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Produced by KD Weeks, Ted Garvin and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note
Footnotes have been placed at the end of each paragraph in which they
are referenced.
There are several captioned photographs, which are indicated as
[Illustration: Caption]. Hearn also included in his letters small
sketches. Their approximate positions are indicated with [Illustration].
Any handwritten text in those sketches is included here as captions.
Italic text is denoted with underscores as _italic_. There is a small
amount of Greek which is transliterated and enclosed in brackets as
[Larkadie]. The characters 'o', 'a' and 'u' appear with a macron, a
straight bar atop the letter. These use the '=' sign as 'T[=o]ky[=o]'.
The occasional superscript is simply left inline (e.g., 'nth'). The use
of subscripts is limited to a single instance. The underscore character
indicates this: L_3 H_9 NG_4.
The sole instance of the 'oe' ligature is given as is seen here:
'onomatopoeia'.
Some corrections were made where printer's errors were most likely,
as described in the Note at the end of the text. Other than those
corrections, no changes to spelling have been made. Hyphenation of
words at line or page breaks are removed if other instances of the word
warrant it.
This book was published in two volumes, of which this is the first.
The second volume was released as Project Gutenberg ebook #42313,
available at: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42313.
+--------------------------------------------------------+
| By Lafcadio Hearn |
| |
| THE ROMANCE OF THE MILKY WAY, AND OTHER STUDIES AND |
| STORIES. 12mo, gilt top, $1.25 _net._ Postage |
| extra. |
| |
| KWAIDAN: Stories and Studies of Strange Things. With |
| two Japanese Illustrations. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50. |
| |
| GLEANINGS IN BUDDHA-FIELDS. 16mo, gilt top, $1.25. |
| |
| KOKORO. Hints and Echoes of Japanese Inner Life. 16mo, |
| gilt top, $1.25. |
| |
| OUT OF THE EAST. Reveries and Studies in New Japan. |
| 16mo, $1.25. |
| |
| GLIMPSES OF UNFAMILIAR JAPAN. 2 vols. crown 8vo, gilt |
| top, $4.00. |
| |
| STRAY LEAVES FROM STRANGE LITERATURE. 16mo, $1.50. |
| |
| |
| HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. |
| BOSTON AND NEW YORK. |
+--------------------------------------------------------+
LIFE AND LETTERS OF LAFCADIO HEARN
VOLUME I
[Illustration: Lafcadio Hearn]
THE LIFE AND LETTERS
OF
LAFCADIO HEARN
BY
ELIZABETH BISLAND
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I
[Illustration: The Riverside Press]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
COPYRIGHT 1906 BY ELIZABETH BISLAND WETMORE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published December 1906_
PREFACE
In the course of the preparation of these volumes there was gradually
accumulated so great a number of the letters written by Lafcadio Hearn
during twenty-five years of his life, and these letters proved of so
interesting a nature, that eventually the plan of the whole work was
altered. The original intention was that they should serve only to
illuminate the general text of the biography, but as their number and
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Produced by David Clarke, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This
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by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries.)
_THE BRASS BOTTLE_
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
Cloth 2s. 6d.; paper covers, 1s. 6d. each.
PLAYS BY ARTHUR PINERO
GILBERT MURRAY
W. E. HENLEY & R. L. STEVENSON
GERHART HAUPTMANN
EDMUND ROSTAND
HENRIK IBSEN
C. HADDON CHAMBERS
ROBERT MARSHALL
HERMAN HEIJERMANS
FRANZ ADAM BEYERLEIN
_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
21 Bedford Street, W.C._
_THE BRASS BOTTLE_
_A FARCICAL FANTASTIC PLAY_
_In Four Acts_
_BY F. ANSTEY_
_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_
_MCMXI_
_Copyright, 1911, London, by William Heinemann_
COPY OF THE "FIRST NIGHT" PROGRAMME AT THE VAUDEVILLE THEATRE, LONDON
THE BRASS BOTTLE A Farcical Play in Four Acts BY F. ANSTEY PERFORMED FOR
THE FIRST TIME ON THURSDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 16, 1909
* * * * *
HORACE VENTIMORE MR. LAURENCE GROSSMITH
PROFESSOR ANTHONY FUTVOYE MR. ALFRED BISHOP
FAKRASH-EL-AAMASH MR. E. HOLMAN CLARK
SPENCER PRINGLE MR. RUDGE HARDING
SAMUEL WACKERBATH MR. LUIGI LABLACHE
RAPKIN MR. J. H. BREWER
CHIEF OF CARAVAN MR. A. SPENCER
HEAD EFREET MR. JOHN CAREY
A WAITER MR. WALTER RINGHAM
MRS. FUTVOYE MISS LENA HALLIDAY
SYLVIA FUTVOYE MISS VIVA BIRKETT
MRS. RAPKIN MISS MARY BROUGH
MRS. WACKERBATH MISS ARMINE GRACE
JESSIE MISS GLADYS STOREY
ZOBEIDA (Principal Dancing Girl)
MISS MABEL DUNCAN
DANCERS. Misses Phyllis Birkett, Florence A. Pigott, Susie Nainby,
Dorothy Beaufey, Nina De Leon, Cynthia Farnham
_SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY_
ACTS I AND II
HORACE VENTIMORE'S ROOMS
_There will be an Interval of Two Minutes after Act I, and Eight Minutes
after Act II_
ACT III
SCENE I. VENTIMORE'S OFFICE
SCENE II. DRAWING-ROOM AT THE FUTVOYES'
_There will be One Minute Interval between Scenes I and II, during which
the Audience are requested to keep their seats. After Act III, Eight
Minutes._
ACT IV
SCENE I. VENTIMORE'S ROOMS
SCENE II. "PINAFORE" ROOM, SAVOY HOTEL
_There will be an Interval of One Minute between Scenes I and II, during
which the Audience are requested to keep their seats._
The Scenery painted by WALTER HANN AND SON.
The Play has been Produced (for MR. GASTON MAYER) by MR. FREDERICK KERR.
The Amateur fee for each and every
representation of this play is five
guineas, payable in advance to the
Author's Sole Agents, Messrs.
Samuel French, Ltd., 26 Southampton
Street, Strand, London,
W.C.
_THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY_
HORACE VENTIM
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The Project Gutenberg Etext of Sandra Belloni by George Meredith, v1
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***
Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover art]
[Illustration: To the amazement of everybody, he was trying to steal
home.--Page 257.]
[Transcriber's note: the page number in the Frontispiece's caption was
not linked because the caption's text does not appear anywhere in the
book's main text. The Frontispiece may have been re-used from another
book.]
*REX KINGDON
ON STORM ISLAND*
By GORDON BRADDOCK
AUTHOR OF
"Rex Kingdon of Ridgewood High," "Rex Kingdon in the
the North Woods," "Rex Kingdon at Walcott Hall,"
"Rex Kingdon Behind the Bat," etc.
[Illustration: Title page picture]
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Printed in U. S. A.
COPYRIGHT, 1917,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
Printed in U. S. A.
*CONTENTS*
CHAPTER
I. The Menace of the Law
II. In Stolen Plumage
III. The Catboat in the Squall
IV. A Landing in the Dark
V. Behind the Lighted Canvas
VI. Getting Back to the Boat
VII. On the Verge of Something
VIII. A Bargain is Struck
IX. A Challenge
X. Kingdon States a Determination
XI. Enos Quibb Again
XII. An Unexpected Difficulty
XIII. Rex Owns Up
XIV. A Lively Time
XV. What's Sauce for the Goose
XVI. White Wings
XVII. An Off-Shore Blow
XVIII. "The Happy Family"
XIX. More of Mr. Quibb
XX. Kingdon's Surprising Move
XXI. Revenge
XXII. The Boulder on the Hillside
XXIII. A Threatening Sky
XXIV. A Lucky Move
XXV. The Eight-Oared Shell
XXVI. Pence Defends Kirby
XXVII. Visitors
XXVIII. Horace Proves Himself
XXIX. Something in the Offing
XXX. Facing Defeat
XXXI. Horace Shows the Right Spirit
XXXII. In Form at Last
*AUTHOR'S FOREWORD.*
How would you like to spend a summer vacation on an uninhabited island
off the Maine coast,--not alone, of course, but in company with a few
chosen chums, all good fellows in their way and all of them ready for
any sort of sport or adventure that might be found or borrowed? Surely,
such a vacation would provide plenty of good fun, as well as some
troubles and annoyances; but no vigorous, high-spirited American boy
would mind a certain amount of inconveniences when he sets out to have a
good time on a camping trip. In fact, he looks for some unpleasant
things to happen, and he has a way of going right ahead and making the
best of everything, so that many a time a source of irritation is turned
into a spring of enjoyment and delight.
It was so with Rex Kingdon and his friends of the present story. When
they arrived at Storm Island and found another party of campers located
there, they at first were annoyed. They had understood that no one else
would be given a permit to camp on that island. Imagine their
astonishment when they discovered that the other party had deceived a
local officer into letting them remain on the island by representing
themselves to be "Rex Kingdon and friends," rightful holders of the
camping permit. Trouble? Could anything spell trouble more plainly?
But, after all, they managed to get more real fun out of it than they
could have had if they had been the only campers on Storm Island. And,
in the end, Rex wins a new recruit for Walcott Hall--and the prep.
school baseball team.
This is the fifth story of The Rex Kingdon Series. It will be followed
by the sixth and final volume of the series, which will bear the title,
"Rex Kingdon and His Chums." In that forthcoming story Rex will finish
his course at the Hall. As he regretfully bids good-by to the old
school, the reader who has faithfully followed his career since he made
his first bow in "Rex Kingdon of Ridgewood High" will have to bid
good-by to him--as regretfully, I hope.
GORDON BRADDOCK.
New York, February 14, 1917.
*Rex Kingdon on Storm Island.*
*CHAPTER I.*
*THE MENACE OF THE LAW.*
"What's that noise? Say, Pudge, wake up and take a look."
"Hey? What noise?" stammered Pudge MacComber, startled out of serene
slumber.
"Hear it?
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E-text prepared by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Villanova University Digital Library
(https://digital.library.villanova.edu)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Villanova University Digital Library. See
https://digital.library.villanova.edu/Item/vudl:440123#
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
No. 20 =10 Cents=
THE SENATOR'S BRIDE
[Illustration]
MRS. ALEX
McVEIGH MILLER
All Stories Copyrighted
Cannot be had in any
other edition
EAGLE LIBRARY
STREET
& SMITH
Publishers, New York
EAGLE LIBRARY NO. 20
A weekly publication devoted to good literature.
By subscription. $5 per year. July 12, 1897
Entered as second-class matter at N. Y. post-office.
_An Explosion in Prices!_
_The Sensation of the Year!_
STREET & SMITH'S
EAGLE LIBRARY
OF
12mo. Copyrighted Books.
RETAIL PRICE, 10 CENTS.
[Illustration]
No. 1 of this series contains 256 pages full size, 12mo. Succeeding
issues are of similar bulk. Paper and printing equal to any 25 cent
book on the market. Handsome and Attractive Cover of different design
for each issue.
[Illustration]
CATALOGUE.
=16--The Fatal Card. By Haddon Chambers and B. C. Stephenson.=
=15--Doctor Jack. By St. George Rathborne.=
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[Illustration:
CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL
OF
POPULAR
LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.
Fourth Series
CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.
NO. 717. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1877. PRICE 1½_d._]
BURIAL ECCENTRICITIES.
In all times and countries there have been queer notions about
burial. We here offer to our readers a few instances of this kind of
eccentricity.
Mr Wilkinson, one of the founders of the iron manufacture in Great
Britain, loved iron so well that he resolved to carry it to the grave
with him. He had himself buried in his garden in an iron coffin, over
which was an iron tomb of twenty tons' weight. In order to make all
right and secure, he caused the coffin and tomb to be constructed
while he was yet alive; he delighted to shew them to his friends and
visitors--possibly more to his pleasure than theirs. But there were
sundry little tribulations to encounter. When he died, it was found
that the coffin was too small; he was temporarily laid in the ground
while a new one was made; when buried, it was decided that the coffin
was too near the surface, and it was therefore transferred to a cavity
dug in a rock; lastly, when the estate was sold many years afterwards,
the family directed the coffin to be transferred to the churchyard.
Thus Mr Wilkinson had the exceptional honour of being buried three or
four times over. Mr Smiles tells us that, in 1862, a man was living who
had assisted at all these interments. Mr Wilkinson was quite pleased
to make presents of iron coffins to any friends who wished to possess
such mementos of death and iron. In a granite county such as Cornwall,
it is not surprising to read that the Rev. John Pomeroy, of St Kew, was
buried in a granite coffin which he had caused to be made.
Some persons have had a singular taste for providing their coffins
long beforehand, and keeping them as objects pleasant to look at, or
morally profitable as reminders of the fate of all, or useful for
everyday purposes until the last and solemn use supervenes. A slater
in Fifeshire, about forty years ago, made his own coffin, decorated it
with shells, and displayed it among other fancy shell-work in a room
he called his grotto. Another North Briton, a cartwright, made his own
coffin, and used it for a long time to hold his working tools; it
was filled with sliding shelves, and the lid turned upon hinges. It
is said that many instances are met with in Scotland of working men
constructing their own coffins 'in leisure hours.' Alderman Jones of
Gloucester, about the close of the seventeenth century, had his coffin
and his monument constructed beforehand; not liking the shape of the
nose carved on his effigy on the latter, he had a new one cut--just in
time, for he died immediately after it was finished. One John Wheatley
of Nottingham bought a coffin, and filled it with clove cordial; but he
brought himself into bad repute by getting drunk too frequently, for
his coffin became to him a sort of dram-shop. A young navy surgeon, who
accompanied the Duke of Clarence (afterwards King William IV.) when he
first went to sea as a royal middy, rose in after-life to an important
position at Portsmouth; he had a favourite boat converted into a
coffin, with the stern-piece fixed at its head, and kept it under his
bed for many years. A married couple in Prussia provided themselves
with coffins beforehand, and kept them in a stable, where they were
utilised as cupboards for the reception of various kinds of food;
but the final appropriation of the coffins was marked by a singular
_contre-temps_. The man died; the widow packed the contents of both
coffins into one; while the body was deposited in the other. By some
mishap, the coffin full of eatables was lowered into the grave. Next
day the widow opening the lid of the (supposed) cupboard, was scared at
finding the dead body of her husband. Of course the interment had to be
done all over again, with an interchange of coffins.
The custom of being buried in an erect position has been frequently
carried out. Ben Jonson was buried upright in Westminster Abbey,
a circumstance which gave occasion for the following lines in the
_Ingoldsby Legends_:
Even rare Ben Jonson, that famous wight,
I am told is interred there bolt upright,
In just such a posture, beneath his bust,
As Tray used to sit in to beg for a crust.
Military heroes have in more cases than one been buried by their men
in upright positions on the battle-field, sometimes lance or spear
in hand. One such was found at the Curragh of Kildare; on opening
an earthen tumulus, the skeleton of an old Irish chieftain was seen
upright, with a barbed spear in or near one hand.
It is of course quite easy to bury in an upright posture, by setting up
the coffin on end; but where, as in many recorded instances, the body
is placed in sitting posture, coffins were of necessity inadmissible.
When the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa opened the tomb of Charlemagne at
Aix-la-Chapelle, he found the body of the great man seated on a kind of
throne, as if alive, clad in imperial robes, bearing his sceptre in one
hand and a copy of the Bible on his knees. At Shoreditch churchyard,
some years ago, a tomb could be seen from the high-road, placed there
by a quack doctor named Dr John Gardiner. Or rather it was a high
head-stone, with an inscription denoting that the inclosed spot was his
'last and best bedroom;' he had the tomb and the inscription prepared
some years before his death, and was (so rumour stated) buried in a
sitting posture; but on this last point the evidence is not clear.
Some folks have been buried with a mere apology for a coffin. Such was
the fate of Mrs Fisher Dilke, during the time of the Commonwealth. Her
husband, Mr Dilke, did not seem to regard her remains as deserving of
a very high expenditure. He caused a coffin to be made from boards
which lined his barn. He bargained with a sexton to make a grave in the
churchyard for one groat; two groats cheaper than if it had been in
the church. He invited eight neighbours to act as bearers, for whom he
provided three twopenny cakes and a bottle of claret. He read a
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LOVE SONNETS OF AN
OFFICE BOY
[Illustration]
Love Sonnets of an
Office Boy
By
Samuel Ellsworth Kiser
Illustrated by
John T. McCutcheon
Forbes & Company
Boston and Chicago
1902
_Copyright, 1902_
BY SAMUEL ELLSWORTH KISER
Published by arrangement with
THE CHICAGO RECORD-HERALD
Colonial Press: Electrotyped and Printed
by C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U.S.A.
LOVE SONNETS OF AN
OFFICE BOY
I.
Oh, if you only knowed how much I like
To stand here, when the "old man" ain't around,
And watch your soft, white fingers while you pound
Away at them there keys! Each time you strike
It almost seems to me as though you'd found
Some way, while writin' letters, how to play
Sweet music on that thing, because the sound
Is something I could listen to all day.
You're twenty-five or six and I'm fourteen,
And you don't hardly ever notice me--
But when you do, you call me Willie! Gee,
I wisht I'd bundles of the old long green
And could be twenty-eight or nine or so,
And something happened to your other beau.
II.
I heard the old man scoldin' yesterday
Because your spellin'
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THE SUNSHADE
THE GLOVE--THE MUFF
THE SUNSHADE
THE GLOVE--THE MUFF
BY
OCTAVE UZANNE
/ILLUSTRATED BY PAUL AVRIL/
LONDON
J. C. NIMMO AND BAIN
14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1883
PREFACE
After /the brilliant success which attended, in the spring of last
year, our volume on/ The Fan--/a success which was the result, as
I cannot conceal from myself, much more of the original conception
and decorative execution of that work of luxe than of its literary
interest--I have determined to close this series of/ Woman's
Ornaments /by a last little work on the protective adornments of
that delicate being, as graceful as she is gracious/: The Sunshade,
the Glove, the Muff. /This collection, therefore, of feminine toys
will be limited to two volumes, a collection which at first sight
appeared to us so complex and heavy that a dozen volumes at least
would have been required to contain its principal elements. This,
doubtless, on the one hand, would have tried our own constancy, and
on the other, would have failed in fixing more surely the inconstancy
of our female readers. The spirit has its freaks of independence, and
the unforeseen of life ought to be carefully economised. Moreover,
to tell the whole truth, the decorative elegance of a book like
the present hides very often beneath its prints the torture of an
intellectual thumbscrew. The unhappy author is obliged to confine his
exuberant ideas in a sort of strait-jacket in order to slip them more
easily through the varied combinations of pictorial design, which
here rules, an inexorable Mentor, over the text./
/In a work printed in this manner, just as in a theatre, the/ mise
en scène /is often detrimental to the piece; the one murders the
other--it cannot be otherwise--the public applauds, but the writer
who has the worship of his art sorrowfully resigns himself, and
inwardly protests against the condescension of which he has had
experience/.
/Two volumes, then, under a form which thus imprisons the strolling,
sauntering, inventive, and paradoxical spirit, will be sufficient for
my lady readers. Very soon we shall meet again in books with vaster
horizons, and "ceilings not so low," to employ an expression which
well describes the moral imprisonment in which I am enveloped by the
graces and exquisite talent of my collaborateur, Paul Avril/.
/Let it be understood, then, that I have no personal literary
pretensions in this work. As the sage Montaigne says in his/ Essays,
"/I have here but collected a heap of foreign flowers, and brought of
my own only the string which binds them together./"
/OCTAVE UZANNE./
THE SUNSHADE
/THE PARASOL ---- THE UMBRELLA/
The author of a /Dictionary of Inventions/, after having proved the
use of the Parasol in France about 1680, openly gives up any attempt
to determine its precise original conception, which indeed seems to
be completely concealed in the night of time.
It would evidently be childish to attempt to assign a date to the
invention of Parasols; it would be better to go back to Genesis at
once. A biblical expression, /the shelter which defends from the
sun/, would almost suffice to demonstrate the Oriental origin of
the Parasol, if it did not appear everywhere in the most remote
antiquity--as well in the Nineveh sculptures, discovered and
described by M. Layard; as on the bas-reliefs of the palaces or
frescoes of the tombs of Thebes and Memphis.
In China they used the Parasol more than two thousand years before
Christ. There is mention of it in the /Thong-sou-wen/, under the
denomination of /San-Kaï/, in the time of the first dynasties, and a
Chinese legend attributes the invention of it to the wife of Lou-pan,
a celebrated carpenter of antiquity. "Sir," said this incomparable
spouse to her husband, "you make with extreme cleverness houses for
men, but it is impossible to make them move, whilst the object which
I am framing for their private use can be carried to any distance,
beyond even a thousand leagues."
And Lou-pan, stupefied by his wife's genius, then saw the unfolding
of the first Parasol.
Interesting as these legends may be, handed down by tradition to the
peoples of the East, they have no more historical credit than our
delicate fables of mythology: they preserve in themselves less of
the poetic quintessence, and above all seem less connected with that
mysterious charm with which Greek paganism drowned that charming
Olympus wherefrom the very origins of art appear to descend.
Let the three Graces be represented burned by Apollo, tired of
flying through the shadows, where Fauns and Ægipans lie in ambush,
or let these three fair ones be painted in despair at the fiery
sensation of sunburning which brands their epidermis; let them invoke
Venus, and let the Loves appear immediately, bearers of unknown
instruments, busily occupied in working the little hidden springs,
ingeniously showing their different uses and salutary effects; let
a poet--a Voltaire, a Dorat, a Meunier de Querlon, or an Imbert
of the time--be kind enough to forge some rhymes of gold on this
fable; let him, in fine, inspired by these goddesses, compose an
incontestable master-piece, and behold /the Origin of the Sunshade/!
graven in pretty legendary letters on the temple of Memory, not to be
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PERKINS OF PORTLAND
PERKINS THE GREAT
By Ellis Parker Butler
BOSTON HERBERT B. TURNER & CO. 1906
I. MR. PERKINS OF PORTLAND
THERE was very little about Perkins that was not peculiar. To mention
his peculiarities would be a long task; he was peculiar from the ground
up. His shoes had rubber soles, his hat had peculiar mansard ventilators
on each side, his garments were vile as to fit, and altogether he had
the appearance of being a composite picture.
We first met in the Golden Hotel office in Cleveland, Ohio. I was
reading a late copy of a morning paper and smoking a very fairish sort
of cigar, when a hand was laid on my arm. I turned and saw in the chair
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[Transcriber’s Note:
This text includes characters that require UTF-8 (Unicode) file
encoding:
œ (oe ligature)
διορθῶσαι or ϹΥΝΑΓΩΓ (Greek)
שָׁלוֹם (Hebrew)
If any of these characters do not display properly--in particular,
if the diacritic does not appear directly above the letter--or if
marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, make sure your text
reader’s “character set” or “file encoding” is set to Unicode
(UTF-8). You may also need to change the default font.
Additional notes are at the end of the book.]
THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.
THE
CATACOMBS OF ROME,
AND
Their Testimony Relative to Primitive Christianity.
BY THE REV.
W. H. WITHROW, M.A.
_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS._
London:
HODDER AND STOUGHTON,
27, PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCLXXXVIII.
Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Ld. Printers, London and Aylesbury.
PREFACE. 5
The present work, it is hoped, will supply a want long felt in the
literature of the Catacombs. That literature, it is true, is very
voluminous; but it is for the most part locked up in rare and costly
folios in foreign
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CORNELL STUDIES IN PHILOSOPHY
No. 11
JOHN DEWEY'S LOGICAL THEORY
BY
DELTON THOMAS HOWARD, A.M.
FORMERLY FELLOW IN THE SAGE SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY
A THESIS
PRESENTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF
CORNELL UNIVERSITY IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE
REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
NEW YORK
LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.
1919
PRESS OF
THE NEW ERA PRINTING COMPANY
LANCASTER, PA.
PREFACE
It seems unnecessary to offer an apology for an historical treatment of
Professor Dewey's logical theories, since functionalism glories in the
genetic method. To be sure, certain more extreme radicals are opposed to
a genetic interpretation of the history of human thought, but this is
inconsistent. At any rate, the historical method employed in the
following study may escape censure by reason of its simple character,
for it is little more than a critical review of Professor Dewey's
writings in their historical order, with no discussion of influences and
connections, and with little insistence upon rigid lines of development.
It is proposed to "follow the lead of the subject-matter" as far as
possible; to discover what topics interested Professor Dewey, how he
dealt with them, and what conclusions he arrived at. This plan has an
especial advantage when applied to a body of doctrine which, like
Professor Dewey's, does not possess a systematic form of its own, since
it avoids the distortion which a more rigid method would be apt to
produce.
It has not been possible, within the limits of the present study, to
take note of all of Professor Dewey's writings, and no reference has
been made to some which are of undoubted interest and importance. Among
these may be mentioned especially his books and papers on educational
topics and a number of his ethical writings. Attention has been devoted
almost exclusively to those writings which have some important bearing
upon his logical theory. The division into chapters is partly arbitrary,
although the periods indicated are quite clearly marked by the different
directions which Professor Dewey's interests took from time to time. It
will be seen that there is considerable chance for error in
distinguishing between the important and the unimportant, and in
selecting the essays which lie in the natural line of the author's
development. But, _valeat quantum_, as William James would say.
The criticisms and comments which have been made from time to time, as
seemed appropriate, may be considered pertinent or irrelevant according
to the views of the reader. It is hoped that they are not entirely
aside from the mark, and that they do not interfere with a fair
presentation of the author's views. The last chapter is devoted to a
direct criticism of Professor Dewey's functionalism, with some comments
on the general nature of philosophical method.
Since this thesis was written, Professor Dewey has published two or
three books and numerous articles, which are perhaps more important than
any of his previous writings. The volume of _Essays in Experimental
Logic_ (1916) is a distinct advance upon _The Influence of Darwin on
Philosophy and Other Essays_, published six years earlier. Most of these
essays, however, are considered here in their original form, and the new
material, while interesting, presents no vital change of standpoint. It
might be well to call attention to the excellent introductory essay
which Professor Dewey has provided for this new volume. Some mention
might also be made of the volume of essays by eight representative
pragmatists, which appeared last year (1917) under the title, _Creative
Intelligence_. My comments on Professor Dewey's contribution to the
volume have been printed elsewhere.[1] It has not seemed necessary, in
the absence of significant developments, to extend the thesis beyond its
original limits, and it goes to press, therefore, substantially as
written two years ago.
I wish to express my gratitude to the members of the faculty of the Sage
School of Philosophy for many valuable suggestions and kindly
encouragement in the course of my work. I am most deeply indebted to
Professor Ernest Albee for his patient guidance and helpful criticism.
Many of his suggestions, both as to plan and detail, have been adopted
and embodied in the thesis, and these have contributed materially to
such logical coherence and technical accuracy as it may possess. The
particular views expressed are, of course, my own. I wish also to thank
Professor J. E. Creighton especially for his friendly interest and for
many suggestions which assisted the progress of my work, as well as for
his kindness in looking over the proofs.
D. T. HOWARD.
EVANSTON, ILLINOIS,
June, 1918.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] "The Pragmatic Method," _Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and
Scientific Methods_, 1918, Vol. XV, pp. 149-156.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I
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Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
http://www.archive.org/details/elsieatviamede00finl
ELSIE AT VIAMEDE
* * * * *
A LIST OF THE ELSIE BOOKS AND OTHER POPULAR BOOKS
BY MARTHA FINLEY
_ELSIE DINSMORE._
_ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS._
_ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD._
_ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD._
_ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD._
_ELSIE'S CHILDREN._
_ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD._
_GRANDMOTHER ELSIE._
_ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS._
_ELSIE AT NANTUCKET._
_THE TWO ELSIES._
_ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN._
_ELSIE'S FRIENDS AT WOODBURN._
_CHRISTMAS WITH GRANDMA ELSIE._
_ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS._
_ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS._
_ELSIE'S VACATION._
_ELSIE AT VIAMEDE._
_ELSIE AT ION._
_ELSIE AT THE WORLD'S FAIR._
_ELSIE'S JOURNEY ON INLAND WATERS._
_ELSIE AT HOME._
_ELSIE ON THE HUDSON._
_ELSIE IN THE SOUTH._
_ELSIE'S YOUNG FOLKS._
_ELSIE'S WINTER TRIP._
_ELSIE AND HER LOVED ONES._
* * * * *
_MILDRED KEITH._
_MILDRED AT ROSELANDS._
_MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE._
_MILDRED AND ELSIE._
_MILDRED AT HOME._
_MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS._
_MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER._
* * * * *
_CASELLA._
_SIGNING THE CONTRACT AND WHAT IT COST._
_THE TRAGEDY OF WILD RIVER VALLEY._
_OUR FRED._
_AN OLD-FASHIONED BOY._
_WANTED, A PEDIGREE._
_THE THORN IN THE NEST._
* * * * *
ELSIE AT VIAMEDE
by
MARTHA FINLEY
Author of "Elsie Dinsmore," "The Mildred Books,"
"Thorn in the Nest," Etc., Etc., Etc.
New York
Dodd, Mead & Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1892
by Dodd, Mead & Company.
All rights reserved.
ELSIE AT VIAMEDE.
CHAPTER I.
IT was a beautiful evening at Viamede: the sun nearing its setting,
shadows sleeping here and there upon the velvety flower-bespangled lawn,
and filling the air with their delicious perfume, the waters of the
bayou beyond reflecting the roseate hues of the sunset clouds, and the
song of some <DW64> oarsmen, in a passing boat, coming to the ear in
pleasantly mellowed tones. Tea was over, and the family had all gathered
upon the veranda overlooking the bayou. A momentary silence was broken
by Rosie's pleasant voice:
"Mamma, I wish you or grandpa, or the captain, would tell the story of
Jackson's defence of New Orleans. Now while we are in the neighborhood
we would all, I feel sure, find it very interesting. I think you have
been going over Lossing's account of it, mamma," she added laughingly,
"for I found his 'Pictorial History of the War of 1812' lying on the
table in your room, with a mark in at that part."
"Yes, I had been refreshing my memory in that way," returned her mother,
smiling pleasantly into the dark eyes gazing so fondly and entreatingly
into hers. "And," she added, "I have no objection to granting your
request, except that I do not doubt that either your grandfather or the
captain could do greater justice to the subject than I," glancing
inquiringly from one to the other.
"Captain, I move that you undertake the task," said Mr. Dinsmore. "You
are, no doubt, better prepared to do it justice than I, and I would not
have my daughter fatigued with the telling of so long a story."
"Always so kindly careful of me, my dear father," remarked Mrs. Travilla
in a softly spoken aside.
"I am doubtful of my better preparation for the telling of the story,
sir," returned the captain in his pleasant tones, "but if both you and
mother are disinclined for the exertion I am willing to undertake the
task."
