
THE
TRANSLATOR's
PREFACE.
Many Books and Papers have been publish'd since the late _Revolution_,
tending to justify the Proceedings of the People of _England_ at that
happy juncture; by setting in a true Light our just Rights and
Liberties, together with the solid Foundations of our _Constitution:_
Which, in truth, is not ours only, but that of almost all _Europe_
besides; so wisely restor'd and establish'd (if not introduced) by the
_Goths_ and _Franks_, whose Descendants we are.
These Books have as constantly had some things, called _Answers_,
written to them, by Persons of different Sentiments; who certainly
either never seriously consider'd, that the were thereby endeavouring to
destroy their own Happiness, and overthrow her Majesty's Title to the
Crown: or (if they knew what they did) presumed upon the _Lenity_ of
that Government they decry'd; which (were there no better Reason) ought
to have recommended it to their Approbation, since it could patiently
bear with such, as were doing all they could to undermine it.
Not to mention the Railing, Virulency, or personal false Reflections in
many of those Answers, (which were always the Signs of a weak Cause, or
a feeble Champion) some of them asserted the _Divine Right_ of an
_Hereditary Monarch_, and the Impiety of _Resistance_ upon any Terms
whatever, notwithstanding any _Authorities_ to the contrary.
Others (and those the more judicious) deny'd positively, that sufficient
_Authorities_ could be produced to prove, that a _free People_ have a
_just Power_ to defend themselves, by opposing their _Prince_, who
endeavours to oppress and enslave them: And alledged, that whatever was
said or done tending that way, proceeded from a Spirit of _Rebellion_,
and _Antimonarchical Principles_.
To confute, or convince this last Sort of Arguers (the first not being
worthy to have Notice taken of them) I set about translating the
_Franco-Gallia_ of that most Learned and Judicious _Civilian_, _Francis
Hotoman_; a Grave, Sincere and Unexceptionable Author, even in the
Opinion of his Adversaries. This Book gives an Account of the Ancient
Free State of above Three Parts in Four of _Europe_; and has of a long
time appeared to me so convincing and instructive in those important
Points he handles, that I could not be idle whilst it remain'd unknown,
in a manner, to _Englishmen_: who, of all People living, have the
greatest Reason and Need to be thoroughly instructed in what it
contains; as having, on the one hand, the most to lose, and on the
other, the least Sense of their Right, to that, which hitherto they seem
(at least in a great measure) to
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Produced by Jim Weiler and Roger Frank
[Illustration: THE FLYING MERMAID SANK LOWER AND LOWER TOWARD THE
MYSTERIOUS HOLE.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Five Thousand Miles Underground
Or
The Mystery of the Centre of the Earth
BY
ROY ROCKWOOD
Author of "Through the Air to the North Pole," "Under
the Ocean to the South Pole," "The Rival
Ocean Divers," Etc.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
------------------------------------------------------------------------
GOOD BOOKS FOR BOYS
By Roy Rockwood
THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES
THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE
Or The Wonderful Cruise of the Electric Monarch
UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE
Or The Strange Cruise of the Submarine Wonder
FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND
Or The Mystery of the Centre of the Earth
Cloth. Illustrated
Price per volume, 60 cents
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1908, by
Cupples & Leon Company
Five Thousand Miles Underground
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
I WASHINGTON BACKS OUT
II THE FLYING MERMAID
III WASHINGTON DECIDES
IV WHAT DID MARK SEE?
V ATTACKED BY A WHALE
VI THE CYCLONE
VII A QUEER SAIL
VIII THE FLYING MERMAID DISABLED
IX THE MUTINY
X FOOLING THEIR ENEMIES
XI MYSTERIOUS HAPPENINGS
XII THE BIG HOLE
XIII DOWN INTO THE EARTH
XIV MANY MILES BELOW
XV IN THE STRANGE DRAUGHT
XVI THE NEW LAND
XVII A STRANGE COUNTRY
XVIII CAUGHT BY A STRANGE PLANT
XIX THE BIG PEACH
XX OVERHAULING THE SHIP
XXI THE FISH THAT WALKED
XXII THE SNAKE-TREE
XXIII THE DESERTED VILLAGE
XXIV THE GIANTS
XXV HELD BY THE ENEMY
XXVII A FRIEND INDEED
XXVII A GREAT JOURNEY
XXVIII THE TEMPLE OF TREASURE
XXIX BACK HOME--CONCLUSION
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND
CHAPTER I
WASHINGTON BACKS OUT
"Washington! I say Washington!"
Throughout a big shed, filled for the most part with huge pieces of
machinery, echoed the voice of Professor Amos Henderson. He did not look
up from a small engine over which he was bending.
"Washington! Where are you? Why don't you answer me?"
From somewhere underneath an immense pile of iron, steel and aluminum
came the voice of a <DW52> man.
"Yas sir, Perfesser, I'se goin' t' saggasiate my bodily presence in yo'
contiguous proximity an' attend t' yo' immediate conglomerated
prescriptions at th' predistined period. Yas, sir!"
"Well, Washington, if you had started when you began that long speech
you would have been at least half way here by this time. Hurry up! Never
mind tightning those bolts now. Find the boys. I need them to help me
with this engine. They must be around somewhere."
"I seen 'em goin' fishin' down by th' brook a little while ago,"
answered the <DW64>, crawling out from under what seemed to be a combined
airship and watercraft. "Jack says as how yo' gived him permission t'
occupy his indisputatious period of levity in endeavorin' t' extract
from th' liquid element some specimens of swimmin' creatures."
"If you mean I said he and Mark could go fishing in the brook, you're
right, Washington," replied the professor with a smile. "But you waste a
lot of time and breath trying to say it. Why don't you give up using big
words?"
"I reckon I was brought up t' it," replied the <DW52> man grinning from
ear to ear. He did not always use big words but when he did they were
generally the wrong ones. Sometimes, he spoke quite correctly.
"Well, I suppose you can't help it," resumed Mr. Henderson. "However,
never mind that. Find the boys and send them to me."
"With th' least appreciatableness amount of postponement," answered the
messenger, and he went out.
Washington White, who in color was just the opposite to his name, a
general helper and companion to Professor Henderson, found Mark Sampson
and Jack Darrow about a quarter of a mile from the big shed, which was
in the center of a wooded island off
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Produced by David Widger
DOMINIE DEAN
A Novel
By Ellis Parker Butler
1917
Fleming And Revell Company
My Dear Mr. Dare:
That day when you came to my home and suggested that I write the book to
which I now gratefully prefix this brief dedication, I little imagined
how real David Dean would become to me. I have just written the
last page of his story and I feel less that he is a creature of my
imagination than that he is someone I have known and loved all my life.
It was because there are many such men as David Dean, big of heart
and great in spirit, that you suggested the writing and helped me with
incident and inspiration. Your hope was that the story might aid those
who regret that such men as David Dean can be neglected and cast aside
after lives spent in faithful service, and who are working to prevent
such tragedies; my desire was to tell as truthfully as possible the
story of one such man.
While I have had a free hand in developing the character of David Dean,
I most gratefully acknowledge that the suggestion of the idea, and the
inspiration, were yours, and I hope I have not misused them.
Most sincerely,
Ellis Parker Butler
Flushing, N. Y.
I. 'THUSIA
[Illustration: 'Thusia 018]
DAVID DEAN caught his first glimpse of 'Thusia Fragg from the deck of
the "Mary K" steamboat at the moment when--a fledgling minister--he
ended his long voyage down the Ohio and up the Mississippi and was ready
to step on Riverbank soil for the first time.
From mid-river, as the steamer approached, the town had seemed but a
fringe of buildings at the foot of densely foliaged hills with here
and there a house showing through the green and with one or two church
spires rising above the trees. Then the warehouse shut off the view
while the "Mary K" made an unsensational landing, bumping against the
projecting piles, bells jingling in her interior, paddle wheels noisily
reversing and revolving again and the mate swearing at the top of
his voice. As the bow of the steamer pushed beyond the warehouse, the
sordidly ugly riverfront of the town came into view again--mud, sand,
weather-beaten frame buildings--while on the sandy levee at the side
of the warehouse lounged the twenty or thirty male citizens in shirt
sleeves who had come down to see the arrival of the steamer. From the
saloon deck they watched the steamer push her nose beyond the blank red
wall of the warehouse. Against the rail stood all the boat's passengers
and at David's side the friend he had made on the voyage up the river,
a rough, tobacco-chewing itinerant preacher, uncouth enough but wise in
his day and generation.
"Well, this is your Riverbank," he said. "Here ye are. Now, hold on!
Don't be in a hurry. There's your reception committee, I'll warrant
ye,--them three with their coats on. Don't get excited. Let 'em wait
and worry a minute for fear you've not come. Keep an even mind under
all circumstances, as your motter says--that's the idee. Let 'em wait.
They'll think all the better of ye, brother. Keep an even mind, hey?
You'll need one with that mastiff-jowled old elder yonder. He's going to
be your trouble-man."
David put down the carpetbag he had taken up. Of the three men warranted
to be his reception committee he recognized but one, Lawyer Hoskins, the
man who while East had heard David preach and had extended to him the
church's call. Now Hoskins recognized David and raised his hand in
greeting. It was at this moment that 'Thusia Fragg issued from the side
door of the warehouse, two girl companions with her, and faced toward
the steamboat. In the general gray of the day she was like a splash of
sunshine and her companions were hardly less vivid. 'Thusia Fragg was
arrayed in a dress that echoed the boldest style set forth by "Godey's
Ladies' Book" for that year of grace, 1860---a summer silk of gray and
gold stripes, flounced and frilled and raffled and fringed--and on her
head perched a hat that was sauciness incarnate. She was overdressed by
any rule you chose. She was overdressed for Riverbank and overdressed
for her father's income and for her own position, but she was a
beautiful picture as she stood leaning on her parasol, letting her eyes
range over the passengers grouped at the steamer's saloon deck rail.
As she stood there David raised his hand in answer to Lawyer Hoskins'
greeting and 'Thusia Fragg, smiling, raised a black-mitted hand and
waved at him in frank flirtation. Undoubtedly she had thought David had
meant his salutation for her. David turned from the rail, grasped his
companion's hand in hearty farewell, and, with his carpetbag in hand,
descended to the lower deck, and 'Thusia, preening like a peacock,
hurried with her girl companions to the foot of the gangplank to meet
her new conquest.
This was not the first time 'Thusia had flirted with the male passengers
of the packets. Few boats arrived without one or more young dandies
aboard, glad to vary the monotony of a long trip and ready to take part
in a brief flirtation with any 'Thusia and to stretch their legs ashore
while the sweating <DW64>s loaded and unloaded the cargo. When the stop
was long enough there was usually time for a brisk walk to the main
street and for hurried ice cream treats. The warning whistle of the
steamer gave ample time for these temporary beaux to reach the boat. The
'Thusias who could be found all up and down the river knew just the safe
distance to carry their cavaliers in order to bring them back to the
departing steamer in the nick of time, sometimes running the last
hundred yards at a dog trot, the girls stopping short with little cries
of laughter and shrill farewells, but reaching the boat landing in time
to wave parasols or handkerchiefs.
Most of these gayly garbed girls were innocent enough, although these
steamer flirtations were evidence that they were not sufficiently
controlled by home influences. Such actually bad girls as the town had,
did however, indulge in these touch-and-go-flirtations often enough
to cause the sober-minded to look askance at all the young persons who
flirted thus. While the more innocent, like 'Thusia, made use of these
opportunities only for their momentary flare of adventure, and while
the young men were seldom seen again, even on the return trip, the town
quite naturally classed all these girls as "gay"--whatever that meant.
As David stepped on the gangplank to leave the steamer he saw the three
girls, 'Thusia a little in advance, standing at the foot of the plank.
'Thusia herself, saucy in her defiance of the eyes she knew were upon
her, smiled up at him, her eyes beaming a greeting, her feet ready to
fall into step with his, and her lips ready to begin a rapid chattering
to carry the incident over the first awkward moment in case her "catch"
proved mutely bashful. She put out her hand, either in greeting or to
take David's arm, but David, his head held high, let his clear gray eyes
rest on her for an instant only and then glanced beyond her and passed
by. The girl with rage or shame and drew back her hand as if
she had unwittingly touched something hot with unprepared fingers. Her
companions giggled.
The incident was over in less time than is needed to tell of it. Henry
Fragg, 'Thusia's widowed father and agent for the steamers, seeing the
committee awaiting David, came from his office and walked toward them.
David strode up the plank dock to where Mr. Hoskins was holding out a
welcoming hand and was greeted and introduced to Sam Wiggett, Ned Long
and Mr. Fragg.
The greeting of Mr. Hoskins had a flourishing orational flavor; Sam
Wiggett--a heavy-set man--went so far as to exceed his usual gruff grunt
of recognition; and Ned Long, as usual, copied as closely as possible
Sam Wiggett's words and manner. Mr. Fragg's welcome was hearty and, of
the four, the only natural man-to-man greeting.
"New dominie, hey? Well, you'll like this town when you get to know it,"
he assured David. "Plenty of real folks here; good town and good people.
All right, Mack!" he broke off to shout to the mate of the "Mary K";
"yes, all those casks go aboard. Well, I'm glad to have met you, Mr.
Dean--"
'Thusia was still standing where David had passed her, her back toward
the town. Usually saucy enough, she was ashamed to turn and face those
clean gray eyes again. Her father saw her. "'Thusia!" he called.
She turned and came.
"'Thusia, this is our new dominie," Fragg said, placing his hand on her
arm. "This is my daughter, Mr. Dean. Aren't the women having some sort
of welcome hurrah up at the manse? Why don't you go up there and take a
hand in it, 'Thusia? Well, Mr. Dean, I'll see you many times, I hope."
'Thusia, all her sauciness gone, stood abashed, and David tried vainly
to find a word to ease the embarrassing situation. Mr. Wiggett relieved
it by ignoring 'Thusia utterly.
"Fragg will send your baggage up," he growled. "We'll walk. The women
will be impatient; they've heard the boat whistle. You come with me,
Dean, I want to talk to you."
He turned his back on 'Thusia and led David away.
"The less you have to do with that girl the better," were his first
words. "That's for your own good. Hey, Long?"
"My opinion, my opinion exactly!" echoed Mr. Long. "The less the better.
Yes, yes!"
"She's got in with a crowd of fast young fools," agreed Mr. Hoskins.
"Crazy after the men. Fragg ought to take her into the woodshed and use
a good stiff shingle on her about once every so often. He lets her run
too wild. No sense in it!"
What 'Thusia needed was a mother to see that her vivacity found a more
conventional outlet. There was nothing really wrong with 'Thusia. She
was young and fun-loving and possessed of more spirit than most of the
young women of the town. She was amazingly efficient. Had she been
a slower girl the housework of her father's home would have kept her
close, but she had the knack of speed. She sped through her housework
like a well-oiled machine and, once through with it, she fled from the
gloomy, motherless place to find what lively companionship she could.
It would have been better for her reputation had she been a sloven,
dawdling over her work and then moping away the short leisure at home.
Every small town has girls like 'Thusia Fragg. You may see them arm in
arm at the railway station as the trains pause for a few minutes, ready
to chaffer with any "nice-looking" young fellow in a car window. You see
them strolling past the local hotel, two or three in a group, ready to
fall into step with any young drummer who is willing to leave his chair
for a stroll. Some are bad girls, some are on the verge of the precipice
of evil, and some, like 'Thusia, are merely lovers of excitement and not
yet aware of the real dangers with which they play.
'Thusia, running the streets, was in danger of becoming too daring. She
knew the town talked about her and she laughed at its gossip. In such a
contest the rebel usually loses; in conspiring against smugness she ends
by falling into the ranks of immorality. In Riverbank before the Civil
War the danger to reputation was even greater than it is now; morality
was marked by stricter conventions.
'Thusia, despite her new dress and hat, did not linger downtown after
her meeting with David. She took the teasing of her two girl friends,
who made a great joke of her attempt to flirt with the new dominie,
good-naturedly, but she left them as soon as she could and walked home.
Her face burned with shame as she thought of the surprised glance David
had given her at the foot of the gangplank and, as she entered her
motherless home, she jerked her hat from her head and angrily threw
it the length of the hall. She stood a moment, opening and closing her
fists, like an angry animal, and then, characteristically, she giggled.
She retrieved her hat, put it on her head and studied herself in the
hall mirror. She tried several smiles and satisfied herself that they
were charming and then, unhooking her dress as she went, she mounted the
stairs. When she was in her room she threw herself on her bed and wept.
Her emotions were in a chaos; and out of this came gradually the feeling
that all she cared for now was to have those cool gray eyes of David's
look upon her approvingly. Everything she had done in her life seemed to
have been deliberately planned to make them disapprove of her. Weighing
her handicap calmly but urged by wounded pride, or desire, or love--she
did not know which--she set about her pitiful attempt to fascinate David
Dean.
The first Sunday that David preached in Riverbank 'Thusia bedecked
herself glowingly and sat in a pew where he could not fail to see her.
Since the death of his wife Mr. Fragg had taken to churchgoing, sitting
in a pew near the door so that he might slip out in case he heard the
whistle of an arriving steamboat, but 'Thusia chose a pew close under
the pulpit. After the service there was the usual informal hand-shaking
reception for the new dominie and 'Thusia waited until the aisles were
well cleared. Mr. Wiggett, Mr. Hoskins and one or two other elders and
trustees acted as a self-appointed committee to introduce David and, as
if intentionally, they built a barrier of their bodies to keep 'Thusia
from him. She waited, leaning against the end of a pew, but the half
circle of black coats did not open. As the congregation thinned and
David moved toward the door his protectors moved with him. The sexton
began closing the windows. The black coats herded David into the
vestibule and out upon the broad top step and still 'Thusia leaned
against the pew, but her eyes followed David.
"Come, come! We'll have to be moving along, dominie," growled Mr.
Wiggett impatiently, as David stopped to receive the congratulations of
one of the tireless-tongued old ladies. "Dinner at one, you know."
"Yes, coming!" said David cheerfully, and he gave the old lady a last
shake of the hand. "Now!" he said, and turned.
'Thusia, pushing between Mr. Wiggett and Mr. Hoskins, came with her hand
extended and her face glowing.
"I waited until they were all gone," she said eagerly. "I wanted to tell
you how splendid your sermon was. It was wonderful, Mr. Dean. I'm coming
every Sunday--"
David took her hand. He was glowing with the kindly greetings and
praises that had been showered upon him, and his happiness showed in his
eyes. He would have beamed on anyone at that moment, and he beamed on
'Thusia. He said something pleasantly conventional and 'Thusia chattered
on, still holding his hand, although in his general elation he was
hardly aware of this and not at all aware that the girl was clinging to
his hand so firmly that he could not have drawn it away had he tried.
She knew they made a striking picture as they stood on the top step and
she stood as dose to him as she could, so that she had to look up and
David had to look down. The departing congregation, looking back for
a last satisfactory glimpse of their fine new dominie, carried away a
picture of David holding 'Thusia's hand and looking down into her face.
"Come, come! Dinner's waiting!" Mr. Wiggett growled impatiently.
"Well, good-by, Mr. Dean," 'Thusia exclaimed. "My dinner is waiting,
too, and you must not keep me forever, you know. I suppose we'll see a
great deal of each other, anyway. Now--will you please let me have my
hand?"
She laughed and David dropped her hand. He blushed. 'Thusia ran down
the steps and David turned to see Mary Wiggett standing in the vestibule
door in an attitude best described as insultedly aloof.
Mr. Wiggett's face was red.
"_Her_ dinner waiting!" he cried. "She's got to go home and get it
before it waits. She's a forward, street-gadding hussy!"
"Father!" exclaimed his daughter.
"Well, she shan't come it over the dominie," he growled. "I'll speak to
Fragg about it."
David walked ahead with Mary Wiggett. He was no fool. He knew well
enough the troubles a young, unmarried minister has in store if he
happens to be presentable, and he knew he was not ill-favored. It is
not always--except in books--that the leading pillar of the church has a
daughter whose last chance of matrimony is the dominie. Mary Wiggett
had by no means reached her last chance. She was hardly eighteen--only
a year older than 'Thusia Fragg--and forty young men of Riverbank
would have been glad to have married her. She was a little heavier than
'Thusia, both in mind and body, and a little taller, almost matronly in
her development, but she was a splendid girl for all that, and more than
good-looking in a satisfying blond way. David was so far from being her
last chance, that she had not yet thought of David as a possible mate at
all, but it was a fact that David was to take dinner with the Wiggetts
and another fact that 'Thusia was not considered a proper person, and
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A DAUGHTER OF FIFE
By
AMELIA E. BARR
AUTHOR OF "JAN VEDDER'S WIFE"
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.--THE BEACHED BOAT
CHAPTER II.--THE UNKNOWN GUEST
CHAPTER III.--THE CAMPBELLS OF MERITON
CHAPTER IV.--MAGGIE AND ANGUS
CHAPTER V.--PARTING
CHAPTER VI.--OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE
CHAPTER VII.--MAGGIE
CHAPTER VIII.--THE BROKEN SIXPENCE
CHAPTER IX.--SEVERED SELVES AND SHADOWS
CHAPTER X.--MAGGIE'S FLIGHT
CHAPTER XI.--DRUMLOCH
CHAPTER XII.--TO THE HEBRIDES
CHAPTER XIII.--THE BROKEN TRYST
CHAPTER XIV.--THE MEETING PLACE
CHAPTER XV.--WOO'D AN' MARRIED AND A'
CHAPTER I.
THE BEACHING OF THE BOAT.
"Thou old gray sea,
Thou broad briny water,
With thy ripple and thy plash,
And thy waves as they lash
The old gray rocks on the shore.
With thy tempests as they roar,
And thy crested billows hoar,
And thy tide evermore
Fresh and free."
--Dr. Blackie.
On the shore of a little land-locked haven, into which the gulls and
terns bring tidings of the sea, stands the fishing hamlet of Pittenloch.
It is in the "East Neuk o' Fife," that bit of old Scotland "fronted with a
girdle of little towns," of which Pittenloch is one of the smallest
and the most characteristic. Some of the cottages stand upon the sands,
others are grouped in a steep glen, and a few surmount the lofty
sea-washed rocks.
To their inhabitants the sea is every thing. Their hopes and fears, their
gains and losses, their joys and sorrows, are linked with it; and the
largeness of the ocean has moulded their feelings and their characters.
They are in a measure partakers of its immensity and its mystery. The
commonest of their men have wrestled with the powers of the air, and the
might of wind, and wave, and icy cold. The weakest of their women have
felt the hallowing touch of sudden calamity, and of long, lonely,
life-and-death, watches. They are intensely religious, they hold
tenaciously to the modes of thought and speech, to the manner of living
and dressing, and to all the household traditions which they have
cherished for centuries.
Two voices only have had the power to move them from the even spirit of
their life--the voice of Knox, and the voice of Chalmers. It was among the
fishers of Fife that Knox began his crusade against popery; and from their
very midst, in later days, sprang the champion of the Free Kirk. Otherwise
rebellions and revolutions troubled them little. Whether Scotland's king
sat in Edinburgh or London--whether Prince Charles or George of Hanover
reigned, was to them of small importance. They lived apart from the battle
of life, and only the things relating to their eternal salvation, or their
daily bread, moved them.
Forty-two years ago there was no landward road to Pittenloch, unless you
followed the goats down the steep rocks. There was not a horse or cart in
the place; probably there was not a man in it who had ever seen a
haymaking. If you went to Pittenloch, you went by the sea; if you left it,
there was the same grand highway. And the great, bearded, sinewy men,
bending to the oars, and sending the boat spinning through clouds of
spindrift, made it, after all, a right royal road.
Forty-two years ago, one wild March afternoon, a young woman was standing
on the beach of Pittenloch. There was an ominous wail in the sea, telling
of the fierce tide yet to come; and all around her whirling wraiths of
vapor sweeping across the level sands. From a little distance, she
appeared like a woman standing amid gray clouds--a sombre, solid, figure;
whose attitude was one of grave thoughtfulness. Approaching nearer, it was
evident that her gaze was fixed upon a fishing boat which had been drawn
high upon the shingle
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Mayne Reid
A Memoir of his Life
By Elizabeth Reid
Published by Ward and Downey, 12 York Street, Convent Garden, London.
This edition dated 1890.
Mayne Reid, by Elizabeth Reid.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
MAYNE REID, BY ELIZABETH REID.
CHAPTER ONE.
EARLY LIFE. EMIGRATION TO AMERICA. EDGAR ALLAN POE.
To most of the world, Captain Mayne Reid is known only as a writer of
thrilling romances and works on natural history. It will appear in
these pages that he was also distinguished as a man of action and a
soldier, and the record of his many gallant deeds should still further
endear him to the hearts of his readers.
He was born in the north of Ireland, in April, 1818, at Ballyroney,
county Down, the eldest son of the Reverend Thomas Mayne Reid,
Presbyterian minister, a man of great learning and ability. His mother
was the daughter of the Reverend Samuel Rutherford, a descendant of the
"hot and hasty Rutherford" mentioned in Sir Walter Scott's "Marmion."
One of Mayne Reid's frequent expressions was: "I have all the talent of
the Reids and all the deviltry of the Rutherfords." He certainly may be
said to have inherited at least the "hot and hasty temper" of his
mother's family, for his father, the Reverend Thomas Mayne Reid, was of
a most placid disposition, much beloved by his parishioners, and a
favourite alike with Catholics and Protestants. It used to be said of
him by the peasantry, "Mr Reid is so polite he would bow to the ducks."
Several daughters had been born to them before the advent of their
first son. He was christened Thomas Mayne, but in after life dropped
the Thomas, and was known only as Mayne Reid. Other sons and daughters
followed, but Mayne was the only one destined to figure in the world's
history.
Young Mayne Reid early evinced a taste for war. When a small boy he was
often found running barefooted along the road after a drum and fife
band, greatly to his mother's dismay. She chided him, saying, "What
will the folks think to see Mr Reid's son going about like this?" To
which young Mayne replied, "I don't care. I'd rather be Mr Drum than
Mr Reid."
It was the ardent wish of both parents that their eldest son should
enter the Church; and, at the age of sixteen, Mayne Reid was sent to
college to prepare for the ministry of the Presbyterian Church, but
after four years' study, it was found that his inclinations were
altogether opposed to this calling. He carried off prizes in
mathematics, classics, and elocution; distinguished himself in all
athletic sports; anything but theology. It is recorded, on one occasion
when called upon to make a prayer, he utterly failed, breaking down at
the first few sentences. It was called by his fellow-students "Reid's
wee prayer."
Captain Mayne Reid has been heard to say, "My mother would rather have
had me settle down as a minister, on a stipend of one hundred a year,
than know me to be the most famous man in history."
The good mother could never understand her eldest son's ambition; but
she was happy in seeing her second son, John, succeed his father as
pastor of Closkilt, Drumgooland.
In the month of January, 1810, Mayne Reid first set foot in the new
world--landing at New Orleans. We quote his own words: "Like other
striplings escaped from college, I was no longer happy at home. The
yearning for travel was upon me, and without a sigh I beheld the hills
of my native land sink behind the black waves, not much caring whether I
should ever see them again."
Soon after landing, he thus expressed himself, showing how little store
he set upon his classical training as a stock-in-trade upon which to
begin the battle of life: "And one of my earliest surprises--one that
met me on the very threshold of my Transatlantic existence--was the
discovery of my own utter uselessness. I could point to my desk and
say, `There lie the proofs of my erudition; the highest prizes of my
college class.' But of what use are they? The dry theories I had been
taught had no application to the purposes of real life. My logic was
the prattle of the parrot. My classic lore lay upon my mind like
lumber; and I was altogether about as well prepared to struggle with
life--to benefit either my fellow-men or myself--as if I had graduated
in Chinese mnemonics. And, oh! ye pale professors, who drilled me in
syntax and scansion, ye would deem me ungrateful indeed were I to give
utterance to the contempt and indignation which I then felt for ye;
then, when I looked back upon ten years of wasted existence spent under
your tutelage; then, when, after believing myself an educated
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Produced by MWS, Paul Marshall and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Notes:
Underscores "_" before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_
in the original text.
Equals signs "=" before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold=
in the original text.
The carat symbol "^" is used to indicate a superscript.
Small capitals have been converted to BLOCK capitals.
Antiquated spellings have been preserved.
Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations
in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered.
Answers are provided at the end of the book to numbered questions,
however in the original text, numbers 237 to 241 were omitted
for some reason.
“LAUGH AND GROW FAT.”
THE PUZZLE KING.
AMUSING ARITHMETIC.
BOOK-KEEPING BLUNDERS.
COMMERCIAL COMICALITIES.
CURIOUS “CATCHES.” PECULIAR PROBLEMS.
PERPLEXING PARADOXES.
QUAINT QUESTIONS. QUEER QUIBBLES.
SCHOOL STORIES.
INTERESTING ITEMS.
Tricks with Figures, Cards, Draughts, Dice, Dominoes,
Etc., Etc., Etc.
By JOHN SCOTT,
Author of “How to Become Quick at Figures,” “Doctrine of Chance,”
“Tank Calculator,” “Cyanide Vat Calculator,” &c., &c.
INSTRUCTIVE and AMUSING.
Copyright.