"Yes, do, captain; do, papa," came in eager tones from several young
voices, and lifting baby Ned to one knee, Elsie to the other, while
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The Journal of the
Debates in the Convention
Which Framed
The Constitution of the
United States
May-September, 1787
As Recorded by
James Madison
Edited by
Gaillard Hunt
In Two Volumes
Volume I.
G. P. Putnam's Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1908
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
[Illustration]
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
PAGE
The Records of the Constitutional Convention (Introduction
by the Editor) vii
Chronology xix
Journal of the Constitutional Convention of 1787 1
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
LIST OF FAC-SIMILES.
FACING
PAGE
First Page of Madison's Journal, actual size 2
Charles Pinckney's Letter 20
The Pinckney Draft 22
Hamilton's Principal Speech 154
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE RECORDS OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL
CONVENTION.
James Madison's contemporaries generally conceded that he was the
leading statesman in the convention which framed the Constitution of
the United States; but in addition to this he kept a record of the
proceedings of the convention which outranks in importance all the
other writings of the founders of the
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[Illustration: THE CORRIDORS OF THE COURTS]
A PHILADELPHIA LAWYER
IN THE LONDON COURTS
BY
THOMAS LEAMING
_Illustrated by the Author_
SECOND EDITION, REVISED
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1912
COPYRIGHT, 1911,
BY
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
Published May, 1911
PREFACE
The nucleus of this volume was an address delivered before the
Pennsylvania State Bar Association which, finding its way into
various newspapers in the United States and England, received a
degree of favorable notice that seemed to warrant further pursuit of
a subject heretofore apparently overlooked. Successive holiday
visits to England were utilized for this purpose.
As our institutions are largely derived from England, it is natural
that the discussion of public questions and the glimpses of
important trials afforded by the daily papers--usually murder trials
or divorce cases--should more or less familiarize Americans with the
English point of view in legal matters. American lawyers, indeed,
must keep themselves in close touch with the actual decisions which
are collected in the reports to be found in every library and which
are frequently cited in our courts.
Nothing in print is available, however, from which much can be
learned concerning the barristers, the judges, or the solicitors,
themselves, whose labors establish these precedents. They seem to
have escaped the anthropologist, so curious about most vertebrates,
and they must be studied in their habitat--the Inns of Court, the
musty chambers and the courts themselves.
The more these almost unknown creatures are investigated, the more
will the pioneer appreciate the difficulty of penetrating the highly
specialized professional life of England, of mastering the many
peculiar customs and the elaborate etiquette by which it is governed
and of reproducing the atmosphere of it all. He will find that he
can do little but record his observations.
It was not unknown to him that some lawyers in England are called
barristers, some solicitors, and he had a vague impression that the
former, only, are advocates, whose functions and activities differ
from those of the solicitor; but he was hardly conscious that the
two callings are as unlike as those of a physician and an
apothecary. It requires personal observation to see that the
barristers, belonging to a limited and somewhat aristocratic corps,
less than 800 of whom monopolize the litigation of the entire
Kingdom, have little in common with the solicitors, scattered all
over England. The former are grouped together in their chambers in
the Inns, their clients are solicitors only, they have no contact,
perhaps not even an acquaintance, with the actual litigants and a
cause to them is like an abstract proposition to be scientifically
presented. The solicitors, on the other hand, constitute the men of
law-business, whose clients are the public, but who can not
themselves appear as advocates and must retain the barristers for
that purpose.
Again, it is difficult to grasp fully the influence exercised
through life by the barrister's Inn--that curious institution, with
its five hundred years of tradition--voluntarily joined by him when
a youth; where he has received his training; by which he has been
called to the Bar and may be disbarred for cause, and upon the
Benchers of which Inn he must naturally look as his exemplars,
although the Lord Chancellor may be the nominal creator of King's
Counsel and the donor of judge-ships. The impulse of these Inns is
still felt at the American Bar, despite more than a century's
separation, for, about the time of the Revolution, over a hundred
American law students were in attendance, not only acquiring, for
use in the new country, a sound legal training, but absorbing the
spirit of the profession which has been transmitted to posterity,
although its source may be forgotten.
Nor will anything he has read prepare the American for the abyss
which separates the common law barrister, who spends his days in
jury trials, from the chancery man, who knows nothing but equity
courts; nor for the complete ignorance
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(www.canadiana.org))
Transcriber's Note.
A list of the changes made can be found at the end of the book.
Formatting and special characters are indicated as follows:
_italic_
=bold=
THE JESUIT RELATIONS AND ALLIED DOCUMENTS
VOL. V
[Illustration: PAUL LE JEUNE, S.J.]
The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents
TRAVELS AND EXPLORATIONS OF THE JESUIT MISSIONARIES IN NEW FRANCE
1610-1791
THE ORIGINAL FRENCH, LATIN, AND ITALIAN TEXTS, WITH ENGLISH
TRANSLATIONS AND NOTES; ILLUSTRATED BY PORTRAITS, MAPS, AND
FACSIMILES
EDITED BY
REUBEN GOLD THWAITES
Secretary of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin
Vol. V
QUEBEC: 1632-1633
CLEVELAND: =The Burrows Brothers Company=, PUBLISHERS, MDCCCXCVII
COPYRIGHT, 1897
BY
THE BURROWS BROTHERS CO
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_The Imperial Press, Cleveland_
EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor REUBEN GOLD THWAITES
Translator from the French JOHN CUTLER COVERT
Assistant Translator from the French MARY SIFTON PEPPER
Translator from the Latin WILLIAM FREDERIC GIESE
Translator from the Italian MARY SIFTON PEPPER
Assistant Editor EMMA HELEN BLAIR
CONTENTS OF VOL. V
PREFACE TO VOLUME V 1
DOCUMENTS:--
XX. Brieve Relation dv voyage de la Novvelle France, fait au mois
d'Auril dernier. _Paul le Ieune_; Kebec, August 28, 1632 5
XXI. Relation de ce qui s'est passé en La Novvelle France, en l'année
1633. _Paul le Ieune_ (first installment) 77
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL DATA: VOLUME V 269
NOTES 275
[Decoration]
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. V
I. Portrait of Paul le Jeune, S.J. Photo-engraving from oil painting by
Donald Guthrie McNab _Frontispiece_
II. Photographic facsimile of title-page, Le Jeune's _Relation_ of 1632
8
III. Photographic facsimile of title-page, Le Jeune's _Relation_ of
1633 80
IV. R. C. Church at Penetanguishene, Ont., built in memory of the
Jesuit Martyrs in the Huron country; now in course of construction.
(From a recent photograph.) 295
PREFACE TO VOL. V
Following is a synopsis of the documents contained in the present
volume:
XX. This document (dated Quebec, August 28, 1632) is Le Jeune's famous
_Relation_ of 1632, the first of the Cramoisy series, which were
thereafter annually issued until 1672. In this document, Le Jeune, the
new superior of the Canada mission, relates to the French provincial
of his order, in Paris, the particulars of the stormy passage recently
made by the two missionaries to the New World, in De Caen's ship.
Le Jeune gives his impressions of the country, and of the natives.
He describes the tortures inflicted by some of them, upon three
Iroquois captives. Schools should be established for the youth, if
the adults are to be properly influenced. Mosquitoes greatly torment
the missionaries. The circumstances are related of the landing of De
Caen's party at Quebec, which is found in ruins; mass is celebrated in
the house of Mme. Hébert, and the condition of that pioneer family is
described. Quebec being surrendered to De Caen by the English garrison,
the Jesuits return to their old habitation on the St. Charles, only
the walls of which have withstood the shock of war. Le Jeune then
reverts, in his story, to the condition of the savages, telling of
their simplicity and their entire confidence in the missionaries. The
Jesuits baptize an Iroquois lad, and a native child has been left in
their charge. The successful garden of the mission is described, and
the relator tells how he almost lost his life by drowning.
XXI. Le Jeune's _Relation_ for 1633 is addressed from Quebec to the
French provincial of the order, Barthelemy Jacquinot, in Paris. In
the first installment of the document,
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EUROPA'S
FAIRY TALES
"_Do tell us a fairy tale, ganpa._"
"_Well, will you be good and quiet if I do?_"
"_Of course we will; we are always good when you are telling
us fairy tales._"
"_Well, here goes.--Once upon a time, though it wasn't in my
time, and it wasn't in your time, and it wasn't in anybody
else's time, there was a----_"
"_But that would be no time at all._"
"_That's fairy tale time._"
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Marshal tells how he killed the Dragon_]
EUROPA'S
FAIRY BOOK
RESTORED AND RETOLD BY
JOSEPH JACOBS
DONE INTO PICTURES BY
JOHN D. BATTEN
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
COPYRIGHT, 1916
BY
JOSEPH JACOBS
* * * * *
To
PEGGY, AND MADGE, AND PEARL, AND MAGGIE,
AND MARGUERITE, AND PEGGOTTY, AND MEG,
AND MARJORY, AND DAISY, AND PEGG, AND
MARGARET HAYS
(How many granddaughters does that make?)
MY DEAR LITTLE PEGGY:--
Many, many, many years ago I wrote a book for your Mummey--when
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Canoe and Camp Cookery:
A PRACTICAL COOK BOOK
FOR
CANOEISTS, CORINTHIAN SAILORS AND OUTERS.
By "SENECA."
NEW YORK:
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.,
1885.
Copyright,
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO.
1885.
CONTENTS.
PART I.--CANOE COOKERY.
CHAPTER I.
Page.
Outfit for Cooking on a Cruise.--Value of a Single Receptacle for
Everything Necessary to Prepare a Meal.--The Canoeist's "Grub
Box."--The Same as a Seat.--Water-tight Tins.--Necessary Provisions
and Utensils.--Waterproof Bags for Surplus Provisions.--Portable
Oven.--Canoe Stoves.--Folding Stoves a Nuisance.--Hints for
Provisioning for a Cruise. 9
CHAPTER II.
Soups.--Canned Soups.--The Brunswick Goods Cheap, Wholesome and
Convenient.--Huckins' Soups.--Oyster, Clam, Onion and Tomato
Soups. 17
CHAPTER III.
Fish.--Fish Caught in Muddy Streams.--Kill your Fish as soon as
Caught.--Fish Grubs.--Fish Fried, Planked, Skewered and
Boiled.--Fish Sauce, Fish Roe, Shell Fish. 20
CHAPTER IV.
Meats and Game.--Salt Pork.--Ham and Eggs.--Broiling and Boiling
Meats.--Pigeons, Squirrels, Ducks, Grouse, Woodcock, Rabbits,
Frogs, etc. 25
CHAPTER V.
Vegetables.--Potatoes and Green Corn, Boiled, Fried, Roasted and
Stewed. 30
CHAPTER VI.
Coffee and Tea.--Mush, Johnnycake and Hoe Cake.--Slapjacks,
Corn Dodgers, Ash Cakes, Biscuits, Camp Bread.--Eggs. 34
PART II.--CAMP COOKERY.
CHAPTER I.
Outfit.--Go Light as Possible.--Carriage of Provisions and
Utensils.--Camp Stoves, Ice-Boxes and Hair Mattresses.--The Bed
of "Browse."--How to Make a Cooking Range Out-of-doors.--Building
the Fire.--A Useful Tool.--Construction of Coffee Pot and Frying
Pan.--Baking in Camp.--Fuel for Camp-fire.--Kerosene and Alcohol
Stoves.--Camp Table.--Washing Dishes, etc. 42
CHAPTER II.
Soups.--General Remarks on Cooking Soups.--Soups Made of Meat,
Vegetables, Deer's Heads, Small Game, Rice, Fish, and Turtle. 50
CHAPTER III.
Fish.--Fish Baked, Plain and Stuffed.--Fish Gravy.--Fish
Chowder.--Clam Chowder.--Orthodox Clam Chowder. 55
CHAPTER IV.
Meats and Game.--Hash.--Pork and Beans.--Game Stew.--Brunswick
Stew.--Roast Venison.--Baked Deer's Head.--Venison Sausages.--Stuffed
Roasts of Game.--Woodchucks, Porcupines, 'Possums and Pigs. 59
CHAPTER V.
Preparation of Vegetables for Cooking.--Time Table for Cooking
Vegetables.--Cabbage, Beets, Greens, Tomatoes, Turnips, Mushrooms,
Succotash, etc. 67
CHAPTER VI.
Boiled Rice.--Cracked Wheat.--Hominy Grits.--Batter Cakes.--Rice
Cakes.--Puddings.--Welsh Rarebit.--Fried Bread for Soups.--Stewed
Cranberries. 74
CHAPTER VII.
Dishes for Yachtsmen.--Macaroni, Boiled and Baked.--Baked
Turkey.--Pie Crust.--Brown Betty.--Apple Pudding.--Apple Dumplings. 80
HINTS. 88
PREFACE.
A BOOK in the writer's possession, entitled "Camp Cookery," contains
the following recipe:
"BOILED GREEN CORN.--Boil twenty-five minutes, if very young and
tender. As it grows older it requires a longer time. Send to the table
in a napkin."
The writer of the above is a good housewife. She cannot conceive
that anybody will attempt to boil green corn who does not know such
rudiments of the culinary art as the proper quantity of water to put
into the pot and the necessity of its being slightly salted and at a
boil when the corn is put in, instead of fresh and cold; and, like the
careful cook that she is, she tells the camper to send the ears to the
camp "table" in a "napkin."
The faults of the above recipe are the faults of all recipes furnished
by the majority of books on out-door life. They do not
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Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "I'm comin' home from a feeneral," Honeybird called out
cheerfully.]
THE WEANS AT ROWALLAN
BY
KATHLEEN FITZPATRICK
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. GUY SMITH
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
_First Published in 1905_
_Second Edition 1905_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. WHY MRS M'REA RETURNED TO THE FAITH OF HER FATHERS
II. UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE MOUNTAINS
III. JANE'S CONVERSION
IV. A DAY OF GROWTH
V. THE CHILD SAMUEL
VI. THE BEST FINDER
VII. A STOCKING FULL OF GOLD
VIII. THE BANTAM HEN
IX. THE DORCAS SOCIETY
X. THE CRUEL HARM
XI. A CHIEF MOURNER
XII. A SAFEGUARD FOR HAPPINESS
XIII. JIMMIE BURKE'S WEDDING
XIV. JANE AT MISS COURTNEY'S SCHOOL
XV. AN ENGLISH AUNT
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"I'M COMIN' HOME FROM A FEENERAL," HONEYBIRD CALLED OUT
CHEERFULLY............ _Frontispiece_
WHEN FLY LOOKED IN UNDER THE WHIN THERE WAS HONEYBIRD FAST ASLEEP
"MICHAEL DARRAGH! IS THAT WHO YE ARE? MOTHER A' GOD! AN' YER
FATHER'S GUN IN HIS HAN'"
"WHIST, SAMMY; BE QUIET, MAN, TILL SHE COMES," SAID MICK
THE WEANS AT ROWALLAN
CHAPTER I
WHY MRS M'REA RETURNED TO THE FAITH OF HER FATHERS
One soaking wet day in September Patsy was sitting by the kitchen fire
eating bread and sugar for want of better amusement when he was cheered
by the sight of a tall figure in a green plaid shawl hurrying past the
window in the driving rain. He got up from his creepie stool to go for
the other children, who were playing in the schoolroom, when Lull,
sprinkling clothes at the table, exclaimed:
"Bad luck to it, here's that ould runner again."
Patsy quietly moved his stool back into the shadow of the chimney
corner. In that mood Lull, if she saw him, would chase him from the
kitchen when the news began; and clearly Teressa was bringing news
worth hearing. As far back as Patsy or any of the children could
remember, Teressa had brought the village gossip to Rowallan. Neither
rain nor storm could keep the old woman back when there was news to
tell. One thing only--a dog in her path--had power to turn her aside.
The quietest dog sent her running like a hare, and the most obviously
imitated bark made her cry.
She came in, shaking the rain from her shawl.
"Woman, dear, but that's the saft day. I'm dreepin' to the marrow
bone."
"What an' iver brought ye out?" said Lull shortly.
Teressa sank into a chair, and wiped her wet face with the corner of
her apron. "'Deed, ye may weel ast me. My grandson was for stoppin'
me, but says I to myself, says I, the mistress be to hear this before
night."
"She'll hear no word of it, then," said Lull. "She's sleepin' sound,
an' I'd cut aff my han' afore I'd wake her for any ould clash."
Teressa paid no heed. "Such carryin's-on, Lull, I niver seen. Mrs
M'Rea, the woman, she bates Banagher. She's drunk as much whiskey
these two days as would destroy a rigiment, an' now she has the whole
village up with her talk."
"Andy was tellin' me she was at it again," said Lull.
"Och, I wisht ye'd see her," said Teressa. "She was neither to bind
nor to stay. An' the tongue of her. Callin' us a lock a' papishes an'
fenians! Sure, she was sittin' on Father Ryan's dour-step till past
twelve o'clock wavin' an or'nge scarf, an' singin' 'Clitter Clatter,
Holy Watter.'"
"Dear help us," said Lull.
"'Deed, I'm sayin' it," said Teressa. "An when his riverence come out
to her it was nothin' but a hape of abuse, an' to hell wid the
| 668.199171 | 3,217 |
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Produced by James McCormick
THE PAN-ANGLES
{ii}
{iii}
THE PAN-ANGLES
A CONSIDERATION OF THE FEDERATION OF THE SEVEN ENGLISH-SPEAKING
NATIONS
BY
SINCLAIR KENNEDY
_WITH A MAP_
SECOND IMPRESSION
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK
LONDON, BOMBAY. CALCUTTA AND MADRAS
1915
_All Rights Reserved_
{iv}
{v}
TO
THE PAN-ANGLES
{vi}
PREFATORY NOTE
THE Author is indebted to the following publishers and authors
for kind permission to make quotations from copyright matter: to
Mr. Edward Arnold for _Colonial Nationalism_, by Richard Jebb;
to Mr. B. H. Blackwell for _Imperial Architects_, by A. L. Burt;
to the Delegates of the Clarendon Press for _Federations and
Unions_, by H. E. Egerton; to Messrs. Constable & Co. for
_Alexander Hamilton_, by F. S. Oliver, and _The Nation and the
Empire_, edited by Lord Milner; to the publishers of the
_Encyclopedia Britannica_; to Messrs. Macmillan & Co. for
Seeley's _Expansion of England_, and G. L. Parkin's _Imperial
Federation_; to Admiral Mahan; to Mr. John Murray for _English
Colonization and Empire_, by A. Caldecott; to Sir Isaac Pitman &
Sons Ltd. for _The Union of South Africa_, by W. B. Worsfold; to
the Executors of the late W. T. Stead for the _Last Will and
Testament of C. J. Rhodes_; to Messrs. H. Stevens, Son, & Stiles
for _Thomas Pownall_, by C. A. W. Pownall; to Messrs. Houghton,
Mifflin Company for Thayer's _John Marshall_ and Woodrow
Wilson's _Mere Literature_; to Messrs. D. C. Heath & Co. for
Woodrow Wilson's _The State_; to Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons for
_The Works of Benjamin Franklin_, edited by John Bigelow; to the
Yale University Press for _Popular Government_, by W. H. Taft;
and also to _The Times_; _The Round Table_; _The Outlook_; and
_The Springfield Weekly Republican_.
{vii}
FOREWORD
THE English-speaking, self-governing white people of the world
in 1914 number upwards of one hundred and forty-one millions.
Since December 24, 1814, there has been unbroken peace between
the two independent groups of this race--a fact that contravenes
the usual historical experiences of peoples between whom there
has been uninterrupted communication during so long an epoch.
The last few decades have seen increasingly close understandings
between both the governments and the peoples of this
civilization.
In 1900 the British navy controlled the seas--all seas. From
1910 to 1914 the British navy has controlled the North Sea
only.[vii-1] Some doubt whether this control can long be
maintained. If it is lost, the British Empire is
finished.[vii-2] The adhesion of the dependencies to their
various governments and also the voluntary cohesion of the
self-governing units would be at an end. "The disorders which
followed the fall of Rome would be insignificant compared with
those which would {viii} ensue were the British Empire to break
in pieces."[viii-1] Such a splitting up would place each
English-speaking nation in an exposed position, and would
strengthen its rivals, Germany, Japan, Russia, and China. It
would compel America to protect with arms, or to abandon to its
enemies, not only the countries to which the Monroe Doctrine has
been considered as applicable, but those lands still more
important to the future of our race, New Zealand and Australia.
If this catastrophe is to be averted, the English-speaking
peoples must regain control of the seas.
These pages are concerned with the English-speaking people of
1914. Here will be found no jingoism, if this be defined as a
desire to flaunt power for its own sake; no altruism, if this
means placing the welfare of others before one's own; and no
sentiment except that which leads to self-preservation. No
technical discussion of military or naval power is here
attempted. The purpose of these pages is to indicate some of the
common heritages of these English-speaking peoples, their need
of land and their desire for the sole privilege of taxing
themselves for their own purposes and in their own way.
Federation is here recognized as the method by which
English-speaking people ensure the freedom of the individual. It
utilizes ideals and methods common to them all. Where it has
been applied, it fulfils its dual purpose of protecting the
group and leaving the individual unhampered.
This consideration may appear to the political {ix} economist to
be merely a few comments on one instance of the relationship of
the food supply to the excess of births over deaths; to the
international politician, as notes on the struggles of the
English-speaking race; and to the business man, as hints on
present and future markets and the maintenance of routes
thereto. Books could be written on each of these and kindred
topics. This is not any one of such treatises, but a statement
of only a few aspects of a huge question.
To Benjamin Franklin may be given the credit of initiating the
thesis of these pages, for he foresaw in 1754 the need of a
single government based on the representation of both the
American and British groups of self-governing English-speaking
people. Possibly there were others before him. Certainly there
have been many since. Some have been obscured by time. Others,
like Cecil John Rhodes, stand out brilliantly. These men
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Produced by David A. Schwan
THE CASE OF SUMMERFIELD
By William Henry Rhodes
With an Introduction by Geraldine Bonner
THE INTRODUCTION
The greatest master of the short story our country has known found his
inspiration and produced his best work in California. It is now nearly
forty years since "The Luck of Roaring Camp" appeared, and a line of
successors, more or less worthy, have been following along the
trail blazed by Bret Harte. They have given us matter of many kinds,
realistic, romantic, tragic, humorous, weird. In this mass of material
much that was good has been lost. The columns of newspapers swallowed
some; weeklies, that lived for a brief day, carried others to the grave
with them. Now and then chance or design interposed, and some fragment
of value was not allowed to perish. It is matter for congratulation that
the story in this volume was one
| 668.378022 | 3,219 |
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Produced by Juli Rew.
Vanity Fair
by
William Makepeace Thackeray
BEFORE THE CURTAIN
As the manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards
and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over
him in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of
eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the
contrary, smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing and fiddling; there are
bullies pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets,
policemen on the look-out, quacks (OTHER quacks, plague take them!)
bawling in front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the
tinselled dancers and poor old rouged tumblers, while the
light-fingered folk are operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this
is VANITY FAIR; not a moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though
very noisy.
| 668.379249 | 3,220 |
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Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by Google Books
THE LAST PENNY
By Edwin Lefevre
Harper And Brothers Publishers
New York And London
1917
[Illustration: 0008]
[Illustration: 0011]
TO THE LAST PENNY
CHAPTER I
THOMAS LEIGH, ex-boy, considered the dozen neckties before him a long
time, and finally decided to wait until after breakfast.
It was his second day at home and his third day out of college. Already
his undergraduate life seemed far away. His triumphs--of personality
rather than of scholarship--lingered as a luminous mist that softened
the sterner realities and mellowed them goldenly. When one is young
reminiscences of one's youth are apt to take on a tinge of melancholy,
but Tommy, not having breakfasted, shook off the mood determinedly. He
was two hundred and fifty-five months old; therefore, he decided that no
great man ever crosses a bridge until he comes to it. Tommy's bridge
was still one long joy-ride ahead. The sign, “Slow down to four miles an
hour!” was not yet in sight. The selection of the necktie was a serious
matter because he was to lunch at Sherry's with the one sister and the
younger of the two cousins of Rivington Willetts.
In the mean time he had an invitation to spend the first half of July
with Bull Wilson's folks at Gloucester, a week with “Van” Van Schaick
for the cruise at Newport, as long as he wished with Jimmy Maitland at
Mr. Maitland's camp in the Adirondacks, and he had given a half promise
to accompany Ellis Gladwin to Labrador for big game in the fall.
He suddenly remembered that he was at his last ten-spot. There was the
Old Man to touch for fifty bucks. And also--sometime--he must have a
heart-to-heart talk of a business nature about his allowance. He and
his friends desired to take a post-graduate course. They proposed to
specialize on New York.
Mr. Leigh always called him Thomas. This had saved Mr. Leigh at least
one thousand dollars a year during Tommy's four at college, by making
Tommy realize that he had no doting father. At times the boy had sent
his requests for an extra fifty with some misgivings--by reason of the
impelling cause of the request--but Mr. Leigh always sent the check for
the exact amount by return mail, and made no direct reference to
it. Instead he permitted himself an irrelevant phrase or two, like,
“Remember, Thomas, that you must have no conditions at the end of the
term.”
Possibly because of a desire to play fair with a parent who had no sense
of humor, or perhaps it was because he was level-headed enough not to
overwork a good thing, at all events Tommy managed, sometimes pretty
narrowly, to escape the conditions. And being very popular, and knowing
that quotable wisdom was expected of him, he was rather careful of what
he said and did.
He knew nothing about his father's business affairs, excepting that Mr.
Leigh was connected with the Metropolitan National Bank, which was a
very rich bank, and that he continued to live in the little house on
West Twelfth Street, because it was in that house that Mrs. Leigh had
lived her seventeen months of married life--it was where Tommy was bom
and where she died. The furniture was chiefly old family pieces which,
without his being aware of it, had made Tommy feel at home in the houses
of the very wealthy friends he had made at college. It is something to
have been American for two hundred years. Family furniture reminds you
of it every day.
Tommy wondered, curiously rather than anxiously, how much his father
would allow him, and whether it would be wiser to argue like a man
against its inadequacy or to plead like a boy for an increase; then
whether he ought to get it in cash Saturday mornings or to have a
checking account at his father's bank. But one thing was certain--he
would not be led into reckless check-signing habits. His boy-financier
days were over. Those of his friends who had multi-millionaire fathers
were always complaining of being hard up. It was, therefore, not an
unfashionable thing to be. He surmised that his father was not really
rich, because he kept no motor, had no expensive personal habits,
belonged to no clubs, and never sent to Tommy at college more money than
Tommy asked for, and, moreover, sent it only when Tommy asked. Since his
Prep-school days Tommy had spent most of his vacations at boys' houses.
Mr. Leigh at times was invited to join him, or to become acquainted with
the families of Tommy's friends, but he never accepted.
Tommy, having definitely decided not to make any plans until after his
first grown-up business talk with his father, looked at himself in the
mirror and put on his best serious look. He was satisfied with it.
He had successfully used it on mature business men when soliciting
advertisements for the college paper.
He then decided to breakfast with his father, who had the eccentric habit
of leaving the house at exactly eight-forty a.m.
It was actually only eight-eight when Tommy entered the dining-room.
Maggie, the elderly chambermaid and waitress, in her twenty-second
consecutive year of service, whom he always remembered as the only woman
who could be as taciturn as his father, looked surprised, but served him
oatmeal. It was a warm day in June, but this household ran in ruts.
Mr. Leigh looked up from his newspaper. “Good morning, Thomas,” he said.
Then he resumed his _Tribune_.
“Good morning, father,” said Tommy, and had a sense of having left his
salutation unfinished. He breakfasted in a sober, business-like way,
feeling age creeping upon him. Nevertheless, when he had finished he
hesitated to light a cigarette. He never had done it in the house, for
his father had expressed the wish that his son should not smoke until he
was of age. Tommy's twenty-first birthday had come off at college.
Well, he was of age now.
The smell of the vile thing made Mr. Leigh look at his son, frowning.
Then he ceased to frown. “Ah yes,” he observed, meditatively, “you are
of age. You are a man now.”
“I suspect I am, father,” said Thomas, pleasantly. “In fact, I--”
“Then it is time you heard man's talk!”
Mr. Leigh took out his watch, looked at it, and put it back in his
pocket with a methodical leisureliness that made Tommy realize that Mr.
Leigh was a very old man, though he could not be more than fifty. Tommy
was silent, and was made subtly conscious that in not speaking he was
somehow playing safe.
“Thomas, I have treated you as a boy during twenty-one years.” Mr. Leigh
paused just long enough for Tommy to wonder why he had not added “and
three months.” Mr. Leigh went on, with that same uncomfortable, senile
precision: “Your mother would have wished it. You are a man now and--”
He closed his lips abruptly, but without any suggestion of temper or of
making a sudden decision, and rose, a bit stiffly. His face took on
a look of grim resolution that filled Tommy with that curious form of
indeterminate remorse with which we anticipate abstract accusations
against which there is no concrete defense. It seemed to make an utter
stranger of Mr. Leigh. Tommy saw before him a life with which his
own did not merge. He would have preferred a scolding as being more
paternal, more humanly flesh-and-blood. He was not frightened.
He never had been wild; at the worst he had been a complacent shirker
of future responsibilities, with that more or less adventurous desire
to float on the tide that comes to American boys whose financial
necessities do not compel them to fix their anchorage definitely. At
college such boys are active citizens in their community, concerned
with sports and class politics, and the development of their immemorial
strategy against existing institutions. And for the same sad reason of
youth Tommy could not possibly know that he was now standing, not on a
rug in his father's dining-room, but on the top of life's first hill,
with a pleasant valley below him--and one steep mountain beyond. All
that his quick self-scrutinizing could do was to end in wondering which
particular exploit, thitherto deemed unknown to his father, was to be
the key-note of the impending speech. And for the life of him, without
seeking self-extenuation, he could not think of any serious enough to
bring so grimly determined a look on his father's face.
Mr. Leigh folded the newspaper, and, without looking at his son, said,
harshly, “Come with me into the library.”
Tommy followed his father into the particularly gloomy room at the back
of the second floor, where all the chairs were too uncomfortable for any
one to wish to read any book there. On the small black-walnut table were
the family Bible, an ivory paper-cutter, and a silver frame in which was
a fading photograph of his mother.
“Sit down!” commanded the old man. There was a new note in the voice.
Tommy sat down, the vague disquietude within him for the first time
rising to alarm. He wondered if his father's mind was sound, and
instantly dismissed the suspicion. It was too unpleasant to consider,
and, moreover, it seemed disloyal. Tommy was very strong on loyalty. His
college life had given it to him.
Mr. Leigh looked, not at his son but at the photograph of his son's
mother, a long time it seemed to Tommy. At length he raised his head and
stared at his son.
Tommy saw that the grimness had gone. There remained only calm
| 668.932934 | 3,221 |
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| 1,079 | 441 |
Produced by Linda M. Everhart, Blairstown, Missouri
STEEL TRAPS.
[Illustration: NEWHOUSE TRAPS--ALL SIZES.]
STEEL TRAPS.
Describes the Various Makes and Tells How
to Use Them--Also Chapters on
Care of Pelts, Etc.
BY
A. R. HARDING.
PUBLISHED BY
A. R. HARDING PUBLISHING CO.
COLUMBUS, OHIO
Copyright 1907
By A. R. Harding.
CONTENTS.
I. Sewell Newhouse
II. Well Made Traps
III. A Few Failures
IV. Some European Traps
V. Proper Sizes
VI. Newhouse Traps
VII. Double and Webbed Jaw Traps
VIII. Victor and Hawley & Norton Traps
IX. Jump Traps
X. Tree Traps
XI. Stop Thief Traps
XII. Wide Spreading Jaws
XIII. Caring For Traps
XIV. Marking Traps
XV. How to Fasten
XVI. How to Set
XVII. Where to Set
XVIII. Looking at Traps
XIX. Mysteriously Sprung Traps
XX. Good Dens
XXI. The Proper Bait
XXII. Scent and Decoys
XXIII. Human Scent and Sign
XXIV. Hints on Fall Trapping
XXV. Land Trapping
XXVI. Water Trapping
XXVII. When to Trap
XXVIII. Some Deep Water Sets
XXIX. Skinning and Stretching
XXX. Handling and Grading
XXXI. From Animal to Market
XXXII. Miscellaneous Information
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Newhouse Traps--All Sizes
Mr. Sewell Newhouse
The First Shop
Old Newhouse Trap
A Well Made Trap
Limb Growing Thru Jaws
"Bob Tail" Trap
Defective Pan Bearing
The All Steel
The Modified All Steel
Poor Setting Device
Double Jaw Without Dog
The Duplex
The "No Cross"
German Fox Trap
English Rabbit Trap
Awaiting The Trapper
Wisconsin Trapper, Furs and Traps
Mink, Trapped Under An Old Root
No. 0 Newhouse Trap
No. 1 Newhouse Trap
No. 1 1/2 or Mink Trap
No. 2 or Fox Trap
No. 3 or Otter Trap
No. 4 or Wolf Trap
No. 2 1/2 or Otter Trap With Teeth
No. 3 1/2 or Extra Strong Otter Trap
No. 21 1/2 Without Teeth
Offset Jaw Beaver Trap
Detachable Clutch Trap
Newhouse Special Wolf Trap
Small Bear Trap
Small Bear Trap With Offset Jaws
Standard Bear Trap
Regular Bear Trap With Offset Jaws
Grizzly Bear Trap
Bear Trap Chain Clevis
Steel Trap Setting Clamp
No. 81 or Webbed Jaw Trap
No. 91 or Double Jaw Trap
A Morning Catch of Skunk
No. 1 Victor Trap
No. 4 Victor Trap
No. 1 Oneida Jump
No. 4 Oneida Jump
A "Jump" Trap Trapper
The Tree Trap
Tree Trap Set and Animal Approaching
Animal Killed in Tree Trap
Stop Thief Trap
Method of Setting Stop Thief Trap
Trapper's Cabin and Pack Horses
Trapper Making Bear Set
Washing and Greasing Traps
Putting the Traps in Order
Traps and Trapper
Marked and Ready to Set
The Sliding Pole
A Staple Fastening
Shallow Water Set
Hole Set Before Covering
Another Hole Set Before Covering
Hole Set After Covering
Wrong Position Set
The Three Log Set
Marten Shelf Set
Big Game Set
Ring or Loop Fastening
Caught Within the Limits of Chicago
Fox, Wolf or Coyote Trail
Fox, Wolf or Coyote on the Run
Muskrat Tracks
Mink and Opossum Tracks
Wisconsin Trapper--Knows Where to Set
Profitable Day's Catch
Snowshoeing Over the Trapping Line
Once Over the Line--White Weasel
Caught Just Before a Cold Snap
Bait Stealer--Bird
Northern Trapper With Pack Basket
Some Northern Furs
Nebraska Trapper's One Night Catch
Night's Catch by Colorado Trapper
Both Trappers--Father and Daughter
Part of Connecticut Trapper's Catch
Eastern Trapper's Catch
Caught
| 668.95058 | 3,222 |
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| 1,125 | 423 |
Produced by Patrick Hopkins, Cindy Horton, Chris Curnow
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note
- Footnotes are located at the end of the text, before the index.
- 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.
* * * * *
Hawaiian
Historical Society Reprints, (No. 2)
(1779)
A Narrative of the Death
OF
Captain James Cook
By DAVID SAMWELL
Surgeon of The Discovery
LONDON:
Printed for G. C. J. and J. Robinson, Pater-Noster-Row
MDCCLXXXVI
(The Edition of this Reprint is Limited to 500 Copies)
[Illustration: _CAPTAIN JAMES COOK_]
A
N A R R A T I V E
OF THE
D E A T H
OF
C A P T A I N J A M E S C O O K.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED SOME
P A R T I C U L A R S,
CONCERNING HIS
L I F E A N D C H A R A C T E R.
AND
O B S E R V A T I O N S
RESPECTING THE
I N T R O D U C T I O N
OF THE
V E N E R E A L D I S E A S E
INTO THE
S A N D W I C H I S L A N D S.
BY D A V I D S A M W E L L,
SURGEON OF THE DISCOVERY.
L O N D O N:
PRINTED FOR G. C. J. AND J. ROBINSON, PATER-NOSTER-ROW,
MDCCLXXXVI.
[Photographic reproduction of the original title page.]
Foreword
In presenting this reprint to our members the editor wishes to express
his thanks to Professor W. T. Brigham of the Bishop Museum for
furnishing him with a photograph of Captain Cook, from which the cut in
this reprint was made; to Mr. John F. G. Stokes of the Bishop Museum for
his assistance in identifying the Hawaiian names, and to Mr. J. W.
Waldron for furnishing a typewritten copy of the book of which this is a
reprint.
The modern Hawaiian names are inserted in brackets following those given
in the text.
This reprint was edited and indexed for the Hawaiian Historical Society
by Bruce Cartwright, Jr.
Preface
To those who have perused the account of the last voyage to the Pacific
Ocean, the following sheets may, at first sight, appear superfluous. The
author, however, being of the opinion, that the event of Captain Cook's
death has not yet been so explicitly related as the importance of it
required, trusts that this Narrative will not be found altogether a
repetition of what is already known. At the same time, he wishes to add
his humble testimony to the merit of the account given of this
transaction by Captain King. Its brevity alone can afford an excuse for
this publication, the object of which is to give a more particular
relation of that unfortunate affair, which he finds is in general but
imperfectly understood. He thinks himself warranted in saying this, from
having frequently observed, that the public opinion seemed to attribute
the loss of Captain Cook's life, in some measure, to rashness or too
much confidence on his side; whereas nothing can be more ill-founded or
unjust. It is, therefore, a duty which his friends owe to his character,
to have the whole affair candidly and fully related, whatever facts it
may involve, that may appear of a disagreeable nature to individuals.
The author is confident, that if Captain King could have foreseen, that
any wrong opinion respecting Captain Cook, would have been the
consequence of omitting some circumstances relative to his death; the
goodnatured motive that induced him to be silent, would not have stood a
moment in competition with the superior call of justice to the memory of
his friend. This publication, he is satisfied, would not have been
disapproved of by Captain King, for whose memory he has the highest
esteem, and to whose friendship he is under many obligations. He is
sanguine enough to believe that it will serve to remove a supposition,
in this single instance, injurious to the memory of Captain Cook, who
was no less distinguished for his caution and prudence, than for his
eminent abilities and undaunted resolution.
The late
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Proofreaders
THE ANTI-SLAVERY HARP:
A COLLECTION OF SONGS FOR ANTI-SLAVERY MEETINGS
COMPILED BY
WILLIAM W. BROWN,
A FUGITIVE SLAVE.
1848.
PREFACE.
The demand of the public for a cheap Anti-Slavery Song-Book,
containing Songs of a more recent composition, has induced me
to collect together, and present to the public, the songs contained
in this book.
In making this collection, however, I am indebted to the authors
of the "Liberty Minstrel," and "the Anti-Slavery Melodies,"
But the larger portion of these songs has never before been published;
some have never been in print.
To all true friends of the Slave, the Anti-Slavery Harp is
respectfully dedicated,
W. W. BROWN.
BOSTON, JUNE, 1848.
SONGS.
HAVE WE NOT ALL ONE FATHER?
AM I NOT A MAN AND BROTHER?
AIR--Bride's Farewell.
Am I not a man and brother?
Ought I not, then, to be free?
Sell me not one to another,
Take not thus my liberty.
Christ our Saviour, Christ our Saviour,
Died for me as well as thee.
Am I not a man and brother?
Have I not a soul to save?
Oh, do not my spirit smother,
Making me a wretched slave;
God of mercy, God of mercy,
Let me fill a freeman's grave!
Yes, thou art a man and brother,
Though thou long hast groaned a slave,
Bound with cruel cords and tether
From the cradle to the grave!
Yet the Saviour, yet the Saviour,
Bled and died all souls to save.
Yes, thou art a man and brother,
Though we long have told thee nay;
And are bound to aid each other,
All along our pilgrim way.
Come and welcome, come and welcome,
Join with us to praise and pray!
O, PITY THE SLAVE MOTHER.
AIR--Araby's Daughter.
I pity the slave mother, careworn and weary,
Who sighs as she presses her babe to her breast;
I lament her sad fate, all so hopeless and dreary,
I lament for her woes, and her wrongs unredressed.
O who can imagine her heart's deep emotion,
As she thinks of her children about to be sold;
You may picture the bounds of the rock-girdled ocean,
But the grief of that mother can never be known.
The mildew of slavery has blighted each blossom,
That ever has bloomed in her path-way below;
It has froze every fountain that gushed in her bosom,
And chilled her heart's verdure with pitiless woe;
Her parents, her kindred, all crushed by oppression;
Her husband still doomed in its desert to stay;
No arm to protect from the tyrant's aggression--
She must weep as she treads on her desolate way.
O, slave mother, hope! see--the nation is shaking!
The arm of the Lord is awake to thy wrong!
The slave-holder's heart now with terror is quaking,
Salvation and Mercy to Heaven belong!
Rejoice, O rejoice! for the child thou art rearing,
May one day lift up its unmanacled form,
While hope, to thy heart, like the rain-bow so cheering,
Is born, like the rain-bow,'mid tempest and storm.
THE BLIND SLAVE BOY.
AIR--Sweet Afton.
Come back to me, mother! why linger away
From thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day!
I mark every footstep, I list to each tone,
And wonder my mother should leave me alone!
There are voices of sorrow, and voices of glee,
But there's no one to joy or to sorrow with me;
For each hath of pleasure and trouble his share,
And none for the poor little blind boy will care.
My mother, come back to me! close to thy breast
Once more let thy poor little blind one be pressed;
Once more let me feel thy warm breath on my cheek,
And hear thee in accents of tenderness speak!
O mother! I've no one to love me--no heart
Can bear like thine own in my sorrows a part;
No hand is so gentle, no voice is so kind,
O! none like a mother can cherish the blind!
Poor blind one! No mother thy wailing can hear,
No mother can hasten to banish thy fear;
For the slave-owner drives her, o'er mountain and wild,
And for one paltry dollar hath sold thee, poor child!
Ah! who can in language of mortals reveal
The anguish that none but a mother can feel,
When man in his vile lust of mammon hath trod
On her child, who is stricken and smitten of God!
Blind, helpless, forsaken, with strangers alone,
She hears in her anguish his piteous moan,
As he eagerly listens--but listens in vain,
To catch the loved tones of
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"Boy Wanted"
Nixon Waterman
[Illustration]
Do not loiter or shirk,
Do not falter or shrink;
But just think out your work
And then work out your "think".
OTHER BOOKS BY NIXON WATERMAN
A BOOK OF VERSES
IN MERRY MOOD
A Book of Cheerful Rhymes.
Cloth, 12mo, each, $1.25.
FORBES & COMPANY, CHICAGO
[Illustration: CABIN IN WHICH LINCOLN WAS BORN]
"BOY WANTED"
A BOOK OF CHEERFUL COUNSEL
BY
NIXON WATERMAN
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL WANTED,"
"A BOOK OF VERSES," ETC.
TORONTO
McCLELLAND & GOODCHILD
Limited
COPYRIGHT, 1906
BY
NIXON WATERMAN
_All Rights Reserved_
TO
--THE BOY WHO DISCERNS
HE CAN NEVER BE "IT"
UNTIL HE DEVELOPS
SOME "GIT-UP-AND-GIT."
Acknowledgments are hereby made to the publishers of Life, Success,
Saturday Evening Post, Woman's Home Companion, St. Nicholas, Christian
Endeavor World, Young People's Weekly, Youth's Companion, and other
periodicals, for their courteous permission to reprint the author's
copyrighted poems which originally appeared in their publications.
PREFACE
In presenting this book of cheerful counsel to his youthful friends,
and such of the seniors as are not too old to accept a bit of friendly
admonition, the author desires to offer a word of explanation regarding
the history of the making of this volume.
So many letters have been received from people of all classes and ages
requesting copies of some of the author's lines best suited for the
purpose of engendering a sense of self-help in the mind of youth, that
he deems it expedient to offer a number of his verses in the present
collected form. While he is indebted to a great array of bright minds
for the prose incidents and inspiration which constitute a large
portion of this volume, he desires to be held personally responsible
for all of the rhymed lines to be found within these covers.
It may be especially true of advice that "it is more blessed to
give than to receive," but it is hoped that in this present form of
tendering friendly counsel the precepts will be accepted in the same
cheerful spirit in which they are offered.
The author realizes that no one is more urgently in need of good advice
and the intelligence to follow it than is the writer of these lines,
and none cries more earnestly the well-known truth--
Oh, fellow men and brothers,
Could we but use the free
Advice we give to others,
How happy we should be!
While the title of this book and the character of its contents make
it obvious that it is a volume designed primarily for the guidance
of youth, no one should pass it by merely because he has reached the
years of maturity, and presumably of discretion. As a matter of fact
Time cannot remove any of us very far from the fancies and foibles, the
dreams and dangers of life's morning hours.
Age bringeth wisdom, so they say,
But lots of times we've seen
A man long after he was gray
Keep right on being "green."
N. W.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE AWAKENING 11
The life partnership. When to begin. Foresight. "Boy Wanted."
The power of mind. "Couldn't and Could." Selfmade men. "Deliver
the Goods."
II "AM I A GENIUS?" 23
Genius defined. Inspiration and perspiration. "Stick to It."
Genius and patience. "Keep Pegging Away." Examples of patience.
"The Secret of Success."
III OPPORTUNITY 35
What is a fair chance? Abraham Lincoln. Depending on self.
"Myself and I." The importance of the present moment. "Right
Here and Just Now." Poverty and success. "Keep A-Trying."
IV OVER AND UNDERDOING 49
Precocity. Starting too soon as bad as starting too late. The
value of health. "Making a man." The worth of toil. "How to Win
Success." Sharpened wits. "The Steady Worker."
V THE VALUE OF SPARE MOMENTS 61
Wasting time. "The 'Going-to-Bees!'" The possibilities of one
hour a day. "Just This Minute." The vital importance of
properly employing leisure moments. "Do It Now."
VI CHEERFULNESS
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Haviland's Chum, by Bertram Mitford.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
HAVILAND'S CHUM, BY BERTRAM MITFORD.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE NEW BOY.
"Hi! Blacky! Here--hold hard. D'you hear, Snowball?"
The last peremptorily. He thus addressed, paused, turned, and eyed
somewhat doubtfully, not without a tinge of apprehension, the group of
boys who thus hailed him.
"What's your name?" pursued the latter, "Caesar, Pompey, Snowball--
what?"
"Or Uncle Tom?" came another suggestion.
"I--new boy," was the response.
"New boy! Ugh!" jeered one fellow. "Time I left if they are going to
take <DW65>s here. What's your name, sir--didn't you hear me ask?"
"Mpukuza."
"Pookoo--how much?"
For answer the other merely emitted a click, which might have conveyed
contempt, disgust, defiance, or a little of all three. He was an
African lad of about fifteen, straight and lithe and well-formed, and
his skin was of a rich copper brown. But there was a clean-cut look
about the set of his head, and an almost entire absence of <DW64>
development of nose and lips, which seemed to point to the fact that it
was with no inferior race aboriginal to the dark continent that he owned
nationality.
Now a hoot was raised among the group, and there was a tendency to
hustle this very unwonted specimen of a new boy. He, however, took it
good-humouredly, exhibiting a magnificent set of teeth in a tolerant
grin. But the last speaker, a biggish, thick-set fellow who was
something of a bully, was not inclined to let him down so easily.
"Take off your hat, sir!" he cried, knocking it off the other's head, to
a distance of some yards. "Now, Mr Woollyhead, perhaps you'll answer
my question and tell us your name, or I shall have to see if some of
this'll come out." And, suiting the action to the word, he reached
forward and grabbed a handful of the other's short, crisp, jetty curls--
jerking his head backwards and forwards.
The African boy uttered a hoarse ejaculation in a strange tongue, and
his features worked with impotent passion. He could not break loose,
and his tormentor was taller and stronger than himself. He put up his
hands to free himself, but the greater his struggles the more the bully
jerked him by the wool, with a malignant laugh. The others laughed too,
enjoying the fun of what they regarded as a perfectly wholesome and
justifiable bout of <DW65> baiting.
But a laugh has an unpleasant knack of transferring itself to the other
side, and in this instance an interruption occurred--wholly
unlooked-for, but sharp and decisive, not to say violent, and to the
prime mover in the sport highly unpleasant--for it took the shape of a
hearty, swinging cuff on the side of that worthy's head. He, with a
howl that was half a curse, staggered a yard or two under the force of
the blow, at the same time loosing his hold of his victim. Then the
latter laughed--being the descendant of generations of savages--laughed
loud and maliciously.
"Confound it, Haviland, what's that for?" cried the smitten one, feeing
round upon his smiter.
"D'you want some more, Jarnley?" came the quick reply. "As it is I've a
great mind to have you up before the prefects' council for bullying a
new boy."
"Prefects' council," repeated Jarnley with a sneer. "That's just it.
If you weren't a prefect, Haviland, I'd fight you. And you know it."
"But I don't know it and I don't think it," was the reply. The while,
something of a smothered hoot was audible among the now rapidly
increasing group, for Haviland, for reasons which will hereinafter
appear, was not exactly a popular prefect. It subsided however, as by
magic, when he
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[Illustration: Cover art]
A Bunch of Cherries
A STORY OF CHERRY COURT SCHOOL
BY
Mrs. L. T. MEADE
AUTHOR OF
"A Modern Tomboy," "The School Favorite," "Children's Pilgrimage,"
"Little Mother to the Others," Etc.
CHICAGO:
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
1898
CONTENTS
CHAPTER.
I. The School
II. The Girls
III. The Telegram
IV. Sir John's Great Scheme
V. Florence
VI. Kitty and Her Father
VII. Cherry-Colored Ribbons
VIII. The Letter
IX. The Little Mummy
X. Aunt Susan
XI. "I Always Admired Frankness"
XII. The Fairy Box
XIII. An Invitation
XIV. At the Park
XV. The Pupil Teacher
XVI. Temptation
XVII. The Fall
XVIII. The Guests Arrive
XIX. Tit for Tat
XX. The Hills for Ever
XXI. The Sting of the Serpent
XXII. The Voice of God
A BUNCH OF CHERRIES.
CHAPTER I.
THE SCHOOL.
The house was long and low and rambling. In parts at least it must
have been quite a hundred years old, and even the modern portion was
not built according to the ideas of the present day, for in 1870 people
were not so aesthetic as they are now, and the lines of beauty and
grace were not considered all essential to happiness.
So even the new part of the house had square rooms destitute of
ornament, and the papers were
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project
Gutenberg.
The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898
Explorations by early navigators, descriptions of the islands and
their peoples, their history and records of the catholic missions,
as related in contemporaneous books and manuscripts, showing the
political, economic, commercial and religious conditions of those
islands from their earliest relations with European nations to the
close of the nineteenth century,
Volume XXXVII, 1669-1676
Edited and annotated by Emma Helen Blair and James Alexander Robertson
with historical introduction and additional notes by Edward Gaylord
Bourne.
The Arthur H. Clark Company
Cleveland, Ohio
MCMVI
CONTENTS OF VOLUME
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[Illustration: "The hunt became a mad break-neck scramble across the
rocky plain." [PAGE 143]]
WHITE OTTER
BY
ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR
AUTHOR OF "CAMPING ON WESTERN TRAILS," "THE RED ARROW," ETC.
FRONTISPIECE BY
D. C. HUTCHISON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1924
By ELMER R. GREGOR
JIM MASON, BACKWOODSMAN
JIM MASON, SCOUT
_Western Indian Series...._
WHITE OTTER
THE WAR TRAIL
THREE SIOUX SCOUTS
_Eastern Indian Series_
SPOTTED DEER
RUNNING FOX
THE WHITE WOLF
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. RIDERS OF THE NIGHT 1
II. THE WAR PARTY 14
III. TRAILING THE ENEMY 31
IV. A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 50
V. A SURPRISE 66
VI. A FIGHT IN THE DARK 85
VII. THE MINNECONJOUX CAMP 97
VIII. VISITORS FROM THE NORTH 114
IX. THE GREAT BUFFALO DRIVE 137
X. AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE PEAKS 156
XI. A CALL TO WAR 177
XII. A NIGHT OF UNCERTAINTY 189
XIII. RACING TO THE RESCUE 212
XIV. THE PLIGHT OF THE OGALALAS 222
XV. WHITE OTTER'S BOLD RESOLVE 241
XVI. A BAFFLING TRAIL 253
XVII. A PEEP INTO THE PAWNEE CAMP 267
XVIII. A DARING ATTEMPT 278
XIX. A SPLENDID VICTORY 292
XX. THE CROWN OF EAGLE PLUMES 305
WHITE OTTER
CHAPTER I
RIDERS OF THE NIGHT
It was the time of the new-grass moon. The long cold winter had finally
passed, and the season of abundance was at hand. The Sioux gave thanks
to the Great Mystery with song and dance. They knew that vast herds of
buffaloes would soon appear from the south, and then every want would be
supplied. The hunters were already making plans for the great buffalo
drive which would provide the camp with meat for many days.
It was at this season that White Otter, the grandson of Wolf Robe, the
famous Ogalala war chief, had planned to visit the Minneconjoux camp to
see his friends, Sun Bird and his brother Little Raven. The three young
warriors had shared many perilous adventures the previous year, when
White Otter won fame by recovering the Red Arrow, a Sioux medicine
trophy which had been stolen by the Pawnees, and Sun Bird rescued his
brother from captivity. At that time the lads pledged themselves to an
undying friendship, and Sun Bird and Little Raven accompanied White
Otter to the Ogalala village. When they departed White Otter gave each
two splendid ponies, and promised to visit them the following spring.
Now the time was at hand and he was eager to go.
When Wolf Robe learned White Otter's intention he said: "It is good; the
Minneconjoux are our brothers. Curly Horse, their chief, is a great man.
You will see many brave warriors in that camp. Sun Bird and Little Raven
are your friends. They will tell their people about you. Go and tell the
Minneconjoux that Wolf Robe is thinking about them."
Two days later White Otter set out upon his journey. As he was anxious
to make a good appearance before the proud people whom he planned to
visit, he had arrayed himself with elaborate care. He was dressed in all
the finery of a Sioux warrior. He wore soft doeskin leggings extending
to his thighs, a buckskin breech-cloth, moccasins gayly decorated with
dyed deer-hair, a rawhide belt from which hung his knife-sheath, his
weaselskin pouch containing his fire-sticks and a small buckskin bag
filled with dried meat. His bow and arrows were
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Transcriber's note
Inconsistencies in language and dialect found in the original book have
been retained. Minor punctuation errors have been changed without
notice. Printer errors have been changed and are listed at the end.
RINGAN GILHAIZE
Their constancy in torture and in death--
These on Tradition's tongue still live, these shall
On History's honest page be pictured bright
To latest times.
GRAHAME'S SABBATH.
Ringan
Gilhaize
OR
_THE COVENANTERS_
BY
JOHN GALT
AUTHOR OF
"_Annals of the Parish_," "_Sir Andrew Wylie_," "_The Entail_," _Etc._
EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BY
Sir GEORGE DOUGLAS, Bart.
London
GREENING & CO., LTD.
20 Cecil Court, Charing Cross Road
1899
INTRODUCTION
A NEGLECTED MASTERPIECE
There have, of course, been many men of genius who have united with
great laxity and waywardness in their lives a high and perfect respect
for their art; but instances of the directly contrary practice are much
rarer, and among these there is probably none more prominent than that
of the author of _Ringan Gilhaize_. Gifted by nature with a faculty
which was at once brilliant, powerful and genial, he led an industrious
life, the upright and generally exemplary character of which has never
for a moment been called in question. But, in the sphere of his art, it
is as undeniable as unaccountable that he cared little or nothing to do
his best. The haps or whims of the moment seem, indeed, to have governed
his production with an influence as of stars malign or fortunate.
Furthermore, we know that the profession of authorship--that most
distinguished of all professions, as, speaking in sober sadness without
arrogance, we cannot but be bold to call it--that profession from which
he was himself so well equipt to derive honour--was held by him in low
esteem. So that, speaking of the time of his residence in Upper Canada,
he thinks no shame to observe that he did _then_ consider himself
qualified to do something more useful than "stringing blethers[1] into
rhyme," or "writing 'clishmaclavers' in a closet." And again says he,
"to tell the truth, I have sometimes felt a little shamefaced in
thinking myself so much an author, in consequence of the estimation in
which I view the profession of book-making in general. A mere literary
man--an author by profession--stands low in my opinion." Such remarks as
these from a man of commanding literary talent are the reverse of
pleasant reading. But let us deal with the speaker, as we would
ourselves be dealt by--mercifully, and regard these petulant utterances
as a mere expression of bitterness or perversity in one much tried and
sorely disappointed. Even so, the fact remains that the sum of Galt's
immense and varied production exhibits inequalities of execution for
which only carelessness or contempt in the worker for his task can
adequately account. We shall presently have occasion to speak of him in
his relation to the great contemporary writer to whose life and work his
own work and life present so many interesting points of similarity and
diversity; but we may here note that, in the glaringly disparate
character of his output, the author of _The Provost_ is in absolute
contrast to the author of _The Antiquary_. For, if Scott's work viewed
as a whole be rarely of the very finest literary quality, its evenness
within its own limits is on the other hand very striking indeed. For, of
his twenty-seven novels, there are perhaps but three which fall
perceptibly below the general level of excellence; whilst probably any
one of at least as many as six or eight might by a quorum of competent
judges be selected as the best of all. And hence, where in the case of
other authors we are called on to read this masterpiece or those
specimens, and, having done so, are held to have acquitted ourselves,
in the case of Scott we cannot feel that we have done our duty till we
have read through the Waverley Novels. How entirely different is it with
Galt--where we find _The Omen_ occupying one shelf with _The Radical_,
_The Annals
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TREES WORTH KNOWING
[Illustration: A BEND IN THE TRAIL]
_LITTLE NATURE LIBRARY_
TREES
WORTH KNOWING
BY JULIA ELLEN ROGERS
(_Author of_ _The Tree Book_, _The Tree Guide_, _Trees
Every Child Should Know_, _The Book of Useful
Plants_, _The Shell Book_, _etc., etc._)
[Illustration: "Fructus Quam Folia"]
_With forty-eight illustrations, sixteen being in color_
PUBLISHED BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
FOR
NELSON DOUBLEDAY, INC.
1923
_Copyright, 1917, by_
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
_All rights reserved, including that of
translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
AT
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS. GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION xi
PART I
THE LIFE OF THE TREES 3
PART II
THE NUT TREES 28
The Walnuts; The Hickories; The Beech; The Chestnuts;
The Oaks; The Horse-chestnuts; The Lindens
PART III
WATER-LOVING TREES 75
The Poplars; The Willows; The Hornbeams; The Birches;
The Alders; The Sycamores; The Gum Trees; The Osage Orange
PART IV
TREES WITH SHOWY FLOWERS AND FRUITS 101
The Magnolias; The Dogwoods; The Viburnums; The Mountain
Ashes; The Rhododendron; The Mountain Laurel; The MadroA+-a;
The Sorrel Tree; The Silver Bell Trees; The Sweet Leaf;
The Fringe Tree; The Laurel Family; The Witch Hazel;
The Burning Bush; The Sumachs; The Smoke Tree; The Hollies
PART V
WILD RELATIVES OF OUR ORCHARD TREES 147
The Apples; The Plums; The Cherries; The Hawthorns; The
Service-berries; The Hackberries; The Mulberries; The Figs;
The Papaws; The Pond Apples; The Persimmons
PART VI
THE POD-BEARING TREES 176
The Locusts; The Acacias; Miscellaneous Species
PART VII
DECIDUOUS TREES WITH WINGED SEEDS 193
The Maples; The Ashes; The Elms
PART VIII
THE CONE-BEARING EVERGREENS 217
The Pines; The Spruces; The Firs; The Douglas Spruce;
The Hemlocks; The Sequoias; The Arbor-vitaes; The Incense
Cedar; The Cypresses; The Junipers; The Larches
PART IX
THE PALMS 280
GENERAL INDEX 283
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Canoe or Paper Birch _On Cover_
A Bend in the Trail _Frontispiece_
Shagbark Hickory 6
Mockernut Fruit and Leaves 7
A Grove of Beeches 22
Chestnut Tree 23
Weeping Beech 30
Black Walnut 31
White Oak 38
Bur or Mossy-cup Oak Leaves and Fruit 39
Horse-chestnut in Blossom 54
Weeping Willow 55
Tulip Tree, Flower and Leaves 103
Flowering Dogwood 118
American Elm 215
Eastern Red Cedars and Hickory 230
LIST OF OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Black Walnut Shoots 70
Shagbark Hickory 71
American Linden Leaves and Fruit 86
Trembling Aspen Catkins and Leaves 86-87
Pussy Willow Flowers 86-87
American Hornbeam--A Fruiting Branch 87
The Tattered, Silky Bark of the Birches 102
Sycamore Bark and Seed-balls 102-103
Bark, Seeds, and Seed-balls of the Sweet Gum 102-103
Osage Orange Leaves, and Flowers 119
Dogwood Bark, Blossom, Fruit, and Buds 134
Mountain Ash Flowers and Leaves 135
Sassafras Flowers, Fruit, and Leaves 150
Foliage and Flowers of the Smooth Sumach 150-151
Buds, Leaves, and Fruit of the Wild Crabapple 150-151
Canada Plum--Flowers and Trunk 151
Wild Black Cherry--Flowers and Fruit 166
Fruiting Branch of Cockspur Thorn 167
Service-berry Tree in Blossom 182
Hackberry--Flowers, Fruit, and Leaves 183
Honey Locust's Trunk, and Black Locust's Flowers and Leaves 198
Sugar Maple 198-199
Red Maple Flowers 198-199
Seed Keys and New Leaves of Soft or Silver Maple 199
White Ash Buds and Flowers 214
A Group of White Pines 214-215
Shortleaf Pine Cones and Needles 214-215
The Sugar Pine 231
Leaves and Cones of Hemlock and of Norway Spruce 246
Black Spruce Cones and Needles 247
Spray of Arbor-vitae 262
American Larch Cones and Needles 263
INTRODUCTION
Occasionally I meet a person who says: "I know nothing at all about
trees." This modest disclaimer is generally sincere, but it has always
turned out to be untrue. "Oh, well, that old sugar maple, I've always
known that tree. We used to tap all the sugar maples on the place
every spring." Or again: "Everybody knows a white birch by its bark."