Brisbane,
H. J. DIDDAMS & CO., Printers and Publishers, Elizabeth Street,
MDCCCXCIX.
PREFACE.
A puzzle is not solved, impatient sirs,
By peeping at its answer in a trice:
When Gordius, the ploughboy King of Phrygia,
Tied up his implements of husbandry
In the far-famed knot, rash Alexander
Did not undo by cutting it in twain.
It is hoped that this little book may prove useful, not only in
connection with puzzles for home amusement, but that by inducing
people to consider the various difficulties met with in business and
trade some at least may be led to greater success in dealing with the
practical puzzles and problems of everyday life.
It is the special desire of the author to produce a “sugar-coated
mathematical pill,” as he feels convinced that many can more easily
grasp the truth when it is put before them in a light manner than
when brought forward in the usual orthodox fashion.
No pains have been spared to make the PUZZLE KING the best
of its kind yet produced, and the author here wishes to thank his
many friends who have so kindly assisted him. It would be well-nigh
impossible to individualize; but especial thanks are due to Thos.
Finney, Esq., M.L.A. (Brisbane), for the interest he has manifested
throughout, and the kindly help he has so often rendered the author.
It might afford our readers some pleasure to know that this work
is entirely Australian. The printers, artist, and author are all
colonial-born, and the production of the former two, at any rate,
will compare favourably with that of any others.
The engravings throughout have been in the hands of Mr. Murray Fraser
and staff, whose experience in this special art has tended to make
the book more attractive than it otherwise would have been.
The author is not above receiving any suggestions or contributions in
the way of peculiar puzzles or commercial comicalities, which might
enhance the value of the book. Intending contributors are invited
to communicate to the address given below, and can rest assured
that they will be remunerated according to the merits of their
communications.
THE AUTHOR.
_44, Pitt Street, Sydney._
_Refer to Appendix for Answers to numbered Problems._
READING BIG NUMBERS.
Wonderful Calculations.
Although we are accustomed to speak in the most airy fashion of
millions, billions, &c., and “rattle” off at a breath strings of
figures, the fact still remains that we are unable to grasp their
vastness. Man is finite--numbers are infinite!
ONE MILLION
Is beyond our conception. We can no more realise its immensity, than
we can the tenth part of a second. It should be a pleasing fact
to note that commercial calculations do not often extend beyond
millions; generally speaking, it is in the realm of speculative
calculation only, such as probability, astronomy, &c., that we are
brought face to face with these unthinkable magnitudes.
Who, for instance, could form the slightest idea that the odds
against a person tossing a coin in the air so as to bring a head
200 times in succession are
160693804425899027554196209234116260522202993782792835301375
(over I decillion, &c.) to 1 against him? Suppose that all the men,
women and children on the face of the earth were to keep on tossing
coins at the rate of a million a second for a million years, the
odds would still be too great for us to realise against any one
person succeeding in performing the above feat, and yet the number
representing the odds would be only half as long as the one already
given.
Or, who could understand the other equally astounding fact that
Sirius, the Dog-star, is 130435000000000 miles from the earth, or
even that the earth itself is 5426000000000000000000 tons in weight.
WHAT IS A BILLION
In Europe and America, the billion is 1,000,000,000--a thousand
millions--but in Great Britain and her Colonies, a billion is
reckoned 1,000,000,000,000--a million millions: a difference which
should perhaps be worth remembering in the case of francs and dollars.
One billion sovereigns placed side by side would extend to a distance
of over 18,000,000 miles, and make a band which would pass 736 times
round the globe, or, if lying side by side, would form a golden belt
around it over 26 ft. wide; if the sovereigns were placed on top of
each other flatways, the golden column would be more than a million
miles in height.
Supposing you could count at the rate of 200 a minute; then, in
one hour, you could count 12,000--if you were not interrupted. Well,
12,000 an hour would be 288,000 a day; and a year, or 365 days,
would produce 105,120,000. But this would not allow you a single
moment for sleep, or for any other business whatever. If Adam at
the beginning of his existence, had begun to count, had continued to
count, and were counting still, he would not even now, according to
the usually supposed age of man, have counted nearly enough. To
count a billion, he would require 9,512 years, 342 days, 5 hours and 20
minutes, according to the above reckoning. But suppose we were to
allow the poor counter twelve hours daily for rest, eating and sleeping,
he would need 19,025 years, 319 days, 10 hours and 40 minutes to
count one billion.
A comparison--
One million seconds = less than 12 days
" billion " = over 31,000 years
A GOOD CATCH.
1.--Ask a person to write, in figures, eleven thousand, eleven
hundred and eleven. This often proves very amusing, few being able to
write it correctly at first.
2.--If the eighth of £1 be 3s, what will the fifth of a £5 note be?
=BOTHERSOME BILLS=.
Defter at the anvil than at the desk was a village blacksmith who
held a customer responsible for a little account running:
To menden to broken sorspuns 4 punse
To handl to a kleffr 6 "
To pointen 3 iron skurrs 3 "
To repairen a lanton 2 "
A klapper to a bel 8 "
Medsen attenden a cow sick the numoraman a bad i 6 "
To arf a da elpen a fillup a taken in arvist 1 shillin
To a hole da elpen a fillup a taken in arvist 2 "
----------
Totle of altigether 5 shillins and fippunse.
That the honest man’s services had been requisitioned for the mending
of two saucepans, putting a new handle to an old cleaver, sharpening
three blunted iron skewers, repairing a lantern, and providing a bell
with a clapper is clear enough; and by resolving “a fillup” into “A.
Phillip,” all obscurity is removed from the last two items, but “the
numoraman a bad i” is a nut the reader must crack for himself.
ONE FROM A PUBLICAN.
He stabled a horse for a night, and sent it home next day with a bill
debiting the owner:
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Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed.
Some typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text.
Illustration markings have been moved from mid-paragraph for ease of
reading. The printed French has not been corrected or modernized.
(etext transcriber's note)
CHANTILLY
[Illustration: _Mary Stuart at the age of nine years from the drawing in
the Musée Condé at Chantilly._]
CHANTILLY
IN HISTORY AND ART
BY LOUISE M. RICHTER
(MRS. J. P. RICHTER)
WITH PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1913
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
TO MY DEAR FRIEND
MRS. LUDWIG MOND
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
PREFACE
My first visit to Chantilly was in April 1904, when the Exhibition of
the French Primitives at the Pavillon Marsan, following close on that at
Bruges, raised interest and comment far outside the boundaries of
France. I visited the Musée Condé with the intention of studying some
more examples of the French fifteenth-and sixteenth-century art which
had so much attracted me in Paris.
The high expectations I had conceived were not disappointed, and the
result was that my studies in that marvellous collection were prolonged.
Weeks grew into months. The Limbourgs, Jean Fouquet, and the Clouets
held me in their spell; the Château of Chantilly, with the history of
its famous owners, aroused my interest more and more.
Through the great courtesy of the late M. Anatol Gruyer and of M.
Gustave Macon, Directors of the Musée Condé, I was given access to all
the art-treasures within its walls and I was allowed to while away my
time with the famous miniatures and drawings and with the pictures in
which I was so much interested. Tranquil and undisturbed, often quite
alone, meeting now and then only the furtive glance of one or other of
the Museum attendants, who were always ready at hand to be of service,
I was enabled to pursue my studies without interruption, owing to the
great kindness of my friend M. Macon. The excellent Library, too, was at
my disposal, as well as the manuscripts in the Cabinet des Livres.
Nor was that all. When at the end of the day the Museum doors were
closed I could walk in the vast park of the Château along its shady
avenues and watch the swans gliding on the silent waters, whilst the
autumn leaves were the sport of the varying breezes. In that unbroken
solitude Time, now long past, brought before me once more kings and
queens, courtiers and warriors, ladies of beauty and fame: and amid my
reveries I seemed to recognise the well-known faces whose
representations I had just left in the galleries within. For was it not
here, in these woods and on these lakes, that they had lived and feasted
in the manner recorded in the chronicles of their time?
Thus, irresistibly attracted by degrees, I conceived the idea of writing
about the history and the art at Chantilly: and I undertook a task which
grew gradually in my hands to dimensions that at first I had not
anticipated.
My chief study, as mentioned above, was intended to be on the French
fifteenth-and sixteenth-century artists which the Duc d'Aumale so
successfully collected. To the Italian and the Northern Schools and the
later French periods at the Musée Condé I have purposely given but a
passing mention, since they are equally well or better represented in
other galleries.
The Bibliography which I have appended shows that much has been written
on early French Art in France, especially during the last fifteen years;
and I feel greatly indebted to authors such as Comte Leopold Delisle,
Comte Paul Durrieu, MM. George Lafenestre, Anatol Gruyer, Louis Dimier,
Gustave Macon, Moreau Nelaton, Sir Claude Phillips, Mr. Roger Fry and
others, by whose works I have greatly profited, as also by my husband's
expert knowledge. But no book exactly covering this ground has as yet
been written in the English language.
More than special acknowledgment and thanks are due to Mr. Robert H.
Hobart Cust for his help and valuable suggestions.
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The After House
by
Mary Roberts Rinehart
CONTENTS
I I PLAN A VOYAGE
II THE PAINTED SHIP
III I UNCLENCH MY HANDS
IV I RECEIVE A WARNING
V A TERRIBLE NIGHT
VI IN THE AFTER HOUSE
VII WE FIND THE AXE
VIII THE STEWARDESS'S STORY
IX PRISONERS
X "THAT'S MUTINY"
XI THE DEAD LINE
XII THE FIRST MATE TALKS
XIII THE WHITE LIGHT
XIV FROM THE CROW'S NEST
XV A KNOCKING IN THE HOLD
XVI JONES STUMBLES OVER SOMETHING
XVII THE AXE IS GONE
XVIII A BAD COMBINATION
XIX I TAKE THE STAND
XX OLESON'S STORY
XXI "A BAD WOMAN"
XXII TURNER'S STORY
XXIII FREE AGAIN
XXIV THE THING
XXV THE SEA AGAIN
CHAPTER I
I PLAN A VOYAGE
By the bequest of an elder brother, I was left enough money to see me
through a small college in Ohio, and to secure me four years in a
medical school in the East. Why I chose medicine I hardly know.
Possibly the career of a surgeon attracted the adventurous element in
me. Perhaps, coming of a family of doctors, I merely followed the line
of least resistance. It may be, indirectly but inevitably, that I
might be on the yacht Ella on that terrible night of August 12, more
than a year ago.
I got through somehow. I played quarterback on the football team, and
made some money coaching. In summer I did whatever came to hand, from
chartering a sail-boat at a summer resort and taking passengers, at so
much a head, to checking up cucumbers in Indiana for a Western pickle
house.
I was practically alone. Commencement left me with a diploma, a new
dress-suit, an out-of-date medical library, a box of surgical
instruments of the same date as the books, and an incipient case of
typhoid fever.
I was twenty-four, six feet tall, and forty inches around the chest.
Also, I had lived clean, and worked and played hard. I got over the
fever finally, pretty much all bone and appetite; but--alive. Thanks to
the college, my hospital care had cost nothing. It was a good thing: I
had just seven dollars in the world.
The yacht Ella lay in the river not far from my hospital windows. She
was not a yacht when I first saw her, nor at any time, technically,
unless I use the word in the broad sense of a pleasure-boat. She was a
two-master, and, when I saw her first, as dirty and disreputable as are
most coasting-vessels. Her rejuvenation was the history of my
convalescence. On the day she stood forth in her first coat of white
paint, I exchanged my dressing-gown for clothing that, however loosely
it hung, was still clothing. Her new sails marked my promotion to
beefsteak, her brass rails and awnings my first independent excursion
up and down the corridor outside my door, and, incidentally, my return
to a collar and tie.
The river shipping appealed to me, to my imagination, clean washed by
my illness and ready as a child's for new impressions: liners gliding
down to the bay and the open sea; shrewish, scolding tugs; dirty but
picturesque tramps. My enthusiasm amused the nurses, whose ideas of
adventure consisted of little jaunts of exploration into the abdominal
cavity, and whose aseptic minds revolted at the sight of dirty sails.
One day I pointed out to one of them an old schooner, red and brown,
with patched canvas spread, moving swiftly down the river before a
stiff breeze.
"Look at her!" I exclaimed. "There goes adventure, mystery, romance!
I should like to be sailing on her."
"You would have to boil the drinking-water," she replied dryly. "And
the ship is probably swarming with rats."
"Rats," I affirmed, "add to the local color. Ships are their native
habitat. Only sinking ships don't have them."
But her answer was to retort that rats carried bubonic plague, and to
exit, carrying the sugar-bowl. I was ravenous, as are all convalescent
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BACTERIA IN DAILY LIFE
BY
MRS. PERCY FRANKLAND
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL MICROSCOPICAL SOCIETY; HONORARY MEMBER OF BEDFORD
COLLEGE, UNIVERSITY OF LONDON;
JOINT AUTHOR OF "MICRO-ORGANISMS IN WATER," "THE LIFE OF PASTEUR,"
ETC.
"Spirits, when they please,
Can either sex assume, or both; so soft
And uncompounded is their essence pure,
Not tied or manacled with joint or limb,
Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones,
Like cumbrous flesh; but, in what shape they choose,
Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure,
Can execute their aery purposes,
And works of love or enmity fulfil."
MILTON.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1903
_All rights reserved_
Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with
underscores; _italics_. The cover of this ebook was created by the
transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain.
PREFACE
The title of this little volume sufficiently explains its contents; it
only remains to add that much of the text has already appeared from
time to time in the form of popular articles in various magazines. It
has, however, been carefully revised and considerably added to in
parts where later researches have thrown further light upon the
subjects dealt with.
G. C. FRANKLAND
NORTHFIELD, WORCESTERSHIRE,
_November, 1902_
CONTENTS
PAGE
BACTERIOLOGY IN THE VICTORIAN ERA 1
WHAT WE BREATHE 34
SUNSHINE AND LIFE 65
BACTERIOLOGY AND WATER 93
MILK DANGERS AND REMEDIES 118
BACTERIA AND ICE 149
SOME POISONS AND THEIR PREVENTION 168
BACTERIA IN DAILY LIFE
BACTERIOLOGY IN THE VICTORIAN ERA
A little more than sixty years ago the scientific world received with
almost incredulous astonishment the announcement that "beer yeast
consists of small spherules which have the property of multiplying,
and are therefore a living and not a dead chemical substance, that
they further _appear_ to belong to the vegetable kingdom, and to be in
some manner intimately connected with the process of fermentation."
When Cagniard Latour communicated the above observations on yeast to
the Paris Academy of Sciences on June 12, 1837, the whole scientific
world was taken by storm, so great was the novelty, boldness, and
originality of the conception that these insignificant particles,
hitherto reckoned as of little or no account, should be endowed with
functions of such responsibility and importance as suggested by
Latour.
At the time when Latour sowed the first seeds of this great gospel of
fermentation, started curiously almost simultaneously across the Rhine
by Schwann and Kuetzing, its greatest subsequent apostle and champion
was but a schoolboy, exhibiting nothing more than a schoolboy's truant
love of play and distaste for lessons. Louis Pasteur was only a lad of
fifteen, buried in a little town in the provinces of France, whose
peace of mind was certainly not disturbed, or likely to be, by rumours
of any scientific discussion, however momentous, carried on in the
great, far-distant metropolis. Yet, some thirty and odd years later,
there was not a country in the whole world where Pasteur's name was
not known and associated with those classical investigations on
fermentation, in the pursuit of which he spent so many years of his
life, and which have proved of such incalculable benefit to the world
of commerce as well as science.
Thanks to Pasteur, we are no longer in doubt as to the nature of yeast
cells; so familiar, in fact, have we become with them, that at the
dawn of the twentieth century we are able to select at will those
particular varieties for which we have a predilection, and employ
those which will produce for us the special flavour we desire in our
wines or in our beers.
Large and splendidly-equipped laboratories exist for the express
purpose of studying all kinds and descriptions of yeasts, for finding
out their characteristic functions, and cultivating them with all the
tenderness and care that a modern gardener bestows upon the rarest
orchids.
All this is now an
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THE DAUGHTER OF HEAVEN
BY
PIERRE LOTI AND JUDITH GAUTIER
Translated by RUTH HELEN DAVIS
CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD.
10, ORANGE STREET
LEICESTER SQUARE, W. C.
1913
Preface
Thoroughly to understand China, one must realize that it has for three
hundred years cherished in its heart a deep and continually bleeding
wound. When the country was conquered by the Manchus of Tartary, the
ancient dynasty of the Mings was forced to yield the throne to the Tzin
invaders, but the Chinese nation never ceased to mourn the ancient
dynasty nor to hope for its restoration. Revolution is therefore a
permanent thing in China--a fire which smoulders eternally, breaking
into flame in one province only to be smothered and blaze out again
presently in another.
No doubt the Yellow Empire is too immense to permit of complete
understanding among the revolutionaries, or of collective effort to
break off the Tartar yoke. Several times, nevertheless, the Chinese
race has been near to victory. When, some twenty years ago, certain
events, which Europe never really understood, brought about an upheaval
in China, the revolutionaries, victorious for a time, proclaimed at
Nang-King an emperor of Chinese blood and of the dynasty of the Mings.
His name was Ron-Tsin-Tse, which means: The Final Flowering, and by
the faithful his era was called Tai-Ping-Tien-Ko, which is as much as
to say: The Empire of the Great Celestial Peace. He reigned seventeen
years, concurrently with the Tartar Emperor at Pekin and almost within
the shadow of that city.
Later, the authorities forced a complete suppression of his history:
all records of it were confiscated and burned, and men were forbidden,
under penalty of death, even to utter his name. Here, however, is the
translation of a passage relating to him which occurs in a voluminous
report addressed by the Tartar general Tsen-Konan-Wei, to the Emperor
at Pekin:
"When the revolutionaries rose in the province of Chan-Tung (he
says) they possessed themselves of sixteen provinces and six hundred
cities. Their guilty chief and his criminal friends had become really
formidable. All their generals fortified themselves in the places they
had taken, and not until they had stood three years of siege were we
again Masters in Nang-King. At this time the rebel army numbered more
than two hundred thousand men, but not one of them would surrender.
The moment they perceived themselves lost they set fire to the palace
and burned themselves alive. Many of the women hanged or strangled
themselves, or threw themselves into the lakes in the gardens. However,
I succeeded in making one young woman prisoner, and pressed her to tell
me where the Emperor was. 'He is dead,' she replied; 'vanquished, he
poisoned himself.' But immediately the new Emperor was proclaimed in
the person of his son, Hon-Fo-Tsen. She led me to the old Emperor's
tomb, which I ordered broken open. In it was found in fact the
Emperor's body, enveloped in a shroud of yellow silk embroidered with
dragons. He was old, bald, and had a white mustache. I caused his body
to be burned and his ashes to be thrown to the winds. Our soldiers
destroyed all that remained within the walls: there were three days and
nights of killing and pillage. However, one troop of several thousands
of rebels, very well-armed, succeeded in escaping from the city,
dressed in the costumes of our dead, and it is to be feared that the
new Emperor was able to escape with them."
This Emperor, Hon-Fo-Tsen, who, in fact, did succeed in fleeing from
Nang-King, was looked upon by the real Chinese as their legitimate
sovereign, and his descendants in secret no doubt reigned after him
uninterruptedly.
Several years ago a very remarkable man, who seemed to incarnate in
himself the new China, dreamed of a pacific and genuine reconciliation
of the two inimical races. (He had many dreams indeed: one of them,
for instance, that of founding the United States of the World.) He
conceived the almost unrealizable project of converting to his ideas
the Emperor at Pekin himself and of securing his help to reform China
without the spilling of any blood. His name was Kan-You-Wey. To get
near the Emperor he opened a school at Pekin in 1889.
Many rumors, though very conflicting ones, were in circulation
concerning the personality of this invisible Emperor Kwang-Su, kept as
he was under strict guardianship, like a captive in the heart of his
palace and so unknown to everyone. Some versions declared him alert,
well-read, interested in modern things; others represented him as
feeble in body and spirit, given to excesses and incapable of action.
Kan-You-Wey would believe only in the favorable version: he knew
besides What the ministers of the Dowager Regent were worth, masters
with her of the Imperial power. He pitied the Imperial victim. His
whole heart turned toward his sovereign because he was unhappy. How
could he reach him in his quadrupled
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Transcriber's Note
This etext differs from the original as follows. The oe ligature
is represented as [oe]. Minor inconsistencies of punctuation and
capitalization have been corrected, as well as these definite
typographical errors: amunition to ammunition; anemonies to anemones;
betweeen to between; bear to bare; Chedder to Cheddar; considerble to
considerable; Farenheit to Fahrenheit; heigth to height; millepedes to
millipedes; mugworth to mugwort; pewets to pewits; pontentilla to
potentilla; purpuerea to purpurea; venemous to venomous. Besides that
the corrections mentioned in errata at the end have also been made.
Because the author favored what are now seen as antiquated and eccentric
spellings, many other questionable words have been left unchanged.
Examples of these are goal for gaol, grove(d) for groove(d),
encumberance, bason, chesnut, brocoli, transome.
GUERNSEY
PICTORIAL DIRECTORY
AND
STRANGER'S GUIDE.
EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS WOOD-CUTS.
BY
THOMAS BELLAMY.
[Illustration: Ivy-Gate.]
GUERNSEY:
H. BROUARD, STAR-OFFICE, BORDAGE-STREET.
1843.
Entered at Stationers' Hall.
PRINTED BY T. J. MAUGER.
CONSTITUTION-STEPS.
PREFACE.
The Guides hitherto tendered the public, having in some measure fallen
short of furnishing the Stranger with a just notion of the island and its
interior beauty, from want of illustration and leisure for natural
observation; the Author of the following desultory pages, flatters himself
by simplicity of arrangement, utility of matter, and a few tail-pieces
strongly illustrative of native scenery, to introduce a bearing towards the
same: and here it is but just to remark that his daily memoranda during his
temporary sojourn has been the chief source of his information, which, if
deemed of sufficient importance to attract the attention of strangers, he
solicits for it that candour, which he has some right to claim when he
labours for the welfare of others, and is anxious only for the information
of the visitor. It now only remains to render a fit apology for the
inaccuracy of some of the wood-cuts, and the disproportion of others; which
if duly considered, in connexion with the work, as being executed by one
hand, together with the views, within the short space of five months,
perhaps will be sufficient. However, the Author takes this opportunity of
mentioning, that should he be so far encouraged as to issue a second
edition, he trusts his friends and others will favor him with their
drawings, especially upon such things appertaining unto the antiquity,
architecture, botany and natural history of the island. Hitherto, at the
suggestion of others, he laments having borrowed many of his views from
by-gone works, which on being compared with the original of the day, have
fallen considerably short of truth, especially as regards the improved
character of sylvan and other extensive ornamental innovation; and, in this
respect, he alludes chiefly to the country churches, which though in all
their architectural portions are confessedly correct, nevertheless in the
back scenery are somewhat defective. He likewise acknowledges with much
pleasure that he is indebted for three of the engravings to two gentlemen,
whose native talents are an ornament to the island; he alludes to Mr F. C.
Lukis, and Mr Charles Mac Culloch; also for some excellent information from
Col. Lane, Mr John Allaire, jun., and several others.
To conclude, the stranger is begged to understand, that as he may
occasionally fall in with the word "Baillif," it is used in direct
contradistinction to the English word "Bailiff," which if properly rendered
signifies a menial or subordinate officer, whereas "Baillif" of Guernsey
carries the important meaning of chief magistrate or judge.
_Guernsey, August 7, 1843._
GUERNSEY
Is situate in the great gulf or bay of St Michael, in the English Channel,
7 to 8 leagues West of the Norman coast, but subject to the British Crown,
and frequently treated of in topographical works, under article
Southamptonshire. It lieth between 49d. 24m. and 49d. 33m. North lat., and
2d. 32m. and 2d. 48m. West longitude. It is distant about 108 miles
South-West of Southampton; 99 miles South-West of Portsmouth; 90 miles
South-East from Plymouth, and 61 miles South of Portland. In relation to
others of the Channel Islands, it is 7 leagues North of Jersey; 5 leagues
South-West of Alderney; and 2 leagues West of Serk. The two last are
dependencies of Guernsey, as are also Herm and Jethou, which serve to
shelter the roadstead, that otherwise would be of no importance. In
approach, the shores of Guernsey do not present the same attractions as
those of Jersey, being altogether more sterile, and of a less fertile
aspect. The form of the island is triangular, and its whole circumference
upwards of thirty miles, and is deeply indented with commodious bays and
harbours. Its length from North-East to South-West is twelve miles; its
breadth from North to South about nine, and contains twenty-four square
miles, or fifteen thousand three hundred and sixty acres, and about four
thousand and seventy houses, with a fluctuating population of from 25,000
to 30,000 inhabitants.
The face of the country is varied with gentle risings and hills, being
watered with springs, ponds, and fine clear gravelly brooks, many of which
are constantly employed in turning over-shot mill-wheels. On the North or
vale side, the coast, with the exception of a few cairns and risings, is
generally low and flat, making a gradual elevation from a level very little
above high-water mark, to the South side, which is beautifully intersected
by deep ravines and craggy hills, for the most part covered with wild
herbage, on the whole forming a true miniature representation of Welch
scenery, the crags rising precipitately to the height of 280 feet above the
level of the sea.
For considerable distances off the land, the island is circumgirt with
sharp sunken rocks, which together with the line of breast-works,
batteries, and a regular and efficiently supplied fort and citadel, renders
it upon the whole almost impregnable.
[Illustration: A View of rough Sea, near Richmond.]
Formerly, in the Valle, there was a noble sheet of water, extending for
upwards of two miles in length and one in breadth, which of late years, by
great labour and expence has been drained off. At present, it is an inland
marsh, but a vestige of the pool may still be seen throughout the winter
months, as inundating a space of about three acres a little to the West of
Noirmont, and which may be plainly seen from Grandes Roques and the road
leading thereto.
[Illustration: Grande Mare.]
The inhabitants have still a few small and convenient fish-ponds, and one
the property of Mr Arnold, near the Valle church, when full, is upwards of
three acres, has pleasure boats on it, and abounds in excellent fish, such
as tench, mullet and eels; which latter, properly speaking, are the only
kind that inhabit the rivulets and fresh water pools of the island.
[Illustration: Mr Arnold's House and Pool.]
The houses lie scattered throughout the island; mansions, farm-houses, and
even cottages being excellently built; and if not pleasantly surrounded
with orchards, trees and shrubs, at least with neat little gardens,
flowers-beds and bowers. Most of the mansions have green-houses, for a late
paper says, "in our country rambles we took many a peep into the
kitchen-gardens and green-houses, and were highly gratified in observing
the paths syringed and fresh, and sickly plants watered at the roots with
liquid manure: and were careful to note in thinning them they went over
twice instead of all at once; which we understood to be much better, as
they avoided wounding them. They examined newly budded stocks, which were
secured by tying to the tree, and encouraged by removing suckers and buds
beneath. They disbudded wall-trees, and nailed in the young shoots, as they
became sufficiently advanced; moved earth frequently with the spade under
the walls, and slipped off all infected shoots," &c.
Indeed, whatsoever direction one takes from St Peter-Port, the capital and
only town in the island, he is sure to fall in with indications of wealth,
refinement and good taste; and if he cannot exactly decide on the splendour
of architectural finish, he will at least discern something beyond the
usual order, that evidently mark competence and ease. This unique
appearance is not only confined to the houses, for with scarcely an
exception every detached house has some elegant ground tastefully arranged
into a lawn replete with beautiful and rare shrubs, which, for the most
part, are kept in tolerable condition, and their foliage allowed to droop
gracefully on either side of a small winding carriage-road. In this
respect, perhaps the Grange, the Rohais, and the St Andrew's roads may
appear most conspicuous, and even the cottages, in these, and many other
parts of the suburbs, assume a very different aspect to what they usually
do in England and the sister-isle; for here, even in the less respectable
parts of the town, small cottages, having gardens, afford generally a good
display of jonquils, <DW29>s, ranunculuses, polyanthus, hyacinths, daisies,
anemones, &c., which in some front gardens are excellently arranged,
whereas in others, from lack of room, are entirely omitted, but have in
their place a mossy lawn and a few exotic shrubs, elegantly arranged, which
considerably heightens their respectability and effect.
[Illustration: Mont Durant House.]
The residence of the wealthy Mr John Allaire, proprietor of the island of
Jethou, and other considerable estates in Guernsey.
On the opposite side of the road, is Summerland, the property of Tupper
Carey, Esq., remarkable for its castellated style of building, some gay
green views, and a variety of elegant adjoining grounds
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THE ART OF BOOKBINDING. A PRACTICAL TREATISE.
BY JOSEPH W. ZAEHNSDORF.
TECHNOLOGICAL HANDBOOKS.
ART OF BOOKBINDING.
TECHNOLOGICAL HANDBOOKS.
1. DYEING AND TISSUE-PRINTING. By William Crookes, F.R.S., V.P.C.S.
_5s._
2. GLASS MANUFACTURE. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, by H. J. Powell, B.A.
(Whitefriars Glass Works); CROWN AND SHEET GLASS, by Henry Chance, M.A.
(Chance Bros., Birmingham); PLATE GLASS, by H. G. Harris, Assoc. Memb.