"Of course, anybody who has ever been chestnutting knows a chestnut
tree." Most people know Lombardy poplars, those green exclamation
points so commonly planted in long soldierly rows on roadsides and
boundary lines in many parts of the country. Willows, too, everybody
knows are willows. The best nut trees, the shagbark, chestnut, and
butternut, need no formal introduction. The honey locust has its
striking three-pronged thorns, and its purple pods dangling in winter
and skating off over the snow. The beech has its smooth, close bark of
Quaker gray, and nobody needs to look for further evidence to
determine this tree's name.
So it is easily proved that each person has a good nucleus of tree
knowledge around which to accumulate more. If people have the love of
nature in their hearts--if things out of doors call irresistibly, at
any season--it will not really matter if their lives are pinched and
circumscribed. Ways and means of studying trees are easily found, even
if the scant ends of busy days spent indoors are all the time at
command. If there is energy to begin the undertaking it will soon
furnish its own motive power. Tree students, like bird students,
become enthusiasts. To understand their enthusiasm one must follow
their examples.
The beginner doesn't know exactly how and where to begin. There are
great collections of trees here and there. The Arnold Arboretum in
Boston is the great dendrological Noah's Ark in this country. It
contains almost all the trees, American and foreign, which will grow
in that region. The Shaw Botanical Garden at St. Louis is the largest
midland assemblage of trees. Parks in various cities bring together as
large a variety of trees as possible, and these are often labelled
with their English and botanical names for the benefit of the public.
Yet the places for the beginner are his own dooryard, the streets he
travels four times a day to his work, and woods for his holiday,
though they need not be forests. Arboreta are for his delight when he
has gained some acquaintance with the tree families. But not at first.
The trees may all be set out in tribes and families and labelled with
their scientific names. They will but confuse and discourage him.
There is not time to make their acquaintance. They overwhelm with the
mere number of kinds. Great arboreta and parks are very scarce. Trees
are everywhere. The acquaintance of trees is within the reach of all.
First make a plan of the yard, locating and naming the trees you
actually know. Extend it to include the street, and the neighbors'
yards, as you get ready for them. Be very careful about giving names
to trees. If you think you know a tree, ask yourself _how_ you know
it. Sift out all the guesses, and the hearsays, and begin on a solid
foundation, even if you are sure about only the sugar maple and the
white birch.
The characters to note in studying trees are: leaves, flowers, fruits,
bark, buds, bud arrangement, leaf scars, and tree form. The season of
the year determines which features are most prominent. Buds and leaf
scars are the most unvarying of tree characters. In winter these
traits and the tree frame are most plainly revealed. Winter often
exhibits tree fruits on or under the tree, and dead-leaf studies are
very satisfactory. Leaf arrangement may be made out at any season, for
leaf scars tell this story after the leaves fall.
Only three families of our large trees have opposite leaves. This fact
helps the beginner. Look first at the twigs. If the leaves, or (in
winter) the buds and leaf scars, stand opposite, the tree (if it is of
large size) belongs to the maple, ash, or horse-chestnut family. Our
native horse-chestnuts are buckeyes. If the leaves are simple the tree
is a maple; if pinnately compound, of several leaflets, it is an ash;
if palmately compound, of five to seven leaflets, it is a
horse-chestnut. In winter dead leaves under the trees furnish this
evidence. The winter buds of the horse-chestnut are large and waxy,
and the leaf scars look like prints of a horse's hoof. Maple buds are
small, and the leaf scar is a small, narrow crescent. Ash buds are
dull and blunt, with rough, leathery scales. Maple twigs are slender.
Ash and buckeye twigs are stout and clumsy.
Bark is a distinguishing character of many trees--of others it is
confusing. The sycamore, shedding bark in sheets from its limbs,
exposes pale, smooth under bark. The tree is recognizable by its
mottled appearance winter or summer. The corky ridges on limbs of
sweet gum and bur oak are easily remembered traits. The peculiar
horizontal peeling of bark on birches designates most of the genus.
The prussic-acid taste of a twig sets the cherry tribe apart. The
familiar aromatic taste of the green twigs of sassafras is its best
winter character; the mitten-shaped leaves distinguish it in summer.
It is necessary to get some book on the subject to discover the names
of trees one studies, and to act as teacher at times. A book makes a
good staff, but a poor crutch. The eyes and the judgment are the
dependable things. In spring the way in which the leaves open is
significant; so are the flowers. Every tree when it reaches proper age
bears flowers. Not all bear fruit, but blossoms come on every tree. In
summer the leaves and fruits are there to be examined. In autumn the
ripening fruits are the special features.
To know a tree's name is the beginning of acquaintance--not an end in
itself. There is all the rest of one's life in which to follow it up.
Tree friendships are very precious things. John Muir, writing among
his beloved trees of the Yosemite Valley, adjures his world-weary
fellow men to seek the companionship of trees.
* * * * *
"To learn how they live and behave in pure wildness, to see them in
their varying aspects through the seasons and weather, rejoicing in
the great storms, putting forth their new leaves and flowers, when all
the streams are in flood, and the birds singing, and sending away
their seeds in the thoughtful Indian summer, when all the landscape is
glowing in deep, calm enthusiasm--for this you must love them and live
with them, as free from schemes and care and time as the trees
themselves."
_Tree Names_
Two Latin words, written in italics, with a cabalistic abbreviation
set after them, are a stumbling block on the page to the reader
unaccustomed to scientific lore. He resents botanical names, and
demands to know the tree's name in "plain English." Trees have both
common and scientific names, and each has its use. Common names were
applied to important trees by people, the world over, before science
was born. Many trees were never noticed by anybody until botanists
discovered and named them. They may never get common names at all.
A name is a description reduced to its lowest terms. It consists
usually of a surname and a descriptive adjective: Mary Jones, white
oak, _Quercus alba_. Take the oaks, for example, and let us consider
how they got their names, common and scientific. All acorn-bearing
trees are oaks. They are found in Europe, Asia
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BROAD-SWORD
AND
SINGLE-STICK
R. G. ALLANSON-WINN,
AND
C. PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY.
THE ALL-ENGLAND SERIES.
_Small 8vo, cloth. Illustrated, price 1s. each._
_CRICKET._ By the Hon. and Rev. E. LYTTELTON.
_CRICKET._ By FRED C. HOLLAND.
_LAWN TENNIS._ By H. W. W. WILBERFORCE.
_TENNIS, RACKETS, and FIVES._ By JULIAN MARSHALL, MAJOR SPENS, and
Rev. J. ARNAN TAIT.
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[Double volume, 2_s._]
_GOLF._ By H. S. C. EVERARD. [Double volume, 2_s._]
_HOCKEY._ By F. S. CRESWELL. Revised by P. Collins (1909).
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_SWIMMING._ By M. and J. R. COBBETT.
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_FENCING._ By H. A. COLMORE DUNN.
_BROADSWORD AND SINGLESTICK._ By R. G. ALLANSON-WINN and
C. PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY.
_FOOTBALL--RUGBY._ By HARRY VASSALL. Revised by C. J. B. MARRIOTT (1909).
_FOOTBALL--ASSOCIATION._ By C. W. ALCOCK.
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_BASEBALL._ By NEWTON CRANE.
_RIDING._ By W. A. KERR, V.C. [Double volume, 2_s._]
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LONDON: G. BELL & SONS. LTD.
BROAD-SWORD
AND
SINGLE-STICK.
WITH CHAPTERS ON
QUARTER-STAFF, BAYONET, CUDGEL SHILLALAH, WALKING-STICK,
UMBRELLA, AND OTHER WEAPONS OF SELF-DEFENCE.
BY
R. G. ALLANSON-WINN,
AUTHOR OF "BOXING,"
AND
C. PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY,
INNS OF COURT SCHOOL OF ARMS.
LONDON:
G. BELL & SONS, LTD.,
AND NEW YORK.
1911.
PRINTED BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON AND BECCLES.
PREFACE.
The favour with which my little _brochure_ on boxing has been received
induces me to put together a few ideas on the subject of attack and
defence with weapons other than those with which nature has endowed us.
A glance at the table of contents will suffice to show that the scope of
the work has been somewhat extended, and that, though there is of course
a vast deal more to be said on the wide subject of self-defence, an
attempt has been made to give practical hints as to what may be effected
by a proper and prompt use of those common accessories which we may find
in our hands at almost any hour in the day.
Not having leisure to take in hand the whole of the work myself, I asked
my friend Mr. C. Phillipps-Wolley to make himself responsible for that
portion of the treatise which deals with single-stick play. This he
kindly consented to do, and those of my readers who wish to make a
special study of stick-play, I refer to p. 50 to p. 85 inclusive. The
illustrations in this portion of the work are from photographs by the
London Stereoscopic Company; all the other illustrations are from my own
sketches.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. INTRODUCTORY 1
II. THE QUARTER-STAFF 4
III. THE BROAD-SWORD 17
IV. SINGLE-STICK 50
V. THE BAYONET 85
VI. THE CUDGEL, SHILLALAH, WALKING-STICK,
UMBRELLA, AND VARIOUS ACCESSORIES 100
BROAD-SWORD AND SINGLE-STICK.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
Our neighbours on the other side of the English Channel have been
accused of calling us a "nation of shopkeepers." No doubt the definition
is not bad; and, so long as the goods supplied bear the hall-mark of
British integrity, there is nothing to be ashamed of in the appellation;
still, with all due deference, I think we might more appropriately be
called a nation of sportsmen.
There is not an English boy breathing at this moment who does not long
to be at some sport or game, and who has not his pet idea of the channel
into which he will guide his sporting proclivities when he is a man.
There are not many grown Englishmen who don't think they know something
about a horse, would not like to attend a good assault-at-arms, or who
are not pleased when they hear of their sons' prowess with the oar, the
bat, or the gloves.
I may be quite mistaken, but it always seems to me that the
well-brought-up little foreign boy is too unwholesomely good and gentle
to fight the battle of life. Still, such little boys _do_ grow up brave
and clever men, and they _do_, taken collectively, make splendid
soldiers.
Then, as to sports, foreigners seem to put too much pomp and
circumstance into their efforts in pursuit of game; the impedimenta and
general accoutrements are overdone; but here again I may be wrong.
Of one thing we may be quite sure, and that is that the majority of
Englishmen are devoted to sport of _some kind_. One of the prettiest
little compliments you can pay a man is to call him "a good old
sportsman."
When, in addition to the advantages of a national sport or collection of
national sports, such as boxing, sword exercises, wrestling, etc., you
recognize the possibility that the games you have been indulging in with
your friends in playful contests may at almost any moment be utilized
for defeating your enemies and possibly saving your life, you are forced
to the conclusion that there are some sports at least which can be
turned to practical account.
Unfortunately there are individuals, possibly in the small minority, who
regard anything like fighting as brutal or ungentlemanly. In a sense--a
very limited sense--they may be right, for, though our environment is
such that we can never rest in perfect security, it does seem hard that
we should have to be constantly on the alert to protect that which we
think is ours by right, and ours alone.
However this may be, let us be men _first_, and aristocrats, gentlemen,
or anything else you please, _afterwards_. If we are not men, in the
larger and better sense of the word, let there be no talk of gentle
blood or lengthy pedigree. The nation is what it is through the pluck
and energy of individuals who have put their shoulders to the wheel in
bygone days--men who have laid the foundation of a glorious empire by
sturdy personal efforts--efforts, unaided by the state, emanating from
those higher qualities of the character, relying on itself, and on
itself alone, for success or failure.
From the earliest times, and in the most primitive forms of animal life,
physical efforts to obtain the mastery have been incessant.
Whether it is in the brute creation or the human race, this struggle for
existence has always required the exercise of offensive and defensive
powers. The individual has striven to gain his living, and to protect
that living when gained; nations have paid armies to increase their
territories, and retain those territories when acquired.
The exact form of weapon which first came into use will always be
doubtful, but one would think that stones, being hard and handy, as well
as plentiful, might have presented irresistible attractions to, say,
some antediluvian monster, who wished to intimate to a mammoth or
icthyosaurus, a few hundred yards distant, his readiness to engage in
mortal combat.
Are there not stories, too, of clever little apes in tropical forests
who have pelted unwary travellers with nuts, stones, and any missiles
which came handy?
Then, coming nearer home, there is the lady at an Irish fair who hangs
on the outskirts of a faction-fight, ready to do execution with a stone
in her stocking--a terrible gog-magog sort of brain-scatterer.
When man was developed, no doubt one of his first ideas was to get hold
of a really good serviceable stick--not a little modern masher's
crutch--a strong weapon, capable of assisting him in jumping, protecting
him from wild beasts, and knocking down his fellow-man.
To obtain such a stick the primitive man probably had to do a good deal
of hacking at the bough of a hard oak or tough ash, with no better knife
than a bit of sharp flint. Having secured his stick, the next thing was
to keep it, and he doubtless had to defend himself against the assaults
of envious fellow-creatures possessed of inferior sticks.
Thus we can imagine that the birth of quarter-staff play--not much
_play_ about it in those days--was a very simple affair; and we
recognize in it the origin and foundation of all the sword exercises,
and all the games in which single-stick, lance, and bayonet play a
prominent part.
As the question of who picked up the first stone and threw it at his
fellow-man, or when the first branch of a tree was brought down on the
unsuspecting head of another fellow-man, are questions for learned men
to decide, and are of no real importance, I shall not allow myself to go
on with any vague speculations, but shall turn at once to an old English
sport which, though sometimes practised at assaults-at-arms in the
present day, takes us back to Friar Tuck, Robin Hood, and
"Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone,
Scarlet and Much and Little John."
CHAPTER II.
THE QUARTER-STAFF.
According to Chambers's "Encyclopaedia," the quarter-staff was "formerly
a favourite weapon with the English for hand-to-hand encounters." It was
"a stout pole of heavy wood, about six and a half feet long, shod with
iron at both ends. It was grasped in the middle by one hand, and the
attack was made by giving it a rapid circular motion, which brought the
loaded ends on the adversary at unexpected points."
"Circular motion" and "shod with iron" give a nasty ring to this
description, and one pictures to one's self half a barge-pole,
twirled--"more Hibernico"--with giant fingers, bearing down on one.
Whether the fingers of our ancestors were ever strong enough to effect
this single-handed twirling or not must remain a matter of doubt, but we
may rest assured that in the quarter-staff we have, probably, the
earliest form of offensive weapon next to the handy stone. If Darwin is
correct, we can easily imagine one of our gorilla ancestors picking up a
big branch of a tree with which to hit some near member of his family.
This, to my mind, would be playing elementary quarter-staff, and the
game would have advanced a step if the assaulted one--possibly the lady
gorilla--had seized another branch and retaliated therewith.
The modern quarter-staff is supposed to be rather longer than the six
and a half feet prescribed by the above-quoted authority, and I imagine
it originally derived its name from being grasped with one hand at a
quarter of its length from the middle, and with the other hand at the
middle.
Thus, in the diagram (Fig. 1), if A E represents a quarter-staff eight
feet long, divided into four equal two-foot lengths at the points B, C,
and D, the idea would be to grasp it with the right hand at D and with
the left hand at C; or, if the player happened to be left-handed, to
grasp it with the left hand at B and with the right hand at C.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]
This method of holding the quarter-staff may be well enough in certain
cases, but it seems to me that, for rapid attack and defence, the hands
should be about three feet apart: at D and M, half way between B and C;
or at B and N, half way between C and D.
Of course a great deal depends upon the height and strength of the
player, but, with the hands at a distance of three feet or so apart, it
stands to reason you have a greater command over the ends of the staff
than you have if they are only two feet apart, and that you can
consequently come quicker into "hanging guard" positions, and more
easily defend yourself from short upper strokes and from "points" than
you can when you have less command over your weapon.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.--On guard.]
Before proceeding to the more technical portions of quarter-staff play,
let me say that it is better to bar "points" in a friendly bout, for the
weight of a stick, if only a bamboo cane, of eight feet long, is so
great, that it is an easy matter to break a collar-bone or rib with a
rapid thrust. In any case, remember to be well padded and to have a good
iron-wire broad-sword mask on before engaging in a bout.
In dealing with the cuts and thrusts which may be made with the
quarter-staff, we cannot do better than consider the ordinary
broad-sword target.
In the accompanying diagram are marked the ordinary broad-sword cuts 1
to 4, 2 to 3, 3 to 2, 4 to 1, 5 to 6, 6 to 5, and 7 to 0, the centre of
the target.
[Illustration: Fig. 3.]
Now, we observe that the guards for these cuts must be such as to ward
off the blows in the easiest manner and with as rapid return as possible
to the attacking position.
With the quarter-staff in the hands of a right-handed man, the first cut
would be from 2 to 3, and the guard for this would be with the staff
held in the direction of _c_ to _d_. Similarly, for cut two, from 1 to
4, the guard would be from _a_ to _b_.
It must be borne in mind that this second cut, from 1 to 4, is generally
delivered with what I shall call the _butt_ of the staff, _i.e._ with
that end which is nearest the right hand, in the case of a right-handed
man; and that cut one, from 2 to 3, would be delivered with the butt in
the case of a left-handed man.
The two guards above illustrated will _almost_ cover any attack, but
_not quite_.
[Illustration: Fig. 4.--First Hit.]
On examining Fig. 8 it will be seen that the guard for the first cut,
viz. that from 2 to 3 on the target, is indicated by the position of
the staff _cd_ or _c'd'_. The guard _cd_ meets the three cuts 6 to 5, 2
to 3, and 7 to 0, but is not sufficient to protect you against cut 4 to
1.
Similarly the guard _c'd'_ answers the purpose as far as cuts 4 to 1, 6
to 5, and 2 to 3 are concerned, but fails to ward off cut 7 to 0; and
the same remarks apply to the other side of the target, where _ab_ and
_a'b'_ represent the staff.
Of course the two guards in Fig. 5 _may_ be so used as to meet all
requirements, but it is, to my thinking, far preferable to thoroughly
master the four as represented in Fig. 9. So doing will give increased
command over the staff, and will not in any way detract from speed or
general efficiency.
[Illustration: Fig. 5]
It will be observed that in the sketches of guard 1 and guard 2, Figs. 6
and 7, the staff is, in each case, too perpendicular for cut 7 to 0;
they represent the positions of the combatants when using guards _a'b'_
and _c'd'_ in Fig. 8.
I would therefore advise attention to the following diagram, which
includes the guards, four in number, which are really sufficient for all
hits which can be made with the quarter-staff.
The lines intersecting the circumference of the circle show the
inclinations of the staff for guarding all the cuts which can be made.
We now turn to the question of position. In quarter-staff play it is
usual for a right-handed man to stand with his left foot in advance of
the right, as in boxing or bayonet exercise, and with his toe pointing
straight in the direction of his adversary, as in Fig. 2. It is,
however, often very advisable to advance the right foot suddenly to the
front when bringing the butt of the staff to play on the left side of
the enemy's head or body. As regards "points" it is well to lunge out,
as one does when making a left-handed lead-off in boxing, so as to gain
somewhat in the reach.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.--First guard.]
[Illustration: Fig. 7.--Second guard.]
[Illustration: Fig. 8.]
Points, which, as before hinted, should be used with care in friendly
bouts, are generally made with the point of the staff, but may also be
effected with the butt; and this is the case when the combatants have
come to rather close quarters.
At quarter-staff play the men should be started by the Master of
Ceremonies at a distance of ten or twelve feet apart, and when they get
to close quarters, or at rough play, they should be immediately
separated, as this is a game at which feeling is apt to run somewhat
high--occasionally.
Always remember, when guarding points, to do so with that portion of the
staff which lies between your hands. This portion really corresponds
with the "forte" of a sword or stick. If you have learned fencing with
the foils it will be of the greatest possible advantage to you, for you
will then understand how slight an effort brought to bear on the foible
of your opponent's staff--in this case it will be somewhere within two
feet of the end--will suffice to turn aside the most vigorous thrust.
[Illustration: Fig. 9.--Second hit.]
It may not be out of place to add that any man who has gone through any
sort of apprenticeship in fencing--either with foils or
single-sticks--will not fail, when a quarter-staff is put into his
hands, to know what to do with his weapon. He may, at first, feel
awkward, and the length of the staff may hamper him and its weight
fatigue him, but he will, with his knowledge of general principles, very
soon get into the work and enjoy it.
[Illustration: Fig. 10.--Point.]
Though the staves used are often made of light bamboo cane, one may get
very severe hits and <DW8>s, so it is as well, before engaging in an
encounter, to have (_a_) a good mask, such as broad-swordsmen wear;
(_b_) a thick jacket of stout leather, with a high collar; (_c_)
boxing-gloves on both hands; (_d_) a good pad for the middle of the
body, from waist to knee; and (_e_) cricket pads for both legs, which
are apt to come in for nasty jars on or about the knee. Never _on any
account try to dispense with the pads_--they may save you from permanent
injury; and do they not add to your good health by promoting a
beneficial opening of the sweat-glands?
In quarter-staff, as in stick-play, broad-sword exercise, fencing, etc.,
it is better to sink down with the knees bent, for in this position you
present a smaller area for your opponent to strike at than you do when
quite erect.
In leading off it is better to slide the hand which is at M or N (see
Fig. 11) down to the hand which is at D or B; you then gain several feet
of reach added to your lunge out; only be careful to recover quickly,
and get the hand you have thus moved back to its former position.
Advancing and retreating are effected much in the same way as in bayonet
exercise; viz. for the advance, move the left foot swiftly forward in
the direction of your opponent for a distance of, say, eighteen inches
or two feet, following this up with the right foot _for the same
distance_, so that the same relative positions are maintained; for the
retreat, move the right foot back the required distance and follow up
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APPLICATIONS***
E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Keith Edkins, and the Online
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Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
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Transcriber's note:
Page numbers enclosed by curly braces (example: {25}) have been
incorporated to facilitate the use of the Table of Contents.
In chemical formulas an underscore is used to indicate that
the following number enclosed by curly braces is a subscript.
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braces indicate an exponent. For example, ten raised to the
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A few typographical errors have been corrected and are listed
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THE PHASE RULE AND ITS APPLICATIONS
by
ALEX. FINDLAY, M.A., PH.D., D.SC.
* * * * *
TEXT-BOOKS OF PHYSICAL CHEMISTRY.
EDITED BY SIR WILLIAM RAMSAY, K.C.B., F.R.S., D.SC.
* * * * *
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in the University of Dublin; together with an INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY
OF PHYSICAL CHEMISTRY by Sir WILLIAM RAMSAY, K.C.B., F.R.S., Editor of
the Series. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF PHYSICAL CHEMISTRY. Being a General
Introduction to the Series by Sir WILLIAM RAMSAY, K.C.B., F.R.S., D.Sc.
Crown 8vo. 1s. net.
CHEMICAL STATICS AND DYNAMICS, including THE THEORIES OF CHEMICAL
CHANGE, CATALYSIS AND EXPLOSIONS. BY J. W. MELLOR, D.Sc. (N.Z.), B.Sc.
(Vict.) Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
THE PHASE RULE AND ITS APPLICATIONS. By ALEX. FINDLAY, M.A., Ph.D.,
D.Sc., Lecturer and Demonstrator in Chemistry, University of
Birmingham. With 134 Figures in the Text. Crown 8vo. 5s.
SPECTROSCOPY. By E. C. C. BALY, F.I.C., Lecturer on Spectroscopy and
Assistant Professor of Chemistry, University College, London. With 163
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the University of Copenhagen. Translated by KATHARINE A. BURKE, B.Sc.
(Lond.), Assistant in the Department of Chemistry, University College,
London. Crown 8vo. 9s.
ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY. PART I.--GENERAL THEORY. By R. A. LEHFELDT, D.Sc.,
Professor of Physics at the East London Technical College. Including a
Chapter on the Relation of Chemical Constitution to Conductivity, by T.
S. MOORE, B.A., B.Sc., Lecturer in the University of Birmingham. Crown
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[_In the press._
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Lecturer on Stereochemistry in University College, London. With 87
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SAMUEL SMILES, D.Sc.
[_In preparation._
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[_In preparation._
ACTINOCHEMISTRY. By C. E. K. MEES, D.Sc., and S. E. SHEPPARD, D.Sc.
[_In preparation._
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[_In preparation._
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
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*
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The Sowdone of Babylone.
Early English Text Society.
Extra Series. No. XXXVIII.
1881.
BERLIN: ASHER & CO., 13, UNTER DEN LINDEN.
NEW YORK: C. SCRIBNER & CO.; LEYPOLDT & HOLT.
PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
THE
ENGLISH CHARLEMAGNE ROMANCES.
PART V.
The Romaunce of
The Sowdone of Babylone
and of
Ferumbras his Sone who conquerede Rome.
RE-EDITED
FROM THE UNIQUE MS. OF THE LATE SIR THOMAS PHILLIPPS,
with Introduction, Notes, and Glossary,
BY
EMIL HAUSKNECHT, PH. D.
LONDON:
PUBLISHED FOR THE EARLY ENGLISH TEXT SOCIETY
BY KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRÜBNER & Co.,
PATERNOSTER HOUSE, CHARING-CROSS ROAD, W.C.
MDCCCLXXXI.
[«Reprinted 1891, 1898.»]
Extra Series,
XXXVIII.
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON & BUNGAY.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION … v
Popularity of the Carlovingian Romances … v
Popularity of the Ferumbras Poem … vi
The Provençal Ferabras … ix
The Fierabras Poem an Enlarged and Recast Portion of the Old Balan
Romance … xi
The Poem of the Destruction de Rome … xiii
MSS. of the French Fierabras … xv
The English Sir Ferumbras, its Source, etc. … xvi
The Poem of the Sowdan of Babylon, its Sources, its Differences
from the Original Balan Romance and from the Ashmolean Ferumbras …
xxii
Dialect of the Sowdan … xxxiv
Metre and Rhymes of the Sowdan … xl
Date and Author of the Sowdan … xlv
MS. of the Sowdan … xlvii
Roxburghe Club Edition of the Sowdan … xlviii
ADDITIONS … xlix
The Hanover MS. of the French Fierabras Compared With the Sowdan …
xlix
The Hanover Version Compared With Sir Ferumbras … lii
SKETCH OF THE STORY … liv
THE ROMAUNCE OF THE SOWDONE OF BABYLONE AND OF FERUMBRAS HIS SONE
WHO CONQUEREDE ROME … 1
NOTES … 95
GLOSSARIAL INDEX … 133
INDEX OF NAMES … 141
[p-v]
INTRODUCTION.
The exploits of Charles the Great, who by his achievements as conqueror
and legislator, as reformer of learning and missionary, so deeply
changed the face of Western Europe, who during a reign of nearly half
a century maintained, by his armies, the authority of his powerful
sceptre, from the southern countries of Spain and Italy to the more
northern regions of Denmark, Poland, and Hungary, must have made a
profound and unalterable impression in the minds of his contemporaries,
so that for centuries afterwards they continued to live in the memory
of the people. Evidence of this high pitch of popularity is given
by the numerous «chansons de geste» or romances, which celebrate
the deeds, or are connected with the name, of the great and valiant
champion of Christendom.
It is true that the sublime figure of Charlemagne, who with his
imaginary twelve peers perpetually warred against all heathenish
or Saracen people, in the romances of a later period, has been
considerably divested of that nimbus of majestic grandeur, which the
composers of the earlier poems take pains to diffuse around him.
Whereas, in the latter, the person of the Emperor appears adorned with
high corporeal, intellectual, and warlike gifts, and possessed of all
royal qualities; the former show us the splendour of Royalty tarnished
and debased, and the power of the feodal vassals enlarged to the
prejudice of the royal authority. Roland, in speaking of Charlemagne,
says, in the «Chanson de Roland», l. 376:—
“Jamais n’iert hum qui encuntre lui vaillet,”
and again the same Roland says of the Emperor, in «Guy de Bourgoyne»,
l. 1061:
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Transcriber's note: Table of Contents created by Transcriber and placed
into the Public Domain.
CONTENTS
Preface 3
The Country and Its Resources 5
The Gold Region 24
Advice to the Miner 33
Towns of California, and What Relates to Them 49
The Harbor of San Francisco 55
Directions for Entering the Harbor of San Francisco 55
Regulations for the Harbor and Port of San Francisco 56
The Towns of California (_continued_) 57
Errata 61
CALIFORNIA
AS IT IS, AND AS IT MAY BE,
OR,
A GUIDE TO THE GOLD REGION.
BY F. P. WIERZBICKI, M. D.
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA.
FIRST EDITION.
**
SAN FRANCISCO:
PRINTED BY WASHINGTON BARTLETT,
NO. 8, CLAY STREET.
1849.
COPY RIGHT SECURED.
PREFACE.
The residence of several years in the country together with his
familiarity with its whole extent, not excluding the Gold Region in
which he passed more than four months rambling over its mountains,
and even crossing the Sierra Nevada to the verge of the great Western
Desert, give the writer of these pages a degree of confidence in the
belief that by presenting this work to the public, notwithstanding the
numerous books that have already appeared upon the subject, he supplies
the desideratum so much needed at this moment, and renders justice to
California that of late suffered a little in her reputation by the
indiscretion of some of her friends.
THE AUTHOR.
SAN FRANCISCO, SEPT. 30, 1849.
CALIFORNIA.
THE COUNTRY AND ITS RESOURCES.
The country lying between the _Sierra Nevada_ and the Pacific Ocean,
and bounded at the north, though somewhat indefinitely, by the Oregon
Territory, and at the South by the Lower California, confined by
the late treaty of the two neighboring Republics to the line three
miles south of San Diego, is known as Upper California, a country
now engrossing the attention of the civilized world with its future
importance. There is no other instance known in history where a country
just emerging so to say, from obscurity, immediately acquired such
complicated and multifarious relations, not only to the nation of whose
territory it is only a small portion, but to the whole civilized world,
as California has. In view of these various relations, we propose here
to consider the subject of Upper California.
Before California can answer all those expectations, the realization of
which the world with good reason looks for, an increase of population
must be secured for her. To effect which it will not be very difficult,
if to its natural advantages, the government of the Union will add its
efforts to promote by every legislative and administrative measure the
influx of new settlers. But in all its proceedings, liberality should
be its motto, and none of that miserly policy that is afraid of losing
an acre from its lands or a dollar from its treasury.
California holds in its bosom resources that no other country can
boast of comprised in so small a territory--its mineral wealth, its
agricultural capacity, its geographical position, conspire to make it
in time one of the most favored lands. And it will lie in the power of
the government either to accelerate or <DW44> the unfolding of its
future importance. When considered in point of mineral productions,
if allowed to be developed by capitalists, California is capable of
becoming an important centre of the commerce of the Pacific. Here
we find in the neighborhood of the Clear Lake, about a hundred and
twenty-five miles north of Sonoma, Lead, Copper, Sulpher and Saltpetre;
on the South side of San Francisco Bay, Silver-mines have been found
in the vicinity of Pueblo de San Jose; Quicksilver mines which are
pronounced to be richer than those of Spain, are already being worked
to a great profit in the same region; Coal strata have been also found
in the coast range of mountains near Santa Cruz, in the neighborhood
of the Mission of San Luis Obispo, and near San Diego. California Coal
seems to be in the intermediate state between the anthracite and the
bituminous; it is not as hard as the former
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VENOMS
VENOMOUS ANIMALS
AND ANTIVENOMOUS
SERUM-THERAPEUTICS
BY
A. CALMETTE, M.D.
Corresponding Member of the French Institute and of the Academy
of Medicine, Director of the Pasteur Institute, Lille
TRANSLATED BY ERNEST E. AUSTEN, F.Z.S.
NEW YORK
WILLIAM WOOD AND COMPANY
MDCCCCVIII
PREFACE TO ENGLISH EDITION.
Mr. E. E. Austen, of the British Museum, has been good enough to
undertake the translation of my book on “Venoms.” For the presentation
of my work to the scientific public in an English dress I could not
have hoped to find a more faithful interpreter. To him I express my
liveliest gratitude for the trouble that he has so kindly taken, and
I thank Messrs. John Bale, Sons and Danielsson for the care they have
bestowed upon the preparation of this edition.
A. CALMETTE, M.D.
_Institut Pasteur de Lille,
June 17, 1908._
INTRODUCTION TO FRENCH EDITION.
In the month of October, 1891, during the rains, a village in the
vicinity of Bac-Lieu, in Lower Cochin-China, was invaded by a swarm of
poisonous snakes belonging to the species known as _Naja tripudians_,
or Cobra-di-Capello. These creatures, which were forced by the deluge
to enter the native huts, bit four persons, who succumbed in a few
hours. An Annamese, a professional snake-charmer in the district,
succeeded in catching nineteen of these cobras and shutting them up
alive in a barrel. M. Séville, the administrator of the district,
thereupon conceived the idea of forwarding the snakes to the newly
established Pasteur Institute at Saigon, to which I had been appointed
as director.
At this period our knowledge of the physiological action of venoms was
extremely limited. A few of their properties alone had been brought
to light by the works of Weir Mitchell and Reichard in America, of
Wall and Armstrong in India and England, of A. Gautier and Kaufmann in
France, and especially by Sir Joseph Fayrer’s splendidly illustrated
volume (“The Thanatophidia of India”), published in London in 1872.
An excellent opportunity was thus afforded to me of taking up a study
which appeared to possess considerable interest on the morrow of the
discoveries of E. Roux and Behring, with reference to the toxins of
diphtheria and tetanus, and I could not allow the chance to escape.
For the last fifteen years I have been occupied continuously with
this subject, and I have published, or caused to be published by my
students, in French, English, or German scientific journals, a fairly
large number of memoirs either on venoms and the divers venomous
animals, or on antivenomous serum-therapeutics. The collation of these
papers is now becoming a matter of some difficulty, and it appeared to
me that the time had arrived for the production of a monograph, which
may, I hope, be of some service to all who are engaged in biological
research.
* * * * *
_Antivenomous serum-therapy_, which my studies, supplemented by those
of Phisalix and Bertrand, Fraser, George Lamb, F. Tidswell, McFarland,
and Vital Brazil, have enabled me to establish upon scientific bases,
has now entered into current medical practice. In each of the countries
in which venomous bites represent an important cause of mortality in
the case of human beings and domestic animals, special laboratories
have been officially organised for the preparation of antivenomous
serum. All that remains to be done is to teach its use to those who are
ignorant of it, especially to the indigenous inhabitants of tropical
countries, where snakes are more especially formidable and deadly.
This book will not reach such people as these, but the medical men,
naturalists, travellers, and explorers to whom it is addressed will
know how to popularise and apply the information that it will give
them.
I firmly believe also that physiologists will read the book with
profit. Its perusal will perhaps suggest to them the task of
investigating a host of questions, which are still obscure, relating
to toxins, their mode of action upon the different organisms, and
their relations to the antitoxins. There is no doubt that in the study
of venoms a multitude of workers will, for a long time to come, find
material for the exercise of their powers of research
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MEMOIRS OF GENERAL W. T. SHERMAN
By William T. Sherman
GENERAL W. T. SHERMAN
HIS COMRADES IN ARMS,
VOLUNTEERS AND REGULARS.
Nearly ten years have passed since the close of the civil war in
America, and yet no satisfactory history thereof is accessible to
the public; nor should any be attempted until the Government has
published, and placed within the reach of students, the abundant
materials that are buried in the War Department at Washington.
These are in process of compilation; but, at the rate of progress
for the past ten years, it is probable that a new century will come
before they are published and circulated, with full indexes to
enable the historian to make a judicious selection of materials.
What is now offered is not designed as a history of the war, or
even as a complete account of all the incidents in
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UNIFORM WITH
JOHN DOUGH AND THE CHERUB
THE LAND OF OZ
BY L. FRANK BAUM
_Elaborately illustrated--in colors_
_and black-and-white by_
_JOHN R. NEILL_
John Dough and the Cherub
_by_
L. Frank Baum
AUTHOR OF
THE WIZARD OF OZ
THE LAND OF OZ
THE WOGGLE-BUG BOOK
FATHER GOOSE
QUEEN ZIXI OF IX
THE ENCHANTED ISLAND OF YEW, ETC.
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED BY
John R. Neill
CHICAGO
THE REILLY & BRITTON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
[Illustration]
COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY
L. FRANK BAUM
All Rights
Reserved
[Illustration]
To my young friend
John Randolph Reilly
this book is
affectionately dedicated
L.F.B
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
LIST OF CHAPTERS
THE GREAT ELIXIR 9
THE TWO FLASKS 11
THE GINGERBREAD MAN 27
JOHN DOUGH BEGINS HIS ADVENTURES 41
CHICK, THE CHERUB 59
THE FREAKS OF PHREEX 104
THE LADY EXECUTIONER 121
THE PALACE OF ROMANCE 140
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Alvira: The Heroine of Vesuvius
by
Rev. A. J. O'Reilly, D.D.
Introduction
The Penitent Saints
The interesting and instructive character of this sensational narrative,
which we cull from the traditions of a past generation, must cover
the shortcomings of the pen that has labored to present it in an
English dress.
We are aware that the propriety of drawing from the oblivion of
forgotten literature such a story will be questioned. The decay of
the chivalrous spirit of the middle ages, and the prudish, puritanical
code of morality that has superseded the simple manners of our
forefathers, render it hazardous to cast into the hands of the present
generation the thrilling records of sin and repentance such as they
were seen and recorded in days gone by. Yet in the midst of a
literature professedly false, and which paints in fascinating colors
the various phases of unrepented vice and crime, without the redeeming
shadows of honor and Christian morality, our little volume must fall
a welcome sunbeam. The strange career of our heroine constitutes a
sensational biography charming and beautiful in the moral it presents.
The evils of mixed marriages, of secret societies, of intemperance,
and the indulgence of self-love in ardent and enthusiastic youth, find
here the record of their fatal influence on social life, reflected
through the medium of historical facts. Therefore we present to the
young a chapter of warning--a tale of the past with a deep moral for
the present.
The circumstances of our tale are extraordinary. A young girl dresses
in male attire, murders her father, becomes an officer in the army,
goes through the horrors of battle, and dies a SAINT.
Truly we have here matter sensational enough for the most exacting
novelist; but we disclaim all effort to play upon the passions, or
add another work of fiction to the mass of irreligious trash so powerful
in the employ of the evil one for the seduction of youth. In the
varied scenes of life there are many actions influenced by secret
motives known only to the heart that harbors them. Not all are
dishonorable. It takes a great deal of guilt to make a person as black
as he is painted by his enemies. Many a brave heart has, under the
garb of an impropriety, accomplished heroic acts of self-denial.
History is teeming with instances where the love of creatures, and even
the holier and more sublime love of the Creator, have, in moments of
enthusiasm, induced tender females to forget the weakness of their
sex and successfully fulfil the spheres of manhood. These scenes, so
censurable, are extraordinary more from the rarity of their occurrence
than from the motives that inspire them, and thus our tale draws much
of its thrilling interest from the unique character of its details.
"But what a saint!" we fancy we hear whispered by the fastidious and
scrupulous into whose hand our little work may fall.
Inadvertently the thought will find a similar expression from the
superficial reader; but if we consider a little, our heroine presents
a career not more extraordinary than those that excite our surprise
in the lives of the penitent saints venerated on the alters of the
Church. Sanctity is not to be judged by antecedents. The soul
crimsoned with guilt may, in the crucible of repentance, become white
like the crystal snow before it touches the earth. This consoling
thought is not a mere assertion, but a matter of faith confirmed by
fact. There are as great names among the penitent saints of the
Church as amongst the few brilliant stars whose baptismal innocence
was never dimmed by any cloud.
Advance the rule that the early excesses of the penitent stains must
debar them from the esteem their heroic repentance has won; then we
must tear to pieces the consoling volumes of hagiology, we must drag
down Paul, Peter, Augustine, Jerome, Magdalen, and a host of illustrious
penitents from their thrones amongst the galaxy of the elect, and cast
the thrilling records of their repentance into the oblivion their early
career would seem to merit. If we are to have no saints but those of
whom it is testified they never did a wrong act, then the catalogue
of sanctity will be reduced to baptized infants who died before coming
to the use of reason, and a few favored adults who could be counted
on the fingers.
Is it not rather the spirit and practice of the Church to propose to
her erring children the heroic example of souls who passed through the
storms and trials of life, who had the same weaknesses to contend with,
the same enemies to combat, as they have, whose triumph is her glory
and her crown? The Catholic Church, which has so successfully promoted
the civilization of society and the moral regeneration of nations,
achieved her triumph by the conversion of those she first drew from
darkness. Placed as lights on the rocks of eternity, and shining on
us who are yet tossed about on
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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
A superscript is denoted by ^x, for example S^t (Street).
Some minor changes are noted at the end of the book.
HISTORICAL RECORD
OF
THE FORTY-SIXTH,
OR
THE SOUTH DEVONSHIRE,
REGIMENT OF FOOT:
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THE FORMATION OF THE REGIMENT
IN 1741
AND OF ITS SUBSEQUENT SERVICES
TO 1851.
COMPILED BY
RICHARD CANNON, ESQ.,
ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE, HORSE GUARDS.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PLATES.
LONDON:
PARKER, FURNIVALL, & PARKER,
30, CHARING CROSS.
M DCCC LI.
LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,
FOR HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE.
GENERAL ORDERS.
_HORSE-GUARDS_,
_1st January, 1836._
His Majesty has been pleased to command that, with the view of
doing the fullest justice to Regiments, as well as to Individuals
who have distinguished themselves by their Bravery in Action with
the Enemy, an Account of the Services of every Regiment in the
British Army shall be published under the superintendence and
direction of the Adjutant-General; and that this Account shall
contain the following particulars, viz.:--
---- The Period and Circ
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[Illustration: Book Cover]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
[Illustration: Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house
opposite]
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
BY
AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN
Author of "The Sapphire Signet," "The
Boarded-Up House," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
C. M. RELYEA
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
Copyright, 1917, by
THE CENTURY CO.
TO
HOA-SIAN-SIN-NIU
(Margaret Gillespie Fagg)
AND TO THE MEMORY OF
HOA-SIAN-SIN
(John Gerardus Fagg, D.D.)
THIS BOOK IS
AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I MARCIA'S SECRET 3
II THE FACE BEHIND THE SHUTTER 20
III THE GATE OPENS 32
IV THE BACKWARD GLANCE 43
V THE HANDKERCHIEF IN THE WINDOW 54
VI CECILY REVEALS HERSELF 62
VII SURPRISES ALL AROUND 72
VIII AT THE END OF THE STRING 81
IX FOR THE SAKE OF CECILY 94
X THE FILIGREE BRACELET 111
XI THE LIFTED VEIL 119
XII MISS BENEDICT SPEAKS 129
XIII VIA WIRELESS 141
XIV THE WRITING ON THE BRACELETS 149
XV PUZZLING IT OUT 160
XVI ONE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 170
XVII MAJOR GOODRICH ASSISTS 183
XVIII THE MAJOR HAS A FURTHER INSPIRATION 192
XIX THE UNEXPECTED 206
XX AUNT MINERVA TAKES COMMAND 227
XXI SIX MONTHS LATER 251
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Marcia turned to stare out of the window at the house
opposite _Frontispiece_
Cecily Marlowe passed them by without a look 49
They heard Cecily's light footsteps 83
"I'm going to ask Miss Benedict if we can't open these
shutters," cried Janet, suddenly 105
In the sudden light of the open door she stood revealed 125
"Words on two bracelets are identical," replied Lee Ching,
precisely 157
"Child, I suppose you wonder very much at this queer life
I lead" 171
"Sydney must have come in again; I hear him practising!" 257
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
CHAPTER I
MARCIA'S SECRET
"Marcia Brett, do you mean to tell me--"
"Tell you--what?"
"That you've had a secret two whole months and never told me about it
yet? And I'm your _best_ friend!"
"I was waiting till you came to the city, Janet. I wanted to _tell_ you;
I didn't want to _write_ it."
"Well, I've been in the city twelve hours, and you never said a word
about it till just now."
"But, Janet, we've been sight-seeing ever since you arrived. You can't
very well tell secrets when you're sight-seeing, you know!"
"Well, you might have given me a hint about it long ago. You know we've
solemnly promised never to have any secrets from each other, and yet
you've had one _two whole months_?"
"No, Jan, I haven't had it quite as long as that. Honest! It didn't
begin till quite a while after I came; in fact, not till about three or
four weeks ago."
"Tell me all about it right away, then, and perhaps I'll forgive you!"
The two girls cuddled up close to each other on the low couch by the
open window and lowered their voices to a whisper. Through the warm
darkness of the June night came the hum of a great city, a subdued,
murmurous sound, strangely unfamiliar to one of the girls, who was in
the city for the first time in all her country life. To the other the
sound had some time since become an accustomed one. As they leaned their
elbows on the sill and, chins in hand, stared out into the darkness,
Marcia began:
"Well, Jan, I might as well commence at the beginning, so you'll
understand how it all happened. I've been just crazy to tell you, but
I'm not good at letter-writing, and there's such a lot to explain that I
thought I'd wait till your visit.
"You know, when we first moved to this apartment, last April, from 'way
back in Northam, I was all excitement for a while just to be living in
the city. Everything was _so_ different. Really, I acted so _silly_--you
wouldn't believe it! I used to run down to the front door half a dozen
times a day, just to push the bell and see the door open all by itself!
It seemed like something in a fairy-story. And for the longest while I
couldn't get used to the dumb-waiter or the steam-heat or the electric
lights, and all that sort of thing. It _is_ awfully different from our
old-fashioned little Northam--now isn't it?"
"Yes, I feel just that way this minute," admitted Janet.
"And then, too," went on Marcia, "there were all the things outside to
do and see--the trolleys and stores and parks and museums and the zoo!
Aunt Minerva said I went around 'like a distracted chicken' for a while!
And beside that, we used to have the greatest fun shopping for new
furniture and things for this apartment. Hardly a bit of that big old
furniture we brought with us would fit into it, these rooms are so much
smaller than the ones in our old farm-house.
"Well, anyhow, for a while I was too busy and interested and excited to
think of another thing--"
"Yes, too busy to even write to _me_!" interrupted Janet. "I had about
one letter in two weeks from you, those days. And you'd _promised_ to
write every other day!"
"Oh well, never mind that now! You'd have done the same, I guess. If you
don't let me go on, I'll never get to the _secret_! After a while,
though, I got used to all the new things, and I'd seen all the sights,
and Aunt Minerva had finished all the furnishing except the curtains and
draperies (she's at that, yet!), and all of a sudden everything fell
flat. I hadn't begun my music-lessons, and there didn't seem to be a
thing to do, or a single interest in life.
"The truth is, Jan, I was frightfully lonesome--for _you_!" Here Marcia
felt her hand squeezed in the darkness. "Perhaps you don't realize it,
but living in an apartment in a big city is the _queerest_ thing! You
don't know your neighbor that lives right across the hall. You don't
know a soul in the house. And as far as I can see, you're not likely to
if you lived here fifty years! Nobody calls on you as they do on a new
family in the country. Nobody seems to care a rap who you are, or
whether you live or die, or anything. And would you believe it, Janet,
there isn't another girl in this whole apartment, either older or
younger than myself! No one but grown-ups.
"So you can see how awfully lonesome I've been. And as Aunt Minerva had
decided not to send me to high school till fall, I didn't have a chance
to get acquainted with any one of my own age. Actually, it got so I
didn't do much else but moon around and mark off the days till school in
Northam closed and you could come. And, oh, I'm _so_ glad you're here
for the summer! Isn't it gorgeous!" She hugged her chum spasmodically.
"But to go on. I'm telling you all this so you can see what led up to my
doing what I did about--the _secret_. It began one awfully rainy
afternoon last month. I'd been for a walk in the wet, just for exercise,
and when
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Internet Archive)
Transcriber’s Notes
Text printed in italics in the source document has been transcribed
_between underscores_, text printed in bold face =between equal
signs=. Small capitals have been transcribed as ALL CAPITALS.
More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text.
ANATOMY OF THE CAT
BY
JACOB REIGHARD
_Professor of Zoology in the University of Michigan_
AND
H. S. JENNINGS
_Instructor in Zoology in the University of Michigan_
WITH
_ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-THREE ORIGINAL FIGURES_
DRAWN BY
LOUISE BURRIDGE JENNINGS
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1901
ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK.
PREFACE.
Although the cat has long been in common use for the practical study of
mammalian anatomy, a clear, correct, not too voluminous account of its
structure, such as should be in the hands of students in the laboratory,
has remained a desideratum. A number of works have been published on the
cat, some of them of much value, yet there is none which fulfils exactly
the conditions mentioned. The books which have appeared on this subject
are the following:
1. Strauss-Durckheim, H. Anatomie descriptive et comparative du Chat. 2
vols. Paris, 1845.
2. Mivart, St. George. The Cat: an Introduction to the Study of
Back-boned Animals, especially Mammals. New York, 1881.
3. Wilder, Burt G., and Gage, Simon H. Anatomical Technology as applied
to the Domestic Cat. New York, 1882.
4. Gorham, F. P., and Tower, R. W. A Laboratory Guide for the Dissection
of the Cat. New York, 1895.
5. Jayne, H. Mammalian Anatomy. Vol. I. Philadelphia, 1898.
The first of these works treats only of the muscles and bones, and is
not available for American students. Its excellent plates (or Williams’s
outline reproductions of the same) should be in every laboratory.
The second book named is written in such general terms that its
descriptions are not readily applicable to the actual structures found
in the dissection of the cat, and experience has shown that it is not
fitted for a laboratory handbook. It contains, in addition to a general
account of the anatomy of the cat, also a discussion of its embryology,
psychology, palæontology, and classification.
The book by Wilder and Gage professedly uses the cat as a means of
illustrating technical methods and a special system of nomenclature.
While of much value in many ways, it does not undertake to give a
complete account of the anatomy of the animal.
The fourth work is a brief laboratory guide.
The elaborate treatise by Jayne, now in course of publication, is a
monumental work, which will be invaluable for reference, but is too
voluminous to place in the hands of students. At present only the volume
on the bones has been published.
As appears from the above brief characterization, none of these books
gives a complete description of the anatomy of the cat in moderate
volume and without extraneous matter. This is what the present work aims
to do.
In the year 1891-92, Professor Reighard prepared a partial account of
the anatomy of the cat, which has since been in use, in typewritten
form, in University of Michigan classes. It has been used also at the
Universities of Illinois, Nebraska, and West Virginia, and in Dartmouth
College, and has proven so useful for college work in Mammalian Anatomy
that it was decided to complete it and prepare it for publication. This
has been done by Dr. Jennings.
The figures, which are throughout original, are direct reproductions of
ink drawings, made under the direction of Dr. Jennings by Mrs. Jennings.
The book is limited to a description of the normal anatomy of the cat.
The direct linear action of each muscle taken alone has been given in
the description of muscles; other matters belonging to the realm of
physiology, as well as all histological matter, have been excluded. It
was felt that the monumental work of Jayne on the anatomy of the cat,
now in course of publication, forms the best repository for a
description of variations and abnormalities, so that these have been
mentioned in the present volume only when they are so frequent as to be
of much practical importance.
Except where the contrary is stated, the descriptions are based
throughout on our own dissections and
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THE SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER:
DEVOTED TO EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS.
Au gré de nos desirs bien plus qu'au gré des vents.
_Crebillon's Electre_.
As _we_ will, and not as the winds will.
RICHMOND:
T. W. WHITE, PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
1834-5.
SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
VOL. I.] RICHMOND, AUGUST, 1834. [NO. 1.
T. W. WHITE, PRINTER AND PROPRIETOR. FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
PUBLISHER'S NOTICE.
In issuing the first number of the "SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER," the
publisher hopes to be excused for inserting a few passages from the
letters of several eminent literary men which he has had the pleasure
to receive, approving in very flattering terms, his proposed
publication. Whilst the sentiments contained in these extracts
illustrate the generous and enlightened spirit of their authors, they
ought to stimulate the pride and genius of the south, and awaken from
its long slumber the literary exertion of this portion of our country.
The publisher confidently believes that such will be the effect. From
the smiles of encouragement, and the liberal promises of support
received from various quarters--which he takes this opportunity of
acknowledging,--he is strongly imboldened to persevere, and devote his
own humble labors to so good a cause. He is authorised to expect a
speedy arrangement either with a competent editor or with regular
contributors to his work,--but, in the mean time, respectfully solicits
public patronage, as the only effectual means of ensuring complete
success.
FROM WASHINGTON IRVING.
"Your literary enterprise has
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THE ROLL-CALL
BY
ARNOLD BENNETT
THIRD EDITION
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
NOVELS
A Man from the North
Anna of the Five Towns
Leonora
A Great Man
Sacred and Profane Love
Whom God hath Joined
Buried Alive
The Old Wives' Tale
The Glimpse
Helen with the High Hand
Clayhanger
Hilda Lessways
These Twain
The Card
The Regent
The Price of Love
The Lion's Share
The Pretty Lady
FANTASIAS
The Ghost
The Grand Babylon Hotel
The Gates of Wrath
Teresa of Watling Street
The Loot of Cities
The City of Pleasure
SHORT STORIES
Tales of the Five Towns
The Grim Smile of the Five Towns
The Matador of the Five Towns
BELLES-LETTRES
Journalism for Women
Fame and Fiction
How to become an Author
The Truth about an Author
How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day
Mental Efficiency
The Human Machine
Literary Taste
Those United States
Paris Nights
Friendship and Happiness
Married Life
Liberty
Over There
The Author's Craft
Books and Persons
Self and Self-Management
DRAMA
Polite Farces
Cupid and Common Sense
What the Public Wants
The Honeymoon
The Great Adventure
The Title
Judith
Milestones (in collaboration with EDWARD KNOBLOCK)
(In collaboration with EDEN PHILLPOTTS)
The Sinews of War: A Romance
The Statue: A Romance
THE ROLL-CALL
BY
ARNOLD BENNETT
THIRD EDITION
_LONDON: HUTCHINSON & CO.
PATERNOSTER ROW_
NOTE
This novel was written before "The Pretty Lady", and is the first of the
author's war-novels.
A.B.
CONTENTS
PART I
CHAP.
I. THE NEW LODGING
II. MARGUERITE
III. THE CHARWOMAN
IV. THE LUNCHEON
V. THE TEA
VI. THE DINNER
VII. THE RUPTURE
VIII. INSPIRATION
IX. COMPETITION
PART II
I. THE TRIUMPH
II. THE ROLL-CALL
III. IN THE MACHINE
THE ROLL-CALL
PART I
CHAPTER I
THE NEW LODGING
I
In the pupils' room of the offices of Lucas & Enwright, architects,
Russell Square, Bloomsbury, George Edwin Cannon, an articled pupil,
leaned over a large drawing-board and looked up at Mr. Enwright, the
head of the firm, who with cigarette and stick was on his way out after
what he called a good day's work. It was past six o'clock on an evening
in early July 1901. To George's right was an open door leading to the
principals' room, and to his left another open door leading to more
rooms and to the staircase. The lofty chambers were full of lassitude;
but round about George, who was working late, there floated the tonic
vapour of conscious virtue. Haim, the factotum, could be seen and heard
moving in his cubicle which guarded the offices from the stairs. In the
rooms shortly to be deserted and locked up, and in the decline of the
day, the three men were drawn together like survivors.
"I gather you're going to change your abode," said Mr. Enwright, having
stopped.
"Did Mr. Orgreave tell you, then?" George asked.
"Well, he didn't exactly tell me...."
John Orgreave was Mr. Enwright's junior partner; and for nearly two
years, since his advent in London from the Five Towns, George had lived
with Mr. and Mrs. Orgreave at Bedford Park. The Orgreaves, too, sprang
from the Five Towns. John's people and George's people were closely
entwined in the local annals.
Pupil and principal glanced discreetly at one another, exchanging in
silence vague, malicious, unutterable critical verdicts upon both John
Orgreave and his wife.
"Well, I am!" said George at length.
"Where are you going to?"
"Haven't settled a bit," said George. "I wish I could live in Paris."
"Paris wouldn't be much good to you yet," Mr. Enwright laughed
benevolently.
"I suppose it wouldn't. Besides, of course----"
George spoke in a tone of candid deferential acceptance, which flattered
Mr. Enwright very much, for it was the final proof of the prestige which
the grizzled and wrinkled and peculiar Fellow and Member of the Council
of the Royal Institute of British Architects had acquired in the
estimation of that extremely independent, tossing sprig, George Edwin
Cannon. Mr. Enwright had recently been paying a visit to Paris, and
George had been sitting for the Intermediate Examination. "You can join
me here for a few days after the exam., if you care to," Mr. Enwright
had sent over. It was George's introduction to the Continent, and the
circumstances of it were almost ideal. For a week the deeply experienced
connoisseur of all the arts had had the fine, eager, responsive virgin
mind in his power. Day after day he had watched and guided it amid
entirely new sensations. Never had Mr. Enwright enjoyed himself more
purely, and at the close he knew with satisfaction that he had put Paris
in a proper perspective for George, and perhaps saved the youth from
years of groping misapprehension. As for George, all his preconceived
notions about Paris had been destroyed or shaken. In the quadrangles of
the Louvre, for example, Mr. Enwright, pointing to the under part of the
stone bench that foots so much of the walls, had said: "Look at that
curve." Nothing else. No ecstasies about the sculptures of Jean Goujon
and Carpeaux, or about the marvellous harmony of the East facade! But a
flick of the cane towards the half-hidden moulding! And George had felt
with a thrill what an exquisite curve and what an original curve and
what a modest curve that curve was. Suddenly and magically his eyes had
been opened. Or it might have been that a deceitful mist had rolled away
and the real Louvre been revealed in its esoteric and sole authentic
beauty....
"Why don't you try Chelsea?" said Mr. Enwright over his shoulder,
proceeding towards the stairs.
"I was thinking of Chelsea."
"You were!" Mr. Enwright halted again for an instant. "It's the only
place in London where the structure of society is anything like Paris.
Why, dash it, in the King's Road the grocers know each other's
business!" Mr. Enwright made the last strange remark to the outer door,
and vanished.
"Funny cove!" George commented tolerantly to Mr. Haim, who passed
through the room immediately afterwards to his nightly task of
collecting and inspecting the scattered instruments on the principal's
august drawing-board.
But Mr. Haim, though possibly he smiled ever so little, would not
compromise himself by an endorsement of the criticism of his employer.
George was a mere incident in the eternal career of Mr. Haim at Lucas &
Enwright's.
When the factotum came back into the pupils' room, George stood up
straight and smoothed his trousers and gazed admiringly at his elegant
bright socks.
"Let me see," said George in a very friendly manner. "_You_ live
somewhere in Chelsea, don't you?"
"Yes," answered Mr. Haim.
"Whereabouts, if it isn't a rude question?"
"Well," said Mr. Haim, confidentially and benignantly, captivated by
George's youthful charm, "it's near the Redcliffe Arms." He mentioned
the Redcliffe Arms as he might have mentioned the Bank, Piccadilly
Circus, or Gibraltar. "Alexandra Grove. No. 8. To tell you the truth, I
own the house."
"The deuce you do!"
"Yes. The leasehold, that is, of course. No freeholds knocking about
loose in that district!"
George saw a new and unsuspected Mr. Haim. He was impressed. And he was
glad that he had never broken the office tradition of treating Mr. Haim
with a respect not usually accorded to factotums. He saw a
property-owner, a tax-payer, and a human being behind the spectacles of
the shuffling, rather shabby, ceremonious familiar that pervaded those
rooms daily from before ten till after six. He grew curious about a
living phenomenon that hitherto had never awakened his curiosity.
"Were you really looking for accommodation?" demanded Mr. Haim suavely.
George hesitated. "Yes."
"Perhaps I have something that might suit you."
Events, disguised as mere words, seemed to George to be pushing him
forward.
"I should like to have a look at it," he said. He had to say it; there
was no alternative.
Mr. Haim raised a hand. "Any evening that happens to be convenient."
"What about to-night, then?"
"Certainly," Mr. Haim agreed. For a moment George apprehended that Mr.
Haim was going to invite him to dinner. But Mr. Haim was not going to
invite him to dinner. "About nine, shall we say?" he suggested, with a
courtliness softer even than usual.