Inst. C.E. 3_s._ 6_d._
3. COTTON SPINNING; Its Development, Principles, and Practice. By R.
Marsden, Editor of the “Textile Mercury.” With an Appendix on Steam
Engines and Boilers. 3rd edition, revised, 6_s._ 6_d._
4. COAL-TAR COLOURS, The Chemistry of. With special reference to their
application to Dyeing, &c. By Dr. R. Benedikt. Translated from the
German by E. Knecht, Ph.D. 2nd edition, enlarged, 6_s._ 6_d._
5. WOOLLEN AND WORSTED CLOTH MANUFACTURE. By Professor Roberts
Beaumont. 2nd edition, revised. 7_s._ 6_d._
6. PRINTING. By C. T. Jacobi, Manager of the Chiswick Press. _5s._
7. BOOKBINDING. By J. W. Zaehnsdorf.
9. COTTON WEAVING. By R. Marsden. _In preparation._
[Illustration: FLORENTINE.
Small folio.]
_TECHNOLOGICAL HANDBOOKS._
THE ART
OF
BOOKBINDING.
A PRACTICAL TREATISE.
BY
JOSEPH W. ZAEHNSDORF.
WITH PLATES AND DIAGRAMS.
_SECOND EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED._
LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS,
YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1890.
CHISWICK PRESS:—C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.
DEDICATED TO
HUGH OWEN, ESQ., F.S.A.,
AS A SLIGHT ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS COUNSEL AND
FRIENDSHIP, AND IN ADMIRATION OF HIS
KNOWLEDGE OF
BOOKBINDING.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
The first edition of this book was written for the use of amateurs, but
I found that amongst the members of the trade my little volume had a
large sale, and in a short time the edition became exhausted. Repeated
applications for the book have induced me to issue this second edition.
I have adhered to the arrangement of the first, but a great deal of
fresh matter has been added, which I trust will be found useful.
Should any of my fellow-workmen find anything new to them I shall be
satisfied, knowing that I have done my duty in spreading such knowledge
as may contribute towards the advancement of the beautiful art of
bookbinding.
I have to record my obligations to those gentlemen who have assisted me
by courteously describing the various machines of their invention with
which the book is illustrated. The object, however, of illustrating
this work with engravings of machines is simply to recognize the fact
that books are bound by machinery. To a mechanical worker must be left
the task of describing the processes used in this method.
LIST OF PLATES.
FLORENTINE … _Frontispiece_
GROLIER … xiv
GASCON … xvi
RENAISSANCE … 110
ANTIQUE WITH GOLD LINE … 112
DEROME … 114
GROLIER … 132
MAIOLI … 134
CONTENTS.
PART I.—FORWARDING.
CHAPTER I. Folding: Refolding — Machines — Gathering … 3–8
CHAPTER II. Beating and Rolling: Machines … 9–12
CHAPTER III. Collating: Interleaving … 13–19
CHAPTER IV. Marking up and Sawing in … 20–23
CHAPTER V. Sewing: Flexible — Ordinary … 23–32
CHAPTER VI. Forwarding: End Papers — Cobb Paper — Surface Paper —
Marbled Paper — Printed and other Fancy Paper — Paste Paper …
33–36
CHAPTER VII. Pasting up … 36–37
CHAPTER VIII. Putting on the End Papers … 38–41
CHAPTER IX. Trimming … 41–44
CHAPTER X. Gluing up … 45–46
CHAPTER XI. Rounding … 46–48
CHAPTER XII. Backing … 48–51
CHAPTER XIII. Mill-boards … 51–57
CHAPTER XIV. Drawing-in and Pressing … 57–59
CHAPTER XV. Cutting … 59–66
CHAPTER XVI. Colouring the Edges: Sprinkled Edges — Colours for
Sprinkling — Plain Colouring — Marbled Edges — Spot Marble — Comb or
Nonpareil Marble — Spanish Marble — Edges — Sizing … 67–77
CHAPTER XVII. Gilt Edges: The Gold Cushion — Gold Knife — Burnishers —
Glaire Water or Size — Scrapers — The Gold Leaf — Gilt on Red — Tooled
Edges — Painted Edges … 78–83
CHAPTER
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[Transcriber's Note: Footnotes have been numbered and moved to the end.]
The Sylphs of the Seasons with Other Poems.
By
W. Allston.
Contents.
The Sylphs of the Seasons; a Poet's Dream
The Two Pointers; a Tale
Eccentricity
The Paint King
Myrtilla: addressed to a Lady, who lamented that she had never been in love
To a Lady who spoke slightingly of Poets
Sonnet on a Falling Group in the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, in the
Cappella Sistina
Sonnet on the Group of the Three Angels before the Tent of Abraham, by
Raffaelle, in the Vatican
Sonnet, on seeing the Picture of AEolus, by Peligrino Tibaldi, in the
Institute at Bologna
Sonnet on Rembrant; occasioned by his Picture of Jacob's Dream
Sonnet on the Luxembourg Gallery
Sonnet to my venerable Friend, the President of the Royal Academy
The Mad Lover at the Grave of his Mistress
First Love: a Ballad
The Complaint
Will, the Maniac: a Ballad
The Sylphs of the Seasons;
_A Poet's Dream._
Prefatory Note to The Sylphs of the Seasons.
As it may be objected to the following Poem, that some of the images there
introduced are not wholly peculiar to the Season described, the Author
begs leave to state, that, both in their selection and disposition, he was
guided by that, which, in his limited experience, was found to be the
Season of their greatest impression: and, though he has not always felt
the necessity of pointing out the collateral causes by which the effect
was increased, he yet flatters himself that, in general, they are
sufficiently implied either by what follows or precedes them. Thus, for
instance, the _running brook_, though by no means peculiar, is
appropriated to Spring; as affording by its motion and _seeming_
exultation one of the most lively images of that spirit of renovation
which animates the earth after its temporary suspension during the Winter.
By the same rule, is assigned to Summer the _placid lake_, &c. not because
that image is never seen, or enjoyed, at any other season; but on account
of its affecting us more in Summer, than either in the Spring, or in
Autumn; the indolence and languor generally then experienced disposing us
to dwell with particular delight on such an object of repose, not to
mention the grateful idea of coolness derived from a knowledge of its
temperature. Thus also the _evening cloud_, exhibiting a fleeting
representation of successive objects, is, perhaps, justly appropriated to
Autumn, as in that Season the general decay of inanimate nature leads the
mind to turn upon itself, and without effort to apply almost every image
of sense or vision of the imagination,* to its own transitory state.
If the above be admitted, it is needless to add more; if it be not, it
would be useless.
The Sylphs of the Seasons.
Long has it been my fate to hear
The slave of Mammon, with a sneer,
My indolence reprove.
Ah, little knows he of the care,
The toil, the hardship that I bear,
While lolling in my elbow-chair,
And seeming scarce to move:
For, mounted on the Poet's steed,
I _there_ my ceaseless journey speed
O'er mountain, wood, and stream:
And oft within a little day
'Mid comets fierce 'tis mine to stray,
And wander o'er the Milky-way
To catch a Poet's dream.
But would the Man of Lucre know
What riches from my labours flow?--
A DREAM is my reply.
And who for wealth has ever pin'd,
That had a World within his mind,
Where every treasure he may find,
And joys that never die!
One night, my task diurnal done,
(For I had travell'd with the Sun
O'er burning sands, o'er snows)
Fatigued, I sought the couch of rest;
My wonted pray'r to Heaven address'd;
But scarce had I my pillow press'd
When thus a vision rose.
Methought within a desert cave,
Cold, dark, and solemn as the grave,
I suddenly awoke.
It seem'd of sable Night the cell,
Where, save when from the ceiling fell
An oozing drop, her silent spell
No sound had ever broke.
There motionless I stood alone,
Like some strange monument of stone
Upon a barren wild;
Or like, (so solid and profound
The darkness seem'd that wall'd me round)
A man that's buried under ground,
Where pyramids are pil'd.
Thus fix'd, a dreadful hour I past,
And now I heard, as from a blast,
A voice pronounce my name:
Nor long upon my ear it dwelt,
When round me 'gan the air to melt.
And motion once again
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MASTERPIECES IN COLOUR
EDITED BY--T. LEMAN HARE
WHISTLER
1834-1903
IN THE SAME SERIES
ARTIST. AUTHOR.
VELAZQUEZ. S. L. BENSUSAN.
REYNOLDS. S. L. BENSUSAN.
TURNER. C. LEWIS HIND.
ROMNEY. C. LEWIS HIND.
GREUZE. ALYS EYRE MACKLIN.
BOTTICELLI. HENRY B. BINNS.
ROSSETTI. LUCIEN PISSARRO.
BELLINI. GEORGE HAY.
FRA ANGELICO. JAMES MASON.
REMBRANDT. JOSEF ISRAELS.
LEIGHTON. A. LYS BALDRY.
RAPHAEL. PAUL G. KONODY.
HOLMAN HUNT. MARY E. COLERIDGE.
TITIAN S. L. BENSUSAN.
MILLAIS. A. LYS BALDRY.
CARLO DOLCI. GEORGE HAY.
GAINSBOROUGH. MAX ROTHSCHILD.
TINTORETTO. S. L. BENSUSAN.
LUINI. JAMES MASON.
FRANZ HALS. EDGCUMBE STALEY.
VAN DYCK. PERCY M. TURNER.
LEONARDO DA VINCI. M. W. BROCKWELL.
RUBENS. S. L. BENSUSAN.
WHISTLER. T. MARTIN WOOD.
HOLBEIN. S. L. BENSUSAN.
BURNE-JONES. A. LYS BALDRY.
VIGEE LE BRUN. C. HALDANE MACFALL.
CHARDIN. PAUL G. KONODY.
FRAGONARD. C. HALDANE MACFALL.
MEMLINC. W. H. J. & J. C. WEALE.
CONSTABLE. C. LEWIS HIND.
RAEBURN. JAMES L. CAW.
JOHN S. SARGENT T. MARTIN WOOD.
_Others in Preparation._
[Illustration: PLATE I.--OLD BATTERSEA BRIDGE. Frontispiece
(In the National Gallery)
This nocturne was bought by the National Collections Fund from
the Whistler Memorial Exhibition. It was one of the canvases
brought forward during the cross-examination of the artist in the
Whistler v. Ruskin trial.]
Whistler
BY T. MARTIN WOOD
ILLUSTRATED WITH EIGHT REPRODUCTIONS IN COLOUR
[Illustration]
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK
NEW YORK: FREDERICK A. STOKES CO.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Plate
I. Old Battersea Bridge Frontispiece
In the National Gallery
Page
II. Nocturne, St. Mark's, Venice 14
In the possession of John J. Cowan, Esq.
III. The Artist's Studio 24
In the possession of Douglas Freshfield, Esq.
IV. Portrait of my Mother 34
In the Luxembourg Galleries, Paris
V. Lillie in Our Alley 40
In the possession of John J. Cowan, Esq.
VI. Nocturne, Blue and Silver 50
In the possession of the Hon. Percy Wyndham
VII. Portrait of Thomas Carlyle 60
In the Corporation Art Galleries, Glasgow
VIII. In the Channel 70
In the possession of Mrs. L. Knowles
[Illustration]
I
At the time when Rossetti and his circle were foregathering chiefly at
Rossetti's house, quiet Chelsea scarcely knew how daily were
associations added which will always cluster round her name. Whistler's
share in those associations is very large, and he has left in his
paintings the memory of many a night, as he returned beside the river.
Before Whistler painted it, night was more opaque than it is now. It had
been viewed only through the window of tradition. It was left for a man
of the world coming out of an artificial London room to paint its
stillness, and also to show us that we ourselves had made night more
beautiful, with ghostly silver and gold; and to tell us that the dark
bridges that sweep into it do not interrupt--that we cannot interrupt,
the music of nature.
The figure of Whistler emerges: with his extreme concern as to his
appearance, his careful choice of clothes, his hair so carefully
arranged. He had quite made up his mind as to the part he intended to
play and the light in which he wished to be regarded.
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THE POETICS OF ARISTOTLE
By Aristotle
A Translation By S. H. Butcher
[Transcriber's Annotations and Conventions: the translator left
intact some Greek words to illustrate a specific point of the original
discourse. In this transcription, in order to retain the accuracy of
this text, those words are rendered by spelling out each Greek letter
individually, such as {alpha beta gamma delta...}. The reader can
distinguish these words by the enclosing braces {}. Where multiple
words occur together, they are separated by the "/" symbol for clarity.
Readers who do not speak or read the Greek language will usually neither
gain nor lose understanding by skipping over these passages. Those who
understand Greek, however, may gain a deeper insight to the original
meaning and distinctions expressed by Aristotle.]
Analysis of Contents
I 'Imitation' the common principle of the Arts of Poetry.
II The Objects of Imitation.
III The Manner of Imitation.
IV The Origin and Development of Poetry.
V Definition of the Ludicrous, and a brief sketch of the rise of
Comedy.
VI Definition of Tragedy.
VII The Plot must be a Whole.
VIII The Plot must be a Unity.
IX (Plot continued.) Dramatic Unity.
X (Plot continued.) Definitions of Simple and Complex Plots.
XI (Plot continued.) Reversal of the Situation, Recognition, and
Tragic or disastrous Incident defined and explained.
XII The 'quantitative parts' of Tragedy defined.
XIII (Plot continued.) What constitutes Tragic Action.
XIV (Plot continued.) The tragic emotions of pity and fear should
spring out of the Plot itself.
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
POPULAR NOVELS.
BY
_MRS. MARY J. HOLMES_.
TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.
ENGLISH ORPHANS.
HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE.
'LENA RIVERS.
MEADOW BROOK.
DORA DEANE.
COUSIN MAUDE.
MARIAN GREY.
EDITH LYLE.
DAISY THORNTON.
CHATEAU D'OR.
QUEENIE HETHERTON.
BESSIE'S FORTUNE.
DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.
HUGH WORTHINGTON.
CAMERON PRIDE.
ROSE MATHER.
ETHELYN'S MISTAKE.
MILBANK.
EDNA BROWNING.
WEST LAWN.
MILDRED.
FORREST HOUSE.
MADELINE.
CHRISTMAS STORIES.
GRETCHEN (_New_).
"Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her
books are always entertaining, and she has the rare faculty of
enlisting the sympathy and affections of her readers, and of holding
their attention to her pages with deep and absorbing interest."
G.W. DILLINGHAM, PUBLISHER,
SUCCESSOR TO
G.W. CARLETON & Co., New York.
GRETCHEN.
A Novel.
BY
MRS. MARY J. HOLMES,
AUTHOR OF
TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.--DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.--MILBANK.--ENGLISH
ORPHANS.--'LENA RIVERS.--ETHELYN'S MISTAKE.--HUGH
WORTHINGTON.--MADELINE.--WEST LAWN.--EDNA
BROWNING.--MARIAN GREY.--BESSIE'S
FORTUNE, ETC.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
_G.W. Dillingham, Publisher_,
SUCCESSOR TO G.W. CARLETON & CO.
LONDON: S. LOW, SON & CO.
MDCCCLXXXVII.
COPYRIGHT, 1887,
BY DANIEL HOLMES.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
STEREOTYPED BY
SAMUEL STODDER,
42 DEY STREET, N.Y.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Telegram 9
II. Arthur Tracy 12
III. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Tracy 19
IV. Getting Accustomed to It 24
V. At the Park 32
VI. The Cottage in the Lane 38
VII. The Party 45
VIII. Arthur 48
IX. Who is Gretchen? 60
X. Arthur Settles Himself 72
XI. The Storm 78
XII. The Tramp House 87
XIII. The Woman 94
XIV. Little Jerry 108
XV. Jerry at the Park 114
XVI. The Funeral, and After 122
XVII. "Mr. Crazyman, Do You Want Some Cherries?" 131
XVIII. Arthur and Jerry 139
XIX. Arthur's Plan 158
XX. The Working of Arthur's Plan 164
XXI. Mrs. Tracy's Diamonds 175
XXII. Searching For the Diamonds 184
XXIII. Arthur's Letter 198
XXIV. Ten Years Later 209
XXV. The Two Faces in the Mirror 216
XXVI. Maude's Letter 224
XXVII. "He Cometh Not," She Said 230
XXVIII. In Shannondale 237
XXIX. Why Harold Did Not Go to Vassar 249
XXX. The Walk Home 258
XXXI. At Home 264
XXXII. The Next Day 269
XXXIII. At the Park House 283
XXXIV. Under the Pines with Tom 287
XXXV. The Garden Party 293
XXXVI. Out in the Storm 301
XXXVII. Under the Pines with Dick 307
XXXVIII. At Le Bateau 312
XXXIX. Maude 326
XL. "Do You Know What You Have Done?" 336
XLI. What Jerrie Found under the Floor 341
XLII. Harold and the Diamonds 352
XLIII. Harold and Jerrie 366
XLIV. Jerrie Clears Harold 372
XLV. What Followed 379
XLVI. The Letters 382
XLVII. Arthur 389
XLVIII. What They were Doing and had Done in Shannondale 393
XLIX. Telling Arthur 404
L. The Flower Fadeth 416
LI. Under the Pines with Harold 422
LII. "For Better, For Worse." 427
LIII. After Two Years 441
GRETCHEN.
CHAPTER I.
THE TELEGRAM.
"BREVOORT HOUSE, NEW YORK, Oct. 6th, 18--.
"To Mr. Frank Tracy, of Tracy Park, Shannondale.
"I arrived in the Scotia this morning, and shall take the train for
Shannondale at 3 P.M. Send some one to the station to meet us.
"ARTHUR TRACY."
This was the telegram which the clerk in the Shannondale office received
one October morning, and dispatched to the Hon. Frank Tracy, of Tracy
Park, in the quiet town of Shannondale, where our story opens.
Mr. Frank Tracy, who, since his election to the State Legislature for
two successive terms, had done nothing except to attend political
meetings and make speeches on all public occasions, had an office in
town, where he usually spent his mornings, smoking, reading the papers,
and talking to Mr. Colvin, his business agent and lawyer, for, though
born in one of the humblest New England houses, where the slanting roof
almost touched the ground in the rear, and he could scarcely stand
upright in the chamber where he slept, Mr. Frank Tracy was a man of
leisure now, and as he dashed along the turnpike in his handsome
carriage, with his driver beside him, people looked admiringly after
him, and pointed him out to strangers as the Hon. Mr. Tracy, of Tracy
Park, one of the finest places in the county. It is true it did not
belong to him, but he had lived there so long that he looked upon it as
his, while his neighbors, too, seemed to have forgotten that there was a
Mr. Arthur Tracy, who might at any time come home to claim his own and
demand an account of his brother's stewardship. And it was this Arthur
Tracy, whose telegram announcing his return from Europe was read by his
brother with feelings of surprise and consternation.
"Not that everything isn't fair and above board, and he is welcome to
look into matters as much as he likes," Frank said to himself, as he sat
staring at the telegram, while the cold chills ran up and down his back
and arms. "Yes, he can examine all Colvin's books; he will find them
straight as a string, and didn't he tell me to take what I thought right
as remuneration for looking after his property while he was gallivanting
over the world; and if he objects that I have taken too much, I can at
once transfer those investments in my name to him. No, it is not that
which affects me so; it is the suddenness of the thing, coming without
warning, and to night of all nights, when the house will be full of
carousing and champagne. What will Dolly say? Hysterics, of course, if
not a sick headache. I don't believe I can face her till she has had a
little time to brace up. Here, boy, I want you!" and he rapped on the
window at a young lad who happened to be passing with a basket on his
arm. "I want you to do an errand for me," he continued, as the boy
entered the office and, removing his cap, stood respectfully before him.
"Take this telegram to Mrs. Tracy, and here is a dime for you."
"Thank you; but I don't care for the money," the boy said. "I was going
to the park anyway to tell Mrs. Tracy that grandma is sick and can't go
there to-night."
"Sick! What is the matter?" Mr. Tracy asked, in dismay, feeling that
here was a fresh cause of trouble and worry for his wife.
"She catched cold yesterday fixing up mother's grave," the boy replied;
and, as if the mention of that grave had sent Mr. Tracy's thoughts
straying backward to the past, he looked thoughtfully at the child for a
moment, and then said:
"How old are you, Harold?"
"Ten, last August," was the reply; and Mr. Tracy continued:
"You do not remember your mother?"
"No, sir; only a great crowd, and grandma crying so hard," was Harold's
reply.
"You look like her," Mr. Tracy said.
"Yes, sir," Harold answered; while into his frank, open face there came
an expression of regret for the mother who had died when he was three
years old, and whose life had been so short and sad.
"Now, hurry off with the telegram, and mind you don't lose it. It is
from my brother. He is coming to night."
"Mr. Arthur Tracy, who sent the monument for my mother--is he coming
home? Oh, I am so glad!" Harold exclaimed, his face lighting up with
joy, as he put the telegram in his pocket and started for Tracy Park,
wondering if he should encounter Tom, and thinking that if he did, and
Tom gave him any chaff, he should thresh him, or try to.
"Darn him!" he said to himself, as he recalled the many times when Tom
Tracy, a boy about his own age, had laughed at him for his poverty and
coarse clothes. "He ain't any better than I am, if he does wear velvet
trousers and live in a big house. 'Tain't his'n; it's Mr. Arthur's, and
I
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[Illustration: Cover art]
THE OUTCASTE
BY
F. E. PENNY
AUTHOR OF
"THE SANYASI," "THE RAJAH," "THE MALABAR MAGICIAN," ETC.
SPECIAL EDITION
For sale only in India and the British Colonies
LONDON
CHATTO & WINDUS
1912
[_The Portrait on the Cover is reproduced from a Miniature by G. I.
Penny_]
_All rights reserved_
DEDICATED
TO THE
STUDENTS OF HINDU THEOLOGY AND ETHICS
WHOSE WRITINGS
HAVE ASSISTED ME TO TELL
THIS STORY
_The scene is laid in the Native State of Chirakul._
CHIRAPORE ... Chief Town of Chirakul.
ANANDA..... A Convert to Christianity.
BOPAUL..... Friend of Ananda, and of the same Caste.
COOMARA .... Married to Bopaul's Sister.
DR. WENASTON.. Principal of the Maharajah's College at Chirapore.
EOLA WENASTON . His Sister.
PROFESSOR TWYFORD
MRS. HULVER .. Housekeeper to Dr. Wenaston.
DORAMA..... Ananda's Wife.
PANTULU .... His Father.
GUNGA ..... His Mother.
SOOBA ..... His Uncle.
MAYITA..... Coomara's Widow.
THE OUTCASTE
CHAPTER I
The aviation ground was thronged with spectators. Eyes were turned
skywards and men held their breath. Women uttered ejaculations, drawn
unconsciously from them in their intense excitement. The wind blew
gustily with an upward sweep that sent dead leaves and fragments of
paper into the air. A furious blast heralding the coming storm seized
one of the aviators as he was in the act of turning. It seemed to
shake him with a living enmity. Under the violent motion the tips of
the delicate wings of his machine snapped. He recognised the
seriousness of the accident; and the breathless multitude watched his
efforts to avoid impending catastrophe. As well might the dying bird,
winged by the October sportsman, try to sustain its arrested flight.
The machine ceased its horizontal movement, folded its broken planes
about its struggling guide, and dropped almost vertically to the ground.
Some, fascinated by the horror of it all, stared at the falling wreck.
Others withdrew their gaze, but could not shut their ears to the thud
and crash in which the earthly life of a human being came to an abrupt
end.
The hush was followed by a murmur as emotion found expression in speech
and exclamation. Many of the women shed tears; some screamed; a few
fainted. Ten minutes later there was a general stir as the sightseers,
sick at heart, began to depart.
Eola Wenaston beckoned to her brother, who stood at a little distance
talking to a couple of men. He approached the motor car into which she
had just stepped. Before she could speak he hastened to reassure her,
anticipating the question that was on the lips of all.
"It's all right; the man is not dead. Of course he has had a shock,
falling from such a height, and the machine is smashed to atoms. You
need not be nervous----"
"I'm not nervous. It was a horrid sight, but I'm not troubled with
nerves. The man must be dead after such a fall."
"Well, no one can say how----"
She interrupted him with a touch of impatience born of anxiety.
"Would you mind going home by train? Mrs. Greenford is thoroughly
unhinged. She is in that tent over there crying her heart out, and she
ought to be taken away at once."
"She doesn't know him, does she?"
"Yes, slightly. It appears that he dined with her and her husband last
night."
"What do you wish to do?"
"Drive her home at once; but it leaves you to go by rail. You won't
mind giving her your seat in the motor?"
She did not doubt for a moment that he would object. The car was a new
purchase made by Wenaston on his arrival in England on furlough. He
intended to take it back to India on his return to his work.
"Not a bit,"
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[Illustration: CAPTAIN COLES’S NEW IRON TURRET-SHIP-OF-WAR.]
KNOWLEDGE
FOR THE TIME:
A Manual
OF
READING, REFERENCE, AND CONVERSATION ON SUBJECTS OF LIVING
INTEREST, USEFUL CURIOSITY, AND AMUSING RESEARCH:
HISTORICO-POLITICAL INFORMATION.
PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION.
DIGNITIES AND DISTINCTIONS.
CHANGES IN LAWS.
MEASURE AND VALUE.
PROGRESS OF SCIENCE.
LIFE AND HEALTH.
RELIGIOUS THOUGHT.
Illustrated from the best and latest Authorities.
BY JOHN TIMBS, F.S.A.
AUTHOR OF CURIOSITIES OF LONDON, THINGS NOT GENERALLY KNOWN,
ETC.
_LONDON_:
Lockwood and Co., 7 Stationers’-hall Court.
MDCCCLXIV.
TO THE READER.
The great value of contemporary History--that is, history written
by actual witnesses of the events which they narrate,--is now
beginning to be appreciated by general readers. The improved
character of the journalism of the present day is the best evidence
of this advancement, which has been a work of no ordinary labour.
Truth is not of such easy acquisition as is generally supposed;
and the chances of obtaining unprejudiced accounts of events are
rarely improved by distance from the time at which they happen.
In proportion as freedom of thought is enlarged, and liberty of
conscience, and liberty of will, are increased, will be the amount
of trustworthiness in the written records of contemporaries. It is
the rarity of these high privileges in chroniclers of past events
which has led to so many obscurities in the world’s history, and
warpings in the judgment of its writers; to trust some of whom has
been compared to reading with “ spectacles.” And, one of
the features of our times is to be ever taking stock of the amount
of truth in past history; to set readers on the tenters of doubt,
and to make them suspicious of perversions; and to encourage a
whitewashing of black reputations which sometimes strays into an
extreme equally as unserviceable to truth as that from which the
writer started.
It is, however, with the view of correcting the Past by _the light
of the Present_, and directing attention to many salient points
of Knowledge for the Time, that the present volume is offered to
the public. Its aim may be considered great in proportion to the
limited means employed; but, to extend what is, in homely phrase,
termed a right understanding, the contents of the volume are of a
mixed character, the Author having due respect for the emphatic
words of Dr. Arnold: “Preserve proportion in your reading, keep
your views of Men and Things extensive, and _depend upon it a mixed
knowledge is not a superficial one_: as far as it goes, the views
that it gives are true; but he who reads deeply in one class of
writers only, gets views which are almost sure to be perverted, and
which are not only narrow but false.”
Throughout the Work, the Author has endeavoured to avail himself of
the most reliable views of leading writers on Events of the Day;
and by seizing new points of Knowledge and sources of Information,
to present, in a classified form, such an assemblage of Facts and
Opinions as may be impressed with warmth and quickness upon the
memory, and assist in the formation of a good general judgment, or
direct still further a-field.
In this Manual of abstracts, abridgments, and
summaries--considerably over Three Hundred in number--illustrations
by way of Anecdote occur in every page. Wordiness has been avoided
as unfitted for a book which has for its object not the waste but
the economy of time and thought, and the diffusion of concise
notions upon subjects of living Interest, useful Curiosity, and
amusing Research.
The accompanying Table of Contents will, at a single glance, show
the variety as well as the practical character of the subjects
illustrated; the aim being to render the work alike serviceable
to the reader of a journal of the day, as well as to the student
who reads to “reject what is no longer essential.” The Author has
endeavoured to keep pace with the progress of Information; and in
the selection of new accessions, some have been inserted more to
stimulate curiosity and promote investigation than as things to
be taken for granted. The best and latest Authorities have been
consulted, and the improved journalism of our time has been made
available; for, “when a river of gold is running by your door, why
not put out your hat, and take a dip?”[1]
The Author
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Transcriber's note
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. Minor punctuation
errors have been corrected without notice. A few obvious typographical
errors have been corrected, and they are listed at the end of this book.
Transylvania University Studies in English
II
A Syllabus of Kentucky Folk-Songs
By
HUBERT G. SHEARIN, A. M. Ph. D.
Professor of English Philology in Transylvania University
and
JOSIAH H. COMBS, A. B.
Editor of The Transylvanian
Transylvania Printing Company
Lexington, Kentucky
1911
TO
R. M. S.
INTRODUCTION
This syllabus, or finding-list, is offered to lovers of folk-literature
in the hope that it may not be without interest and value to them for
purposes of comparison and identification. It includes 333 items,
exclusive of 114 variants, and embraces all popular songs that have so
far come to hand as having been "learned by ear instead of by eye," as
existing through oral transmission--song-ballads, love-songs,
number-songs, dance-songs, play-songs, child-songs, counting-out rimes,
lullabies, jigs, nonsense rimes, ditties, etc.
There is every reason to believe that many more such await the
collector; in fact, their number is constantly being increased even
today by the creation of new ones, by adaptation of the old, and even by
the absorption and consequent metamorphosis, of literary,
quasi-literary, or pseudo-literary types into the current of oral
tradition.
This collection, then, is by no means complete: means have not been
available for a systematic and scientific search for these folk-songs,
which have been gathered very casually during the past five years
through occasional travel, acquaintanceship, and correspondence in only
the twenty-one following counties: Fayette, Madison, Rowan, Elliott,
Carter, Boyd, Lawrence, Morgan, Johnson, Pike, Knott, Breathitt, Clay,
Laurel, Rockcastle, Garrard, Boyle, Anderson, Shelby, Henry, and
Owen--all lying in Central and Eastern Kentucky.
All of the material listed has thus been collected in this State, though
a variant of The Jew's Daughter, page 8, has come by chance from
Michigan, and another of The Pretty Mohee, page 12, was sent from
Georgia. The Cumberland Mountain region, in the eastern part of the
State, has naturally furnished the larger half of the material, because
of local conditions favorable to the propagation of folk-song. However,
sections of Kentucky lying farther to the westward are almost equally
prolific. The wide extension of the same ballad throughout the State
argues convincingly for the unity of the Kentucky stock--a fact which
may be confirmed in more ways than one.
The arrangement is as follows: The material in hand is loosely grouped
in eighteen sections, according to origin, chronology, content, or form.
Though logically at fault, because of the cross-division thus inevitably
entailed, this plan has seemed to be the best. No real confusion will
result to the user in consequence. In fact, no matter what system be
adopted, certain songs will belong equally well to two or more different
categories.
Under each of these eighteen main divisions the treatment of the
individual song-ballad is in general as follows: First, stands the
title, with variant titles in parentheses. Should this be unknown, a
caption coined by the editors is placed in brackets. Secondly, a Roman
numeral immediately follows the above to denote the number of versions,
if variants have been found. Thirdly, the prosodical character of the
song is roughly indicated by a combination of letters and numerals. Each
letter indicates a line; the variation in the letters indicates, in the
usual fashion, the rime-scheme of the stanza. Each numeral indicates the
number of stresses in the line (or lines) denoted by the letter (or
letters) immediately succeeding it. When a chorus, burden, or refrain is
present, the metrical scheme of this stands immediately after an "and,"
as, for example, in The Blue and the Gray, page 14. In the case of the
refrain, the letters used are independent of those immediately preceding
the "and," and denoting the rime-scheme of the stanza proper. Fourthly,
an Arabic numeral follows to indicate the number of stanzas in the song,
exclusive of the refrain, should one be present. If the number of
stanzas in a ballad is indeterminable, because its form is fragmentary,
or because its variant versions differ in length, this fact is indicated
by an appended ca (_circa_). Sixth, and last, is a synopsis, or other
attempt to give briefly such data as may serve to complete the
identification.
Illustration of the third item above may be helpful. Thus in Pretty
Polly, on page 7, 4aabb indicates a quatrain riming in couplets, with
four stresses in each line. In Jackaro, page 9, 3abcb indicates a
quatrain riming alternately, with three stressed syllables in each line.
In The King's Daughter, page 7, 4a3b4c3b indicates a quatrain, with only
the second and fourth lines riming and with four stresses in the first
and third lines and three stresses in the second and fourth. In Johnnie
Came from Sea, page 14, 6aa denotes a rimed couplet, with six stresses
in each line.
It has, naturally, been difficult at times to decide whether certain
stanzas should be counted as couplets, or as quatrains half as long. In
such cases, the air, or tune, and other data, often rather subtle, have
been employed in making decisions. The quatrain form has in uncertain
instances been given the benefit of the doubt. Even thus, certain minor
inconsistencies will perhaps be noted. It is hardly necessary to add
that assonance freely occurs in the place of rime, and as such it is
considered throughout.
All attempt to indicate the prevailing metrical unit, or foot, within
the line has been frankly given over. Iambs, dactyls, and their ilk
receive scant courtesy from the composer of folk-song, who without qualm
or quaver will stretch one syllable, or even an utter silence (caesura),
into the time of a complete bar; while in the next breath he will with
equal equanimity huddle a dozen syllables into the same period.
Consequently, this item, even if it could be indicated, would have scant
descriptive value.
It is a pleasant duty to acknowledge gratefully the assistance of those
who have transmitted to our hands many of the songs: Mesdames J. W.
Combs, W. T. Phillips, Jennie L. Combs, Richard Smith, Martha Smith,
Ruth Hackney, W. F. Hays, Ollie Huff, Robin Cornett, Lucy Banks, Sarah
Burton, Kittie Jordan, and Ruby Martin; Misses Martha Jent, Maud Dean,
Virginia Jordan, Jessie Green, Lizzie Cody, Margaret Combs, Barbara
Smith, Helena E. Rose, Sarah Burton, Sarah Hillman, Cordia Bramblett,
Nannie S. Graham, Myrtle Wheeler, Melissa Holbrook, Rosetta Wheeler,
Ruth Hackney, Ora McDavid, Jeannette McDavid; Messrs. Wm. W. Berry,
Chas. Hackney, S. B. Wheeler, R. L. Morgan, Enoch Wheeler, Thos. H.
Hackney, James Goodman, W. S. Wheeler, Harry M.
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ROUGHING IT
by Mark Twain
1880
TO
CALVIN H. HIGBIE,
Of California,
an Honest Man, a Genial Comrade, and a Steadfast Friend.
THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED
By the Author,
In Memory of the Curious Time
When We Two
WERE MILLIONAIRES FOR TEN DAYS.
ROUGHING IT
BY
MARK TWAIN.
(SAMUEL L. CLEMENS.)
PREFATORY.
This book is merely a personal narrative, and not a pretentious history
or a philosophical dissertation. It is a record of several years of
variegated vagabondizing, and its object is rather to help the resting
reader while away an idle hour than afflict him with metaphysics, or goad
him with science. Still, there is information in the volume; information
concerning an interesting episode in the history of the Far West, about
which no books have been written by persons who were on the ground in
person, and saw the happenings of the time with their own eyes. I allude
to the rise, growth and culmination of the silver-mining fever in Nevada
-a curious episode, in some respects; the only one, of its peculiar kind,
that has occurred in the land; and the only one, indeed, that is likely
to occur in it.
Yes, take it all around, there is quite a good deal of information in the
book. I regret this very much; but really it could not be helped:
information appears to stew out of me naturally, like the precious ottar
of roses out of the otter. Sometimes it has seemed to me that I would
give worlds if I could retain my facts; but it cannot be. The more I calk
up the sources, and the tighter I get, the more I leak wisdom. Therefore,
I can only claim indulgence at the hands of the reader, not
justification.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
My Brother appointed Secretary of Nevada--I Envy His Prospective
Adventures--Am Appointed Private Secretary Under Him--My Contentment
Complete--Packed in One Hour--Dreams and Visions--On the Missouri River
--A Bully Boat
CHAPTER II.
Arrive at St. Joseph--Only Twenty-five Pounds Baggage Allowed--Farewell
to Kid Gloves and Dress Coats--Armed to the Teeth--The “Allen”--A
Cheerful Weapon--Persuaded to Buy a Mule--Schedule of Luxuries--We Leave
the “States”--“Our Coach”--Mails for the Indians--Between a Wink and an
Earthquake--A Modern Sphynx and How She Entertained Us--A Sociable Heifer
CHAPTER III.
“The Thoroughbrace is Broke”--Mails Delivered Properly--Sleeping Under
Difficulties--A Jackass Rabbit Meditating, and on Business--A Modern
Gulliver--Sage-brush--Overcoats as an Article of Diet--Sad Fate of a
Camel--Warning to Experimenters
CHAPTER IV.
Making Our Bed--Assaults by the Unabridged--At a Station--Our Driver a
Great and Shining Dignitary--Strange Place for a Frontyard
--Accommodations--Double Portraits--An Heirloom--Our Worthy Landlord
--“Fixings and Things”--An Exile--Slumgullion--A Well Furnished Table--The
Landlord Astonished--Table Etiquette--Wild Mexican Mules--Stage-coaching
and Railroading
CHAPTER V.
New Acquaintances--The Cayote--A Dog’s Experiences--A Disgusted Dog--The
Relatives of the Cayote--Meals Taken Away from Home
CHAPTER VI.
The Division Superintendent--The Conductor--The Driver--One Hundred and
Fifty Miles’ Drive Without Sleep--Teaching a Subordinate--Our Old Friend
Jack and a Pilgrim--Ben Holliday Compared to Moses
CHAPTER VII.
Overland City--Crossing the Platte--Bemis’s Buffalo Hunt--Assault by a
Buffalo--Bemis’s Horse Goes Crazy--An Impromptu Circus--A New Departure
--Bemis Finds Refuge in a Tree--Escapes Finally by a Wonderful Method
CHAPTER VIII.
The Pony Express--Fifty Miles Without Stopping--“Here he Comes”--Alkali
Water--Riding an Avalanche--Indian Massacre
CHAPTER IX.
Among the Indians--An Unfair Advantage--Laying on our Arms--A Midnight
Murder--Wrath of Outlaws--A Dangerous, yet Valuable Citizen
CHAPTER X.
History of Slade--A Proposed Fist-fight--Encounter with Jules--Paradise
of Outlaws--Slade as Superintendent--As Executioner--A Doomed Whisky
Seller--A Prisoner--A Wife’s Bravery--An Ancient Enemy Captured--Enjoying
a Luxury--Hob-nobbing with Slade--Too Polite--A Happy Escape
CHAPTER XI.
Slade in Montana--“On a Spree”--In Court--Attack on a Judge--Arrest by
the Vigilantes--Turn out of the Min
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An
Examination of the Testimony
of the
Four Evangelists,
by the Rules of Evidence Administered
in
Courts of Justice.
With an Account of the Trial of Jesus.
By Simon Greenleaf, LL.D.
Dane Professor of Law in Harvard University
Second Edition
Revised and Corrected by the Author.
London:
A. Maxwell & Son, 32, Bell Yard, Lincoln's Inn;
W. Smith, 113, Fleet Street;
Hodges & Smith, Dublin; T. & J. Clark, Edinburgh.
1847
CONTENTS
Contents And Synopsis Of The Harmony.
Advertisement To This Edition.
An Examination, Etc.
Harmony Of The Gospels.
Part I. Events Connected With The Birth And Childhood Of Jesus.
Part II. Announcement And Introduction Of Our Lord's Public Ministry.
Part III. Our Lord's First Passover, And The Subsequent Transactions
Until The Second.
Part IV. Our Lord's Second Passover, And The Subsequent Transactions
Until The Third.
Part V. From Our Lord's Third Passover, Until His Final Departure From
Galilee, At The Festival Of Tabernacles.
Part VI. The Festival Of Tabernacles And The Subsequent Transactions,
Until Our Lord's Arrival At Bethany, Six Days Before The Fourth
Passover.
Part VII. Our Lord's Public Entry Into Jerusalem, And The Subsequent
Transactions Before The Fourth Passover.
Part VIII. The Fourth Passover; Our Lord's Passion; And The
Accompanying Events Until The End Of The Jewish Sabbath.
Part IX. Our Lord's Resurrection, His Subsequent Appearances, And His
Ascension.
Note On The Resurrection.
An Account Of The Trial Of Jesus.
The Jewish Account Of The Trial Of Jesus. By Mr. Salvador.
The Trial Of Jesus Before Caiaphas And Pilate.
Preface.
Analysis Of The Chapter Of Mr. Salvador, Entitled "The Administration
Of Justice" Among The Jews.
Trial Of Jesus.
Footnotes
ADVERTISEMENT.
In introducing to the notice of the British Public, Mr. Professor
GREENLEAF'S Harmony of the Four Gospels, the publishers have much
satisfaction in announcing, that it has become a Standard Work in the
United States of America: and its intrinsic value has induced them to make
it known, in the hope of promoting its circulation, in this country.
The spirit of infidelity is far more restless and active on the other side
of the Atlantic, than, happily, it has been in our highly-favoured land:
and, in consequence, it has called forth some of the most able and
powerful minds to correct and subdue it. Among these advocates of Divine
Revelation, the profound lawyer, Professor Greenleaf, holds a most
honourable and distinguished place; and his work may justly be regarded as
combining sound and practical knowledge with well-directed zeal and piety.
Its character has been very fairly appreciated in two leading North
American journals, from which the following extracts are made, as
indicative of its contents, and also of the high estimation in which its
learned author is deservedly held in his own country.
EXTRACT OF A NOTICE OF PROFESSOR GREENLEAF ON THE FOUR GOSPELS,
OCTOBER 24, 1846, IN "THE NEW YORK OBSERVER."
The Author is a lawyer, very learned in his profession, acute,
critical and used to raising and meeting practical doubts. Author
of a treatise on the law of evidence, which has already become a
classic in the hands of the profession which he adorns, and
teaches in one of the Law Seminaries which do honour to our
country in the eyes of Europe, he brings rare qualifications for
the task he assumes. That he should, with the understanding and
from the heart, accept the Gospel as the truth, avow it as his
Hope, and seek to discharge a duty to his fellow-men by laying
before them the grounds on which he founds this acceptance and
this hope, are cheering circumstances to the Christian, and
present strong appeals to the indifferent.
To his profession, to the lawyers of the country, however, this
work makes a strong appeal. They are a very secular profession.
Their business is almost wholly conversant with material
interests. Their time is absorbed in controversies, of passion, or
of interest. Acute, critical, and disputatious, they apparently
present a field unpropitious for the acceptance of a religion,
spiritual, disinterested, and insisting on perfect holiness.
Still, they necessarily need to know and must enforce the rules of
finding truth and justice; the principles for ascertaining truth
and dispensing justice are the great subjects of all their
discussions, so far as they are discussions of any general
principle. From this cause it is, that
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NEED TO REDO ALL THE "REMOVE" LINES:
THE WORKS OF ROBERT G. INGERSOLL
"ARGUMENTS CANNOT BE ANSWERED WITH INSULTS. KINDNESS IS STRENGTH;
ANGER BLOWS OUT THE LAMP OF THE MIND. IN THE EXAMINATION OF A GREAT AND
IMPORTANT QUESTION, EVERY ONE SHOULD BE SERENE, SLOW-PULSED AND CALM."
IN TWELVE VOLUMES VOLUME VI.
DISCUSSIONS
1900
Dresden Edition
CONTENTS.
THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
(1881.)
I. Col. Ingersoll's Opening Paper--Statement of the Fundamental Truths
of Christianity--Reasons for Thinking that Portions of the Old Testament
are the Product of a Barbarous People--Passages upholding
Slavery, Polygamy, War, and Religious Persecution not Evidences of
Inspiration--If the Words are not Inspired, What Is?--Commands of
Jehovah compared with the Precepts of Pagans and Stoics--Epictetus,
Cicero, Zeno, Seneca, Brahma--II. The New Testament--Why were
Four Gospels Necessary?--Salvation by Belief--The Doctrine of
the Atonement--The Jewish System Culminating in the Sacrifice of
Christ--Except for the Crucifixion of her Son, the Virgin Mary would be
among the Lost--What Christ must have Known would Follow the Acceptance
of His Teachings--The Wars of Sects, the Inquisition, the Fields of
Death--Why did he not Forbid it All?--The Little that he Revealed--The
Dogma of Eternal Punishment--Upon Love's Breast the Church has Placed
the Eternal Asp--III. The "Inspired" Writers--Why did not God furnish
Every Nation with a Bible?
II. Judge Black's Reply--His Duty that of a Policeman--The Church not
in Danger--Classes who Break out into Articulate Blasphemy--The
Sciolist--Personal Remarks about Col. Ingersoll--Chief-Justice Gibson of
Pennsylvania Quoted--We have no Jurisdiction or Capacity to Rejudge the
Justice of God--The Moral Code of the Bible--Civil Government of the
Jews--No Standard of Justice without Belief in a God--Punishments for
Blasphemy and Idolatry Defended--Wars of Conquest--Allusion to Col.
Ingersoll's War Record--Slavery among the Jews--Polygamy Discouraged by
the Mosaic Constitution--Jesus of Nazareth and the Establishment of
his Religion--Acceptance of Christianity and Adjudication upon its
Divinity--The Evangelists and their Depositions--The Fundamental Truths
of Christianity--Persecution and Triumph of the Church--Ingersoll's
Propositions Compressed and the Compressions Answered--Salvation as a
Reward of Belief--Punishment of Unbelief--The Second Birth, Atonement,
Redemption, Non-resistance, Excessive Punishment of Sinners, Christ and
Persecution, Christianity and Freedom of Thought, Sufficiency of the
Gospel, Miracles, Moral Effect of Christianity.
III. Col. Ingersoll's Rejoinder--How this Discussion Came About--Natural
Law--The Design Argument--The Right to Rejudge the Justice even of a
God--Violation of the Commandments by Jehovah--Religious Intolerance
of the Old Testament--Judge Black's Justification of Wars of
Extermination--His Defence of Slavery--Polygamy not "Discouraged" by the
Old Testament--Position of Woman under the Jewish System and under that
of the Ancients--a "Policeman's" View of God--Slavery under Jehovah
and in Egypt--The Admission that Jehovah gave no Commandment against
Polygamy--The Learned and Wise Crawl back in Cri
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[Illustration: DON AND BERT GORDON AND THE “CIRCUS-HOSSES.”]
_BOY TRAPPER SERIES._
THE
BURIED TREASURE;
OR,
OLD JORDAN’S “HAUNT.”
BY HARRY CASTLEMON,
AUTHOR OF “THE FRANK NELSON SERIES,” “THE SPORTSMAN’S CLUB SERIES,”
“GUNBOAT SERIES,” &C.
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY T. COATES & CO.
FAMOUS CASTLEMON BOOKS.
=GUNBOAT SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 6 vols. 12mo.
FRANK THE YOUNG NATURALIST.
FRANK IN THE WOODS.
FRANK ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI.
FRANK ON A GUNBOAT.
FRANK BEFORE VICKSBURG.
FRANK ON THE PRAIRIE.
=ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo.
Cloth.
FRANK AMONG THE RANCHEROS.
FRANK IN THE MOUNTAINS.
FRANK AT DON CARLOS’ RANCH.
=SPORTSMAN’S CLUB SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo.
Cloth.
THE SPORTSMAN’S CLUB IN THE SADDLE.
THE SPORTSMAN’S CLUB AFLOAT.
THE SPORTSMAN’S CLUB AMONG THE TRAPPERS.
=FRANK NELSON SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo.
Cloth.
SNOWED UP.
FRANK IN THE FORECASTLE.
THE BOY TRADERS.
=BOY TRAPPER SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo. Cloth.
THE BURIED TREASURE.
THE BOY TRAPPER.
THE MAIL-CARRIER.
=ROUGHING IT SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo. Cloth.
GEORGE IN CAMP.
GEORGE AT THE WHEEL.
GEORGE AT THE FORT.
=ROD AND GUN SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo. Cloth.
DON GORDON’S SHOOTING BOX.
THE YOUNG WILD FOWLERS.
ROD AND GUN CLUB.
=GO-AHEAD SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo. Cloth.
TOM NEWCOMBE.
GO-AHEAD.
NO MOSS.
=FOREST AND STREAM SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 3 vols. 12mo.
Cloth.
JOE WAYRING.
SNAGGED AND SUNK.
STEEL HORSE.
=WAR SERIES.= By HARRY CASTLEMON. 5 vols. 12mo. Cloth.
TRUE TO HIS COLORS.
RODNEY THE OVERSEER.
MARCY THE REFUGEE.
RODNEY THE PARTISAN.
MARCY THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.
_Other Volumes in Preparation._
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by
PORTER & COATES,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Godfrey Evans Page 5
CHAPTER II.
Godfrey builds Air-castles 22
CHAPTER III.
Dan’s strategy 36
CHAPTER IV.
The Shooting match 54
CHAPTER V.
Godfrey finds something 72
CHAPTER VI.
Our friends, the Gordons 90
CHAPTER VII.
The new comers 105
CHAPTER VIII.
Dan makes a discovery 125
CHAPTER IX.
Old Jordan’s “haunt” 141
CHAPTER X.
What Godfrey’s visitor wanted 157
CHAPTER XI.
Old Jordan shows himself 176
CHAPTER XII.
Old Jordan in trouble 194
CHAPTER XIII.
How Clarence found it out 215
CHAPTER XIV.
Don’s experiment 231
CHAPTER XV.
A joke that was no joke 248
CHAPTER XVI.
Conclusion 268
THE BURIED TREASURE.
CHAPTER I.
GODFREY EVANS.
“Wal, of all the dinners that ever a white man sot down to, this yere
is the beat!”
The speaker was Godfrey Evans--a tall, raw-boned man, dressed in a
tattered, brown jean suit. He was barefooted, his toil-hardened hands
and weather-beaten face were sadly soiled and begrimed, and his hair
and whiskers looked as though they had never been made acquainted with
a comb. As he spoke he drew an empty nail-keg from its corner, placed
a board over the top of it, and seating himself, ran his eye over the
slender stock of viands his wife had just placed on the table.
The man’s appearance was in strict keeping with his surroundings. The
cabin in which he lived and everything it contained told of the most
abject poverty. The building, which was made of rough, unhewn logs,
could boast of but one room and a loft, to which access was gained by
a ladder fastened against the wall. It had no floor and no windows,
all the light being admitted through a dilapidated door, which every
gust of wind threatened to shake from its hinges, and the warmth being
supplied by an immense fire-place with a stick chimney, which occupied
nearly the whole of one end of the cabin. There were no chairs to be
seen--the places of these useful articles being supplied by empty
nail-kegs and blocks of wood; and neither were there any beds--a
miserable “shake-down” in one corner being the best in this line that
the cabin could afford. Everything looked as if it were about to fall
to pieces. Even the rough board table on which the dinner was placed
would have tumbled over, had it not been propped up against the wall.
Godfrey Evans had seen better days. He had once been comparatively well
off in the world; but he had lost all his property through no fault of
his own, and the loss so disheartened him that he would make no effort
to accumulate more. At his time of life it was too late to begin again
with empty hands, he said; so he accepted the situation, but with a
very bad grace, and spent the most of his time in roaming about the
woods with his gun on his shoulder, and the rest in bemoaning his
altered circumstances, and denouncing those of his neighbors who were
more fortunate than himself.
Godfrey’s family consisted of a wife and two sons--the latter aged
respectively seventeen and fifteen years. His wife was a meek-faced
woman who had seen a world of care and trouble, and who, while
submitting patiently to her hard lot, hoped for better things, and
placed unbounded confidence in her youngest son, David, who was
animated by an energetic, manly spirit, which contrasted strangely with
his father’s indolence and indifference. Godfrey seemed content to pass
the remainder of his days in that hovel, destitute of all the comforts,
and even suffering for many of the necessaries of life; but David was
not. He had high aspirations, had formed plans, and, better than that,
he had perseverance and pluck enough to carry them out. Of him and his
brother, Daniel, we shall have more to say as our story progresses. It
will be enough, now, to tell the reader that if they had been utter
strangers, they could not have been more unlike each other. David was
of a lively, cheerful disposition, and his entry into the comfortless
hovel he called home, was like a ray of sunshine bursting through a
storm cloud. Daniel, on the other hand, was like his father, morose and
sullen, and when he came home from the woods or the steamboat landing,
where he spent the most of his time, it seemed as if a thunder cloud
had suddenly settled down over the cabin.
Having drawn his nail-keg up to the table, Godfrey thrust his hand into
his pocket, pulled out his jack-knife, and picking up the fork that lay
beside his broken plate, held the two close together and looked at them
intently for several minutes. The fork was not such a fork as the most
of us use at our meals. It was simply a piece of cane sharpened at one
end; and perhaps this story will fall into the hands of some who can
remember, or who have heard it said, that there was a time, not so very
long ago, when a good many families in the South, who had all their
lives been accustomed to something better, had their choice between
employing their fingers at table, or using such an implement as this we
have just described.
“Look at this yere, now,” said Godfrey, “jest look at it, I say, the
hul on yer, an’ then ax yerselves if it aint a purty pass fur a man to
come to, who had a nice house, a fine plantation and four <DW65>s of
his own, only twelve short years ago! Eh?”
“We can’t help it, father,” said Mrs. Evans, who knew that her angry
husband expected her to say something. “We had comforts once, and we
might have them now if--if----”
“Yes, in course we might, if them Yanks had stayed to hum, whar they
belonged,” Godfrey almost shouted. “We didn’t do nothin’ to them that
they should come down here an’ burn our houses an’ cotton gins, an’
steal our things, did we?”
“The Federals didn’t do it all, father,” said David. “They burned our
buildings, just as they burned the buildings of almost every man who
was in the rebel army; but we should have had enough left to get along
with, if Redburn’s guerillas had left us alone. They didn’t leave us a
bed to sleep on!”
“That’s what makes me so pizen savage agin everybody,” exclaimed
Godfrey, pounding with the handle of his knife on the table. “The men
what wore the same jacket as I did, came here and tuk what
the Yanks left us. Why didn’t they go up to Gordon’s an’ clean them
out too? Kase Gordon was a gen’ral, that’s why. That fuss was a rich
man’s war, an’ a poor man’s fight, that’s jest what that fuss was;
an’ everybody can see it now that it is done past. Men like me had to
stay in the ranks an’ carry a musket, an’ starve an’ freeze in the
trenches--that’s what we had to do; while rich planters, like Gordon,
lived high in their tents, rode their fine hosses, stole the sanitary
goods the Yanks sent to their fellers in Richmond, an’ thought they was
a fightin’ for the ’federacy.”
“Why, father, General Gordon was wounded no less than three times,”
said David.
“S’pose he was,” replied Godfrey.
“An’ while he was fighting the Feds in front of Richmond, some more of
them came here and burned down his splendid house, that ours wouldn’t
have made a woodshed to, and stole everything his family had.”
“No, they didn’t do nothing of the kind,” answered his father, almost
savagely. “They burned his house, I know, an’ sarved him right, too.
I’m glad of it; but as fur stealin’ everything the Gordons had, that
ain’t so. No ’taint. The gen’ral’s got heaps an’ stacks of money now.”
“I don’t believe it,” said David, bluntly.
“If you want me to lay that cowhide over yer shoulders right peart, you
jest conspute me that ar way onct more,” said Godfrey, setting down
his cup of buttermilk. “Whar did them speckled ponies come from that
Don and Bert ride around the country, I’d like to know, if the Gordons
hain’t got no money? I was up thar the other day when it rained so
hard, an’ the gen’ral, bein’ mighty perlite, axed me would I come in
an set till the storm was over. Wal, I went, an’ what did I see? The
fust thing I laid my eyes onto was a pianner that them gals thumps on
when they had oughter be workin’ in the kitchen. They was a settin’
the table fur dinner, too; an’ didn’t I see silver forks thar, an’
white-handled knives, an’ chiny, an’ all them things that would jest
set me onto my feet agin if I had the money they cost? I did, I bet ye.
Hain’t got no money, hey, the Gordons hain’t? I know better. They have,
an’ that’s what makes me so pizen savage. How have they got any more
right to have to nor I have? We both fit the Yanks, an’ I made a poor
man of myself by it, while the gen’ral is jest as well off as he ever
was. Things ain’t fixed right in this yere ’arth, no how!”
“Thar they come now,” said Dan, who sat where he could look out of the
door and up the road that led toward General Gordon’s plantation.
“Thar they come, ridin’ them circus-hosses, and talkin’ an’ laughin’ as
though they was the happiest fellers in the world. Everybody is happy
’ceptin’ us. If I had what one of them ponies is wuth, I wouldn’t have
to wear no sich clothes as these yere,” added Dan, raising his arm and
pulling his sleeve around so that he could see the gaping rent in the
elbow. “If I could run one of them hosses off an’ sell it without being
ketched, I’d do it to-night!”
“O, Daniel, don’t talk so,” said his mother quickly.
“An’ why not, I’d like to know?” retorted Dan. “Has them fellers any
right to go a gollopin’ about the country on horseback, while I’ve got
to hoof it all the while, an’ go barefoot too?”
“No, they hain’t,” said Godfrey. “They’ve got jest as much right to
hoof it as any of us; an’ we’ve got the same right to ride on horseback
that they has. We could do it onct, an’ we’ll do it agin! yes, we will,
fur times is goin’ to change with us, an’ purty soon too. Now, don’t
forget what I’m tellin’ ye; ye’ll see the eyes of the Gordons, an’ all
the rest of the folks about here, a stickin’ out as big as _that_,”
said Godfrey, flourishing his clenched hand over the table. “As big as
that, I say, an’ afore many days, too--p’rhaps next week!”
“Whats goin’ to happen, pop?” asked Dan.
“Something that’ll----”
Godfrey glanced out at the door, and seeing that the boys, whose
approach had started the family on this subject of conversation, were
near at hand, put on a very wise look and winked knowingly at his son,
who was obliged to restrain his curiosity for the present.