Later, George said that he would lock up the office himself and leave
the key with the housekeeper.
"You can't miss the place," said Mr. Haim on leaving. "It's between the
Workhouse and the Redcliffe."
II
At the corner dominated by the Queen's Elm, which on the great route
from Piccadilly Circus to Putney was a public-house and halt second only
in importance to the Redcliffe Arms, night fell earlier than it ought to
have done, owing to a vast rain-cloud over Chelsea. A few drops
descended, but so warm and so gently that they were not like real rain,
and sentimentalists could not believe that they would wet. People,
arriving mysteriously out of darkness, gathered sparsely on the
pavements, lingered a few moments, and were swallowed by omnibuses that
bore them obscurely away. At intervals an individual got out of an
omnibus and adventured hurriedly forth and was lost in the gloom. The
omnibuses, all white, trotted on an inward curve to the pavement,
stopped while the conductor, with hand raised to the bell-string,
murmured apathetically the names of streets and of public-houses, and
then they jerked off again on an outward curve to the impatient double
ting of the bell. To the east was a high defile of hospitals, and to the
west the Workhouse tower faintly imprinted itself on the sombre sky.
The drops of rain grew very large and heavy, and the travellers, instead
of waiting on the kerb, withdrew to the shelter of the wall of the
Queen's Elm. George was now among the group, precipitated like the rest,
as it were, out of the solution of London. George was of the age which
does not admit rain or which believes that it is immune from the usual
consequences of exposure to rain. When advised, especially by women, to
defend himself against the treacheries of the weather, he always
protested confidently that he would 'be all right.' Thus with a stick
and a straw hat he would affront terrible dangers. It was a species of
valour which the event often justified. Indeed he generally was all
right. But to-night, afoot on the way from South Kensington Station in a
region quite unfamiliar to him, he was intimidated by the slapping
menace of the big drops. Reality faced him. His scared thought ran:
"Unless I do something at once I shall get wet through." Impossible to
appear drenched at old Haim's! So he had abandoned all his pretensions
to a magical invulnerability, and rushed under the eave of the Queen's
Elm to join the omnibus group.
He did not harmonize with the omnibus group, being both too elegant and
too high-spirited. His proper role in the circumstances would have been
to 'jump into a hansom'; but there were no empty hansoms, and moreover,
for certain reasons of finance, he had sworn off hansoms until a given
date. He regarded the situation as 'rather a lark,' and he somehow knew
that the group understood and appreciated and perhaps resented his
superior and tolerant attitude. An omnibus rolled palely into the
radiance of the Queen's Elm lamp, the horses' flanks and the lofty
driver's apron gleaming with rain. He sprang towards the vehicle; the
whole group sprang. "Full inside!" snapped the conductor inexorably.
Ting, ting! It was gone, glimmering with its enigmatic load into the
distance. George turned again to the wall, humiliated. It seemed wrong
that the conductor should have included him with the knot of common
omnibus-travellers and late workers. The conductor ought to have
differentiated.... He put out a hand. The rain had capriciously ceased!
He departed gaily and triumphantly. He was re-endowed with the magical
invulnerability.
The background of his mind was variegated. The incidents of the
tremendous motor-car race from Paris to Berlin, which had finished
nearly a week earlier, still glowed on it. And the fact that King Edward
VII had driven in a car from Pall Mall to Windsor Castle in sixty
minutes was beautifully present. Then, he was slightly worried
concerning the Mediterranean Fleet. He knew nothing about it, but as a
good citizen he suspected in idle moments, like a number of other good
citizens, that all was not quite well with the Mediterranean Fleet. As
for the war, he had only begun to be interested in the war within the
last six months, and already he was sick of it. He knew that the Boers
had just wrecked a British military train, and his attitude towards such
methods of fighting was rather severe and scornful; he did not regard
them as 'war.' However, the apparent permanence of the war was
splendidly compensated by the victory of the brothers Doherty over the
American lawn-tennis champions in the Gentlemen's Doubles at Wimbledon.
Who could have expected the brothers to win after the defeat of R.H. by
Mr. Gore in the Singles? George had most painfully feared that the
Americans would conquer, and their overthrowing by the twin brothers
indicated to George, who took himself for a serious student of affairs,
that Britain was continuing to exist, and that the new national
self-depreciative, yearning for efficiency might possibly be rather
absurd after all.
In the midst of these and similar thoughts, and of innumerable minor
thoughts about himself, in the very centre of his mind and occupying
nearly the whole of it, was the vast thought, the obsession, of his own
potential power and its fulfilment. George's egotism was terrific, and
as right as any other natural phenomenon. He had to get on. Much money
was included in his scheme, but simply as a by-product. He had to be a
great architect, and--equally important--he had to be publicly
recognized as a great architect, and recognition could not come without
money. For him, the entire created universe was the means to his end. He
would not use it unlawfully, but he would use it. He was using it, as
well as he yet knew how, and with an independence that was as complete
as it was unconscious. In regard to matters upon which his instinct had
not suggested a course of action, George was always ready enough to be
taught; indeed his respect for an expert was truly deferential. But when
his instinct had begun to operate he would consult nobody and consider
nobody, being deeply sure that infallible wisdom had been granted to
him. (Nor did experience seem to teach him.) Thus, in the affair of a
London lodging, though he was still two years from his majority and had
no resources save the purse of his stepfather, Edwin Clayhanger, he had
decided to leave the Orgreaves without asking or even informing his
parents. In his next letter home he would no doubt inform them,
casually, of what he meant to do or actually had done, and if objections
followed he would honestly resent them.
A characteristic example of his independence had happened when at the
unripe age of seventeen he left the Five Towns for London. Upon his
mother's marriage to Edwin Clayhanger his own name had been informally
changed for him to Clayhanger. But a few days before the day of
departure he had announced that, as Clayhanger was not his own name and
that he preferred his own name, he should henceforth be known as
'Cannon,' his father's name. He did not invite discussion. Mr.
Clayhanger had thereupon said to him privately and as one man of the
world to another: "But you aren't really entitled to the name Cannon,
sonny." "Why?" "Because your father was what's commonly known as a
bigamist, and his marriage with your mother was not legal. I thought I'd
take this opportunity of telling you. You needn't say anything to your
mother--unless of course you feel you must." To which George had
replied: "No, I won't. But if Cannon was my father's name I think I'll
have it all the same." And he did have it. The bigamy of his father did
not apparently affect him. Upon further inquiry he learnt that his
father might be alive or might be dead, but that if alive he was in
America.
The few words from Mr. Enwright about Chelsea had sufficed to turn
Chelsea into Elysium, Paradise, almost into Paris. No other quarter of
London was inhabitable by a rising architect. As soon as Haim had gone
George had begun to look up Chelsea in the office library, and as Mr.
Enwright happened to be an active member of the Society for the Survey
of the Memorials of Greater London, the library served him well. In an
hour and a half he had absorbed something of the historical topography
of Chelsea. He knew that the Fulham Road upon which he was now walking
was a boundary of Chelsea. He knew that the Queen
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[Illustration]
AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS
STUDIES FROM THE CHRONICLES OF ROME
BY
FRANCIS MARION CRAWFORD
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II
London
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1899
_All rights reserved_
Copyright, 1898,
By The Macmillan Company.
Set up and electrotyped October, 1898. Reprinted November,
December, 1898; January, 1899.
_Norwood Press_
_J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith_
_Norwood, Mass., U.S.A._
TABLE OF CONTENTS
VOLUME II
PAGE
REGION VII REGOLA 1
REGION VIII SANT' EUSTACHIO 23
REGION IX PIGNA 44
REGION X CAMPITELLI 64
REGION XI SANT' ANGELO 101
REGION XII RIPA 119
REGION XIII TRASTEVERE 132
REGION XIV BORGO 202
LEO THE THIRTEENTH 218
THE VATICAN 268
SAINT PETER'S 289
LIST OF PHOTOGRAVURE PLATES
VOLUME II
Saint Peter's _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Palazzo Farnese 18
The Pantheon 46
The Capitol 68
General View of the Roman Forum 94
Theatre of Marcellus 110
Porta San Sebastiano 130
The Roman Forum, looking west 154
The Palatine 186
Castle of Sant' Angelo 204
Pope Leo the Th
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Produced by David Widger
RICHARD CARVEL
By Winston Churchill
CONTENTS OF THE COMPLETE BOOK
Volume 1.
I. Lionel Carvel, of Carvel Hall
II. Some Memories of Childhood
III. Caught by the Tide
IV. Grafton would heal an Old Breach
V. "If Ladies be but Young and Fair"
VI. I first suffer for the Cause
VII. Grafton has his Chance
Volume 2.
VIII. Over the Wall
IX. Under False Colours
X. The Red in the Carvel Blood
XI. A Festival and a Parting
XII. News from a Far Country
Volume 3.
XIII. Mr. Allen shows his Hand
XIV. The Volte Coupe
XV. Of which the Rector has the Worst
XVI. In which Some Things are made Clear
XVII. South River
XVIII. The Black Moll
Volume 4.
XIX. A Man of Destiny
XX. A Sad Home-coming
XXI. The Gardener's Cottage
XXII. On the Road
XXIII. London Town
XXIV. Castle Yard
XXV. The Rescue
Volume 5.
XXVI. The Part Horatio played
XXVII. In which I am sore tempted
XXVIII. Arlington Street
XXIX. I meet a very Great Young Man
XXX. A Conspiracy
XXXI. "Upstairs into the World"
XXXII. Lady Tankerville's Drum-major
XXXIII. Drury Lane
Volume 6.
XXXIV. His Grace makes Advances
XXXV. In which my Lord Baltimore appears
XXXVI. A Glimpse of Mr. Garrick
XXXVII. The Serpentine
XXXVIII. In which I am roundly brought to task
XXXIX. Holland House
XL. Vauxhall
XLI. The Wilderness
Volume 7.
XLII. My Friends are proven
XLIII. Annapolis once more
XLIV. Noblesse Oblige
XLV. The House of Memories
XLVI. Gordon's Pride
XLVII. Visitors
XLVIII. Multum in Parvo
XLIX. Liberty loses a Friend
Volume 8.
L. Farewell to Gordon's
LI. How an Idle Prophecy came to pass
LII. How the Gardener's Son fought the Serapis
LIII. In which I make Some Discoveries
LIV. More Discoveries.
LV. The Love of a Maid for a Man
LVI. How Good came out of Evil
LVII. I come to my Own again
FOREWORD
My sons and daughters have tried to persuade me to remodel these memoirs
of my grandfather into a latter-day romance. But I have thought it wiser
to leave them as he wrote them. Albeit they contain some details not of
interest to the general public, to my notion it is such imperfections as
these which lend to them the reality they bear. Certain it is, when
reading them, I live his life over again.
Needless to say, Mr. Richard Carvel never intended them for publication.
His first apology would be for his Scotch, and his only defence is that
he was not a Scotchman.
The lively capital which once reflected the wit and fashion of Europe has
fallen into decay. The silent streets no more echo with the rumble of
coaches and gay chariots, and grass grows where busy merchants trod.
Stately ball-rooms, where beauty once reigned, are cold and empty and
mildewed, and halls, where laughter rang, are silent. Time was when
every wide-throated chimney poured forth its cloud of smoke, when every
andiron held a generous log,--andirons which are now gone to decorate Mr.
Centennial's home in New York or lie with a tag in the window of some
curio shop. The mantel, carved in delicate wreaths, is boarded up, and
an unsightly stove mocks the gilded ceiling. Children romp in that room
with the silver door-knobs, where my master and his lady were wont to sit
at cards in silk and brocade, while liveried blacks entered on tiptoe.
No marble Cupids or tall Dianas fill the niches in the staircase, and the
mahogany board, round which has been gathered many a famous toast and
wit, is gone from the dining room.
But Mr. Carvel's town house in Annapolis stands to-day, with its
neighbours, a mournful relic of a glory that is past.
DANIEL CLAPSADDLE CARVEL.
CALVERT HOUSE, PENNSYLVANIA,
December 21, 1876.
RICHARD CARVEL
CHAPTER I
LIONEL CARVEL, OF CARVEL HALL
Lionel Carvel, Esq., of Carvel Hall, in the county of Queen Anne, was no
inconsiderable man in his Lordship's province of Maryland, and indeed he
was not unknown in the colonial capitals from Williamsburg to Boston.
When his ships arrived out, in May or June, they made a goodly showing at
the wharves, and his captains were ever shrewd men of judgment who
sniffed a Frenchman on the horizon, so that none of the Carvel tobacco
ever went, in that way, to gladden a Gallic heart. Mr. Carvel's acres
were both rich and broad, and his house wide for the stranger who might
seek its shelter, as with God's help so it ever shall be. It has yet to
be said of the Carvels that their guests are hurried away, or that one,
by reason of his worldly goods or position, shall be more welcome than
another.
I take no shame in the pride with which I write of my grandfather, albeit
he took the part of his Majesty and Parliament against the Colonies. He
was no palavering turncoat, like my Uncle Grafton, to cry "God save the
King!" again when an English fleet sailed up the bay. Mr. Carvel's hand
was large and his heart was large, and he was respected and even loved by
the patriots as a man above paltry subterfuge. He was born at Carvel
Hall in the year of our Lord 1696, when the house was, I am told, but a
small dwelling. It was his father, George Carvel, my great-grandsire,
reared the present house in the year 1720, of brick brought from England
as ballast for the empty ships; he added on, in the years following, the
wide wings containing the ball-room, and the banquet-hall, and the large
library at the eastern end, and the offices. But it was my grandfather
who built the great stables and the kennels where he kept his beagles and
his fleeter hounds. He dearly loved the saddle and the chase, and taught
me to love them too. Many the sharp winter day I have followed the fox
with him over two counties, and lain that night, and a week after,
forsooth, at the plantation of some kind friend who was only too glad to
receive us. Often, too, have we stood together from early morning until
dark night, waist deep, on the duck points, I with a fowling-piece I was
all but too young to carry, and brought back a hundred red-heads or
canvas-backs in our bags. He went with unfailing regularity to the races
at Annapolis or Chestertown or Marlborough, often to see his own horses
run, where the coaches of the gentry were fifty and sixty around the
course; where a <DW64>, or a hogshead of tobacco, or a pipe of Madeira was
often staked at a single throw. Those times, my children, are not ours,
and I thought it not strange that Mr. Carvel should delight in a good
main between two cocks, or a bull-baiting, or a breaking of heads at the
Chestertown fair, where he went to show his cattle and fling a guinea
into the ring for the winner.
But it must not be thought that Lionel Carvel, your ancestor, was wholly
unlettered because he was a sportsman, though it must be confessed that
books occupied him only when the weather compelled, or when on his back
with the gout. At times he would fain have me read to him as he lay in
his great four-post bed with the flowered counterpane, from the
Spectator, stopping me now and anon at some awakened memory of his youth.
He never forgave Mr. Addison for killing stout, old Sir Roger de
Coverley, and would never listen to the butler's account of his death.
Mr. Carvel, too, had walked in Gray's Inn Gardens and met adventure at
Fox Hall, and seen the great Marlborough himself. He had a fondness for
Mr. Congreve's Comedies, many of which he had seen acted; and was partial
to Mr. Gay's Trivia, which brought him many a recollection. He would
also listen to Pope. But of the more modern poetry I think Mr. Gray's
Elegy pleased him best. He would laugh over Swift's gall and wormwood,
and would never be brought by my mother to acknowledge the defects in the
Dean's character. Why? He had once met the Dean in a London
drawing-room, when my grandfather was a young spark at Christ Church,
Oxford. He never tired of relating that interview. The hostess was a
very great lady indeed, and actually stood waiting for a word with his
Reverence, whose whim it was rather to talk to the young provincial. He
was a forbidding figure, in his black gown and periwig, so my grandfather
said, with a piercing blue eye and shaggy brow. He made the mighty to
come to him, while young Carvel stood between laughter and fear of the
great lady's displeasure.
"I knew of your father," said the Dean, "before he went to the colonies.
He had done better at home, sir. He was a man of parts."
"He has done indifferently well in Maryland, sir," said Mr. Carvel,
making his bow.
"He hath gained wealth, forsooth," says the Dean, wrathfully, "and might
have had both wealth and fame had his love for King James not turned his
head. I have heard much of the colonies, and have read that doggerel
'Sot Weed Factor' which tells of the gluttonous life of ease you lead in
your own province. You can have no men of mark from such conditions, Mr.
Carvel. Tell me," he adds contemptuously, "is genius honoured among
you?"
"Faith, it is honoured, your Reverence," said my grandfather, "but never
encouraged."
This answer so pleased the Dean that he bade Mr. Carvel dine with him
next day at Button's Coffee House, where they drank mulled wine and old
sack, for which young Mr. Carvel paid. On which occasion his Reverence
endeavoured to persuade the young man to remain in England, and even
went so far as to promise his influence to obtain him preferment. But
Mr. Carvel chose rather (wisely or not, who can judge?) to come back to
Carvel Hall and to the lands of which he was to be master, and to play
the country squire and provincial magnate rather than follow the varying
fortunes of a political party at home. And he was a man much looked up
to in the province before the Revolution, and sat at the council board of
his Excellency the Governor, as his father had done before him, and
represented the crown in more matters than one when the French and
savages were upon our frontiers.
Although a lover of good cheer, Mr. Carvel was never intemperate. To the
end of his days he enjoyed his bottle after dinner, nay, could scarce get
along without it; and mixed a punch or a posset as well as any in our
colony. He chose a good London-brewed ale or porter, and his ships
brought Madeira from that island by the pipe, and sack from Spain and
Portugal, and red wine from France when there was peace. And puncheons
of rum from Jamaica and the Indies for his people, holding that no
gentleman ever drank rum in the raw, though fairly supportable as punch.
Mr. Carvel's house stands in Marlborough Street, a dreary mansion enough.
Praised be Heaven that those who inherit it are not obliged to live there
on the memory of what was in days gone by. The heavy green shutters are
closed; the high steps, though stoutly built, are shaky after these years
of disuse; the host of faithful servants who kept its state are nearly
all laid side by side at Carvel Hall. Harvey and Chess and Scipio are no
more. The kitchen, whither a boyish hunger oft directed my eyes at
twilight, shines not with the welcoming gleam of yore. Chess no longer
prepares the dainties which astonished Mr. Carvel's guests, and which he
alone could cook. The coach still stands in the stables where Harvey
left it, a lumbering relic of those lumbering times when methinks there
was more of goodwill and less of haste in the world. The great brass
knocker, once resplendent from Scipio's careful hand, no longer
fantastically reflects the guest as he beats his tattoo, and Mr. Peale's
portrait of my grandfather is gone from the dining-room wall, adorning,
as you know, our own drawing-room at Calvert House.
I shut my eyes, and there comes to me unbidden that dining-room in
Marlborough Street of a gray winter's afternoon, when I was but a lad.
I see my dear grandfather in his wig and silver-laced waistcoat and his
blue velvet coat, seated at the head of the table, and the precise Scipio
has put down the dumb-waiter filled with shining cut-glass at his left
hand, and his wine chest at his right, and with solemn pomp driven his
black assistants from the room. Scipio was Mr. Carvel's butler. He was
forbid to light the candles after dinner. As dark grew on, Mr. Carvel
liked the blazing logs for light, and presently sets the decanter on the
corner of the table and draws nearer the fire, his guests following. I
recall well how jolly Governor Sharpe, who was a frequent visitor with
us, was wont to display a comely calf in silk stocking; and how Captain
Daniel Clapsaddle would spread his feet with his toes out, and settle his
long pipe between his teeth. And there were besides a host of others who
sat at that fire whose names have passed into Maryland's history,--Whig
and Tory alike. And I remember a tall slip of a lad who sat listening by
the deep-recessed windows on the street, which somehow are always covered
in these pictures with a fine rain. Then a coach passes,--a mahogany
coach emblazoned with the Manners's coat of arms, and Mistress Dorothy
and her mother within. And my young lady gives me one of those demure
bows which ever set my heart agoing like a smith's hammer of a Monday.
CHAPTER II
SOME MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD
A traveller who has all but gained the last height of the great
mist-covered mountain looks back over the painful crags he has mastered
to where a light is shining on the first easy <DW72>. That light is ever
visible, for it is Youth.
After nigh fourscore and ten years of life that Youth is nearer to me now
than many things which befell me later. I recall as yesterday the day
Captain Clapsaddle rode to the Hall, his horse covered with sweat, and
the reluctant tidings of Captain Jack Carvel's death on his lips. And
strangely enough that day sticks in my memory as of delight rather than
sadness. When my poor mother had gone up the stairs on my grandfather's
arm the strong soldier took me on his knee, and drawing his pistol from
his holster bade me snap the lock, which I was barely able to do. And
he told me wonderful tales of the woods beyond the mountains, and of the
painted men who tracked them; much wilder and fiercer they were than
those stray Nanticokes I had seen from time to time near Carvel Hall.
And when at last he would go I clung to him, so he swung me to the back
of his great horse Ronald, and I seized the bridle in my small hands.
The noble beast, like his master, loved a child well, and he cantered off
lightly at the captain's whistle, who cried "bravo" and ran by my side
lest I should fall. Lifting me off at length he kissed me and bade me
not to annoy my mother, the tears in his eyes again. And leaping on
Ronald was away for the ferry with never so much as a look behind,
leaving me standing in the road.
And from that time I saw more of him and loved him better than any man
save my grandfather. He gave me a pony on my next birthday, and a little
hogskin saddle made especially by Master Wythe, the London saddler in the
town, with a silver-mounted bridle. Indeed, rarely did the captain
return from one of his long journeys without something for me and a
handsome present for my mother. Mr. Carvel would have had him make his
home with us when we were in town, but this he would not do. He lodged
in Church Street, over against the Coffee House, dining at that hostelry
when not bidden out, or when not with us. He was much sought after.
I believe there was scarce a man of note in any of the colonies not
numbered among his friends. 'Twas said he loved my mother, and could
never come to care for any other woman, and he promised my father in the
forests to look after her welfare and mine. This promise, you shall see,
he faithfully kept.
Though you have often heard from my lips the story of my mother, I must
for the sake of those who are to come after you, set it down here as
briefly as I may. My grandfather's bark 'Charming Sally', Captain
Stanwix, having set out from Bristol on the 15th of April, 1736, with a
fair wind astern and a full cargo of English goods below, near the
Madeiras fell in with foul weather, which increased as she entered the
trades. Captain Stanwix being a prudent man, shortened sail, knowing the
harbour of Funchal to be but a shallow bight in the rock, and worse than
the open sea in a southeaster. The third day he hove the Sally to; being
a stout craft and not overladen she weathered the gale with the loss of a
jib, and was about making topsails again when a full-rigged ship was
descried in the offing giving signals of distress. Night was coming on
very fast, and the sea was yet running too high for a boat to live, but
the gallant captain furled his topsails once more to await the morning.
It could be seen from her signals that the ship was living throughout the
night, but at dawn she foundered before the Sally's boats could be put in
the water; one of them was ground to pieces on the falls. Out of the
ship's company and passengers they picked up but five souls, four sailors
and a little girl of two years or thereabouts. The men knew nothing more
of her than that she had come aboard at Brest with her mother, a quiet,
delicate lady who spoke little with the other passengers. The ship was
'La Favourite du Roy', bound for the French Indies.
Captain Stanwix's wife, who was a good, motherly person, took charge of
the little orphan, and arriving at Carvel Hall delivered her to my
grandfather, who brought her up as his own daughter. You may be sure the
emblem of Catholicism found upon her was destroyed, and she was baptized
straightway by Doctor Hilliard, my grandfather's chaplain, into the
Established Church. Her clothes were of the finest quality, and her
little handkerchief had worked into the corner of it a coronet, with the
initials "E de T" beside it. Around her neck was that locket with the
gold chain which I have so often shown you, on one side of which is the
miniature of the young officer in his most Christian Majesty's uniform,
and on the other a yellow-faded slip of paper with these words: "Elle est
la mienne, quoiqu'elle ne porte pas mou nom." "She is mine, although she
does not bear my name."
My grandfather wrote to the owners of 'La Favourite du Roy', and likewise
directed his English agent to spare nothing in the search for some clew
to the child's identity. All that he found was that the mother had been
entered on the passenger-list as Madame la Farge, of Paris, and was bound
for Martinico. Of the father there was no trace whatever. The name "la
Farge" the agent, Mr. Dix, knew almost to a certainty was assumed, and
the coronet on the handkerchief implied that the child was of noble
parentage. The meaning conveyed by the paper in the locket, which was
plainly a clipping from a letter, was such that Mr. Carvel never showed
it to my mother, and would have destroyed it had he not felt that some
day it might aid in solving the mystery. So he kept it in his strongbox,
where he thought it safe from prying eyes. But my Uncle Grafton, ever a
deceitful lad, at length discovered the key and read the paper, and
afterwards used the knowledge he thus obtained as a reproach and a taunt
against my mother. I cannot even now write his name without repulsion.
This new member of the household was renamed Elizabeth Carvel, though
they called her Bess, and of a course she was greatly petted and spoiled,
and ruled all those about her. As she grew from childhood to womanhood
her beauty became talked about, and afterwards, when Mistress Carvel went
to the Assembly, a dozen young sparks would crowd about the door of her
coach, and older and more serious men lost their heads on her account.
Her devotion to Mr. Carvel was
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OF HOLY SCRIPTURE***
Transcribed from the 1901 Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge
edition by David Price, email [email protected]
Addresses on the Revised
Version of Holy
Scripture.
BY
C. J. ELLICOTT, D.D.,
BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER,
AND HON. FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE.
LONDON:
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,
NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, W.C.; 43 QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C.
BRIGHTON: 129 NORTH STREET.
NEW YORK: E. & J. B. YOUNG & CO.
| 675.610547 | 3,248 |
2023-11-16 18:27:02.7538080
| 4,921 | 50 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Michael, Mary Meehan and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS AND THE NAVAL CODE
BY CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
AUTHOR OF "THE BOY AVIATORS' SERIES," "THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS' SERIES,"
"THE OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC," "THE OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS AND
THE LOST LINER," "THE OCEAN WIRELESS BOYS OF THE ICE-BERG PATROL," ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1915,
BY HURST & COMPANY
[Illustration: "Huh, I don't think the idea's worth a cent," sniffed
Thurman.]
CONTENTS
I. VACATION DAYS
II. "SPEEDWAY" VS. "CURLEW"
III. CAPTAIN SIMMS, OF THE "THESPIS"
IV. ON SECRET SERVICE
V. NIGHT SIGNALS
VI. IN THE DARK
VII. THE NAVAL CODE
VIII. A MONKEY INTERLUDE
IX. NODDY AND THE BEAR
X. "WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF IT?"
XI. A SWIM WITH A MEMORY
XII. A TALE FROM THE FROZEN LANDS
XIII. A NIGHT ALARM
XIV. JACK'S CURIOSITY AND ITS RESULTS
XV. BILLY TAKES THE TRAIL
XVI. A "GHOSTESS" ABROAD
XVII. ONE MYSTERY SOLVED
XVIII. BILL SNIGGERS DECIDES
XIX. WHAT A "HAYSEED" DID
XX. THE "CURLEW" IN TROUBLE
XXI. THE END OF JACK'S HOLIDAY
XXII. "THE GEM OF THE OCEAN"
XXIII. JACK'S BIG SECRET
XXIV. THE NAVY DEPARTMENT "SITS UP"
XXV. A MYSTERY ON BOARD
XXVI. A "FLASH" OF DISTRESS
XXVII. A STRANGE WRECK
XXVIII. CAST AWAY WITH A PYTHON
XXIX. CAPTURED BY RADIO
XXX. THURMAN PLOTS
XXXI. THE "SUITABLE REWARD"
XXXII. THE PLOTTER'S TRIUMPH
XXXIII. IN THE POWER OF THE ENEMY
XXXIV. THE SEARCH FOR JACK
XXXV. THE WIRELESS MAKES GOOD
The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Naval Code.
CHAPTER I.
VACATION DAYS.
"Up with your helm there, Noddy! Luff her up or you'll have the _Curlew_
on the rocks!"
"That's right, luff!" cried Billy Raynor, adding his voice to Jack
Ready's command.
"That's what I _luff_ to do," grinned the red-headed, former Bowery
waif, Noddy Nipper, as, with a dexterous motion, he jerked over the
tiller of the fine, speedy sloop in which the boys were enjoying a sail
on Alexandria Bay, above the Thousand Islands.
The mainsail and jib shivered, and the _Curlew_ spun round like a top
just as it seemed inevitable that she must end her career on some jagged
rocks that had suddenly loomed up ahead.
"Neatly done, Noddy," applauded Jack. "We'll forgive you even that awful
pun for that skillful bit of boat-handling."
The freckled lad grinned in appreciation of the compliment paid him by
the Wireless Boy.
"Much obliged," he said. "Of course I haven't got sailing down as fine
as you yet. How far do you reckon we are from home?"
"From the Pine Island hotel, you mean?" rejoined Billy Raynor. "Oh, not
more than ten miles."
"Just about that," chimed in Jack. "If this wind holds we'll be home in
time for supper."
"Supper!" exclaimed Bill; "I could eat an octogenarian doughnut, I'm so
hungry."
A groan came from Noddy. Although the Bowery lad had polished up on his
grammar and vocabulary considerably since Jack Ready first encountered
him as second cook on the seal-poaching schooner _Polly Ann_, Captain
"Terror" Carson commanding, still, a word like "Octogenarian" stumped
him, as the saying is.
"What's an octo-octo--what-you-may-call-'um doughnut, anyhow?" he
demanded, for Noddy always liked to acquire a new word, and not
infrequently astonished his friends by coming out with a "whopper"
culled out of the dictionary. "Is it a doughnut with legs on it?"
Jack and Billy broke into a roar of laughter.
"A doughnut with legs on?" sputtered Billy. "Whatever put that idea into
your head, Noddy?"
"Well, don't octo-octo-thing-a-my-jigs have legs?" inquired Noddy.
"Oh, you mean octopuses," cried Jack, with another laugh. "Billy meant
an eighty-year-old doughnut."
"I'll look it up when we get back," remarked Noddy gravely; "it's a good
word."
"Say, fellows, we are sure having a fine time out of this holiday,"
remarked Billy presently, after an interval of silence.
"Yes, but just the same I shan't be sorry when Mr. Juke's new liner is
completed and we can go to sea again," said Jack, "but after our
experiences up north, among the ice, I think we had a holiday coming to
us."
"That we did," agreed Noddy. "Some difference between skimming around
here in a fine yacht and being cast away on that wretched island with
nothing to eat and not much prospect of getting any."
"Yes, but if it hadn't been for that experience, and the ancient
treasure we found, we couldn't have taken such a jolly vacation," argued
Jack. "It's made Uncle Toby a rich man and put all of us on Easy
Street."