We must stop here long enough to say a word concerning the new-comers,
as it is possible that we shall often meet them hereafter. Their names
were Donald and Hubert Gordon, and they lived about a mile from the
cabin in which Godfrey Evans and his family lived. And in what part of
the world was that? It doesn’t much matter, for as there is more truth
than fiction in some of the incidents we are about to describe, we do
not care to go too much into details. It will be enough to say that the
scene of our story is laid, and that all the actors therein lived, in
one of our Southern States not very far from the Mississippi river. As
our tale progresses some attentive reader, who has paid close attention
to his history, may be able to locate the exact spot.
Two boys with more cheerful, happy dispositions than Don and Bert
Gordon possessed, it would be hard to find anywhere. Don was sixteen
years of age and his brother one year younger. The former was a
robust, manly youth, who took great delight in all out-of-doors sports,
and who, like many other healthy youngsters, had some glaring faults
that were the occasion of no little anxiety to his father and mother.
One was his great propensity for mischief. He was not fond of books or
school, but any wild scheme for “fun,” as he called it, particularly
if it involved some risk on the part of those who participated in it,
would enlist his hearty sympathy and cooperation. This led to the
most unpleasant episode in Don’s life. He was a student at a certain
high school in a neighboring city, and being thrown into the company
of uneasy spirits like himself, he very soon so far forgot the solemn
promises he had made his mother before leaving home, that he assisted
in laying plans for mischief which others carried into execution. After
that but little urging was necessary to induce him to take part in them
himself; and being at last detected in some act that had been strictly
forbidden, he was promptly expelled from the school.
It was wonderful what a change that made in Don Gordon. He began to
see that his conduct was not calculated to gain and hold the respect
of those whose respect was worth having, and thus far his resolution
to do better had been firmly adhered to. There is a turning point
in everybody’s existence--a time when a decision made affects one’s
whole after career--and who knows but this may have been the critical
period in Don’s life? It was not the disgrace attending his expulsion
from school that
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"The Browning Cyclopaedia."
_SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS ON THE FIRST EDITION._
"Conscientious and painstaking,"--_The Times._
"Obviously a most painstaking work, and in many ways it is very well
done."--_Pall Mall Gazette._
"In many ways a serviceable book, and deserves to be widely bought."--_The
Speaker._
"A book of far-reaching research and careful industry... will make this
poet clearer, nearer, and dearer to every reader who systematically uses
his book."--_Scotsman._
"Dr. Berdoe is a safe and thoughtful guide; his work has evidently been a
labour of love, and bears many marks of patient research."--_Echo._
"Students of Browning will find it an invaluable aid."--_Graphic._
"A work suggestive of immense industry."--_Morning Post._
"Erudite and comprehensive."--_Glasgow Herald._
"As a companion to Browning's works the Cyclopaedia will be most valuable;
it is a laborious, if necessary, piece of work, conscientiously performed,
for which present and future readers and students of Browning ought to be
really grateful."--_Nottingham Daily Guardian._
"A monumental labour, and fitting company for the great compositions he
elucidates."--_Rock._
"It is very well that so patient and ubiquitous a reader as Dr. Berdoe
should have written this useful cyclopaedia, and cleared the meaning of
many a dark and doubtful passage of the poet."--_Black and White._
"It is not too much to say that Dr. Berdoe has earned the gratitude of
every reader of Browning, and has materially aided the study of English
literature in one of its ripest developments."--_British Weekly._
"Dr. Berdoe's Cyclopaedia should make all other handbooks
unnecessary."--_Star._
"We are happy to commend the volume to Browning students as the most
ambitious and useful in its class yet executed."--_Notes and Queries._
"A most learned and creditable piece of work. Not a difficulty is
shirked."--_Vanity Fair._
"A monument of industry and devotion. It has really faced difficulties, it
is conveniently arranged, and is well printed and bound."--_Bookman._
"A wonderful help."--_Gentlewoman._
"Can be strongly recommended as one for a favourite corner in one's
library."--_Whitehall Review._
"Exceedingly well done; its interest and usefulness, we think, may pass
without question."--_Publishers' Circular._
"In a singularly industrious and exhaustive manner he has set himself to
make clear the obscure and to accentuate the beautiful in Robert
Browning's poem... must have involved infinite labour and research. It
cannot be doubted that the book will be widely sought for and warmly
appreciated."--_Daily Telegraph._
"Dr. Berdoe tackles every allusion, every proper name, every phase of
thought, besides giving a most elaborate analysis of each poem. He has
produced what we might almost call a monumental work."--_Literary
Opinion._
"This cyclopaedia may certainly claim to be by a long way the most
efficient aid to the study of Browning that has been published, or is
likely to be published.... Lovers of Browning will prize it highly, and
all who wish to understand him will consult it with advantage."--_Baptist
Magazine._
"The work has evidently been one of love, and we doubt whether any one
could have been found better qualified to undertake it."--_Cambridge
Review._
"All readers of Browning will feel indebted to Dr. Berdoe for his
interesting accounts of the historical facts on which many of the dramas
are based, and also for his learned dissertations on 'The Ring and the
Book' and 'Sordello.'"--_British Medical Journal._
"The work is so well done that no one is likely to think of doing it over
again."--_The Critic_ (New York).
"This work reflects the greatest credit on Dr. Berdoe and on the Browning
Society, of which he is so distinguished a member,--it is simply
invaluable."--_The Hawk._
"The Cyclopaedia has at any rate brought his (Browning's) best work well
within the compass of all serious readers of intelligence--Browning made
easy."--_The Month._
THE BROWNING CYCLOPAEDIA.
By the Same Author.
=BROWNING'S MESSAGE TO HIS TIME. His Religion, Philosophy, and Science.=
With Portrait and Facsimile Letters. Second edition, price 2_s._ 6_d._
_OPINIONS OF THE PRESS._
"Full of admiration and sympathy."--_Saturday Review._
"Much that is helpful and suggestive."--_Scotsman._
"Should have a wide circulation, it is interesting and
stimulative."--_Literary World._
"It is the work of one who, having gained good himself, has made it his
endeavour to bring the same good within the reach of others, and, as such,
it deserves success."--_Cambridge Review._
"We have no hesitation in strongly recommending this little volume to any
who desire to understand the moral and mental attitude of Robert
Browning.... We are much obliged to Dr. Berdoe for his volume."--_Oxford
University Herald._
"Cannot fail to be of assistance to new readers."--_Morning Post._
"The work of a faithful and enthusiastic student is here."--_Nation._
THE BROWNING CYCLOPAEDIA
_A GUIDE TO THE STUDY OF THE WORKS_
OF ROBERT BROWNING
WITH
Copious Explanatory Notes and References
on all Difficult Passages
BY EDWARD BERDOE
LICENTIATE OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, EDINBURGH; MEMBER OF
THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS, ENGLAND, ETC., ETC.
_Author of "Browning's Message to his Time," "Browning as a Scientific
Poet," etc., etc._
LONDON: SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO. LTD.
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
1897
FIRST EDITION, _December, 1891_.
SECOND EDITION, _March, 1892_.
THIRD EDITION (Revised), _September, 1897_.
I gratefully Dedicate these pages
TO DR. F. J. FURNIVALL
AND MISS E. H. HICKEY,
THE FOUNDERS OF
THE BROWNING SOCIETY.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
The demand for a second edition of this work within three months of its
publication is a sufficient proof that such a book meets a want,
notwithstanding the many previous attempts of a more or less partial
character which have been made to explain Browning to "the general." With
the exception of certain superfine reviewers, to whom nothing is
obscure--except such things as they are asked to explain without previous
notice--every one admits that Browning requires more or less elucidation.
It is said by some that I have explained too much, but this might be said
of most commentaries, and certainly of every dictionary. It is difficult
to know precisely where to draw the line. If I am not to explain (say for
lady readers) what is meant by the phrase "_De te fabula narratur_," I
know not why any of the classical quotations should be translated. If
Browning is hard to understand, it must be on account of the obscurity of
his language, of his thought, or the purport of his verses; very often the
objection is made that the difficulty applies to all these. I have not
written for the "learned," but for the people at large. _The Manchester
Guardian_, in a kindly notice of my book, says "the error and marvel of
his book is the supposition that any <DW36> who can only be crutched by
it into an understanding of Browning will ever understand Browning at
all." There are many readers, however, who understand Browning a little,
and I hope that this book will enable them to understand him a great deal
more: though all <DW36>s cannot be turned into athletes, some undeveloped
persons may be helped to achieve feats of strength.
A word concerning my critics. No one can do me a greater service than by
pointing out mistakes and omissions in this work. I cannot hope to please
everybody, but I will do my best to make future editions as perfect as
possible.
E. B.
_March 1892._
PREFACE.
I make no apology for the publication of this work, because some such book
has long been a necessity to any one who seriously proposes to study
Browning. Up to its appearance there was no single book to which the
leader could turn, which gave an exposition of the leading ideas of every
poem, its key-note, the sources--historical, legendary, or fanciful--to
which the poem was due, and a glossary of every difficult word or allusion
which might obscure the sense to such readers as had short memories or
scanty reading. It would be affectation to pretend to believe that every
educated person ought to know, without the aid of such a work as this,
what Browning means by phrases and allusions which may be found by
hundreds in his works. The wisest reader cannot be expected to remember,
even if he has ever learned, a host of remote incidents in Italian
history, for example, to say nothing of classical terms which "every
schoolboy" ought to know, but rarely does. Browning is obscure,
undoubtedly, if a poem is read for the first time without any hint as to
its main purport: the meaning in almost every case lies more or less below
the surface; the superficial idea which a careless perusal of the poem
would afford is pretty sure to be the wrong one. Browning's poetry is
intended to make people think, and without thought the fullest commentary
will not help the reader much. "I can have little doubt," said the poet,
in his preface to the First Series of _Selections_ from his works, "that
my writing has been in the main too hard for many I should have been
pleased to communicate with; but I never designedly tried to puzzle
people, as some of my critics have supposed. On the other hand, I never
pretended to offer such literature as should be a substitute for a cigar
or a game at dominoes to an idle man. So, perhaps, on the whole, I get my
deserts, and something over--not a crowd, but a few
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See 25954-h.htm or 25954-h.zip:
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THE OPENED SHUTTERS
A Novel
by
CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM
* * * * *
By Clara Louise Burnham
THE OPENED SHUTTERS. Illustrated, 12mo, $1.50.
JEWEL: A CHAPTER IN HER LIFE. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.
JEWEL'S STORY BOOK. Illustrated, 12mo, $1.50.
THE RIGHT PRINCESS. 12mo, $1.50.
MISS PRITCHARD'S WEDDING TRIP. 12mo, $1.50.
YOUNG MAIDS AND OLD. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
DEARLY BOUGHT. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
NO GENTLEMEN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
A SANE LUNATIC. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
NEXT DOOR. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
THE MISTRESS OF BEECH KNOLL. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
MISS BAGG'S SECRETARY. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
DR. LATIMER. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
SWEET CLOVER. A Romance of the White City. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
THE WISE WOMAN. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
MISS ARCHER ARCHER. 16mo, $1.25.
A GREAT LOVE. A Novel. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.
A WEST POINT WOOING, and Other Stories. 16mo, $1.25.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
* * * * *
THE OPENED SHUTTERS
A Novel
by
CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM
With Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher
[Illustration: SYLVIA
_From a drawing by Harrison Fisher_]
Boston and New York
Houghton, Mifflin and Company
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1906
Copyright 1906 by Clara Louise Burnham
All Rights Reserved
Published October 1906
TO
C. D. T.
CONTENTS
I. JUDGE TRENT 1
II. MARTHA LACEY 12
III. A RAILWAY TRIP 22
IV. HOTEL FRISBIE 29
V. JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY 43
VI. SYLVIA'S CALLER 57
VII. THE MILL FARM 69
VIII. IN HARBOR 82
IX. EDNA DERWENT 91
X. CAPITULATION 101
XI. THINKRIGHT'S LETTER 112
XII. A LOST OAR 124
XIII. UNCLE AND NIECE 135
XIV. BLIND MAN'S HOLIDAY 146
XV. A FLITTING 155
XVI. EVOLUTION 161
XVII. THE ROSY CLOUD 170
XVIII. HAWK ISLAND 180
XIX. A NOR'EASTER 189
XX. THE POOL 200
XXI. A SWIMMING LESSON 213
XXII. BLUEBERRYING 222
XXIII. A PHILTRE 228
XXIV. SYLVIA'S MYSTERY 239
XXV. THE LITTLE RIFT 248
XXVI. REVELATION 257
XXVII. MISUNDERSTANDING 265
XXVIII. THE POTION 277
XXIX. THE WHITE BAG 288
XXX. THE LIGHT BREAKS 297
XXXI. RECONCILIATION 309
XXXII. A SO
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THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
(In 12 books)
Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society
London, 1903
BOOK I.
CONTENTS:
Introduction--S.W. Orson
Book I.
INTRODUCTION.
Among the notable books of later times-we may say, without exaggeration,
of all time--must be reckoned The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau.
It deals with leading personages and transactions of a momentous epoch,
when absolutism and feudalism were rallying for their last struggle
against the modern spirit, chiefly represented by Voltaire, the
Encyclopedists, and Rousseau himself--a struggle to which, after many
fierce intestine quarrels and sanguinary wars throughout Europe and
America, has succeeded the prevalence of those more tolerant and rational
principles by which the statesmen of our own day are actuated.
On these matters, however, it is not our province to enlarge; nor is it
necessary to furnish any detailed account of our author's political,
religious, and philosophic axioms and systems, his paradoxes and his
errors in logic: these have been so long and so exhaustively disputed
over by contending factions that little is left for even the most
assiduous gleaner in the field. The inquirer will find, in Mr. John
Money's excellent work, the opinions of Rousseau reviewed succinctly and
impartially. The 'Contrat Social', the 'Lattres Ecrites de la Montagne',
and other treatises that once aroused fierce controversy, may therefore
be left in the repose to which they have long been consigned, so far as
the mass of mankind is concerned, though they must always form part of
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THE SUNKEN GARDEN
This is the second book issued by the Beaumont Press 20 copies have been
printed on Japanese vellum signed by the author and numbered 1 to 20 and
250 copies on hand-made paper numbered 21 to 270. This is No. 200.
THE SUNKEN
GARDEN
AND OTHER POEMS BY
WALTER DE LA MARE
CONTENTS
Page
THE LITTLE SALAMANDER
When I go free, 9
THE SUNKEN GARDEN
Speak not--whisper not; 10
THE RIDDLERS
‘Thou Solitary!’ the Blackbird cried, 11
MRS. GRUNDY
‘Step very softly, sweet Quiet-foot, 13
THE DARK HOUSE
See this house, how dark it is 15
MISTRESS FELL
‘Whom seek you here, sweet Mistress Fell?’ 16
THE STRANGER
In the woods as I did walk, 18
THE FLIGHT
How do the days press on, and lay 19
THE REMONSTRANCE
I was at peace until you came 20
THE EXILE
I am that Adam who, with Snake for guest, 21
EYES
O Strange Devices that alone divide 22
THE TRYST
Why in my heart, O grief, 23
THE OLD MEN
Old and alone, sit we, 25
THE FOOL’S SONG
Never, no, never, listen too long, 26
THE DREAMER
O Thou who giving helm and sword
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{117}
NOTES AND QUERIES:
A MEDIUM OF INTER-COMMUNICATION FOR LITERARY MEN, ARTISTS, ANTIQUARIES,
GENEALOGISTS, ETC.
"When found, make a note of."--CAPTAIN CUTTLE.
* * * * *
No. 224.]
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 11. 1854
[Price Fourpence. Stamped Edition 5d.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
NOTES:-- Page
Eliminate, by C. Mansfield Ingleby 119
Cranmer's Bible 119
Sovereigns Dining and Supping in Public 120
Parallel Ideas from Poets, by Norris Deck 121
The great Alphabetic Psalm, and the Songs of Degrees,
by T. J. Buckton 121
MINOR NOTES:--Inscription on a Grave-stone in Whittlebury
Churchyard, Northamptonshire--Epitaph on Sir Henry
St. George--Newton and Milton--Eternal Life--Inscriptions
in Books--Churchill's Grave 122
QUERIES:--
Coronation Stone 123
Old Mereworth Castle, Kent 124
MINOR QUERIES:--"I could not love thee, dear, so much"--
Leicester as Ranger of Snowden--Crabb of Telsford--
Tolling the Bell while the Congregation is leaving
Church--O'Brien of Thosmond--Order of St. David of
Wales--Warple-way--Purlet--Liveries, Red and Scarlet--
Dr. Bragge--Chauncy, or Chancy--Plaster Casts--
[Greek: Sikera]--Dogs in Monumental Brasses 125
MINOR QUERIES WITH ANSWERS:--Marquis of Granby--
"Memorials of English Affairs," &c.--Standing when the
Lord's Prayer is read--Hypocrisy, &c. 127
REPLIES:--
"Consilium Novem Delectorum Cardinalium," &c.,
by B. B. Woodward 127
John Bunyan, by George Offor 129
The Asteroids, &c., by J. Wm. Harris 129
Caps at Cambridge, by C. H. Cooper 130
Russia, Turkey, and the Black Sea, by John Macray 132
High Dutch and Low Dutch, by Professor Goedes de Grueter 132
PHOTOGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE:--The Calotype on the Sea-shore 134
REPLIES TO MINOR QUERIES:--Ned o' the Todding--Hour-Glasses
and Inscriptions on Old Pulpits--Table-turning--"Firm was
their faith"--The Wilbraham Cheshire MS.--Mousehunt--
Begging the Question--Termination "-by"--German Tree--
Celtic Etymology--Recent Curiosities of Literature--
D. O. M.--Dr. John Taylor--Lines attributed to Hudibras
--"Corporations have no Souls," &c.--Lord Mayor of London
a Privy Councillor--Booty's Case--"Sat cito, si sat
bene"--Celtic and Latin Languages--Brydone the Tourist's
Birth-place 135
MISCELLANEOUS:--
Notes on Books, &c. 138
Books and Odd Volumes wanted 138
Notices to Correspondents 139
* * * * *
SCIENTIFIC RECREATION FOR YOUTH--EXPERIMENTAL CHEMISTRY.
AMUSEMENT FOR LONG EVENINGS, by means of STATHAM'S Chemical Cabinets and
Portable Laboratories, 5s. 6d., 7s. 6d., 10s. 6d., 21s., 31s. 6d., 43s.,
63s., and upwards. Book of Experiments. 6d. "Illustrated Descriptive
Catalogue" forwarded Free for Stamp.
WILLIAM F. STATHAM. Operative Chemist, 29c. Rotherfield Street, Islington,
London, and of Chemists and Opticians everywhere.
* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETY.--THE EXHIBITION OF PHOTOGRAPHS AND DAGUERREOTYPES is
now open at the Gallery of the Society of British Artists, Suffolk Street,
Pall Mall, in the Morning from 10 A.M. to half-past 4 P.M., and in the
Evening from 7 to 10 P.M. Admission 1s. Catalogue 6d.
* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC INSTITUTION.--An EXHIBITION of PICTURES, by
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EVE AND DAVID
(Lost Illusions Part III)
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Ellen Marriage
PREPARER'S NOTE
Eve and David is part three of a trilogy. Eve and David's story
begins in part one, Two Poets. Part one also introduces Eve's
brother, Lucien. Part two, A Distinguished Provincial at Paris,
centers on Lucien's life in Paris. For part three the action once
more returns to Eve and David in Angouleme. In many references parts
one and three are combined under the title Lost Illusions and A
Distinguished Provincial at Paris is given its individual title.
Following this trilogy Lucien's story is continued in another book,
Scenes from a Courtesan's Life.
EVE AND DAVID
Lucien had gone to Paris; and David Sechard, with the courage
and intelligence of the ox which painters give the Evangelist for
accompanying symbol, set himself to make the large fortune for which he
had wished that evening down by the Charente, when he sat with Eve by
the weir, and she gave him her hand and her heart. He wanted to make the
money quickly, and less for himself than for Eve's sake and Lucien's. He
would place his wife amid the elegant and comfortable surroundings that
were hers by right, and his strong arm should sustain her brother's
ambitions--this was the programme that he saw before his eyes in letters
of fire.
Journalism and politics, the immense development of the book trade,
of literature and of the sciences; the increase of public interest in
matters touching the various industries in the country; in fact, the
whole social tendency of the epoch following the establishment of the
Restoration produced an enormous increase in the demand for paper. The
supply required was almost ten times as large as the quantity in which
the celebrated Ouvrard speculated at the outset of the Revolution.
Then Ouvrard could buy up first the entire stock of paper and then the
manufacturers; but in the year 1821 there were so many paper-mills in
France, that no one could hope to repeat his success; and David had
neither audacity enough nor capital enough for such speculation.
Machinery for producing paper in any length was just coming into use
in England. It was one of the most urgent needs of the time, therefore,
that the paper trade should keep pace with the requirements of the
French system of civil government, a system by which the right of
discussion was to be extended to every man, and the whole fabric based
upon continual expression of individual opinion; a grave misfortune, for
the nation that deliberates is but little wont to act.
So, strange coincidence! while Lucien was drawn into the great machinery
of journalism, where he was like to leave his honor and his intelligence
torn to shreds, David Sechard, at the back of his printing-house,
foresaw all the practical consequences of the increased activity of the
periodical press. He saw the direction in which the spirit of the age
was tending, and sought to find means to the required end. He saw also
that there was a fortune awaiting the discoverer of cheap paper, and the
event has justified his clearsightedness. Within the last fifteen years,
the Patent Office has received more than a hundred applications from
persons claiming to have discovered cheap substances to be employed in
the manufacture of paper. David felt more than ever convinced that this
would be no brilliant triumph, it is true, but a useful and immensely
profitable discovery; and after his brother-in-law went to Paris, he
became more and more absorbed in the problem which he had set himself to
solve.
The expenses of his marriage and of Lucien's journey to Paris had
exhausted all his resources; he confronted the extreme of poverty at
the very outset of married life. He had kept one thousand francs for the
working expenses of the business, and owed a like sum, for which he had
given a bill to Postel the druggist. So here was a double problem for
this deep thinker; he must invent a method of making cheap paper, and
that quickly; he must make the discovery, in fact, in order to apply the
proceeds to the needs of the household and of the business. What words
can describe the brain that can forget the cruel preoccupations caused
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LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY
By Frances Hodgson Burnett
I
Cedric himself knew nothing whatever about it. It had never been even
mentioned to him. He knew that his papa had been an Englishman, because
his mamma had told him so; but then his papa had died when he was so
little a boy that he could not remember very much about him, except that
he was big, and had blue eyes and a long mustache, and that it was a
splendid thing to be carried around the room on his shoulder. Since his
papa's death, Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his
mamma about him. When his father was ill, Cedric had been sent away, and
when he had returned, everything was over; and his mother, who had
been very ill, too, was only just beginning to sit in her chair by the
window. She was pale and thin, and all the dimples had gone from her
pretty face, and her eyes looked large and mournful, and she was dressed
in black.
"Dearest," said Cedric (his papa had called her that always, and so the
little boy had learned to say it),--"dearest, is my papa better?"
He felt her arms tremble, and so he turned his curly head and looked in
her face. There was something in it that made him feel that he was going
to cry.
"Dearest," he said, "is he well?"
Then suddenly his loving little heart told him that he'd better put both
his arms around her neck and kiss her again and again, and keep his
soft cheek close to hers; and he did so, and she laid her face on his
shoulder and cried bitterly, holding him as if she could never let him
go again.
"Yes, he is well," she sobbed; "he is quite, quite well, but we--we have
no one left but each other. No one at all."
Then, little as he was, he understood that his big, handsome young papa
would not come back any more; that he was dead, as he had heard of other
people being, although he could not comprehend exactly what strange
thing had brought all this sadness about. It was because his mamma
always cried when he spoke of his papa that he secretly made up his mind
it was better not to speak of him very often to her, and he found out,
too, that it was better not to let her sit still and look into the fire
or out of the window without moving or talking. He and his mamma knew
very few people, and lived what might have been thought very lonely
lives, although Cedric did not know it was lonely until he grew older
and heard why it was they had no visitors. Then he was told that his
mamma was an orphan, and quite alone in the world when his papa had
married her. She was very pretty, and had been living as companion to a
rich old lady who was not kind to her, and one day Captain Cedric Errol,
who was calling at the house, saw her run up the stairs with tears on
her eyelashes; and she looked so sweet and innocent and sorrowful that
the Captain could not forget her. And after many strange things had
happened, they knew each other well and loved each other dearly, and
were married, although their marriage brought them the ill-will of
several persons. The one who was most angry of all, however, was
the Captain's father, who lived in England, and was a very rich and
important old nobleman, with a very bad temper and a very violent
dislike to America and Americans. He had two sons older than Captain
Cedric; and it was the law that the elder of these sons should inherit
the family title and estates, which were very rich and splendid; if the
eldest son died, the next one would be heir; so, though he was a member
of such a great family, there was little chance that Captain Cedric
would be very rich himself.
But it so happened that Nature had given to the youngest son gifts which
she had not bestowed upon his elder brothers. He had a beautiful face
and a fine, strong, graceful figure; he had a bright smile and a sweet,
gay voice; he was brave and generous, and had the kindest heart in the
world, and seemed to have the power to make every one love him. And it
was not so with his elder brothers; neither of them was handsome,
or very kind, or clever. When they were boys at Eton, they were not
popular; when they were at college, they cared nothing for study, and
wasted both time and money
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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 conson
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Produced by Patrick Hopkins and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note
- In general, geographical references, spelling, hyphenation, and
capitalization have been retained as in the original publication.
- Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.
- Significant typographical errors have been corrected. A full list of
these corrections is available in the Transcriber's Corrections section
at the end of the book.
* * * * *
THE HISTORY
OF
COMPANY C,
SEVENTH REGIMENT, O. V. I.,
BY
THEODORE WILDER.
OBERLIN:
J. B. T. MARSH, PRINTER,
"News Office."
1866.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866,
By THEODORE WILDER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for
the Northern District of Ohio.
TO ALL
WHOSE NAMES APPEAR
ON THE
COMPANY ROLL
THIS LITTLE VOLUME
IS MOST
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.
PREFACE.
This sketch and record were written at the suggestion and by the request
of the surviving members of the Company. It was their desire to have a
brief story of their marches, battles and sieges, and, especially, an
accurate record of each member, to preserve for reference in future
years. If this little publication will serve that purpose, the object of
the author is fully accomplished. There has been no design on his part
to entertain the public with a detailed and verbose account of patriotic
deeds and severe hardships, above what many others may have endured who
have taken part in the War of the Rebellion. Therefore, those who may
chance to meet with a copy of this work, expecting to be entertained,
will probably be disappointed.
As the value of such a work as this, depends entirely upon its accuracy,
great pains have been taken to avoid all mistakes. The author has had
access to diaries and journals kept by the members, and official returns
of the commanding officer, and is thus able to give the numerous dates
and facts with a good degree of correctness: and though there may be
errors, yet it is believed that very few occur.
T. W.
Oberlin, Ohio, Feb. 14, 1866.
HISTORY OF COMPANY C.
The History of Company C is properly connected with the history of
Oberlin College, the Alma Mater of its organization. The majority of its
members were proud to be known as the exponents of the generous,
Christian principles, there so fearlessly uttered and so zealously
inculcated. The founders of Oberlin were pledged to the general law of
benevolence. _All_ known forms of virtue were cheerfully adopted. Every
system of wrong was deprecated.
Patriotism and the doctrine of Anti-Slavery very naturally found a place
in the category of their principles. They seemed to be men, "clothed and
in their right mind," possessing at least the ordinary balance of moral
character, without any design to establish an institution for the
purpose of waging war against any particular system of iniquity to the
exclusion of all the others. Missionary associations, temperance and
anti-slavery societies, in short, all organizations designed to aid in
improving and saving their fellow men, found fearless advocates in them.
Under the stimulus of such principles they left their pleasant homes in
New England for residences in an unfavorable place in a forest of
Northern Ohio, to found a college that might prove a blessing to the
broad West.
[Sidenote: Oberlin College.]
The peculiar views held by Oberlin people with regard to their relations
and duties to the government, which are commonly known as the doctrine
of the Higher Law, were but the natural outgrowth of Christian
benevolence. They saw slavery to be a great crime, and they were bold to
take a stand against it, as one of their Christian duties. From the day
that the question of the evil of slavery was brought before the country,
they hesitated not to engage in the irrepressible conflict.
Multitudes of young men from the most virtuous families of the various
States of the Union gathered into the College to educate themselves for
positions of usefulness in every direction,--not all to be temperance
lecturers, not all to be honest lawyers, virtuous physicians, radical
anti-slavery enthusiasts; but some to fill all the various positions of
honor and trust.
No argument need be made to prove the vast extent of influence for good
which the College has exerted through the multitudes of young men who
have gone out from her halls, bearing the precious seed with them. It
has been scattered over the North, and to some extent over the South.
And to-day we are permitted to see the fields whitening, though not
fully ripe. The most enlightened communities, instead of receding from
the views promulgated by Oberlin teachers, have rapidly approached them
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E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustration.