"Yes, it was certainly worth all the hardships we went through," agreed
Noddy.
"I guess we are in for a long spell of quiet now, though," remarked
Jack, after a pause, during which each boy thought of their recent
adventures.
"Not so sure of that," replied Noddy. "You're the sort of fellow,
judging from what you've told us, who is always tumbling up against
something exciting."
"Yes, I feel it in my bones that we are not destined to lead an
absolutely uneventful time----" began Billy Raynor. "I--hold hard there,
Noddy; watch yourself. Here comes another yacht bearing down on us!"
Jack and Billy leaped to their feet, steadying themselves by clutching a
stay. Billy was right. Another yacht, a good deal larger than their own,
was heading straight for them.
"Hi! put your helm over! We've got the right of way!" shouted Jack,
cupping his hands.
"Look out where you're going!" cried Billy.
But whoever was steering the other yacht made no motion to carry out the
suggestions. Instead, under a press of canvas, she kept directly on her
course.
"She'll run us down," cried Noddy. "What'll I do, Jack?"
"Throw her over to port lively now," sang out Jack Ready. "Hurry up or
we'll have a bad smash-up!"
He leaped toward the stern to Noddy's assistance, while Billy Raynor,
the young engineer, did the same.
In former volumes of this series the previous adventures of the lads
have been described. In the first book, devoted to their doings and to
describing the fascinating workings of sea-wireless aboard ocean-going
craft, which was called "The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Atlantic," we
learned how Jack became a prime favorite with the irascible Jacob Jukes,
head of the great Transatlantic and Pacific shipping combine. Jack's
daring rescue of Millionaire Jukes' little girl resulted in the lad's
obtaining the position of wireless man on board a fine ship, after he
had looked for such a job for months in vain. But because Jack would not
become the well-paid companion of Mr. Jukes' son Tom, a rather sickly
youth, the millionaire became angry with the young wireless man.
However, Jack was able, subsequently, to rescue Mr. Jukes from a
drifting boat after the magnate's yacht had burned in mid-ocean and,
following that, to reunite the almost frantic millionaire with his
missing son.
Other exciting incidents were described, and Jack gained rapidly in his
chosen profession, as did his chum, Billy Raynor, who was third
assistant engineer of the big vessel. The next volume, which was called
"The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner," told of the loss of the
splendid ship "Tropic Queen," on a volcanic island after she had become
disabled and had drifted helplessly for days. By wireless Jack managed
to secure aid from U. S. vessels, and it came in the nick of time, for
the island was destroyed by an eruption just after the last of the
rescued passengers had been taken off. Wireless, too, secured, as
described in that book, the capture of a criminal much wanted by the
government.
The third volume related more of Jack's doings and was called "The Ocean
Wireless Boys of the Ice-berg Patrol." This book told how Jack, while
serving aboard one of the revenue cutters that send out wireless
warnings of ice-bergs to transatlantic liners, fell into the hands of a
band of seal poachers. Things looked black for the lad for a time, but
he found two good friends among the rough crew in the persons of Noddy
Nipper and Pompey, an eccentric old <DW52> cook, full of superstitions
about ghosts. The _Polly Ann_, as the schooner was called, was wrecked
and Jack and his two friends cast away on a lonesome spot of land called
Skull Island. They were rescued from this place by Jack's eccentric,
wooden-legged Uncle, Captain Toby Ready, who, when at home, lived on a
stranded wooden schooner where he made patent medicines out of herbs for
sailors. Captain Toby had got wind of an ancient treasure hidden by a
forgotten race on an Arctic island. After the strange reunion they all
sailed north. But an unscrupulous financier (also on a hunt for the
treasure) found a way to steal their schooner and left them destitute.
For a time it appeared that they would leave their bones in the bleak
northland. But the skillful resource and pluck of Jack and Noddy won the
day. We now find them enjoying a holiday, with Captain Toby as host, at
a fashionable hotel among the beautiful Thousand Islands. Having made
this necessary digression, let us again turn our attention to the
situation which had suddenly confronted the happy three, and which
appeared to be fraught with imminent danger.
Like their own craft, the other boat carried a single mast and was
sloop-rigged. But the boat was larger in every respect than the
_Curlew_. She carried a great spread of snowy canvas and heeled over
under its press till the white water raced along her gunwale.
As she drew nearer the boys saw that there were two occupants on board
her. One was a tall, well-dressed lad in yachting clothes, whose face,
rather handsome otherwise, was marred by a supercilious sneer, as if he
considered himself a great deal better than anyone else. The other was a
somewhat elderly man whose hair appeared to be tinged with gray. His
features were coarse, but he resembled the lad with him enough to make
it certain he was his father.
"Sheer off there," roared Jack at the top of his lungs, to the occupants
of the other boat; "do you want to run us down?"
"Get out of the way then," cried the boy.
"Yes, sheer off yourselves, whipper-snappers!" came from the man.
"We've got the right of way!" cried Jack.
"Go chase yourselves," yelled Noddy, reverting in this moment of
excitement, as was his habit at such times, to his almost forgotten
slang.
"Keep her on her course, Donald; never mind those young jack-a-napes,"
said the man in the other sloop, addressing the boy, who was steering.
"All right, pop," was the reply; "they'll get the worst of the smash if
they don't clear out."
"Gracious, they really mean to run us down," cried Jack, in a voice of
alarm. "Better sheer off, Noddy, though I hate to do it."
"By jinks, do you see who they are?" cried Bill Raynor, who had been
studying the pair in the other boat, which was now only a few yards off.
"It's that millionaire Hiram Judson and his son Donald, the boy you had
the run in with at the hotel the other day."
But Jack made no reply. The two boats were now almost bowsprit to
bowsprit. As for Noddy, the freckles stood out on his pale, frightened
face like spots on the sun.
CHAPTER II.
"SPEEDAWAY" VS. "CURLEW."
But at the critical moment the lad at the helm of the other craft, which
bore the name _Speedaway_, appeared to lose his nerve. He sheered off
and merely grazed the _Curlew's_ side, scraping off a lot of paint.
"Hi, there! What do you mean by doing such a thing?" demanded Jack,
directly the danger of a head-on collision was seen to have been
averted.
The other lad broke into a laugh. It was echoed by the man with him,
whom he had addressed as "pop."
"Just thought I'd see how much you fellows knew about handling a boat,"
he sneered. "It's just as I thought, you're a bunch of scare-cats. You
needn't have been afraid that I couldn't keep the _Speedaway_ out of
danger."
"You risked the lives of us all by running so close," cried Billy
indignantly.
"Never attempt such a thing again," said Jack angrily, "or----"
"Or what, my nervous young friend?" taunted the elderly man.
"Yes," said the lad, with an unpleasant grin, "what will you do?"
"I shall feel sorely tempted to come on board your boat and give you the
same sort of a thrashing I gave you the other day when I found you
tormenting that poor dog," said Jack, referring to the incident Billy
Raynor had already hinted at when he first recognized the occupants of
the _Speedaway_.
"You'll never set foot on my boat," cried Donald Judson, with what he
meant to be dangerous emphasis; but his face had suddenly become very
pale. "You think you got the best of me the other day, but I'll fix you
yet."
The two craft were out of earshot almost by this time, and none of the
three lads on the _Curlew_ thought it worth while to answer Donald
Judson. The millionaire and his son occupied an island not far from the
Pine Island Hotel. A few days before the incident we have just recorded,
Jack, who hated cruelty in any form, had found Donald Judson, who often
visited the hotel to display his extensive assortment of clothes,
amusing himself by torturing a dog. When Jack told him to stop it the
millionaire's son started to fight, and Jack, finding a quarrel forced
upon him, ended it in the quickest way--by knocking the boy flat.
Donald slunk off, swearing to be revenged. But Jack had only laughed at
him and advised him to forget the incident except as a lesson in
kindness to animals. It appeared, however, that, far from forgetting his
humiliation, Donald Judson was determined to avenge it even at the risk
of placing his own life in danger.
"I wonder if he followed us up to-day on purpose to try to ram us or
force us on a sandbar?" mused Noddy, as they sailed on.
"Looks like it," said Billy.
"I believe he is actually sore enough to sink our boat if he could, even
if he damaged his own in doing it," said Jack.
"To my mind his father is as bad he is," said Noddy; "he made no attempt
to stop him. If I----Look, they've put their boat about and are
following us."
"There's no doubt that they are," said Jack, after a moment's scrutiny
of the latest maneuver of the _Speedaway_. The Judsons' boat, which was
larger, and carried more sail and was consequently faster than the
_Curlew_, gained rapidly on the boys. Soon she was within hailing
distance.
"What are you following us for? Want to have another collision?" cried
Jack.
"Do you own the water hereabouts?" asked Donald. "I didn't know I was
following you."
"We've a right to sail where we please," shouted Judson.
"Yes, if you don't imperil other folks' boats," agreed Jack. "If you've
got any scheme in mind to injure us I'd advise you to forget it," he
added.
"Huh! What scheme would I have in mind? Think I'd bother with
insignificant chaps like you and your little toy boat?"
"You keep out of our way," added the man.
"Yes, just do that little thing if you know what's healthy for you,"
chimed in Donald Judson.
His insulting tone aroused Jack's ire.
"It'll be the worse for you if you try any of your tricks," he roared.
"What tricks would I have, Ready?" demanded the other.
"Some trick that may turn out badly for you!"
"I guess I don't need you to tell me what I will or what I won't do."
"All right, only keep clear of us. That's fair warning. You'll get the
worst of it if you don't."
"So, young man, you are going to play the part of bully, are you?"
shouted Donald's father. "That fits in with what I've heard of you from
him. You've been prying around our boat for several days. I don't like
it."
"Well, keep away from us," cried Billy.
"Yes, your room's a lot better than your company," sputtered Noddy. "We
don't care if you never come back."
"Really, what nice language," sneered Donald. "I congratulate you on
your gentlemanly friend, Ready. He----"
"Look out there," warned Jack, for Noddy, in his indignation, had sprung
to his feet, entirely forgetting the tiller. The _Curlew_ broached to
and heeled over, losing "way." The _Speedaway_ came swiftly on. In an
instant there was a ripping, tearing sound and a concerted shout of
dismay from the boys as the sharp bow of Judson's larger, heavier craft
cut deep into the _Curlew's_ quarter.
"Now you've done it!" cried Billy Raynor.
"I--er--it was an accident," cried Donald, as the two boats swung apart,
and there was some justification for this plea, as the _Speedaway_ was
also damaged, though not badly.
"It was no accident," cried Jack, but he said no more just then. He was
too busy examining the rent in the _Curlew's_ side.
Still shivering, like a wounded creature, from the shock of the impact,
the _Curlew_, with the water pouring into the jagged rip in her side,
began slowly to sink!
CHAPTER III.
CAPTAIN SIMMS OF THE "THESPIS."
Silence, except for the inrush of water into the damaged side of the
_Curlew_, followed the collision. The three lads on the sinking craft
gazed helplessly at each other for a few seconds.
"Get away as quick as you can," whispered Donald's father to the boy who
had wrought the damage, and now looked rather scared. The _Speedaway_
swung out and her big mainsail began to fill.
"We are going to the bottom," choked out Billy, the first of the party
to recover the use of his vocal organs.
"I'm afraid there's no doubt of that," said Jack. "Donald Judson," he
shouted, raising his voice and throwing it across the appreciable
distance that now separated the two craft, "you'll pay for this."
"It was an accident, I tell you," yelled back the other lad, but in a
rather shaky voice.
"You'll do no good by abusing us," chimed in his father.
"What'll we do, Jack?" demanded Noddy, tugging at Jack's sleeve.
"Steer for the shore. There's just a chance we can make it, or at least
shallow water," was the reply.
"Doesn't look much as if we could make it," said Billy dubiously,
shaking his head and regarding the big leak ruefully, "but I suppose we
can try."
The wounded _Curlew_ began to struggle along with a motion very unlike
her usual swift, smooth glide. She staggered and reeled heavily.
"Put her on the other tack," said Jack. Noddy followed his orders with
the result that the _Curlew_ heeled over on the side opposite to that
which had been injured, and thus raised her wound above the water line.
Billy began bailing, frantically, with a bucket, at the water that had
already come in.
"Shall we help you?" cried Donald.
"No, we don't want your help," answered Jack shortly. "We'll thresh all
this out in court later on," he added.
"I'm a witness that it was an accident," shouted the elder Judson.
"You'll have a swell time proving I ran you down on purpose," added his
son.
Seeing that it was useless to prolong such a fruitless argument at long
distance, Jack refrained from making a reply. Besides, the _Curlew_
required his entire attention
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Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
By Homer Greene
A LINCOLN CONSCRIPT. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.
COAL AND THE COAL MINES. In Riverside Library for Young People.
Illustrated. 16mo, 75 cents.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
Boston and New York
A LINCOLN CONSCRIPT
[Illustration: “MY BOY, OF SUCH STUFF ARE PATRIOTS AND HEROES MADE.”]
A LINCOLN
CONSCRIPT
BY HOMER GREENE
ILLUSTRATED BY T. DE THULSTRUP
[Illustration]
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK : THE
RIVERSIDE PRESS, CAMBRIDGE
1909
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HOMER GREENE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published April 1909_
CONTENTS
I. “THE SINS OF THE FATHERS” 1
II. NEWS FROM GETTYSBURG 27
III. A LOVER OF LINCOLN 52
IV. THE DRAFTED COPPERHEAD 77
V. AN UNEXPECTED BREAKFAST 100
VI. A DESPERATE DECISION 122
VII. OFF TO THE WAR 143
VIII. A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 166
IX. WITH ABRAHAM LINCOLN 191
X. FIGHTING FOR THE FLAG 215
XI. THE GREAT TRAGEDY 238
XII. THE WELCOME HOME 260
ILLUSTRATIONS
“_My boy, of such stuff are patriots and heroes made_”
(_page 244_) Frontispiece
“_I’m no traitor_” 12
“_This isn’t fair play_” 54
“_I’ve discovered a way to get rid of these men_” 108
“_Well, what’s your case?_” 154
_Lincoln laid his hand on Bannister’s knee_ 202
“_Father, what does it mean?_” 218
_He faced his fellow townsmen_ 274
A LINCOLN CONSCRIPT
CHAPTER I
“THE SINS OF THE FATHERS”
On the second day of July in the year 1863 the Civil War in America
was at its height. Late in the preceding month Lee had turned his
face northward, and, with an army of a hundred thousand Confederate
soldiers at his back, had marched up into Pennsylvania. There was
little to hinder his advance. Refraining, by reason of strict orders,
from wanton destruction of property, his soldiers nevertheless lived on
the rich country through which they passed. York and Carlisle were in
their grasp. Harrisburg was but a day’s march away, and now, on this
second day of July, flushed with fresh victories, they had turned and
were giving desperate battle, through the streets and on the hills of
Gettysburg, to the Union armies that had followed them.
The old commonwealth was stirred as she had not been stirred before
since the fall of Sumter. Every town and village in the state
responded quickly to the governor’s call for emergency troops to
defend the capital city. Mount Hermon, already depleted by generous
early enlistments, and by the draft of 1862, gathered together the
bulk of the able-bodied men left in the village and its surroundings,
and sent them forth in defense of the commonwealth. Not that Mount
Hermon was in especial danger from Lee’s invasion, far from it. Up
in the northeastern corner of the state, on a plateau of one of the
low foot-hills of the Moosic range, sheltered by the mountains at its
back, it was well protected, both by reason of distance and location,
from the advancing foe. But Mount Hermon was intensely patriotic. In
the days preceding the Revolution the sturdy pioneers from Connecticut
had met the equally sturdy settlers from the domain of Penn, and on
this plateau they had fought out their contentions and settled their
differences; the son of the Pennamite had married the daughter of the
Yankee; and the new race, with love of country tingeing every drop
of its blood a deeper red, had stayed on and possessed the land. So,
on this July day, when the armies of North and South were striving
and struggling with each other in bloody combat back and forth across
the plain and up the hills of Gettysburg, Mount Hermon’s heart beat
fast. But it was not for themselves that these people were anxious. It
was for the fathers, husbands,
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Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from scanned images of public domain
material from the Google Books project.)
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
The contractions ’t and n’t for “it” and “not” have a space
before and after them, so we see “is n’t” and “wer n’t” and “’t is”
in the original text. These spaces are retained in this etext. The
consistent exceptions in both the text and the etext are “don’t”
“can’t” and “won’t”.
Other contractions such as “they’re” and “you’re” have a half-space
in the original text; these words are closed up in the etext.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources. All misspellings
in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.
[Illustration:
_If this little world to-night
Suddenly should fall thro’ space
In a hissing, headlong flight,
Shrivelling from off its face,
As it falls into the sun,
In an instant every trace
Of the little crawling things--
Ants, philosophers, and lice,
Cattle, cockroaches, and kings,
Beggars, millionaires, and mice,
Men and maggots all as one
As it falls into the sun--
Who can say but at the same
Instant from some planet far
A child may watch us and exclaim:
“See the pretty shooting star!”_
]
_The_ Bashful
Earthquake
& _Other_ FABLES
and VERSES by
OLIVER HERFORD
with many pictures
by _the Author_
[Illustration]
New York: Published by
Charles Scribner’s Sons in
the Autumn of MDCCCXCVIII
_Copyright, 1898_,
BY OLIVER HERFORD.
University Press:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
_TO THE ILLUSTRATOR_
IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF HIS AMIABLE CONDESCENSION IN LENDING
HIS EXQUISITELY DELICATE ART TO THE EMBELLISHMENT OF THESE POOR
VERSES FROM HIS SINCEREST ADMIRER
THE AUTHOR
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE BASHFUL EARTHQUAKE 1
THE LOVESICK SCARECROW 7
THE MUSIC OF THE FUTURE 9
SONG 11
THE DOORLESS WOLF 12
THE BOLD BAD BUTTERFLY 15
CRUMBS 20
JAPANESQUE 21
THE DIFFERENCE 22
WHY YE BLOSSOME COMETH BEFORE YE LEAFE 23
THE FIRST FIRST OF APRIL 24
THE EPIGRAMMATIST 26
THE SILVER LINING 28
THE BOASTFUL BUTTERFLY 31
THE THREE WISHES 35
TRUTH 37
THE TRAGIC MICE 38
ABSENCE OF MIND 40
THE GRADUATE 41
THE POET’S PROPOSAL 44
A THREE-SIDED QUESTION 45
THE SNAIL’S DREAM 51
A CHRISTMAS LEGEND 52
HYDE AND SEEKE 54
IN THE CAFÉ 55
THE LEGEND OF THE LILY 58
THE UNTUTORED GIRAFFE 60
THE ENCHANTED WOOD 64
A BUNNY ROMANCE 68
THE FLOWER CIRCUS 72
THE FATUOUS FLOWER 77
A LOVE STORY 80
YE KNYGHTE-MARE 83
METAPHYSICS 84
THE PRINCESS THAT WAS N’T 86
THE LION’S TOUR 89
THE FUGITIVE THOUGHT 93
THE CUSSED DAMOZEL 97
A GAS-LOG REVERIE 101
CUPID’S FAULT 103
ALL ABOARD 104
KILLING TIME 105
THE MERMAID CLUB 107
A SONG 109
ANGEL’S TOYS 110
THE REFORMED TIGRESS 112
TWO LADIES 115
TO THE WOLF AT THE DOOR 119
THE FALL OF J. W. BEANE 121
THE BASHFUL EARTHQUAKE
_Crime, W
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Three Midshipmen, by W.H.G. Kingston.
________________________________________________________________________
The tale of the Three Midshipmen is carried on to the Three Lieutenants,
the Three Commanders, and the Three Admirals. The book starts with the
arrival of three new boys at a boarding school for young gentlemen. One
boy is English, one is Scottish, and the third is Irish. Under the
influence of various bullies and other schoolboy adversities the three
lads learn to stick together, and to look after each other. They join
the Navy, and get various postings by which from time to time they meet,
usually under the most difficult circumstances. Of course they each
survive bravely, though any of the boats' crews that they have the
honour to command are mowed down by the enemy. In other words, some of
it is pretty tall stuff, but it was very good fare for the nineteenth
century and early twentieth century English schoolboy. I can remember
these books on our 1940s school library's shelves, very well-thumbed and
many times repaired by one of the masters, whose hobby it was to run a
voluntary book-binding class. There are three parts to the book, of
which we originally published only the first two, as we were working
with a book that did not have the last part. In this new 2006 edition
you will be able to read about the Midshipmen in China. We apologise
for the delay in making good this omission.
We see no reason why you should not enjoy this book.
________________________________________________________________________
THE THREE MIDSHIPMEN IN THE LEVANT, IN AFRICA AND IN CHINA, BY W.H.G.
KINGSTON.
CHAPTER ONE.
EARLY DAYS.
Ours was a capital school, though it was not a public one. It was not
far from London, so that a coach could carry us down there in little
more than an hour from the _White Horse Cellar_, Piccadilly. On the top
of the posts, at each side of the gates, were two eagles; fine large
birds I thought them. They looked out on a green, fringed with tall
elms, beyond which was our cricket-field. A very magnificent red-brick
old house rose behind the eagles, full of windows belonging to our
sleeping-rooms. The playground was at the back of the house, with a
grand old tulip tree in the centre, a tectum for rainy weather on one
side, and the large school room on the other. Beyond was a good-sized
garden, full of apple and pear trees, but, as we very seldom went into
it, I do not remember its appearance. Perhaps, were I to see the place
again, I might find its dimensions somewhat altered. The master was a
first-rate schoolmaster. What his attainments were, I cannot say; but
he understood managing boys admirably. He kept us all in very good
order, had us fairly taught, fed us with wholesome, if not luxurious,
food, and, though he used his cane freely, treated us justly. We held
him in awe, and yet we liked him.
It was after the summer holidays, when I had just got back, I heard that
three new boys had come. In the afternoon they all appeared in the
playground. They were strangers to each other as well as to us, but
their similarity of fate drew them together. One was a slightly made,
dark, and somewhat delicate-looking boy; another was a sturdy little
fellow, with a round, ruddy countenance, and a jovial, good-natured
expression in it, yet he did not look as if he would stand any nonsense;
the third was rather smaller than the other two, a pleasant-looking
fellow, and though his eyes were red with crying, he seemed to be
cutting some joke which made his companions laugh. He had come all the
way from Ireland, we heard, and his elder brother had that morning left
him and gone back home, and that made him unhappy just then. He at once
got the name of Paddy in the school. He did not mind it. His real name
was Terence Adair, so sometimes he was called Paddy Adair.
"I say, you fellow, what's your name?" asked a biggish boy of the
stoutest of the three new-comers.
"Jack Rogers," was the answer, given in a quiet tone.
"I don't believe it," replied the big boy, who was known as Bully
Pigeon; "it's such a rum name."
"I'll make you believe it, and remember it too," exclaimed the
new-comer, eyeing the other from head to foot, and walking firmly up to
him, with his lips closed, while he moved his head slowly from side to
side. "I tell you my name is Jack Rogers--Now!"
The bully did not say a word. He looked as if he would have liked to
have hit, but Paddy Adair had followed his new friend, and was evidently
about to join in the fray if it was once begun; so the big boy thought
better of it. He would gain no credit for attacking a little fellow the
first day of his coming. There were many witnesses of the scene, and
Jack was unanimously pronounced to be a plucky little chap. Pigeon,
defeated in one direction, turned his attention to the first-named boy,
who had scarcely moved since he entered the playground, but kept looking
round with his large black eyes on the scene before him, which was
evidently strange to his sight.
"What are you called, I should like to know?" he asked in a rude tone.
"Alick Murray," was the answer, in a quiet, gentlemanly voice.
"Then you come from Scotland, I suppose?" said the bully.
"Yes, I do," replied the former.
"Oh! I wonder your mamma would let you go away from her
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Produced by Neville Allen, David Edwards and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
COUNTRY LIFE
PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
* * * * *
[Illustration]
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
[Illustration]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S COUNTRY LIFE
[Illustration]
* * * * *
[Illustration: BROWN'S COUNTRY HOUSE.--_Brown (who takes a friend home
to see his new purchase, and strikes a light to show it)._ "Confound it,
the beastly thing's stopped!"]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S COUNTRY LIFE
HUMOURS OF OUR RUSTICS
AS PICTURED BY
PHIL MAY, L. RAVEN-HILL,
CHARLES KEENE, GEORGE
DU MAURIER, BERNARD
PARTRIDGE, GUNNING
KING, LINLEY SAMBOURNE,
G. D. ARMOUR,
C. E. BROCK, TOM BROWNE,
LEWIS BAUMER, WILL
OWEN, F. H. TOWNSEND,
G. H. JALLAND, G. E.
STAMPA, AND OTHERS
_WITH 180 ILLUSTRATIONS_
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My Lady Caprice
by
Jeffery Farnol
CONTENTS
I. TREASURE TROVE
II. THE SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM
III. THE DESPERADOES
IV. MOON MAGIC
V. THE EPISODE OF THE INDIAN'S AUNT
VI. THE OUTLAW
VII. THE BLASTED OAK
VIII. THE LAND OF HEART'S DELIGHT
I
TREASURE TROVE
I sat fishing. I had not caught anything, of course--I rarely do, nor
am I fond of fishing in the very smallest degree, but I fished
assiduously all the same, because circumstances demanded it.
It had all come about through Lady Warburton, Lisbeth's maternal aunt.
Who Lisbeth is you will learn if you trouble to read these veracious
narratives--suffice it for the present that she has been an orphan from
her youth up, with no living relative save her married sister Julia and
her Aunt (with a capital A)--the Lady Warburton aforesaid.
Lady Warburton is small and somewhat bony, with a sharp chin and a
sharper nose, and invariably uses lorgnette; also, she is possessed of
much worldly goods.
Precisely a week ago Lady Warburton had requested me to call upon
her--had regarded me with a curious exactitude through her lorgnette,
and gently though firmly (Lady Warburton is always firm) had suggested
that Elizabeth, though a dear child, was young and inclined to be a
little self-willed. That she (Lady Warburton) was of opinion that
Elizabeth had mistaken the friendship which had existed between us so
long for something stronger. That although she (Lady Warburton) quite
appreciated the fact that one who wrote books, and occasionally a play,
was not necessarily immoral-- Still I was, of course, a terrible
Bohemian, and the air of Bohemia was not calculated to conduce to that
degree of matrimonial harmony which she (Lady Warburton) as Elizabeth's
Aunt, standing to her in place of a mother, could wish for. That,
therefore, under these circumstances my attentions were--etc., etc.
Here I would say in justice to myself that despite the torrent of her
eloquence I had at first made some attempt at resistance; but who could
hope to contend successfully against a woman possessed of such an
indomitable nose and chin, and one, moreover, who could level a pair of
lorgnette with such deadly precision? Still, had Lisbeth been beside
me things might have been different even then; but she had gone away
into the country--so Lady Warburton had informed me. Thus alone and at
her mercy, she had succeeded in wringing from me a half promise that I
would cease my attentions for the space of six months, "just to give
dear Elizabeth time to learn her own heart in regard to the matter."
This was last Monday. On the Wednesday following, as I wandered
aimlessly along Piccadilly, at odds with Fortune and myself, but
especially with myself, my eye encountered the Duchess of Chelsea.
The Duchess is familiarly known as the "Conversational Brook" from the
fact that when once she begins she goes on forever. Hence, being in my
then frame of mind, it was with a feeling of rebellion that I obeyed
the summons of her parasol and crossed over to the brougham.
"So she's gone away?" was her greeting as I raised my hat--"Lisbeth,"
she nodded, "I happened to hear something about her, you know."
It is strange, perhaps, but the Duchess generally does "happen to hear"
something about everything. "And you actually allowed yourself to be
bullied into making that promise--Dick! Dick! I'm ashamed of you."
"How was I to help myself?" I began. "You see--"
"Poor boy!" said the Duchess, patting me affectionately with the handle
of her parasol, "it wasn't to be expected, of course. You see, I know
her--many, many years ago I was at school with Agatha Warburton."
"But she probably didn't use lorgnettes then, and--"
"Her nose was just as sharp though--'peaky' I used to call it," nodded
the Duchess. "And she has actually sent Lisbeth away--dear child--and
to such a horrid, quiet little place, too, where she'll have nobody to
talk to but that young Selwyn.
"I beg pardon, Duchess, but--"
"Horace Selwyn, of Selwyn Park--cousin to Lord Selwyn, of Brankesmere.
Agatha has been scheming for it a long time, under the rose, you know.
Of course, it would be a good match, in a way--wealthy, and all
that--but I must say he bores me horribly--so very serious and
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
—Has been mantained the ancient style, therefore just the more evident
printing errors have been corrected. Punctuation has not been corrected
also if inconsistent with modern English.
—Italics and smallcaps have been manteined as far as possible, since as
in old books (this one was printed in 1621) sometimes text style
changes when a word is hyphenated.
HIS
MAIESTIES
DECLARATION,
Touching his proceedings in the
_late Assemblie and Conuention_
of Parliament.
[Illustration: DIEV ET MON DROIT.]
_Imprinted at London by_ BONHAM
NORTON and IOHN BILL,
Printers to the Kings most Excellent
MAIESTIE. 1621.
[Illustration]
HIS
MAIESTIES
Declaration, touching his proceedings
in the late Assembly and
_Conuention of Parliament_.
Hauing of late, vpon mature deliberation, with the aduice and vniforme
consent of Our whole Priuie Councell, determined to dissolue the
Assembly and Conuention of Parliament, lately called together by Our
Regall power and Authoritie, Wee were pleased by Our Proclamation,
giuen at Our Palace of _Westminster_ the sixt day of this instant
_Ianuary_, to declare, not onely Our pleasure and resolution therein,
but also to expresse some especiall passages and proceedings, moouing
vs
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THE SEX WORSHIP AND
SYMBOLISM OF PRIMITIVE
RACES
AN INTERPRETATION
BY
SANGER BROWN II., M. D.
_Assistant Physician, Bloomingdale Hospital_
_With an Introduction by James H. Leuba_
BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER
TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED
_Copyright 1916, by Richard G. Badger_
_All rights reserved_
_The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A._
DEDICATED TO MY WIFE
HELEN WILLISTON BROWN
PREFACE
The greater part of the first three chapters of this book appeared in
the _Journal of Abnormal Psychology_ in the December-January number of
1915-16 and the February-March number of 1916. This material is
reprinted here by the kind permission of the Editor of that Journal.