See 57918-h.htm or 57918-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57918/57918-h/57918-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57918/57918-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/pirateofjasperpe00meig
THE PIRATE OF JASPER PEAK
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.
TORONTO
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: Close to the hearth a big chair had been drawn and in
this some one was sitting.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PIRATE OF JASPER PEAK
by
ADAIR ALDON
Author of “The Island of Appledore,” etc.
With Frontispiece
New York
The Macmillan Company
1918
All rights reserved
Copyright, 1918
By the Macmillan Company
Set up and electrotyped.
Published, September, 1918
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
I. A Stranger in a Strange Land
II. The Brown Bear’s Skin
III. Laughing Mary
IV. The Heart of the Forest
V. Oscar Dansk
VI. The Promised Land
VII
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Eighteenth Century
Essays on Shakespeare
Edited by
D. Nichol Smith, M.A.
Glasgow
James MacLehose and Sons
Publishers to the University
1903
CONTENTS
Preface.
Introduction. Shakespearian Criticism in the Eighteenth Century.
Nicholas Rowe: Some Account of the Life &c. of Mr. William Shakespear.
1709.
John Dennis: On the Genius and Writings of Shakespeare. 1711.
Alexander Pope: Preface to Edition of Shakespeare. 1725.
Lewis Theobald: Preface to Edition of Shakespeare. 1733.
Sir Thomas Hanmer: Preface to Edition of Shakespeare. 1744.
William Warburton: Preface to Edition of Shakespeare. 1747.
Samuel Johnson: Preface to Edition of Shakespeare. 1765.
Richard Farmer: An Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare: Addressed to
Joseph Cradock, Esq. 1767.
Maurice Morgann: An Essay on the Dramatic Character of Sir John Falstaff.
1777.
Notes.
Nicholas Rowe.
John Dennis.
Alexander Pope.
Lewis Theobald.
Sir Thomas Hanmer.
William Warburton.
Samuel Johnson.
Richard Farmer.
Maurice Morgann.
Index.
Footnotes
PREFACE.
The purpose of this book is to give an account of Shakespeare's reputation
during the eighteenth century, and to suggest that there are grounds for
reconsidering the common opinion that the century did not give him his
due. The nine Essays or Prefaces here reprinted may claim to represent the
chief phases of Shakespearian study from the days of Dryden to those of
Coleridge. It is one of the evils following in the train of the romantic
revival that the judgments of the older school have been discredited or
forgotten. The present volume shows that the eighteenth century knew many
things which the nineteenth has rediscovered for itself.
It is at least eighty years since most of these essays were reprinted.
Rowe's _Account of Shakespeare_ is given in its original and complete form
for the first time, it is believed, since 1714; what was printed in the
early Variorum editions, and previously in almost every edition since
1725, was Pope's version of Rowe's _Account_. Dennis's Essay has not
appeared since the author republished it in 1721. In all cases the texts
have been collated with the originals; and the more important changes in
the editions published in the lifetime of the author are indicated in the
Introduction or Notes.
The Introduction has been planned to show the main lines in the
development of Shakespeare's reputation, and to prove that the new
criticism, which is said to begin with Coleridge, takes its rise as early
as the third quarter of the eighteenth century. On the question of
Theobald's qualifications as an editor, it would appear that we must
subscribe to the deliberate verdict of Johnson. We require strong evidence
before we may disregard contemporary opinion, and in Theobald's case there
is abundant evidence to confirm Johnson's view. Johnson's own edition, on
the other hand, has not received justice during the last century.
It is a pleasure to the Editor to record his obligations to Professor
Raleigh, Mr. Gregory Smith, and Mr. J. H. Lobban.
EDINBURGH, _October_, 1903.
INTRODUCTION. SHAKESPEARIAN CRITICISM IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
The early nineteenth century was too readily convinced by Coleridge and
Hazlitt that they were the first to recognise and to explain the greatness
of Shakespeare. If amends have recently been made to the literary ideals
of Pope and Johnson, the reaction has not yet extended to Shakespearian
criticism. Are we not still inclined to hold the verdicts of Hume and
Chesterfield as representative of eighteenth-century opinion, and to find
proof of a lack of appreciation in the editorial travesties of the
playhouse? To this century, as much as to the nineteenth, Shakespeare was
the glory of English letters. So Pope and Johnson had stated in
unequivocal language, which should not have been forgotten. "He is not so
much an imitator as an instrument of Nature," said Pope, "and 'tis not so
just to say that he speaks from her as that she speaks through him"; and
Johnson declared that "the stream of time, which is continually washing
the dissoluble fabrics of other poets, passes without injury by the
adamant of Shakespeare." But Pope and Johnson had ventured to point out,
in the honesty of their criticism, that Shakespeare was not free from
faults; and it was this which the nineteenth century chose to remark.
Johnson's Preface in particular was remembered only to be despised. It is
not rash to say that at the present time the majority of those who chance
to speak of it pronounce it a discreditable performance.
This false attitude to the eighteenth century had its nemesis in the
belief that we were awakened by foreigners to the greatness of
Shakespeare. Even one so eminently sane as Hazlitt lent support to this
opinion. "We will confess," says the Preface to the _Characters of
Shakespeare's Plays_, "that some little jealousy of the character of the
national understanding was not without its share in producing the
following undertaking, for we were piqued that it should be reserved for a
foreign critic to give reasons for the faith which we English have in
Shakespeare"; and the whole Preface resolves itself, however reluctantly,
into praise of Schlegel and censure of Johnson. When a thorough Englishman
writes thus, it is not surprising that Germany should have claimed to be
the first to give Shakespeare his true place. The heresy has been exposed;
but even the slightest investigation of eighteenth-century opinion, or the
mere recollection of what Dryden had said, should have prevented its rise.
Though Hazlitt took upon himself the defence of the national intelligence,
he incorporated in his Preface a long passage from Schlegel, because, in
his opinion, no English critic had shown like enthusiasm or philosophical
acuteness. We cannot regret the delusion if we owe to it the _Characters
of Shakespeare's Plays_, but his patriotic task would have been easier,
and might even have appeared unnecessary, had he known that many of
Schlegel's acute and enthusiastic observations had been anticipated at
home.
Even those who are willing to give the eighteenth century its due have not
recognised how it appreciated Shakespeare. At no time in this century was
he not popular. The author of _Esmond_ tells us that Shakespeare was quite
out of fashion until Steele brought him back into the mode.(1) Theatrical
records would alone be sufficient to show that the ascription of this
honour to Steele is an injustice to his contemporaries. In the year that
the _Tatler_ was begun, Rowe brought out his edition of the "best of our
poets"; and a reissue was called for five years later. It is said by
Johnson(2) that Pope's edition drew the public attention to Shakespeare's
works, which, though often mentioned, had been little read. Henceforward
there was certainly an increase in the number of critical investigations,
but if Shakespeare had been little read, how are we to explain the
coffee-house discussions of which we seem to catch echoes in the
periodical literature? The allusions in the _Spectator_, or the essays in
the _Censor_, must have been addressed to a public which knew him. Dennis,
who "read him over and over and still remained unsatiated," tells how he
was accused, by blind admirers of the poet, of lack of veneration, because
he had ventured to criticise, and how he had appealed from a private
discussion to the judgment of the public. "Above all I am pleased," says
the _Guardian_, "in observing that the Tragedies of Shakespeare, which in
my youthful days have so frequently filled my eyes with tears, hold their
rank still, and are the great support of our theatre."(3) Theobald could
say that "this author is grown so universal a book that there are very few
studies or collections of books, though small, amongst which it does not
hold a place"; and he could add that "there is scarce a poet that our
English tongue boasts of who is more the subject of the Ladies'
reading."(4) It would be difficult to explain away these statements. The
critical interest in Shakespeare occasioned by Pope's edition may have
increased the knowledge of him, but he had been regularly cited, long
before Pope's day, as England's representative genius. To argue that he
had ever been out of favour we must rely on later statements, and they are
presumably less trustworthy than those which are contemporary. Lyttelton
remarked that a veneration for Shakespeare seems to be a part of the
national religion, and the only part in which even men of sense are
fanatics;(5) and Gibbon spoke of the "idolatry for the gigantic genius of
Shakespeare, which is inculcated from our infancy as the first duty of an
Englishman."(6) The present volume will show how the eighteenth century
could almost lose itself in panegyric of Shakespeare. The evidence is so
overwhelming that it is hard to understand how the century's respect for
Shakespeare was ever doubted. When Tom Jones took Partridge to the gallery
of Drury Lane, the play was _Hamlet_. The fashionable topics on which Mr.
Thornhill's friends from town would talk, to the embarrassment of the
Primroses and the Flamboroughs, were "pictures, taste, Shakespeare, and
the musical glasses." The greatest poet of the century played a leading
part in erecting the statue in the Poets' Corner. And it was an
eighteenth-century actor who instituted the Stratford celebrations.
During the entire century Shakespeare dominated the stage. He was more to
the actor then, and more familiar to the theatre-goer, than he is now. It
is true that from Betterton's days to Garrick's, and later, his plays were
commonly acted from mangled versions. But these versions were of two
distinct types. The one respected the rules of the classical drama, the
other indulged the license of pantomime. The one was the labour of the
pedant theorist, the other was rather the improvisation of the theatre
manager. And if the former were truly representative of the taste of the
century, as has sometimes been implied, it has to be explained how they
were not so popular as the latter. "Our taste has gone back a whole
century," says the strolling player in the _Vicar of Wakefield_,(7)
"Fletcher, Ben Jonson, and all the plays of Shakespeare are the only
things that go down." The whole passage is a satire on Garrick(8) and a
gibe at Drury Lane: "The public go only to be amused, and find themselves
happy when they can enjoy a pantomime under the sanction of Jonson's or
Shakespeare's name." But, whatever was done with Shakespeare's plays, they
were the very life of the theatre. When we remember also the number of
editions which were published, and the controversies to which they gave
rise, as well as the fact that the two literary dictators were among his
editors, we are prompted to ask, What century has felt the influence of
Shakespeare more than the eighteenth?
-------------------------------------
The century's interest in Shakespeare shows itself in four main phases.
The first deals with his neglect of the so-called rules of the drama; the
second determines what was the extent of his learning; the third considers
the treatment of his text; and the fourth, more purely aesthetic, shows
his value as a delineator of character. The following remarks take these
questions in order; and a concluding section gives an account of the
individual essays here reprinted. Though the phases are closely connected
and overlap to some extent, the order in which they are here treated
accords in the main with their chronological sequence.
I.
Dryden is the father of Shakespearian criticism. Though he disguised his
veneration at times, he expressed his true faith when he wrote,
deliberately, the fervent estimate in the _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_.
Johnson saw that Pope had expanded it, and his own experience made him say
that the editors and admirers of Shakespeare, in all their emulation of
reverence, had not done much more than diffuse and paraphrase this
"epitome of excellence." But concurrently on to Johnson's time we can
trace the influence of Thomas Rymer, who, in his _Short View of Tragedy_,
had championed the classical drama, and had gone as far in abuse as his
greater contemporary had gone in praise. The authority which each exerted
is well illustrated by Rowe's _Account of Shakespeare_. Rowe is of the
party of Dryden, but he cannot refrain from replying to Rymer, though he
has resolved to enter into no critical controversy. He says he will not
inquire into the justness of Rymer's remarks, and yet he replies to him in
two passages. That these were silently omitted by Pope when he included
the _Account of Shakespeare_ in his own edition in 1725 does not mean that
Rymer was already being forgotten. We know from other sources that Pope
rated his abilities very highly. But the condensed form in which the
_Account_ was regularly reprinted does not convey so plainly as the
original the influence of the rival schools at the beginning of the
eighteenth century. In addition to the passages on Rymer, Pope omitted
several valuable allusions to Dryden. The influence of Dryden, however, is
plain enough. He seems to have been ever present to Rowe, suggesting ideas
to be accepted or refuted. Rowe must have been indebted to the
conversation of Dryden as well as to the researches of Betterton.
Rowe's own dramatic work is an interesting comment on the critical
portions of his _Account of Shakespeare_. When he professes to have taken
Shakespeare as his model,(9) which shows that his editorial work had
taught him the trick of an occasional line contrary to the normal rules of
blank verse. Notwithstanding a brave prologue, he was not able to shake
himself free from the rules, which tightened their grip on English tragedy
till they choked it. His regard for Shakespeare did not give him courage
for the addition of a comic element or an underplot. He must obey the
"hampering critics," though his avowed model had ignored them.
Accordingly, in his more deliberate prose criticism we find, amid his
veneration of Shakespeare, his regard for the rules of the classical
drama. The faults of Shakespeare, we read, were not so much his own as
those of his time, for "tragi-comedy was the common mistake of that age,"
and there was as yet no definite knowledge of how a play should be
constructed.
The burden of Rowe's criticism is that "strength and nature made amends
for art." The line might serve as the text of many of the early
appreciations of Shakespeare. Though the critics all resented Rymer's
treatment of the poet, some of them stood by his doctrines. They might
appease this resentment by protesting against his manners or refuting his
plea for a dramatic chorus; but on the whole they recognised the claims of
the classical models. The more the dramatic fervour failed, the more the
professed critics counselled observance of the rules. In 1702 Farquhar had
pleaded for the freedom of the English stage in his _Discourse upon
Comedy_, but his arguments were unavailing. The duller men found it easier
to support the rigid doctrines, which had been fully expounded by the
French critics. The seventh or supplementary volume of Rowe's edition of
Shakespeare was introduced by Charles Gildon's _Essay on the Art, Rise,
and Progress of the Stage in Greece, Rome, and __ England_, which, as the
title shows, was a laboured exposition of the classical doctrines. Gildon
had begun as an enemy of Rymer. In 1694 he had published _Some Reflections
on Mr. Rymer's Short View of Tragedy and an Attempt at a Vindication of
Shakespeare_. Therein he had spoken of "noble irregularity," and censured
the "graver pedants" of the age. By 1710 he is a grave pedant himself. In
1694 he had said that Rymer had scarce produced one criticism that was not
borrowed from the French writers; in 1710 the remark is now applicable to
its author. Gildon's further descent as a critic is evident eight years
later in his _Complete Art of Poetry_. He is now a slave to the French
doctrine of the rules. He confesses himself the less ready to pardon the
"monstrous absurdities" of Shakespeare, as one or two plays, such as the
_Tempest_, are "very near a regularity." Yet he acknowledges that
Shakespeare abounds in beauties, and he makes some reparation by including
a long list of his finer passages. Gildon was a man whose ideas took their
colour from his surroundings. In the days of his acquaintanceship with
Dryden he appreciated Shakespeare more heartily than when he was left to
the friendship of Dennis or the favours of the Duke of Buckinghamshire.
His _Art of Poetry_ is a dishonest compilation, which owes what value it
has to the sprinkling of contemporary allusions. It even incorporates,
without any acknowledgment, long passages from Sidney's _Apologie_. We
should be tempted to believe that Gildon merely put his name to a
hack-work collection, were it not that there is a gradual deterioration in
his criticism.
John Dennis also replied to Rymer's _Short View_, and was classed
afterwards as one of Rymer's disciples. In his _Impartial Critick_ (1693)
he endeavoured to show that the methods of the ancient Greek tragedy were
not all suitable to the modern English theatre. To introduce a chorus, as
Rymer had recommended, or to expel love from the stage, would, he argued,
only ruin the English drama. But his belief in the classical rules made
him turn the _Merry Wives_ into the _Comical Gallant_. As he found in the
original three actions, each independent of the other, he had set himself
to make the whole "depend on one common centre." In the Dedication to the
letters _On the Genius and Writings of Shakespeare_ we read that
Aristotle, "who may be call'd the Legis
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STORIES***
This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler.
[Picture: Look what a fine morning it is... Insects, Birds, & Animals,
are all enjoying existence]
MARY
WOLLSTONECRAFT’S
ORIGINAL
STORIES
WITH FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS
BY
WILLIAM BLAKE
* * * * *
WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY
E. V. LUCAS
* * * * *
LONDON
HENRY FROWDE
1906
* * * * *
OXFORD: HORACE HART
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION
The germ of the _Original Stories_ was, I imagine, a suggestion (in the
manner of publishers) from Mary Wollstonecraft’s employer, Johnson of St.
Paul’s Churchyard, that something more or less in the manner of Mrs.
Trimmer’s _History of the Robins_, the great nursery success of 1786,
might be a profitable speculation. For I doubt if the production of a
book for children would ever have occurred spontaneously to an author so
much more interested in the status of women and other adult matters.
However, the idea being given her, she quickly wrote the book—in 1787 or
1788—carrying out in it to a far higher power, in Mrs. Mason, the
self-confidence and rectitude of Mrs. Trimmer’s leading lady, Mrs.
Benson, who in her turn had been preceded by that other flawless
instructor of youth, Mr. Barlow. None of these exemplars could do wrong;
but the Mrs. Mason whom we meet in the following pages far transcends the
others in conscious merit. Mrs. Benson in the _History of the Robins_
(with the author of which Mary Wollstonecraft was on friendly terms) was
sufficiently like the Protagonist of the Old Testament to be, when among
Mrs. Wilson’s bees, ‘excessively pleased with the ingenuity and industry
with which these insects collect their honey and wax, form their cells,
and deposit their store’; but Mrs. Mason, as we shall see, went still
farther.
It has to be remembered that the _Original Stories_ were written when the
author was twenty-nine, five years before she met Gilbert Imlay and six
years before her daughter Fanny Imlay was born. I mention this fact
because it seems to me to be very significant. I feel that had the book
been written after Fanny’s birth, or even after the Imlay infatuation, it
would have been somewhat different: not perhaps more entertaining,
because its author had none of that imaginative sympathy with the young
which would direct her pen in the direction of pure pleasure for them;
but more human, more kindly, better. One can have indeed little doubt as
to this after reading those curious first lessons for an infant which
came from Mary Wollstonecraft’s pen in or about 1795, (printed in volume
two of the _Posthumous Works_, 1798), and which give evidence of so much
more tenderness and reasonableness (and at the same time want of Reason,
which may have been Godwin’s God but will never stand in that relation
either to English men or English children) than the monitress of the
_Original Stories_, the impeccable Mrs. Mason, ever suggests. I know of
no early instance where a mother talks down to an infant more prettily:
continually descending herself to its level, yet never with any of Mrs.
Mason’s arrogance and superiority. Not indeed that this poor mother,
with her impulsive warm heart wounded, and most of her illusions gone,
and few kindly eyes resting upon her, could ever have compassed much of
Mrs. Mason’s prosperous self-satisfaction and authority had she wished
to; for in the seven years between the composition of the _Original
Stories_ and the lessons for the minute Fanny Imlay, she had lived an
emotional lifetime, and suffering much, pitied much.
In Lesson X, which I quote, although it says nothing of charity or
kindness, a vastly more human spirit is found than in any of Mrs. Mason’s
homilies on our duty to the afflicted:—
See how much taller you are than William. In four years you have
learned to eat, to walk, to talk. Why do you smile? You can do much
more, you think: you can wash your hands and face. Very well. I
should never kiss a dirty face. And you can comb your head with the
pretty comb you always put by in your own drawer. To be sure, you do
all this to be ready to take a walk with me. You would be obliged to
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Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: The Fathers of Confederation. After a painting by
Robert Harris.]
THE FATHERS OF CONFEDERATION
A Chronicle of the Birth of the Dominion
by
A. H. U. COLQUHOUN
TORONTO
GLASGOW, BROOK & COMPANY
1916
_Copyright in all Countries subscribing to
the Berne Convention_
TO
COLONEL GEORGE T. DENISON
WHOSE LIFE-WORK IS PROOF THAT
LOYALTY TO THE EMPIRE IS
FIDELITY TO CANADA
{ix}
CONTENTS
Page
I. THE DAWN OF THE MOVEMENT ................. 1
II. OBSTACLES TO UNION .................... 11
III. THE EVE OF CONFEDERATION ................. 21
IV. THE HOUR AND THE MEN ................... 30
V. THE CHARLOTTETOWN CONFERENCE ............... 44
VI. THE QUEBEC CONFERENCE................... 56
VII. THE RESULTS OF THE CONFERENCE............... 65
VIII. THE DEBATES OF 1865..................
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Produced by sp1nd, eagkw and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
The
House
Opposite
A Mystery
By
Elizabeth Kent
[Illustration]
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1903
COPYRIGHT 1902
BY
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
Published, August, 1902
Reprinted, January, 1903; March, 1903; October, 1903
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I PAGE
THROUGH MY NEIGHBOUR'S WINDOWS 1
CHAPTER II
I AM INVOLVED IN THE CASE 7
CHAPTER III
A CORONER'S INQUEST 25
CHAPTER IV
UNWILLING WITNESSES 36
CHAPTER V
MRS. ATKINS HOLDS SOMETHING BACK 49
CHAPTER VI
A LETTER AND ITS ANSWER 66
CHAPTER VII
MR. MERRITT INSTRUCTS ME 72
CHAPTER VIII
AN IDENTIFICATION 93
CHAPTER IX
I INSTRUCT MR. MERRITT 107
CHAPTER X
THE MISSING HAT 129
CHAPTER XI
MADAME ARGOT'S MAD HUSBAND 148
CHAPTER XII
A PROFESSIONAL VISIT OUT OF TOWN 160
CHAPTER XIII
MR. AND MRS. ATKINS AT HOME 179
CHAPTER XIV
MY HYSTERICAL PATIENT 198
CHAPTER XV
A SUDDEN FLIGHT 208
CHAPTER XVI
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Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, Lesley Halamek and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team.
MATTHEW ARNOLD'S
SOHRAB AND RUSTUM
AND OTHER POEMS
EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY
JUSTUS COLLINS CASTLEMAN
HEAD OF ENGLISH DEPARTMENT, SOUTH DIVISION
HIGH SCHOOL, MILWAUKEE
1905
CONTENTS
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION
A Short Life of Arnold
Arnold the Poet
Arnold the Critic
Chronological List of Arnold's Works
Contemporary Authors
Bibliography
SELECTIONS FROM ARNOLD'S POETICAL WORKS
NARRATIVE POEMS
Sohrab and Rustum
Saint Brandan
The Forsaken Merman
Tristram and Iseult
LYRICAL POEMS
The Church of Brou
Requiescat
Consolation
A Dream
Lines written in Kensington Gardens
The Strayed Reveller
Morality
Dover Beach
Philomela
Human Life
Isolation--To Marguerite
Kaiser Dead
The Last Word
Palladium
Revolutions
Self-Dependence
A Summer Night
Geist's Grave
Epilogue--To Lessing's Laocooen
SONNETS
Quiet Work
Shakespeare
Youth's Agitations
Austerity of Poetry
Worldly Place
East London
West London
ELEGIAC POEMS
Memorial Verses
The Scholar-Gipsy
Thyrsis
Rugby Chapel
NOTES
INDEX
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION
A SHORT LIFE OF ARNOLD
Matthew Arnold, poet and critic, was born in the village of Laleham,
Middlesex County, England, December 24, 1822. He was the son of Dr.
Thomas Arnold, best remembered as the great Head Master at Rugby and
in later years distinguished also as a historian of Rome, and of Mary
Penrose Arnold, a woman of remarkable character and intellect.
Devoid of stirring incident, and, on the whole, free from the
eccentricities so common to men of genius, the story of Arnold's life
is soon told. As a boy he lived the life of the normal English lad,
with its healthy routine of task and play. He was at school at both
Laleham and Winchester, then at Rugby, where he attracted attention
as a student and won a prize for poetry. In 1840 he was elected to
an open scholarship at Balliol College, Oxford, and the next year
matriculated for his university work. Arnold's career at Oxford was a
memorable one. While here he was associated with such men as John Duke
Coleridge, John Shairp, Dean Fraser, Dean Church, John Henry Newman,
Thomas Hughes, the Froudes, and, closest of all, with Arthur Hugh
Clough, whose early death he lamented in his exquisite elegiac
poem--_Thyrsis_. Among this brilliant company Arnold moved with ease,
the recognized favorite. Having taken the Newdigate prize for English
verse, and also having won a scholarship, he was graduated with
honors in 1844, and in March of the following year had the additional
distinction of being elected a Fellow of Oriel, the crowning glory of
an Oxford graduate. He afterward taught classics for a short time at
Rugby, then in 1847 accepted the post of private secretary to the
Marquis of Lansdowne, Lord President of the Council, which position he
occupied until 1851, when he was appointed Lay Inspector of Schools
by the Committee on Education. The same year he married Frances Lucy
Wightman, daughter of Sir William Wightman, judge of the Court of the
Queen's Bench.
Arnold's record as an educator is unparalleled in the history of
England's public schools. For more than thirty-five years he served as
inspector and commissioner, which offices he filled with efficiency.
As inspector he was earnest, conscientious, versatile; beloved alike
by teachers and pupils. The Dean of Salisbury likened his appearance
to inspect the school at Kiddermaster, to the admission of a ray
of light when a shutter is suddenly opened in a darkened room.
All-in-all, he valued happy-appearing children, and kindly sympathetic
teachers, more than excellence in grade reports. In connection with
the duties of his office as commissioner, he travelled frequently on
the Continent to inquire into foreign methods of primary and secondary
education. Here he found much that was worth while, and often carried
back to London larger suggestions and ideas than the national mind was
ready to accept. Under his supervision, however, the school system of
England was extensively revised and improved. He resigned his position
under the Committee of Council on Education, in 188
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Project Gutenberg Etext of Confiscation, An Outline, by Greenwood
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Title: Confiscation, An Outline
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Blind Policy, by George Manville Fenn.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
BLIND POLICY, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
IN RAYBECK SQUARE.
"Oh, you wicked old woman! Ah, you dare to cry, and I'll send you to
bed."
"No, no, auntie, don't, please. What will dear Isabel think? You're
not going to spoil a delightful evening?"
"Of course she is not. Here, old lady; have another glass of claret--
medicinally."
Dr Chester jumped up, gave his sister and the visitor a merry look,
took the claret to the head of the table and refilled his own glass.
But the lady shook her grey sausage curls slowly, and elaborately began
to unfold a large bordered pocket-handkerchief, puckered up her plump
countenance, gazed piteously at the sweet face on her right, bent her
head over to her charming niece on the left, and then proceeded to up a
few tears.
"No, no, no, Fred; not a drop more. It only makes me worse; I can't
help it, my love."
"Yes, you can, old lady. Come, try and stop it. You'll make Bel cry
too."
"I wish she would, Fred, and repent before it's too late."
"What!" cried the doctor.
"Don't shout at me, my dear. I want to see her repent. It's very nice
to see the carriages come trooping, and to know what a famous doctor you
are; but you don't understand my complaint, Fred."
"Oh yes, I do, old lady. Grumps, eh, Laury?"
"No, no, my dear. It's heart. I've suffered too much, and the sight of
Isabel Lee, here, coming and playing recklessly on the very brink of
such a precipice, is too much for me."
The tears now began to fall fast, and the two girls rose from their
seats simultaneously to try and comfort the sufferer.
"Playing? Precipice?" cried the young doctor. "Step back, Bel dear;
you shouldn't. Auntie, what do you mean?"
"Marriage, my dear, marriage," wailed the old lady.
"Fudge?" cried the doctor. "Here, take your medicine. No; I'll pour
you out a fresh glass. You've poisoned that one with salt water."
"I haven't, Fred."
"You have, madam. I saw two great drops fall in--plop. Come, swallow
your physic. Bel, give her one of those grapes to take after it."
"No, no, no!" cried the old lady, protesting. "Don't, Laury;" but her
niece held the glass to her lips till she gulped the claret down, and it
made her cough, while the visitor exchange glances with the doctor.
"I--I didn't want it, Fred; and it's not fudge. Oh, my dear Isabel, be
warned before it is too late. Marriage is a delusion and a snare."
"Yes, and Bel's caught fast, auntie. Just going to pop her finger into
the golden wire."
"Don't, my dear; be warned in time," cried the old lady, piteously. "I
was once as young and beautiful as you are, and I said yes, and was
married, only to be forsaken at the end of ten years, to become a weary,
unhappy woman, with only three thousand four hundred and twenty-two
pounds left; and it's all melting slowly away, while when it's all gone
Heaven only knows what's to become of me."
"Poor old auntie!" said Laura Chester soothingly, taking the old lady's
head on her shoulder; but it would shake all the same.
"I had a house of my own, and now I have come down to keeping my
nephew's. Don't you marry, my poor child: take warning by me. Men are
so deceitful."
"Wrong, auntie. Men were deceivers ever."
"I'm not wrong, Fred. You've been a very good boy to me, but you're a
grown man now, and though I love you I couldn't trust you a bit."
"Thank you, aunt dear."
"I can't, my love, knowing what I do. Human nature is human nature."
"Aunt dear, for shame!" cried Laura.
"No, my dear, it's no shame, but the simple truth, and I always told
your poor father it was a sin and a crime to expose a young man to such
temptation."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the doctor
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Produced by Chris Curnow, Stephen Hutcheson, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
SCIENTIFIC ROMANCES.
BY
C. H. HINTON, B.A.
What is the Fourth Dimension?
The Persian King.
A Plane World.
A Picture of Our Universe.
Casting Out the Self.
[Illustration: _FIRST SERIES._]
_London._
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LIM.,
Paternoster Square.
1886.
What is the Fourth Dimension?
CHAPTER I.
At the present time our actions are largely influenced by our theories.
We have abandoned the simple and instinctive mode of life of the earlier
civilisations for one regulated by the assumptions of our knowledge and
supplemented by all the devices of intelligence. In such a state it is
possible to conceive that a danger may arise, not only from a want of
knowledge and practical skill, but even from the very presence and
possession of them in any one department, if there is a lack of
information in other departments. If, for instance, with our present
knowledge of physical laws and mechanical skill, we were to build houses
without regard to the conditions laid down by physiology, we should
probably—to suit an apparent convenience—make them perfectly
draught-tight, and the best-constructed mansions would be full of
suffocating chambers. The knowledge of the construction of the body and
the conditions of its health prevent it from suffering injury by the
development of our powers over nature.
In no dissimilar way the mental balance is saved from the dangers
attending an attention concentrated on the laws of mechanical science by
a just consideration of the constitution of the knowing faculty, and the
conditions of knowledge
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Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by The Internet Archive
HOW WE ROBBED MEXICO IN 1848
By Robert H. Howe
1916
[Illustration: 001]
|THERE is one page of our own history that our historians pass over
lightly and to which America cannot point with any feeling of pride,
but only with shame and disgrace. I refer to the Mexican war. When the
causes and results of that war are studied it can be readily understood
why the Mexicans hate us and why the rest of the South American
republics view us with suspicion.
Prior to the Mexican war the Nation was divided over the question of
chattel slavery. That form of property had been abolished north of the
Ohio river and Mason and Dixon line, but altho the South was still in
the saddle, it felt that its seat was by no means secure. At that time
the Nation consisted of 28 states, 14 of them free and 14 slave. States
were admitted to the Union practically in pairs--one free and one slave
state being admitted at the same time. This kept the United States
Senate equally divided. But the more rapid growth of the population in
the free states of the north threatened the political supremacy of the
slave holding power. Wisconsin was applying for admission, and further
west Minnesota, Dakota, Kansas and Nebraska loomed up as future free
states. Louisiana, admitted in 1812, was the western limit of slave
territory. Beyond Louisiana lay Mexico. Adventurers not only permitted,
but encouraged by the slave power, entered Mexico and joined in a
revolt against Mexico, and Texas was declared an independent state.
Negotiations were immediately begun, looking to the annexation of Texas
with the intention of dividing it into four states, and thus securing
the South with a new lease of power
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THE VIZIER OF THE TWO-HORNED ALEXANDER
BY
FRANK R. STOCKTON
1899
PREFATORY NOTE
The story told in this book is based upon legendary history, and the
statements on which it is founded appear in the chronicles of Abou-djafar
Mohammed Tabari. This historian was the first Mussulman to write a general
history of the world. He was born in the year 244 of the Hejira
(838-839 A.D.), and passed a great part of his life in Bagdad, where he
studied and taught theology and jurisprudence. His chronicles embrace the
history of the world, according to his lights, from the creation to the
year 302 of the Hejira.
In these chronicles Tabari relates some of the startling experiences of
El Khoudr, or El Kroudhr, then Vizier of that great monarch, the
Two-Horned Alexander, and these experiences furnish the motive for
those subsequent adventures which are now related in this book.
Some writers have confounded the Two-Horned Alexander with Alexander the
Great, but this is an inexcusable error. References in ancient histories
to the Two-Horned Alexander describe him as a great and powerful
potentate, and place him in the time of Abraham. Mr. S. Baring-Gould, in
his "Legends of the Patriarchs and Prophets," states that, after a careful
examination, he has come to the conclusion that some of the most generally
known legends which have come down to us through the ages are based on
incidents which occurred in the reign of this monarch.
The hero of this story now deems it safe to speak out plainly without
fear of evil consequences to himself, and his confidence in our high
civilization is a compliment to the age.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
I lent large sums to the noble knights
"Don't you do it"
His wife was a slender lady
"Time of Abraham!" I exclaimed
Moses asked embarrassing questions
An encounter with Charles Lamb
I cut that picture from its frame
When we left Cordova
I had been a broker in Pompeii
Solomon and the Jinns
"Go tell the queen"
She gave me her hand, and I shook it heartily
Asking all sorts of questions
And roughly told me
She turned her head
"How like!"
I proceeded to dig a hole
"Why are you not in the army?"
Nebuchadnezzar and the gardener
Petrarch and Laura
The crouching African fixed her eyes
upon him
THE VIZIER OF THE
TWO-HORNED ALEXANDER
I
I was on a French steamer bound from Havre to New York, when I had a
peculiar experience in the way of a shipwreck. On a dark and foggy
night, when we were about three days out, our vessel collided with
a derelict--a great, heavy, helpless mass, as dull and colorless
as the darkness in which she was enveloped. We struck her almost
head on, and her stump of a bowsprit was driven into our port bow
with such tremendous violence that a great hole--nobody knew of what
dimensions--was made in our vessel.
The collision occurred about two hours before daylight, and the frightened
passengers who crowded the upper deck were soon informed by the officers
that it would be necessary to take to the boats, for the vessel was
rapidly settling by the head.
Now, of course, all was hurry and confusion. The captain endeavored
to assure his passengers that there were boats enough to carry every
soul on board, and that there was time enough for them to embark
quietly and in order. But as the French people did not understand him
when he spoke in English, and as the Americans did not readily comprehend
what he said in French, his exhortations were of little avail. With such
of their possessions as they could carry, the people crowded into the
boats as soon as they were ready, and sometimes before they were ready;
and while there was not exactly a panic on board, each man seemed to be
inspired with the idea that his safety, and that of his family, if he had
one, depended upon precipitate individual action.
I was a young man, traveling alone, and while I was as anxious as any
one to be saved from the sinking vessel, I was not a coward, and I
could not thrust myself into a boat when there were women and children
behind me who had not yet been provided with places. There were men
who did this, and several times I felt inclined to knock one of the
poltroons overboard. The deck was well lighted, the steamer was settling
slowly, and there was no excuse for the dastardly proceedings which were
going on about me.
It was not long, however, before almost all of the passengers were
safely embarked, and I was preparing to get into a boat which was
nearly filled with the officers and crew
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 107.
August 11, 1894.
LORD ORMONT'S MATE
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BY-GONE TOURIST DAYS
By-gone Tourist Days
Letters of Travel
By LAURA G. COLLINS
Author of “Immortelles and Asphodels”
ILLUSTRATED
“I consider letters the most vital part of literature”
--_Elizabeth Barrett Browning_
CINCINNATI THE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY 1900
Copyright, 1899,
By The Robert Clarke Company.
INSCRIPTION.
_Respectfully inscribed to the dear friends
to whom the letters were written,
and by them preserved._
CONTENTS.
LONDON LETTER--April 7, 1882,.....1
Trip on the Atlantic--The Steamer Adriatic--Storm
on the Ocean--Chester--English Cathedrals--To
Liverpool--Chatsworth--Stratford--The 318th Anniversary of
Shakespeare--Oxford--Magdalen College--“Addison’s Walk”--New
College--Sir Joshua Reynolds-Window--At Warwick--Bodlean
Library--Ashmolean Museum--Spofford Brooks and Canon Liddon.
LONDON LETTER--June 11, 1882,.....16
Seeing London--Advantage of being in a great city--The boarding-house,
just for Americans--Windsor Palace--Gray’s grave--Moncure Conway--Canon
Farrar--Bostonians--American Cousins--From London on the way to
Scotland.
FROM LONDON TO EDINBURGH--July 4, 1882,.....22
Four hours at York--The Nuns of St. Leonard’s Hospital--St. Mary’s
Abbey--“The Five Sisters”--New-castle-on-Tyne--Durham--The
Cathedral--St. Cuthbert--The Tomb of Bede--The Legend of Bede--Wandering
minstrels--Scenery on the route--The sunset--A Scotch lady--List of
tourists.
SCOTLAND LETTER--July 21, 1882,.....32
Edinburgh--Holyrood Palace--Castle with relics of Mary Queen of
Scots--Alexander Swift says--Of traveling--Dumfermline--The Abbey of
Robert Bruce--Newbattle Abbey.
HEIDELBERG LETTER--August 16, 1882,.....38
In Heidelberg--The Neckar--The places I have been--Sketches over the
line of travel--The scenes visited from England to Heidelberg.
HEIDELBERG LETTER--September 3, 1882,.....41
Heidelberg; this is home--From Nuremberg--The enchantment and charms of
the old city--The streets, buildings, bridges, churches, museums and
galleries--Masterpieces of Durer, Kraft, Stoss and Vischer--The works of
numerous artists--The lime tree--The lamp that has been lighted since
1326--The crown princess--The Exposition--Going back some day--A day of
rest--Cape Colony English ladies--My traveling companion.
BADEN-BADEN--September 19, 1882,.....44
Heidelberg on the Neckar--The castle, the Jettenbühl--“Das Grosse
Fass”--Mapping out Switzerland--The floods--In the Gardens--The Black
Forest--The Oos--The trees on the banks--To Strassburg.
NUREMBERG--September 27, 1883,.....47
From Heidelberg to Nuremberg--Nuremberg the objective point--Ancestors
back to 1570--Up the Neckar--The scenery--Two historic points--Hotels
full--Grand Exposition--Superb attractions--Old lime tree--Durer’s
monument--The princess and family--A wedding--Traveling alone--German
lady--At Baden--Friedrichsbad--The days at Strassburg.
MUNICH LETTER--September 24, 1882,.....60
Old and New Schloss--Trinkhalle and its waters--The great
Friedrichsbad--Strassburg Cathedral--The wonderful clock--St. Thomas
Church, with monument to Marshal Saxe--The Strassburg specialty,
pâtés-de-fois-gras--The attractive city, Constance--Monastery where
Huss was imprisoned--The place where Jerome suffered sentence--From
Constance to Lindau--The beauty of country and scenery--The Alps
again--Words not equal to doing justice--Innumerable places of
attraction--München, the capital of little Bavaria.
MÜNCH
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Unawares
By Frances Peard
Published by Roberts Brothers, Boston.
This edition dated 1872.
Unawares, by Frances Peard.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
UNAWARES, BY FRANCES PEARD.
CHAPTER ONE.
"Quaint old town of toil and traffic."
Longfellow.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You might tell us something, Madame Angelin, since you know so much!"
"Yes, indeed. What is the good of knowing if you keep it to yourself?"
cried a younger woman, impatiently, placing, as she spoke, her basket of
herbs and vegetables upon the broad stone edge of the fountain around
which a little group had gathered.
"Was it a fit?"
"Has Monsieur Deshoulieres gone to him?"
"Is he dead?"
"What becomes of her?"
"Holy Virgin! will the town have to bury him?"
The individual upon whom this volley of shrill questions was directed
was a small, thin, pungent-faced Frenchwoman, who had just filled her
pitcher at the fountain, and stood with hands clasped over her waist,
and with ineffable satisfaction in her twinkling black eyes, looking
upon the excited questioners who crowded round her. It is not given to
everybody to know more than their neighbours, nor, as Veuve Angelin
shrewdly reflected, is it a privilege to be lightly parted with. There
was something very enchanting in the eager attention with which her
information was awaited, and she looked round upon them all with a
patronising benignity, which was, to say the least, irritating. The May
sun was shining brightly over old pointed roofs; the tiny streams
running out of three grim carved heads in the stone fountain danced and
sparkled in its light; the horse-chestnuts stiffly standing round the
little "Place" threw deep shadows on the glaring stones; from one side
sounded the soft wash of an unseen river; old, dilapidated houses were
jumbled together, irrespective of height and size; behind the women, the
town with its clustering houses rose abruptly on the side of a steep
hill, crowned by the lovely spires of the Cathedral; and before them,
only hidden from sight by the buildings of a straggling suburb,
stretched the monotonous plains and sunny cornfields of the granary of
France.
Veuve Angelin smiled indulgently and shook her head. "You young people
think too much of gossip," she said.
"So they do, Marie, so they do," responded an old woman, pushing her
yellow, wizened face through the shoulders of those in front of her.
"In our day things arranged themselves differently: the world was not
the magpie's nest it is now. The young minded their elders, and
conducted themselves sagely, instead of chattering and idling and
going--the saints know whither!"
Veuve Angelin drew herself up. She was by no means pleased with this
ally. "All that may have been in your day, Nannon," she said
spitefully, "but my time was very much the same as this time.
Grandfather Owl always thinks the days grow darker."
"Hear her!" cried the old woman, shrilly. "Has she forgotten the
cherry-trees we used to shake together, the--"
One of the younger of the group interrupted her unceremoniously, "Ta,
ta, Nannon, never mind that now! Tell us, Madame Angelin, whether it is
all true which they say about the poor old gentleman and the beautiful
young demoiselle. _Ciel_! there is the clock striking noon, and I
should have been back from market an hour ago. Quick! we all die of
curiosity;" and she caught some water in the palm of her hand and
sprinkled it over the drooping herbs in her basket, while the others
pressed round more eagerly than ever.
But Veuve Angelin's temper had been roused by Nannon's reminiscences.
"I am going," she said crossly. "No one shall ever accuse me of
gossiping. Monsieur's breakfast has to be prepared by the time he
returns from the Cygne, and with this monster of a pitcher to carry up
the hill, just because the _fille_ who fetches the water is ill--"
"Let me carry your pitcher, Madame Angelin!"
"I will take it to the very door. _Peste_, it is hard if one can't do
so much for one's friends."
"Yes, yes, Fanchon will carry it like a bird. And so Monsieur is
absolutely at the hotel?"
"Bon jour, mesdames," said old Nannon, laughing shrilly. "No one cares
to help me with my basket, I suppose? It is heavy, too: it contains the
clean clothes of my sister's girl, Toinette, a good, hard-working girl
she is, and _fille_ at the Cygne, as you know.--What, Fanchon, my child,
you would carry it! How admirable you are with your attentions to
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THE CASSOWARY
[Illustration: "I HAVE BEEN NARROW," SAID THE MINISTER]
THE CASSOWARY
What Chanced in the Cleft Mountains
BY STANLEY WATERLOO
Author of "The Story of Ab,"
"The Seekers,"
"The Wolf's Long Howl,"
"The Story of a Strange Career,"
Etc., Etc.
PUBLISHERS
MONARCH BOOK COMPANY
CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT 1906 BY
MONARCH BOOK COMPANY
CHICAGO
CONTENTS
Chapter
I. WHAT CHANCED IN THE CLEFT MOUNTAINS
II. A MAN
III. JOHN LIPSKY'S SIGN
IV. A SPECIAL PROVIDENCE
V. THE "FAR AWAY LADY"
VI. THE LIFE LINE
VII. A TOAD AND A SONG
VIII. ALAN MACGREGOR'S BROWN LEG
IX. THE HUGE HOUND'S MOOD
X. THE SIREN
XI. THE PORTER'S STORY
XII. THE PURPLE STOCKING
XIII. HESITANT
XIV. A TEST OF ATTITUDE
XV. A SAMOAN IDYL
XVI. A WOMAN AND SHEEP
XVII. THE ENCHANTED COW
XVIII. LOVE AND A ZULU
XIX. AT BAY SOFTLY
XX. LOVE WILL FIND THE WAY
XXI. A LITERARY LOVE AFFAIR
XXII. ABERCROMBIE'S WOOING
XXIII. EVAN CUMMINGS' COURTSHIP
XXIV. THE SWISS FAMILY ROBERTSON
XXV. THE LOWRY-TURCK LOVE ENTANGLEMENT
XXVI. THE PALE PEACOCK AND THE PURPLE HERRING
XXVII. THE RELEASE
XXVIII. LOVE'S INSOLENCE
XXIX. AT LAST
ILLUSTRATIONS
"THE STOREKEEPER!" HE EXCLAIMED
"I HAVE BEEN NARROW," SAID THE MINISTER
THEY PLUNGED INTO THE WHITENESS
THE GREAT SNAKE BEGAN ITS WORK OF DEGLUTITION
THE BIG BODY RELAXED AND STRAIGHTENED OUT
THE MAYOR HAD BEEN GETTING INTERESTED
THE AWARD COULD BUT GO TO UNA LOA
THE CHILDREN CARRIED AWAY ARMFULS OF FLOWERS
SIR GLADYS ESCORTED THE LADY FLORETTA HOME
HE WAS UNCONSCIOUS AS A CHILD
A DOZEN OR MORE NESTS WERE FOUND
"WE SHALL MEET AT BREAKFAST"
THE CASSOWARY
CHAPTER I
WHAT CHANCED IN THE CLEFT MOUNTAINS
The blizzard snorted and raged at midnight up the narrow pass west of
Pike's Peak, at the bottom of which lay the railroad track, and with
this tumult of the elements the snow was falling in masses which were
caught up and tossed about in the gale until the air was but a white,
swirling, yeasty mass through which nothing could be seen a yard away.
The canyon was filling rapidly and the awful storm showed no sign of
abatement. The passage was not of the narrowest at the place to which
this description refers. The railroad builders had done good work in
what had been little more than a gorge. They had blasted and carried
away after the manner of man who, if resolute enough, must find the way.
He may sweat for it; he may freeze for it, but he attains his end, as he
did in forcing a passage through the vainglorious labyrinths of the
Rockies. So, he had made a road between the towering heights of the
Cleft Mountains. He had done well, but he had left a way so indefensible
that indecent Nature, seeking reprisals, might do almost anything there
in winter. Just now, with the accompanying war-whoop of the roaring
blast, she was building up an enormous buttress across the King's
Highway. The canyon was filled to the depth of many feet, and the
buttress was growing higher every moment.
And, plunging forward from the West toward this buttress of snow, now
came tearing ahead boisterously the trans-continental train from San
Francisco. Its crew had hoped to get through the pass while yet the
thing was possible. On it came at full
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[Illustration: “THAT WAS THE MOMENT OF LIFE”]
MACKINAC AND
LAKE STORIES
By
MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
[Illustration]
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
Copyright, 1899, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._
TO
My Dear Daughter
HAZEL
THE COMPANION OF ALL MY JOURNEYS
CONTENTS
PAGE
MARIANSON 1
THE BLACK FEATHER 20
THE COBBLER IN THE DEVIL'S KITCHEN 34
THE SKELETON ON ROUND ISLAND 54
THE PENITENT OF CROSS VILLAGE 69
THE KING OF BEAVER 89
BEAVER LIGHTS 118
A BRITISH ISLANDER 137
THE CURSED PATOIS 151
THE MOTHERS OF HONORÉ 170
THE BLUE MAN 187
THE INDIAN ON THE TRAIL 202
ILLUSTRATIONS
“THAT WAS THE MOMENT OF LIFE” _Frontispiece_
“SHE LAY BREATHING LIKE AN INFANT” 4
THE TRAIN-AU-GALISE 56
“‘I THINK THE CAMP GO AROUND AND AROUND ME’” 60
“‘I HAVE ALWAYS PRAYED THIS PRAYER ALONE’” 102
“IT'S BROTHER STRANG SERENADING” 104
“‘YOU WILL GIVE YOURSELF TO ME NOW?’” 111
“‘LET ME LOOSE!’ STRUGGLED EMELINE” 115
I WAS STARTLED TO SEE HER RUSH AT THE
CAPTAIN 140
THE QUARTERS 144
“HE APPEARED AT THE DOOR, AND IT WAS HONORÉ” 186
MARIANSON
When the British landed on the west side of Mackinac Island at three
o'clock in the morning of July 17, 1812, Canadians were ordered to
transport the cannon. They had only a pair of six-pounders, but these
had to be dragged across the long alluvial stretch to heights which
would command the fortress, and sand, rock, bushes, trees, and fallen
logs made it a dreadful portage. Voyageurs, however, were men to
accomplish what regulars and Indians shirked.
All but one of the hundred and sixty Canadians hauled with a good will
on the cannon ropes. The dawn was glimmering. Paradise hid in the
untamed island, breathing dew and spice. The spell worked instantly
upon that one young voyageur whose mind was set against the secret
attack. All night his rage had been swelling. He despised the British
regulars—forty-two lords of them only being in this expedition—as they
in turn despised his class. They were his conquerors. He had no desire
to be used as means of pushing their conquest further. These islanders
he knew to be of his own race, perhaps crossed with Chippewa blood.
Seven hundred Indians, painted and horned for war, skulked along as
allies in the dim morning twilight. He thought of sleeping children
roused by tomahawk and scalping-knife in case the surprised fort did
not immediately surrender. Even then, how were a few hundred white men
to restrain nearly a thousand savages?
The young Canadian, as a rush was made with the ropes, stumbled over a
log and dropped behind a bush. His nearest companions scarcely noticed
the desertion in their strain, but the officer instantly detailed an
Indian.
“One of you Sioux bring that fellow back or bring his scalp.”
A Sioux stretched forward and leaped eagerly into the woods. All the
boy's years of wilderness training were concentrated on an escape. The
English officer meant to make him a lesson to the other voyageurs. And
he smiled as he thought of the race he could give the Sioux. All his
arms except his knife were left behind the bush; for fleetness was to
count in this venture. The game of life or death was a pretty one, to
be enjoyed as he shot from tree to tree, or like a noiseless-hoofed
deer made a long stretch of covert. He was alive through every blood
drop. The dewy glory of dawn had never seemed so great. Cool as the
Sioux whom he dodged, his woodsman's eye gathered all aspects of the
strange forest. A detached rock, tall as a tree, raised its colossal
altar, surprising the eye like a single remaining temple pillar. Old
logs, scaled as in a coat of mail, testified to the humidity of this
lush place. The boy trod on sweet white violets smelling of incense.
The wooded deeps unfolded in thinning dusk and revealed a line of high
verdant cliffs walling his course. He dashed through hollows where
millions of ferns bathed him to the knees. As daylight grew—though
it never was quite daylight there—so did his danger. He expected to
hear the humming of an arrow, and perhaps to feel a shock and sting
and cleaving of the bolt, and turned in recklessly to climb for the
uplands, where after miles of jutting spurs the ridge stooped and
pushed out in front of itself a round-topped rock. As the Canadian
passed this rock a yellow flare like candle-light came through a crack
at its base.
He dropped on all-f
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The Riverside Literature Series
Kipling Stories and Poems
Every Child Should Know
BOOK II
_From Rudyard Kipling's The Seven
Seas, The Days Work, Etc._
EDITED BY
MARY E. BURT AND W. T. CHAPIN, PH.D. (Princeton)
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
COPYRIGHT, 1891, 1893, 1894, 1895, 1896, 1897, 1898,
1899, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903, 1907, 1909
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY WOLCOTT BALESTIER
COPYRIGHT, 1892, 1893, 1895, BY MACMILLAN & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1893, 1905, BY D. APPLETON & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1893, 1894, 1897, 1898, BY THE CENTURY COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY HARPER & BROTHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
PUBLISHED, APRIL, 1909
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
* * * * *
CONTENTS
PAGE
Biographical Sketch--Charles Eliot Norton vii
PART IV
(_Continued from Book I, Riverside Literature
Series, No. 257_
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THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.
VOL. XIV, NO. 399.] SUPPLEMENTARY NUMBER. [PRICE 2d.
Verona
[Illustration: Verona.]
SPIRIT OF THE ANNUALS FOR 1830.
Fair and gentle readers, we present you with a kaleidoscopic view of
some of these elegant trifles--the very _bijouterie_ of art and
literature--in picture outmastering each other in gems of ingenuity, and
in print, exalting a thousand beautiful fancies into a halo of harmony
and happiness for the coming year. We call these "trifles," but in the
best sense of the term--ay, the air-plants of literature, whose light
flowers and fancies shoot up and entwine with our best affections, and
even lend a charm to the loveliest of their objects.
We commence with
The Gem,
almost the "youngling of the flock," which contains the original of the
annexed Engraving, by W.J. Cooke, appended to which is the following
illustrative sketch:--
VERONA.
_By Mrs. Maria Callcott_.
The drawing from which our engraving is made, is one of the relics of
the late Mr. Bonington, whose early death has caused such great and just
regret to the lovers of painting. It represents one of those ancient
towers, and one of those magnificent palaces, (the Maffei Palace), which
distinguish the city of Verona, and, by their peculiar character mark it
both as the ancient Gothic capital of northern Italy, and as one of the
great principalities of the middle ages.
Verona is indebted to nature for part of the charms it possesses for a
traveller. It is nearly surrounded by the broad and rapid Adige: the
hills towards the Tyrol have a majestic character, which, as they
approach the city, is
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NEW IRELAND PAMPHLETS. NUMBER THREE
PRICE TWOPENCE
THE ISSUE
The Case for Sinn Fein
BY LECTOR
AS PASSED BY CENSOR.
NEW IRELAND PUBLISHING COMPANY, Limited
13 FLEET STREET, DUBLIN
1918
THE ISSUE
=INDEPENDENCE.=
Does Ireland wish to be free? Do we alone among the ancient Nations of
Europe desire to remain slaves? That, and that alone, is the question
which every Irish elector has now to answer. Let us put everything else
out of our minds as irrelevant claptrap. Let nothing distract us from this
single issue of Liberty. We must turn a deaf ear to sentimental whining
about what this or that man did, his length of service, his "fighting on
the floor of the House," and so on. Whatever may have been done in the way
of small doles, petty grants, and big talk, the =fact= is that we are not
Free and the =issue= is, Do we want to be Free?
Why should we be afraid of Freedom? Would any sane adult voluntarily
prefer to be a slave, to be completely in the control and power of
another? Men do not willingly walk into jail; why, then, should a whole
people? The men who are =afraid= of national liberty are unworthy even of
personal liberty; they are the victims of that slave mentality which
English coercion and corruption have striven to create in Ireland. When
Mr. John Dillon, grown tremulous and garrulous and feeble, asked for a
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. Bold text and
text in blackletter font are delimited with ‘=’.
Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
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KITTY ALONE
MORRISON AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
KITTY ALONE
A STORY OF THREE FIRES
BY
S. BARING GOULD
AUTHOR OF
“IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA” “THE QUEEN OF LOVE”
“MEHALAH” “CHEAP JACK ZITA” ETC. ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. I
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.
LONDON
1894
CONTENTS OF VOL. I
----------
CHAP. PAGE
I. THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE 7
II. A LUSUS NATURÆ 15
III. ALL INTO GOLD 25
IV. THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY 35
V. ON A MUD-BANK 44
VI. A CAPTURE 55
VII. A RELEASE 64
VIII. AN ATMOSPHERE OF LOVE 73
IX. CONVALESCENCE 83
X. THE NEW SCHOOLMASTER 90
XI. DISCORDS 101
XII. DAFFODILS 112
XIII. THE SPIRIT OF INQUIRY 122
XIV. TO THE FAIR 132
XV. A REASON FOR EVERYTHING 140
XVI. THE DANCING BEAR 150
XVII. INSURED 157
XVIII. BRAZIL NUTS 167
KITTY ALONE
CHAPTER I
THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE
With a voice like that of a crow, and singing with full lungs also like
a crow, came Jason Quarm riding in his donkey-cart to Coombe Cellars.
Jason Quarm was a short, stoutly-built man, with a restless grey eye,
with shaggy, long, sandy hair that burst out from beneath a battered
beaver hat. He was somewhat lame, wherefore he maintained a donkey, and
drove about the country seated cross-legged in the bottom of his cart,
only removed from the bottom boards by a wisp of straw, which became
dissipated from under him with the joltings of the conveyance. Then
Jason would struggle to his knees, take the reins in his teeth, scramble
backwards in his cart, rake the straw together again into a heap, reseat
himself, and drive on till the exigencies of the case necessitated his
going through the same operations once more.
Coombe Cellars, which Jason Quarm approached, was a cluster of roofs
perched on low walls, occupying a promontory in the estuary of the
Teign, in the south of Devon. A road, or rather a series of ruts, led
direct to Coombe Cellars, cut deep in the warm red soil; but they led no
farther.
Coombe Cellars was a farmhouse, a depôt of merchandise, an eating-house,
a ferry-house, a discharging wharf for barges laden with coal, a
lading-place for straw, and hay, and corn that had to be carried away on
barges to the stables of Teignmouth and Dawlish. Facing the water was a
little terrace or platform, gravelled, on which stood green benches and
a green table.
The sun of summer had blistered the green paint on the table, and
persons having leisure had amused themselves with picking the skin off
these blisters and exposing the white paint underneath, and then, with
pen or pencil, exercising their ingenuity in converting these bald
patches into human faces, or in scribbling over them their own names and
those of the ladies of their heart. Below the platform at low water the
ooze was almost solidified with the vast accumulation of cockle and
winkle shells thrown over the edge, together with bits of broken plates,
fragments of glass, tobacco-pipes, old handleless knives, and sundry
other refuse of a tavern.
Above the platform, against the wall, was painted in large letters, to
be read across the estuary--
PASCO PEPPERILL,
HOT COCKLES AND WINKLES,
TEA AND COFFEE ALWAYS READY.
Some wag with his penknife had erased the capital H from “Hot,” and had
converted the W in “Winkles” into a V, with the object of accommodating
the written language to the vernacular. One of the most marvellous of
passions seated in the human heart is that hunger after immortality
which, indeed, distinguishes man from beast. This deep-seated and awful
aspiration had evidently consumed the breasts of all the “’ot cockle and
vinkle” eaters on the platform, for there was literally not a spare
space of plaster anywhere within reach which was not scrawled over with
names by these aspirants after immortality.
Jason Quarm was merciful to his beast. Seeing a last year’s teasel by
the wall ten yards from Coombe Cellars’ door, he drew rein, folded his
legs and arms, smiled, and said to his ass--
“There, governor, enjoy yourself.”
The teasel was hard as wood, besides being absolutely devoid of
nutritious juices, which had been withdrawn six months previously. Neddy
would have nothing to say to the teasel.
“You dratted monkey!” shouted Quarm, irritated at the daintiness of the
ass. “If you won’t eat, then go on.” He knelt up in his cart and whacked
him with a stick in one hand and the reins in the other. “I’ll teach you
to be choice. I’ll make you swaller a holly-bush. And if there ain’t
relish enough in that to suit your palate, I’ll buy a job lot of old
Perninsula bayonets and make you munch them. That’ll be chutney, I
reckon, to the likes of you.”
Then, as he threw his lame leg over the side of the cart, he said,
“Steady, old man, and hold your breath whilst I’m descending.”
No sooner was he on his feet, than, swelling his breast and stretching
his shoulders, with a hand on each hip, he crowed forth--
“There was a frog lived in a well,
Crock-a-mydaisy, Kitty alone!
There was a frog lived in a well,
And a merry mouse lived in a mill,
Kitty alone and I.”
The door opened, and a man stood on the step and waved a salutation to
Quarm. This man was powerfully built. He had broad shoulders and a short
neck. What little neck he possessed was not made the most of, for he
habitually drew his head back and rested his chin behind his stock. This
same stock or muffler was thick and folded, filling the space left open
by the waistcoat, out of which it protruded. It was of blue strewn with
white spots, and it gave the appearance as though pearls dropped from
the mouth of the wearer and were caught in his muffler before they fell
and were lost. The man had thick sandy eyebrows, and very pale eyes. His
structure was disproportioned. With such a powerful body, stout nether
limbs might have been anticipated for its support. His thighs were,
indeed, muscular and heavy, but the legs were slim, and the feet and
ankles small. He had the habit of standing with his feet together, and
thus presented the shape of a boy’s kite.
“Hallo, Pasco--brother-in-law!” shouted Quarm, as he threw the harness
off the ass; “look here, and see what I have been a-doing.”
He turned the little cart about, and exhibited a plate nailed to the
backboard, on which, in gold and red on black, figured, “The Star and
Garter Life and Fire Insurance.”
“What!” exclaimed Pepperill; “insured Neddy and the cart, have you? That
I call chucking good money away, unless you have reasons for thinking
Ned will go off in spontaneous combustion.”
“Not so, Pasco,” laughed Jason; “it is the agency I have got. The Star
and Garter knows that I am the sort of man they require, that wanders
over the land and has the voice of a nightingale. I shall have a policy
taken out for you shortly, Pasco.”
“Indeed you shall not.”
“Confiscate the donkey if I don’t. But I’ll not trouble you on this
score now. How is the little toad?”
“What--Kate?”
“To be sure, Kitty Alone.”
“Come and see. What have you been about this time, Jason?”
“Bless you! I have hit on Golconda. Brimpts.”
“Brimpts? What do you mean?”
“Don’t you know Brimpts?”
“Never heard of it. In India?”
“No; at Dart-meet, beyond Ashburton.”
“And what of Brimpts? Found a diamond mine there?”
“Not that, but oaks, Pasco, oaks! A forest two hundred years old, on
Dartmoor. A bit of the primæval forest; two hundred--I bet you--five
hundred years old. It is not in the Forest, but on one of the ancient
tenements, and the tenant has fallen into difficulties with the bank,
and the bank is selling him up. Timber, bless you! not a shaky stick
among the lot; all heart, and hard as iron. A fortune--a fortune, Pasco,
is to be picked up at Brimpts. See if I don’t pocket a thousand pounds.”
“You always see your way to making money, but never get far for’ard
along the road that leads to good fortune.”
“Because I never have had the opportunity of doing more than see my way.
I’m crippled in a leg, and though I can see the road before me, I cannot
get along it without an ass. I’m crippled in purse, and though I can
discern the way to wealth, I can’t take it--once more--without an ass.
Brother-in-law, be my Jack, and help me along.”
Jason slapped Pasco on the broad shoulders.
“And you make a thousand pounds by the job?”
“So I reckon--a thousand at the least. Come, lend me the money to work
the concern, and I’ll pay you at ten per cent.”
“What do you mean by ‘work the concern’?”
“Pasco, I must go before the bank at Exeter with money in my hand, and
say, I want those wretched scrubs of oak and holm at Brimpts. Here’s a
hundred pounds. It’s worthless, but I happen to know of a fellow as will
put a five pound in my pocket if I get him some knotty oak for a bit of
fancy-work he’s on. The bank will take it, Pasco. At the bank they will
make great eyes, that will say as clear as words, Bless us! we didn’t
know there was oak grew on Dartmoor. They’ll take the money, and
conclude the bargain right on end. And then I must have some ready cash
to pay for felling.”
“Do you think that the bank will sell?”
“Sell? it would sell anything--the soil, the flesh off the moors, the
bones, the granite underneath, the water of heaven that there gathers,
the air that wafts over it--anything. Of course, it will sell the
Brimpts oaks. But, brother-in-law, let me tell you, this is but the
first stage in a grand speculative march.”
“What next?”
“Let me make my thousand by the Brimpts oaks, and I see waves of gold
before me in which I can roll. I’ll be generous. Help me to the oaks,
and I’ll help you to the gold-waves.”
“How is all this to be brought about?”
“Out of mud, old boy, mud!”
“Mud will need a lot of turning to get gold out of it.”
“Ah! wait till I’ve tied up Neddy.”
Jason Quarm hobbled off with his ass, and turned it loose in a paddock.
Then he returned to his brother-in-law, hooked his finger into the
button-hole of Pepperill, and said, with a wink--
“Did you never hear of the philosopher’s stone, that converts whatever
it touches into gold?”
“I’ve heard some such a tale, but it is all lies.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Never!” Pasco started, and turned round and stared at his
brother-in-law in sheer amazement.
“I have it. Here it is,” and he touched his head. “Believe me, Pasco,
this is the true philosopher’s stone. With this I find oaks where the
owners believed there grew but furze; with this I bid these oaks bud
forth and bear bank-notes. And with this same philosopher’s stone I
shall transform your Teign estuary mud into golden sovereigns.”
“Come in.”
“I will; and I’ll tell you how I’ll do it, if you will help me to the
Brimpts oaks. That is step number one.”
CHAPTER II
A LUSUS NATURÆ
The two men entered the house talking, Quarm lurching against his
companion in his uneven progress; uneven, partly because of his lame
leg, partly because of his excitement; and when he wished to urge a
point in his argument, he enforced it, not only by raised tone of voice
and cogency of reasoning, but also by impact of his shoulder against
that of Pepperill.
In the room into which they penetrated sat a girl in the bay window
knitting. The window was wide and low, for the ceiling was low. It had
many panes in it of a greenish hue. It commanded the broad firth of the
river Teign. The sun was now on the water, and the glittering water cast
a sheen of golden green into the low room and into the face of the
knitting girl. It illumined the ceiling, revealed all its cracks, its
cobwebs and flies. The brass candlesticks and skillets and copper
coffee-pots on the chimney-piece shone in the light reflected from the
ceiling.
The girl was tall, with a singularly broad white brow, dark hair, and
long lashes that swept her cheek. The face was pale, and when in repose
it could not be readily decided whether she were good-looking or plain,
but all hesitation vanished when she raised her great violet eyes, full
of colour and sparkling with the light of intelligence.
The moment that Quarm entered she dropped the knitting on which she was
engaged; a flash of pleasure, a gleam of colour, mounted to eyes and
cheeks; she half rose with timidity and hesitation, but as Quarm
continued in eager conversation with Pepperill, and did not notice her,
she sank back into her sitting posture, the colour faded from her cheek,
her eyes fell, and a quiver of the lips and contraction of the mouth
indicated distress and pain.
“How is it possible to turn mud into gold?” asked Pepperill.
“Wait till I have coined my oak and I will do it.”
“I can understand oaks. The timber is worth something, and the bark
something, and the tops sell for firewood; but mud--mud is mud.”
“Well, it is mud. Let me light my pipe. I can’t talk without my ’baccy.”
Jason put a spill to the fire, seated himself on a stool by the hearth,
ignited his pipe, and then, turning his eye about, caught sight of the
girl.
“Hallo, little Toad!” said he; “how are you?”
Then, without waiting for an answer, he returned to the mud.
“Look here, Pasco, the mud is good for nothing where it is.”
“No. It is a nuisance. It chokes the channel. I had a deal of trouble
with the last coal-barge; she sank so deep I thought she’d be smothered
and never got in.”
“That’s just it. You would pay something to have it cleared--dredged
right away.”
“I don’t know about that. The expense would be great.”
“You need not pay a half-crown. It isn’t India only whose shining
fountains roll down their golden sands. It is Devonshire as well, which
pours the river Teign clear as crystal out of its Dartmoor reservoir,
and which is here ready to empty its treasures into my pockets and
yours. But we must dispose of Brimpts oak first.”
“I’d like to know how you are going to do anything with mud.”
“What is mud but clay in a state of slobber? Now, hearken to me,
brother-in-law. I have been where the soil is all clay, clay that would
grow nothing but moss and rushes, and was not worth more than five
shillings an acre, fit for nothing but for letting young stock run on.
That is out Holsworthy way. Well, a man with the philosopher’s stone in
his head, Goldsworthy Gurney, he cut a canal from Bude harbour right
through this arrant clay land. With what result? The barges travel up
from Bude laden with sand. The farmers use the sand over their clay
fields, and the desert blossoms as the rose. Land that was worth four
shillings went up to two pound ten, and in places near the canal to five
pounds. The sand on the seashore is worthless. The clay inland is
worthless, but the sand and clay married breed moneys, moneys, my
boy--golden moneys.”
“That is reasonable enough,” said Pasco Pepperill, “but it don’t apply
here. We are on the richest of red soil, that wants no dressing, so full
of substance is it in itself. Besides, the mud is nothing but our red
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CONFESSIONS AND CRITICISMS
BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. A PRELIMINARY CONFESSION
II. NOVELS AND AGNOSTICISM
III. AMERICANISM IN FICTION
IV. LITERATURE FOR CHILDREN
V. THE MORAL AIM IN FICTION
VI. THE MAKER OF MANY BOOKS
VII. MR. MALLOCK'S MISSING SCIENCE
VIII. THEODORE WINTHROP'S WRITINGS
IX. EMERSON AS AN AMERICAN
X. MODERN MAGIC
XI. AMERICAN WILD ANIMALS IN ART
CONFESSIONS AND CRITICISMS.
CHAPTER I.
A PRELIMINARY CONFESSION.
In 1869, when I was about twenty-three years old, I sent a couple of
sonnets to the revived _Putnam's Magazine_. At that period I had no
intention of becoming a professional writer: I was studying civil
engineering at the Polytechnic School in Dresden, Saxony. Years before,
I had received parental warnings--unnecessary, as I thought--against
writing for a living. During the next two years, however, when I was
acting as hydrographic engineer in the New York Dock Department, I
amused myself by writing a short story, called "Love and Counter-Love,"
which was published in _Harper's Weekly_, and for which I was paid
fifty dollars. "If fifty dollars can be so easily earned," I thought,
"why not go on adding to my income in this
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material from the Google Print project.)
* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has |
| been preserved. |
| |
| Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For |
| a complete list, please see the end of this document. |
| |
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
* * * * *
CHRISTIANITY AS
MYSTICAL FACT
AND
THE MYSTERIES OF ANTIQUITY
BY
DR. RUDOLF STEINER
AUTHOR OF "MYSTICS OF THE RENAISSANCE," "THE GATES
OF KNOWLEDGE," ETC.
_THIRD EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED_
EDITED BY H. COLLISON
THE AUTHORIZED ENGLISH TRANSLATION
G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1914
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY
H. COLLISON
The copyrights, the publishing rights, and the editorial
responsibility for the translations of the works of Rudolf Steiner,
Ph.D., with the exception of those already published under the
editorial supervision of Mr. Max Gysi, are now vested in Mr. Harry
Collison, M.A., Oxon.
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
_Christianity as Mystical Fact_ was the title given by the author to
this work, when, eight years ago, he gathered into it the substance of
lectures delivered by him in 1902. The title indicated the special
character of the book. In it the attempt was made, not merely to
represent historically the mystical content of Christianity, but to
describe the origin of Christianity from the standpoint of mystical
contemplation. Underlying this intention was the thought that at the
genesis of Christianity mystical facts were at work which can only be
perceived by such contemplation.
It is only the book itself which can make clear that by "mystical" its
author does not imply a conception which relies more on vague feelings
than on "strictly scientific statements." It is true that "mysticism"
is at present widely understood in the former sense, and hence it is
declared by many to be a sphere of the human soul-life with which
"true science" can have nothing to do. In this book the word
"mysticism" is used in the sense of the representation of a spiritual
fact, which can only be recognised in its true nature when the
knowledge of it is derived from the sources of spiritual life itself.
If the kind of knowledge drawn from such sources is rejected, the
reader will not be in a position to judge of the contents of this
book. Only one who allows that the same clearness may exist in
mysticism as in a true representation of the facts of natural science,
will be ready to admit that the content of Christianity as mysticism
may also be mystically described. For it is not only a question of the
contents of the book, but first and foremost of the methods of
knowledge by means of which the statements in it are made.
Many there are in the present day who have a most violent dislike to
such methods, which are regarded as conflicting with the ways of true
science. And this is not only the case with those willing to admit
other interpretations of the world than their own, on the ground of
"genuine knowledge of natural science," but also with those who as
believers wish to study the nature of Christianity.
The author of this book stands on the ground of a conception which
sees that the achievements of natural science in our age must lead up
into true mysticism. In fact, any other attitude as regards knowledge
actually contradicts everything presented by the achievements of
natural science. The facts of natural science itself indeed cannot be
comprehended by means of those methods of knowledge which so many
people would like to employ to the exclusion of others, under the
illusion that they stand on the firm ground of natural science. It is
only when we are prepared to admit that a full appreciation of our
present admirable knowledge of nature is compatible with genuine
mysticism, that we can take the contents of this book into
consideration.
The author's intention is to show, by means of what is here called
"mystical knowledge," how the source of Christianity prepared its own
ground in the mysteries of pre-Christian times. In this pre-Christian
mysticism we find the soil in which Christianity throve, as a germ of
quite independent nature. This point of view makes it possible to
understand Christianity in its independent being, even though its
evolution is traced from pre-Christian mysticism. If this point of
view be overlooked, it is very possible to misunderstand that
independent character, and to think that Christianity was merely a
further development of what already existed in pre-Christian
mysticism. Many people of the present day have fallen into this error,
comparing the content of Christianity with pre-Christian conceptions,
and then thinking that Christian ideas were only a continuation of the
former. The following pages are intended to show that Christianity
presupposes the earlier mysticism just as a seed must have its soil.
It is intended to emphasise the peculiar character of the essence of
Christianity, through the knowledge of its evolution, but not to
extinguish it.
It is with deep satisfaction that the author is able to mention that
this account of the nature of Christianity has found acceptance with
a writer who has enriched the culture of our time in the highest sense
of the word, by his important works on the spiritual life of humanity.
Edouard Schure, author of _Les Grands Inities_,[1] is so far in accord
with the attitude of this
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[A transcriber's note follows the text.]
THE BRITISH STATE
TELEGRAPHS
[Illustration: MacMillan Company logo]
THE BRITISH STATE
TELEGRAPHS
A STUDY OF THE PROBLEM OF A LARGE BODY OF
CIVIL SERVANTS IN A DEMOCRACY
BY
HUGO RICHARD MEYER
SOMETIME ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL ECONOMY IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, AUTHOR OF "GOVERNMENT
REGULATION OF RAILWAY RATES;" "MUNICIPAL
OWNERSHIP IN GREAT BRITAIN"
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1907
_All right reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1907
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Set up and electrotyped. Published October 1907
THE MASON-HENRY PRESS
SYRACUSE, NEW YORK
TO MY BROTHER
PREFACE
In order to keep within reasonable limits the size of this volume, the
author has been obliged to reserve for a separate volume the story of
the Telephone in Great Britain. The series of books promised in the
Preface to the author's _Municipal Ownership in Great Britain_ will,
therefore, number not four, but five.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION 3
Scope of the inquiry.
CHAPTER II
THE ARGUMENT FOR THE NATIONALIZATION OF THE TELEGRAPHS 13
The indictment of
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{117}
NOTES AND QUERIES:
A MEDIUM OF INTER-COMMUNICATION FOR LITERARY MEN, ARTISTS, ANTIQUARIES,
GENEALOGISTS, ETC.
"When found, make a note of."--CAPTAIN CUTTLE.
* * * * *
No. 224.]
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 11. 1854
[Price Fourpence. Stamped Edition 5d.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
NOTES:-- Page
Eliminate, by C. Mansfield Ingleby 119
Cranmer's Bible 119
Sovereigns Dining and Supping in Public 120
Parallel Ideas from Poets, by Norris Deck 121
The great Alphabetic Psalm, and the Songs of Degrees,
by T. J. Buckton 121
MINOR NOTES:--Inscription on a Grave-stone in Whittlebury
Churchyard, Northamptonshire--Epitaph on Sir Henry
St. George--Newton and Milton--Eternal Life--Inscriptions
in Books--Churchill's Grave 122
QUERIES:--
Coronation Stone 123
Old Mereworth Castle, Kent 124
MINOR QUERIES:--"I could not love thee, dear, so much"--
Leicester as Ranger of Snowden--Crabb of Telsford--
Tolling the Bell while the Congregation is leaving
Church--O'Brien of Thosmond--Order of St. David of
Wales--Warple-way--Purlet--Liveries, Red and Scarlet--
Dr. Bragge--Chauncy, or Chancy--Plaster Casts--
[Greek: Sikera]--Dogs in Monumental Brasses 125
MINOR QUERIES WITH ANSWERS:--Marquis of Granby--
"Memorials of English Affairs," &c.--Standing when the
Lord's Prayer is read--Hypocrisy, &c. 127
REPLIES:--
"Consilium Novem Delectorum Cardinalium," &c.,
by B. B. Woodward 127
John Bunyan, by George Offor 129
The Asteroids, &c., by J. Wm. Harris 129
Caps at Cambridge, by C. H. Cooper 130
Russia, Turkey, and the Black Sea, by John Macray 132
High Dutch and Low Dutch, by Professor Goedes de Grueter 132
PHOTOGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE:--The Calotype on the Sea-shore 134
REPLIES TO MINOR QUERIES:--Ned o' the Todding--Hour-Glasses
and Inscriptions on Old Pulpits--Table-turning--"Firm was
their faith"--The Wilbraham Cheshire MS.--Mousehunt--
Begging the Question--Termination "-by"--German Tree--
Celtic Etymology--Recent Curiosities of Literature--
D. O. M.--Dr. John Taylor--Lines attributed to Hudibras
--"Corporations have no Souls," &c.--Lord Mayor of London
a Privy Councillor--Booty's Case--"Sat cito, si sat
bene"--Celtic and Latin Languages--Brydone the Tourist's
Birth-place 135
MISCELLANEOUS:--
Notes on Books, &c. 138
Books and Odd Volumes wanted 138
Notices to Correspondents 139
* * * * *
SCIENTIFIC RECREATION FOR YOUTH--EXPERIMENTAL CHEMISTRY.
AMUSEMENT FOR LONG EVENINGS, by means of STATHAM'S Chemical Cabinets and
Portable Laboratories, 5s. 6d., 7s. 6d., 10s. 6d., 21s., 31s. 6d., 43s.,
63s., and upwards. Book of Experiments. 6d. "Illustrated Descriptive
Catalogue" forwarded Free for Stamp.
WILLIAM F. STATHAM. Operative Chemist, 29c. Rotherfield Street, Islington,
London, and of Chemists and Opticians everywhere.
* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC SOCIETY.--THE EXHIBITION OF PHOTOGRAPHS AND DAGUERREOTYPES is
now open at the Gallery of the Society of British Artists, Suffolk Street,
Pall Mall, in the Morning from 10 A.M. to half-past 4 P.M., and in the
Evening from 7 to 10 P.M. Admission 1s. Catalogue 6d.
* * * * *
PHOTOGRAPHIC INSTITUTION.--An EXHIBITION of PICTURES, by the most
celebrated French, Italian, and English Photographers, embracing Views of
the principal Countries and Cities of Europe, is now OPEN. Admission 6d. A
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E-text prepared by Al Haines
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 26136-h.htm or 26136-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/6/1/1/26136/26136-h/26136-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/6/1/1/26136/26136-h.zip)
Transcriber's note:
Page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in
curly braces, e.g. {99}. They have been located where page
breaks occurred in the original book. For its Index, a page
number has been placed only at the start of that section.
THE WORSHIP OF THE CHURCH
And the Beauty of Holiness
by
J. A. REGESTER, S.T.D.
Rector of St. Paul's Church, Buffalo, N. Y.
"Oh, may I dwell in His Temple blest,
As long as my life may be,
And the beauty fair of the Lord of Hosts,
In the home of His glory see!"
BISHOP COXE, _Christian Ballads_
New York
James Pott & Company
285 Fourth Avenue
1898
Copyright, 1898, by
James Pott & Co.
First Edition. Printed, January, 1898.
Second Edition, Revised. Printed, May, 1898.
Preface
The material in this manual is, so far as known, accessible only in a
number of books. Obligation to those from which it has been gathered
has not been expressed by references, which must have marked nearly
every page, but, instead, a list has been appended which may be
consulted if it is desired to verify statements or to study more fully
any subject presented.
The object in view has not been to discuss the propriety, or
lawfulness, or obligation of any matter referred to, but simply to give
information.
Contents
PAGE
WORSHIP ..................... 7
THE CHURCH, THE PLACE OF WORSHIP......... 11
SYMBOLISM OF THE CHURCH BUILDING......... 17
ARRANGEMENT AND FURNITURE OF THE CHURCH ..... 37
SYMBOLIC ORNAMENTS OF THE CHURCH......... 51
HOW TO USE THE PRAYER-BOOK............ 92
DEVOUT CUSTOMS AND USAGES ............ 103
LIST OF BOOKS FOR REFERENCE ........... 119
INDEX ...................... 121
{7}
_The Beauty of Holiness_
_Worship_
The worship of Almighty God is one of the characteristic acts of
humanity. The brute looks up to heaven, but man alone looks up with
thought of God and to adore. "The entire creation grew together to
reflect and repeat the glory of God, and yet the echo of God slumbered
in the hollow bowels of the dumb earth until there was one who could
wake up the shout by a living voice. Man is the first among the
creatures to deliver back from the rolling world this conscious and
delicious response, the recognition of the Father who begat him. He,
and he alone, is nature's priest, her spokesman, her mediator."
{8}
The idea of worship, in which the crown and glory of manhood thus has
expression, "includes all those acts which make up the devotional duty
of the soul to Almighty God." Our private and family devotions are
acts of worship. They enter into its obligation, are comprehended by
it, but do not fill it out. They are not sufficient alone. The due
acknowledgment before others of our belief in and reverence for God,
the blessings which attend only upon the use of united praise and
prayer and of Sacraments, the honor of God, the rendering of "thanks
for the great benefits that we have received at His hands," the setting
forth of "His most worthy praise,"--all demand the public act of
worship.
The obligation and privilege of such worship cannot be too greatly
exalted. It is not a matter of inclination merely; it is an imperative
duty, the discharge of which may not be regulated by considerations of
convenience, or indolence, or pleasure. To neglect it, is to dishonor
God, to withhold what is His due. It is also to dishonor ourselves, to
violate our own noblest instincts. No other act of which we as men are
capable is so dignified or so worthy of ourselves. Not to worship is
to debase ourselves.
This duty and privilege of worship the church and the Prayer-Book help
us
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THE SPOILERS
By REX BEACH
Author of "THE AUCTION BLOCK" "RAINBOW'S END" "THE IRON TRAIL" Etc.
Illustrated
THIS BOOK
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE ENCOUNTER
II. THE STOWAWAY
III. IN WHICH GLENISTER ERRS
IV. THE KILLING
V. WHEREIN A MAN APPEARS
VI. AND A MINE IS JUMPED
VII. THE "BRONCO KID'S" EAVESDROPPING
VIII. DEXTRY MAKES A CALL
IX. SLUICE ROBBERS
X. THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS
XI. WHEREIN A WRIT AND A RIOT FAIL
XII. COUNTERPLOTS
XIII. IN WHICH A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL
XIV. A MIDNIGHT MESSENGER
XV. VIGILANTES
XVI. IN WHICH THE TRUTH BEGINS TO BARE ITSELF
XVII. THE DRIP OF WATER IN THE DARK
XVIII. WHEREIN A TRAP IS BAITED
XIX. DYNAMITE
XX. IN WHICH THREE GO TO THE SIGN OF THE SLED AND BUT TWO RETURN
XXI. THE HAMMER-LOCK
XXII. THE PROMISE OF DREAMS
CHAPTER I
THE ENCOUNTER
Glenister gazed out over the harbor, agleam with the lights of anchored
ships, then up at the crenelated mountains, black against the sky. He
drank the cool air burdened with its taints of the sea, while the blood
of his boyhood leaped within him.
"Oh, it's fine--fine," he murmured, "and this is my country--my
country, after all, Dex. It's in my veins, this hunger for the North. I
grow. I expand."
"Careful you don't bust," warned Dextry. "I've seen men get plumb drunk
on mountain air. Don't expand too strong in one spot." He went back
abruptly to his pipe, its villanous fumes promptly averting any danger
of the air's too tonic quality.
"Gad! What a smudge!" sniffed the younger man. "You ought to be in
quarantine."
"I'd ruther smell like a man than talk like a kid. You desecrate the
hour of meditation with rhapsodies on nature when your aesthetics ain't
honed up to the beauties of good tobacco."
The other laughed, inflating his deep chest. In the gloom he stretched
his muscles restlessly, as though an excess of vigor filled him.
They were lounging upon the dock, while before them lay the Santa Maria
ready for her midnight sailing. Behind slept Unalaska, quaint, antique,
and Russian, rusting amid the fogs of Bering Sea. Where, a week before,
mild-eyed natives had dried their cod among the old bronze cannon, now
a frenzied horde of gold-seekers paused in their rush to the new El
Dorado. They had come like a locust cloud, thousands strong, settling
on the edge of the Smoky Sea, waiting the going of the ice that barred
them from their Golden Fleece--from Nome the new, where men found
fortune in a night.
The mossy hills back of the village were ridged with graves of those
who had died on the out-trip the fall before, when a plague had gripped
the land--but what of that? Gold glittered in the sands, so said the
survivors; therefore men came in armies. Glenister and Dextry had left
Nome the autumn previous, the young man raving with fever. Now they
returned to their own land.
"This air whets every animal instinct in me," Glenister broke out
again. "Away from the cities I turn savage. I feel the old primitive
passions--the fret for fighting."
"Mebbe you'll have a chance."
"How so?"
"Well, it's this way. I met Mexico Mullins this mornin'. You mind old
Mexico, don't you? The feller that relocated Discovery Claim on Anvil
Creek last summer?"
"You don't mean that 'tin-horn' the boys were going to lynch for
claim-jumping?"
"Identical! Remember me tellin' you about a good turn I done him once
down Guadalupe way?"
"Greaser shooting-scrape, wasn't it?"
"Yep! Well, I noticed first off that he's gettin fat; high-livin' fat,
too, all in one spot, like he was playin' both ends ag'in the centre.
Also he wore di'mon's fit to handle with ice-tongs.
"Says I, lookin' at his side elevation, 'What's accented your middle
syllable so strong, Mexico?'
"'Prosperity, politics
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Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE WRITINGS OF THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA, AND MY COUSIN THE COLONEL
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
1907
CONTENTS
I. MARY
II. IN WHICH THERE IS A FAMILY JAR
III. IN WHICH MARY TAKES A NEW DEPARTURE
IV. THE ODD ADVENTURE WHICH BEFELL YOUNG LYNDE IN THE HILL COUNTRY
V. CINDERELLA'S SLIPPER
VI. BEYOND THE SEA
VII. THE DENHAMS
VIII. FROM GENEVA TO CHAMOUNI
IX. MONTANVERT
X. IN THE SHADOW OF MONT BLANC
XI. FROM CHAMOUNI TO GENEVA
MY COUSIN THE COLONEL
"FOR BRAVERY ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE"
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA
I
MARY
In the month of June, 1872, Mr. Edward Lynde, the assistant cashier and
bookkeeper of the Nautilus Bank at Rivermouth, found himself in a
position to execute a plan which he had long meditated in secret.
A statement like this at the present time, when integrity in a place of
trust has become almost an anomaly, immediately suggests a defalcation;
but Mr. Lynde's plan involved nothing more criminal than a horseback
excursion through the northern part of the State of New Hampshire. A
leave of absence of three weeks, which had been accorded him in
recognition of several years' conscientious service, offered young
Lynde the opportunity he had desired. These three weeks, as already
hinted, fell in the month of June, when Nature in New Hampshire is in
her most ravishing toilet
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