This part of the subject is chiefly historical and the data here given
is accessible as indicated by the references throughout the text,
although many of these books are difficult to secure or are out of
print. For this historical material I am particularly indebted to the
writings of Hargrave Jennings, Richard Payne Knight and Doctor Thomas
Inman. Most of the reference matter coming under the general heading of
Nature Worship was obtained from comparatively recent sources, such as
the publications of the Bureau of American Ethnology, of the Smithsonian
Institute, and certain publications of the American Museum of Natural
History. Frazer's _Golden Bough_ and other writings of J. G. Frazer on
Anthropology
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THE PEN OF TRUTH***
Transcribed from the 1814 B. Bennett edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: Public domain book cover]
THE
LIVING LETTER,
WRITTEN WITH THE
_PEN OF TRUTH_,
BEING THE SUBSTANCE
Of a Sermon,
PREACHED AT THE
_OBELISK CHAPEL_, _St. George’s Fields_,
On SUNDAY Morning, Sept. 26, 1813.
* * * * *
_By J. CHURCH_, _V. D. M._
* * * * *
My Tongue is the Pen of a ready Writer. Psalm xlv. Ver. 1.
Written among the living in Jerusalem. Isaiah, Chap. iv. V. 3.
I will write on him my new name. Rev. Chap. 3. Ver. 12.
* * * * *
London:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BY B. BENNETT, TICHBORNE STREET, HAYMARKET.
1814.
* * * * *
_To Miss K. and Miss M._
_Dear Friends_,
_Grace and Peace be with you_:—_I received your kind present of the
Bundle of Pens_, _and beg your acceptance of my thanks for the same_; _I
really stood in need them_, _and I suppose you thought so by the badness
of my writing_, _or my reluctance in sending out more Sermoms from the
Press_. _The Pens were very good_, _and I hope to use them for the Glory
of God only_,—_whilst laying before me they led me to reflect on the
passage I selected for a Text preached from on the following Sunday
morning_, _and I
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Transcriber's Note.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. The inconsistent
use of hyphens has been retained.
Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Small capitals have been
replaced by full capitals.
[Illustration: CONVENT OF SOLOVETSK IN THE FROZEN SEA.]
[Illustration: RUSSIAN INFANTRY ON EASTERN STEPPE ESCORTED BY KOZAKS
AND KIRGHIZ.]
FREE RUSSIA.
BY
WILLIAM HEPWORTH DIXON.
AUTHOR OF
"FREE AMERICA." "HER MAJESTY'S TOWER." &c.
[Illustration]
_NEW YORK_:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS.
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1870.
PREFACE.
_Svobodnaya_ Rossia--_Free_ Russia--is a word on every lip in that
great country; at once the Name and Hope of the new empire born of the
Crimean war. In past times Russia was free, even as Germany and France
were free. She fell before Asiatic hordes; and the Tartar system
lasted, in spirit, if not in form, until the war; but since that
conflict ended, the old Russia has been born again. This new
country--hoping to be pacific, meaning to be Free--is what I have
tried to paint.
My journeys, just completed, carried me from the Polar Sea to the Ural
Mountains, from the mouth of the Vistula to the Straits of Yeni Kale,
including visits to the four holy shrines of Solovetsk, Pechersk, St.
George, and Troitsa. My object being to paint the Living People, I
have much to say about pilgrims, monks, and parish priests; about
village justice, and patriarchal life; about beggars, tramps, and
sectaries; about Kozaks, Kalmuks, and Kirghiz; about workmen's artels,
burgher rights, and the division of land; about students' revolts and
soldiers' grievances; in short, about the Human Forces which underlie
and shape the external politics of our time.
Two journeys made in previous years have helped me to judge the
reforms which are opening out the Japan-like empire of Nicolas into
the Free Russia of the reigning prince.
_February, 1870._
_6 St. James's Terrace._
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I.--UP NORTH 11
II.--THE FROZEN SEA 16
III.--THE DVINA 20
IV.--ARCHANGEL 24
V.--RELIGIOUS LIFE 29
VI.--PILGRIMS 34
VII.--FATHER JOHN 40
VIII.--THE VLADIKA 46
IX.--A PILGRIM-BOAT 51
X.--THE HOLY ISLES 57
XI.--THE LOCAL SAINTS 62
XII.--A MONASTIC HOUSEHOLD 68
XIII.--A PILGRIM'S DAY 73
XIV.--PRAYER AND LABOR 78
XV.--BLACK CLERGY 84
XVI.--SACRIFICE 91
XVII.--MIRACLES 96
XVIII.--THE GREAT MIRACLE 103
XIX.--A CONVENT SPECTRE 110
XX.--STORY OF A GRAND DUKE 114
XXI.--DUNGEONS 118
XXII.--NICOLAS ILYIN 124
XXIII.--ADRIAN PUSHKIN 130
XXIV.--DISSENT 135
XXV.--NEW SECTS 142
XXVI.--MORE NEW SECTS 146
XXVII.--THE POPULAR CHURCH 151
XXVIII.--OLD BELIEVERS 158
XXIX.--A FAMILY OF OLD BELIEVERS 161
XXX.--CEMETERY OF THE TRANSFIGURATION 167
XXXI.--RAGOSKI 173
XXXII.--DISSENTING POLITICS 179
XXXIII.--CONCILIATION 183
XXXIV.--ROADS 187
XXXV.--A PEASANT POET 192
XXXVI.--FOREST SCENES 197
XXXVII.--PATRIARCHAL LIFE 202
XXXVIII.--VILLAGE REPUBLICS 208
XXXIX.--COMMUNISM 213
XL.--TOWNS 218
XLI.--KIEF 222
XLII.--PANSLAVONIA 225
XLIII.--EXILE 229
XLIV.--THE SIBERIANS 235
XLV.--ST. GEORGE 241
XLVI.--NOVGOROD THE GREAT 246
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Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
The Sandman's Hour
Stories _for_ Bedtime
By Abbie Phillips Walker
_Illustrated by_ Rhoda. C. Chase
Harper & Brothers, Publishers
[Illustration: Title page]
The Sandman's Hour
Copyright, 1917, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
*CONTENTS*
Where the Sparks Go
The Good Sea Monster
Mother Turkey and Her Chicks
The Fairies and the Dandelion
Mr. 'Possum
The Rooster That Crowed Too Soon
Tearful
Hilda's Mermaid
The Mirror's Dream
The Contest
The Pink and Blue Eggs
Why the Morning-Glory Sleeps
Dorothy and the
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AN
ADDRESS,
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
WAS-AH HO-DE-NO-SON-NE
OR
NEW CONFEDERACY OF THE IROQUOIS,
BY
HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,
A MEMBER:
AT ITS THIRD ANNUAL COUNCIL,
AUGUST 14, 1845.
ALSO,
GENUNDEWAH,
A POEM,
BY
W. H. C. HOSMER,
A MEMBER:
PRONOUNCED ON THE SAME OCCASION.
PUBLISHED BY THE CONFEDERACY.
ROCHESTER:
PRINTED BY JEROME & BROTHER, TALMAN BLOCK,
Sign of the American Eagle, Buffalo-Street.
1846.
ADDRESS.
GENTLEMEN:
In a country like ours, whose institutions rest on the popular will, we
must rely for our social and literary means and honors, exclusively on
personal exertions, springing from the bosom of society. We have no
external helps and reliances, sealed in expectations of public
patronage, held by the hands of executive, or ministerial power. Our
ancestors, it is true, were accustomed to such stimulants to literary
exertions. Titles and honors were the prerogatives of Kings, who
sometimes stooped from their political eminences, to bestow the reward
upon the brows of men, who had rendered their names conspicuous in the
fields of science and letters. Such is still the hope of men of letters
in England, Germany and France. But if a bold and hardy ancestry, who
had learned the art of thought in the bitter school of experience, were
accustomed to such dispensations of royal favors, while they remained in
Europe, they feel but little benefit from them here; and made no
provision for their exercise, as one of the immunities of powers, when
they came to set up the frame of a government for themselves.
No ruler, under our system, is invested with authority to tap, his
kneeling fellow subject on the crown of his head, and exclaim, "Arise,
Sir, Knight!" The cast of our institutions is all the other way, and the
tendency of things, as the public mind becomes settled and compacted,
is, to take away from men the prestige of names and titles; to award but
little, on the score of antiquarian merit, and to weigh every man's
powers and abilities, political and literary, in the scale of absolute
individual capacity, to be judged of, by the community at large. If
there are to be any "orders," in America, let us hope they will be like
that, whose institution we are met to celebrate, which is founded on the
principle of intellectual emulation, in the fields of history, science
and letters.
Such are, indeed, the objects which bring us together on the present
occasion, favored as we are in assembling around the light of this
emblematic COUNCIL FIRE. Honored by your notice, as an honorary member,
in your young institution, I may speak of it, as if I were myself a
fellow laborer, in your circle: and, at least, as one, understanding
somewhat of its plan, who feels a deep interest in its success.
Adopting one of the seats of the aboriginal powers, which once cast the
spell of its simple, yet complicated, government, over the territory, a
central point has been established HERE. To this central point,
symbolizing the whole scheme of the Iroquois system, other points of
subcentralization tend, as so many converging lines. You come from the
east and the west, the north and the south. You have obeyed ONE
impulse--followed ONE principle--come to unite your energies in ONE
object. That object is the cultivation of letters. To give it force and
distinctness, by which it may be known and distinguished among the
efforts made to improve and employ the leisure hours of the young men of
Western New York, you have adopted a name derived from the ancient
confederacy of the Iroquois, who once occupied this soil. With the name,
you have taken the general system of organization of society, within a
society, held together by one bond. That bond, as existing in the
TOTEMIC tie, reaches, with a peculiar force, each individual, in such
society. It is an idea noble in itself, and worthy of the thought and
care, by which it has been nurtured and moulded into its present
auspicious form.--The union you thus form, is a union of minds. It is a
band of brotherhood, but a brotherhood of letters. It is a confederacy
of tribes, but a literary conf
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THE SEVEN CARDINAL SINS
AVARICE
[Illustration: "_Axe in hand._"
Original etching by Adrian Marcel.]
Illustrated Cabinet Edition
Avarice--Anger
Two of the Seven Cardinal Sins
By Eugene Sue
Illustrated with Etchings by
Adrian Marcel
Dana Estes & Company
Publishers
Boston
_Copyright, 1899_
BY FRANCIS A. NICCOLLS & CO.
Avarice--Anger
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
AVARICE.
I. AN UNFORTUNATE CHOICE 13
II. A TOUCHING EXAMPLE OF UNSELFISH DEVOTION 25
III. A SHAMEFUL DECEPTION 36
IV. THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER 46
V. FATHER AND SON 57
VI. A FATHER'S AMBITION 65
VII. THE FORGED LETTER 72
VIII. A STARTLING DISCOVERY 78
IX. COMMANDANT DE LA MIRAUDIERE'S ANTECEDENTS 86
X. THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED 97
XI. HIDDEN TREASURE 106
XII. A VOICE FROM THE GRAVE 113
XIII. THE MISER EXTOLLED 118
XIV. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 122
XV. MADAME LACOMBE'S UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER 126
XVI. A CAPRICIOUS BEAUTY 132
XVII. THE HOTEL SAINT-RAMON 139
XVIII. A NOVEL ENTERTAINMENT 146
XIX. A CHANGE OF OWNERS 152
XX. THE RETURN 159
XXI. THE AWAKENING 166
ANGER.
I. THE DUEL 177
II. ANOTHER EBULLITION OF TEMPER 186
III. THE WARNING 194
IV. "THOSE WHOM THE GODS DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD" 199
V. DEADLY ENMITY 208
VI. A CUNNING SCHEME 217
VII. HOME PLEASURES 225
VIII. THE CAPTAIN'S NARRATIVE 234
IX. CONCLUSION OF THE CAPTAIN'S NARRATIVE 240
X. SEGOFFIN'S DISSIMULATION 248
XI. SABINE'S CONFESSION 255
XII. SUZANNE'S ENLIGHTENMENT 265
XIII. ONESIME'S CONQUEST 271
XIV. ARGUMENTS FOR AND AGAINST 279
XV. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 287
XVI. SEGOFFIN'S RUSE 294
XVII. THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER 302
XVIII. "MY MOTHER'S MURDERER STILL LIVES!" 309
XIX. AFTER THE STORM 316
XX. THE MIDNIGHT ATTACK 322
XXI. A LAST APPEAL 329
XXII. CONCLUSION 338
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
"AXE IN HAND" _Frontispiece_
"'GO AWAY AND LET ME ALONE'" 53
"'MY STAR HAS NOT DESERTED ME'" 155
"SEVERAL MEN RUSHED UPON HIM" 236
Avarice and Anger.
THE MILLIONAIRES
AVARICE.
CHAPTER I.
AN UNFORTUNATE CHOICE.
The narrow street known for many long years as the Charnier des
Innocents (the Charnel-house of the Innocents), near the market, has
always been noted for the large number of scriveners who have
established their booths in this densely populated part of Paris.
One fine morning in the month of May, 18--, a young girl about eighteen
years of age, who was clad in working dress, and whose charming though
melancholy face wore that peculiar pallor which seems to be a sort of
sinister reflection of poverty, was walking thoughtfully down the
Charnier des Innocents. Several times she paused as if in doubt in front
of as many scriveners' booths, but either because the proprietors seemed
too young or too unprepossessing in appearance or too busy, she went
slowly on again.
Seeing, in the doorway of the last booth, an old man with a face as good
and kind as it was venerable, the young girl did not hesitate to enter
the modest little establishment.
The scrivener, struck in his turn by the young girl's remarkable beauty
and modest bearing, as well as her timid and melancholy air, greeted her
with almost paternal affability as she entered his shop, after which he
closed the door; then drawing the curtain of the little window, the good
man motioned his client to a seat, while he took possession of his old
leather armchair.
Mariette--for that was the young girl's name--lowered her big blue eyes,
blushed deeply, and maintained an embarrassed
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[Illustration: FORWARD HE HURLED HIMSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH THE AIR.]
FOR THE HONOR OF
RANDALL
A Story of College Athletics
BY
LESTER CHADWICK
AUTHOR OF "THE RIVAL PITCHERS," "A QUARTER-BACK'S
PLUCK," "BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
=BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK=
=THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES=
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
THE RIVAL PITCHERS
A Story of College Baseball
A QUARTER-BACK'S PLUCK
A Story of College Football
BATTING TO WIN
A Story of College Baseball
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN
A Story of College Football
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL
A Story of College Athletics
=THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES=
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS
Or The Rivals of Riverside
BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE
Or Pitching for the Blue Banner
(Other volumes in preparation)
_Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_
Copyright, 1912, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A PERILOUS RIDE 1
II BAD NEWS FROM HOME 15
III WHEN SPRING COMES 27
IV THE NEW FELLOW 34
V
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http://www.pgdp.net.
[Illustration: TOM SPEEDILY GAVE THE CALL TO THE STATION AT THE
DIXON PLACE.]
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
Or
A Stirring Rescue from the Deep
BY
FRANK V. WEBSTER
AUTHOR OF "AIRSHIP ANDY," "COMRADES OF THE SADDLE,"
"BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE," "BOB THE CASTAWAY," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
BOOKS FOR BOYS
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
ONLY A FARM BOY
TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH
THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER
BOB, THE CASTAWAY
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES
THE TWO BOY GOLD MINERS
JACK, THE RUNAWAY
COMRADES OF THE SADDLE
THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL
THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS
BOB CHESTER'S GRIT
AIRSHIP ANDY
DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER
DICK, THE BANK BOY
BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
HARRY WATSON'S HIGH SCHOOL DAYS
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York
Copyright, 1912, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
Contents
- CHAPTER I--TOM BARNES' WIRELESS
- CHAPTER II--STATION Z
- CHAPTER III--"SPOOKS!"
- CHAPTER IV--"DONNER"
- CHAPTER V--A BOY WITH A MYSTERY
- CHAPTER VI--A TIP VIA WIRELESS
- CHAPTER VII--GRACE MORGAN
- CHAPTER VIII--QUICK ACTION
- CHAPTER IX--STRICTLY BUSINESS
- CHAPTER X--A YOUNG CAPITALIST
- CHAPTER XI--A GREAT STEP FORWARD
- CHAPTER XII--"SUN, MOON AND STARS"
- CHAPTER XIII--THE BLACK CAPS
- CHAPTER XIV--TURNING THE TABLES
- CHAPTER XV--AN UNEXPECTED RESCUER
- CHAPTER XVI--KIDNAPPED
- CHAPTER XVII--UP TO MISCHIEF
- CHAPTER XVIII--THE TOY BALLOONS
- CHAPTER XIX--A STARTLING MESSAGE
- CHAPTER XX--THE LAUNCH
- CHAPTER XXI--BRAVING THE STORM
- CHAPTER XXII--THE RESCUE
- CHAPTER XXIII--"EVERY INCH A MAN"
- CHAPTER XXIV--THE KIDNAPPED BOY
- CHAPTER XXV--TOM ON THE TRAIL--CONCLUSION
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
CHAPTER I--TOM BARNES' WIRELESS
"What's that new-fangled thing on the blasted oak, Tom?"
"That, Ben, is a wireless."
"Oh, you don't say so!"
"Or, rather the start of one."
"Say, you aren't original or ambitious or anything like that, are you?"
The speaker, Ben Dixon, bestowed a look of admiration and interest on
the chum he liked best of all in the world, Tom Barnes.
Tom was reckoned a genius in the little community in which he lived. He
had the record of "always being up to something." In the present
instance he had been up a tree, it seemed. From "the new-fangled thing"
Ben had discovered in passing the familiar landmark, the blasted oak,
wires and rods ran up to quite a height, showing that some one had done
some climbing.
Ben became instantly absorbed in an inspection of the contrivance before
him. He himself had some mechanical talent. His father had been an
inventor in a small way, and anything in which Tom had a part always
attracted him.
"Tell me about it. What's that thing up there?" asked Ben, pointing
directly at some metal rods attached to the broken-off top of the tree.
"Those are antennae."
"Looks like an--twenty!" chuckled Ben over his own joke. "There's a
whole network of them, isn't there?"
"They run down to a relay, Ben, catching the electric waves striking the
decoherer, which taps the coherer and disarranges a lot of brass filings
by mechanical vibration. That's the whole essence of the
wireless--otherwise it is no different from common telegraphy--a group
of parts each for individual service in transmitting or receiving the
electric waves."
"Thank you!" observed Ben drily. "How delightfully plain that all is!
You rattle those scientific terms off good and spry, though."
"So will you, as soon as you do what I've been doing," asserted Tom.
"And what's that?"
"Getting a glance at the real wireless outfit Mr. Edson is operating
down at Sandy Point."
"I heard of that," nodded Ben.
"He's a fine man," said Tom enthusiastically. "He's taken all kinds of
trouble to post me and explain things I wanted to know. This little side
show of mine is just an experiment on a small scale. I don't expect any
grand results. It will work out the principle, though, and when I get to
taking messages----"
"What! you don't mean to say you can do that?"
"Just that, Ben," declared Tom confidently.
"From where?"
"Well, mostly from Mr. Edson's station at Sandy Point, and maybe some
stray ones that may slip past him."
"Say!" cried Ben, on fire at once with emulation and optimism, "what's
the matter with me starting a station, too, down at my house? Then we
could have all kinds of fun over our line."
"It isn't much work nor expense," said Tom. "You can get an outfit cheap
for a home-made apparatus--you need some coarse and fine wire for the
main coil, a glass tube, a bell, sounder and a buzzer, some
electromagnets----"
"I see," interrupted Ben with a mock groan, "just a few things picked up
anywhere. Oh, yes!"
"You won't be discouraged once you get interested, Ben," assured Tom.
"We'll talk about your starting a station later. Just now you can help
me quite a bit if you want to."
"Sure!" returned the enterprising Ben with vim.
"All right; I want to string a coil of new wire I got yesterday,"
explained Tom, going around to the other side of the tree. "Why, it's
gone!" he cried.
"What's gone?" queried Ben.
"The wire. Now, isn't that a shame!" cried Tom indignantly, fussing
around among the grass and bushes. "That coil couldn't have walked away.
Some one must have stolen it."
"Don't be too hasty, Tom. Some one passing by may have picked it up. You
know the fellows are playing ball over in the meadow just beyond here.
Some of them may have cut across and stumbled over your wire."
"Couldn't they see that I was putting up a station here?" demanded Tom
with asperity.
"Station?" repeated Ben with a jolly laugh. "See here, old fellow, you
forget that we scientific numbskulls wouldn't know your contrivance here
from a clothes dryer."
"Well, come on, anyway. I've got to find that wire," said Tom with
determination.
In the distance they could hear the shouts of boys at play, and passing
through some brushwood they came to the edge of the open meadow lining
the river.
Half a dozen boys were engaged in various pastimes. Two of them playing
at catch greeted Tom with enthusiasm.
There was no boy at Rockley Cove more popular than Tom Barnes. His
father had farmed it, as the saying goes, at the edge of the little
village for over a quarter of a century. While Mr. Barnes was not
exactly a wealthy man he made a good living, and Tom dressed pretty
well, and was kept at school right along. Now it was vacation time, and
outside of a few chores about the house morning and evening Tom's time
was his own.
The result was that usually Tom had abundant leisure for sports. The
welcome with which his advent was hailed therefore, was quite natural.
"I say, Tom," suddenly spoke Ben, seizing the arm of his companion in
some excitement, "there's Mart Walters."
"Ah, he's here, is he?" exclaimed Tom, and started rapidly across the
meadow to where a crowd of boys were grouped about a diving plank
running out over the stream. "I'm bothered about that missing coil, but
I guess I can take time to attend to Walters."
The boy he alluded to was talking to several companions as Tom and Ben
came up. His back was to the newcomers and he did not see them approach.
Mart Walters was a <DW2> and a braggart. Tom noticed that he was arrayed
in his best, and his first overheard words announced that he was
bragging as usual.
Mart was explaining to a credulous audience some of the wonderful feats
in diving and swimming he had engaged in during a recent stay in Boston.
With a good deal of boastful pride he alluded to a friend, Bert Aldrich,
whose father was a part owner of a big city natatorium. Tom interrupted
his bombast unceremoniously by suddenly appearing directly in front of
the boaster.
"Hello, Mart Walters," he hailed in a sort of aggressive way.
"Hello yourself," retorted Mart, with a slight uneasiness of manner.
"I've been looking for you," said Tom bluntly.
"Have?"
"Yes, ever since I heard some criticisms of yours yesterday on my
bungling swimming."
"Oh, I didn't say much," declared Mart evasively.
"You said enough to make the crowd believe you could beat me all hollow
at diving."
"Well," flustered Mart desperately, "I can."
"Want to prove that?" challenged Tom sharply.
"Some time."
"Why not now? We're all here and the water is fine. We'll make it a dash
for the half-mile fence and return, under water test, somersaults and
diving."
Mart had begun to retreat. He flushed and stammered. Finally he blurted
out:
"I'm due now at Morgan's with a message from my folks."
"You haven't seemed in a hurry," suggested Ben.
"Well, I am now."
"Yes, might muss your collar if you got wet!" sneered a fellow in the
crowd.
"All right," said Tom, "when will you be back?"
"Can't say," declared Mart. "You see, I don't know how long I may be."
He started off, flushed and sheep-faced under the critical gaze of the
crowd. As he did so Tom noticed that he had something in his hand.
"Here!" he cried, "where did you get that?"
Tom had discovered his missing coil of wire. His hand seized it. Mart's
did not let go. The latter gave a jerk, Tom a twist.
"That's mine," Tom said simply. "You took it from where I was stringing
up my wireless."
"I found it," shouted Mart, thoroughly infuriated in being crossed in
any of his plans. "It was kicking around loose. I'll have it too--take
that!"
He came at Tom so suddenly that the latter, unprepared for the attack,
went swinging to the ground under a dizzying blow.
It looked as if Mart was about to follow up the assault with a kick. Tom
offset that peril with a dextrous maneuvre.
Seated flat, he spun about like a top. His feet met the ankles of the
onrushing Mart.
Mart stumbled, tripped and slipped. He tried to catch himself, lost his
balance, fell backward, and the next instant went headlong into the
water with a resounding splash.
CHAPTER II--STATION Z
A yell of derisive delight went up from the smaller youths of the crowd
as Mart Walters went toppling into the water. Mart did not have a real
friend in Rockley Cove, and the little fellows Welcomed an opportunity
for showing their dislike.
Tom, however, promptly on his feet was making for the spot where Mart
was puffing and splashing about, when two of his friends in bathing
attire anticipated his helpful action, reached Mart, and led him,
blinded and dripping, onto dry land.
Mart was a sight. All the starch was taken out of him, and out of his
clothes. He did not linger to renew the conflict. He only shook his fist
at Tom with the half Whimpered words:
"I'll fix you, Tom Barnes, see if I don't! This will be a sorry day for
you."
"Who started it?" demanded Tom bluntly.
"I'll get even with you for this treatment," threatened Mart direfully,
sneaking off.
"You've made an enemy for life of that fellow, Tom," declared Ben.
"Well, he never was very friendly towards me," responded Tom. "Where's
the wire? I've got it," and he picked it up from the ground where it had
dropped. "I'm sorry this thing occurred, but he brought it on himself.
Come on, Ben."
"You're going to stay and have some fun, aren't you, Tom?" inquired one
of the swimmers.
"Can't, boys--that is, just now. I've got something to attend to. See
you again."
Tom and Ben had not proceeded fifty feet, however, when a hurried call
halted them. Tom's younger brother came running towards them.
"Oh, Tom!" he hailed breathlessly, "I've run all the way from the house.
I've got a message for you."
"What is it, Ted?"
"Mr. Edson was passing the house and told me to find you and ask you to
come down to the tower as soon as you could."
"All right, Ted," replied Tom. "I wonder what's up?"
"Why?" questioned Ben.
"I saw Mr. Edson early this morning down at the Point, and thought I'd
got him to talk himself out for a week to come asking him so many
questions about the wireless."
"Are you going to drop rigging out your plant at the old oak till you
see him?"
"We'll have to. It may be something important Mr. Edson wants to see me
about. You come too, Ben."
"Had I better?"
"You want to, don't you?"
"Well, I guess!" replied Ben with undisguised fervor. "I've envied the
way he's posting you in this wireless ever since I first saw his
outfit."
The boys pursued their way to Sandy Point, passing the old blasted oak.
Here Tom took pains to stow the coil of wire safely in a tree. Resuming
their walk they neared Sandy Point twenty minutes later.
The Point was a high but level stretch of shore with one or two small
houses in its vicinity. It was really a part of Rockley Cove, but the
center of the village was half a mile inland.
A high metal framework designated the Point, and could be seen from
quite a distance. This, however, was no recent construction nor a beacon
point, nor originally erected for its present use as a wireless station.
It had served as a windmill for a farmer who once operated an
eighty-acre tract of land. One night his house and barns burned down.
For years the spot was abandoned. Recently, however, the Mr. Edson Tom
had alluded to had come to Rockley Cove and established "Station Z" at
the old windmill.
He had built a room or tower as he called it midway up the windmill
structure. This was reached through a trap door by a fixed iron ladder.
The height and open construction of the windmill enabled the setting of
upper wireless paraphernalia in a fine way, and the whole layout was
found especially serviceable in carrying out Mr. Edson's ideas.
The operator was at the window of the little operating room he had
built, and waved a cheery welcome to his two young friends. Tom and Ben
were up the ladder speedily and through the trap door.
"Did you send for me, Mr. Edson?" inquired Tom.
"Yes, Tom," replied the operator, "and I'm glad you came so promptly.
I've got to leave Rockley Cove on short notice."
"Oh, Mr. Edson, I am very sorry for that!" declared Tom.
"I regret it too, especially so far as you are concerned," admitted Mr.
Edson.
"I was getting on finely," said Tom in a disappointed tone.
"No reason why you shouldn't continue," declared the operator
encouragingly. "You have been strictly business all along, Tom. I want
to commend you for it, and I have sent for you to make you a business
proposition."
"A proposition?" repeated Tom wonderingly.
"Yes. You have got so that there is very little about the outfit here
that you do not understand. The transmitting and receiving end of it is
old history to you. In fact I am going to leave you here in entire
charge of the station."
"Oh, Mr. Edson!" exclaimed Tom, "I am afraid you rate me too highly."
"Not at all. You have got sense, patience, and you want to learn. As you
know, my starting the station here was a private enterprise, but it was
no idle fad. I expected to work something practicable and profitable out
of it. You can carry on the work."
"Why are you giving it up, sir, if I may ask?"
"I received a letter only an hour since, with an unexpected offer of a
very fine position with one of the operating wireless companies in
Canada. They expect me at a conference in New York City Friday, and I do
not doubt that I shall close an engagement with them. As I have told
you, I have very little capital. In fact, about all my surplus has been
invested in the station here."
Ben was looking around the place with his usual devouring glance. Tom
felt that some important disclosure was about to be made and was duly
impressed.
"There is a good chance for a live young fellow in a business that can
send a message hundreds of miles in a few seconds," continued Mr. Edson.
"The business is now only in its infancy, and those who get in first
have the best chance. The only hope here of the international circuit is
to make a killing."
"What do you mean by a killing, Mr. Edson?" inquired the big-eyed,
interested Ben.
"C
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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HERBALS
THEIR ORIGIN AND EVOLUTION
A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF BOTANY
1470-1670
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
London: FETTER LANE, E.C.
C. F. CLAY, Manager
[Illustration]
Edinburgh: 100, PRINCES STREET
London: WILLIAM WESLEY & SON, 28, ESSEX STREET, STRAND
Berlin: A. ASHER & CO.
Leipzig: F. A. BROCKHAUS
New York: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
_All rights reserved_
[Illustration: LEONHARD FUCHS (1501-1566).
[Engraving by Speckle in _De historia stirpium_, 1542.]]
HERBALS
THEIR ORIGIN AND EVOLUTION
A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF BOTANY
1470-1670
BY
AGNES ARBER
(MRS. E. A. NEWELL ARBER)
D.Sc., F.L.S., FELLOW OF NEWNHAM COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
AND OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON
Cambridge:
at the University Press
1912
Cambridge:
PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
TO MY FATHER
H. R. ROBERTSON
"Wherefore it maye please your... gentlenes to take these my labours
in good worthe, not according unto their unworthines, but accordinge
unto my good mind and will, offering and gevinge them unto you."
WILLIAM TURNER'S _Herbal_, 1568.
PREFACE
To add a volume such as the present to the existing multitude of books
about books calls for some apology. My excuse must be that many of the
best herbals, especially the earlier ones, are not easily accessible,
and after experiencing keen delight from them myself, I have felt
that some account of these works, in connection with reproductions of
typical illustrations, might be of interest to others. In the words of
Henry Lyte, the translator of Dodoens, "I thinke it sufficient for any,
whom reason may satisfie, by way of answeare to alleage this action and
sententious position: _Bonum, quo communius, eo melius et praestantius_:
a good thing the more common it is, the better it is."
The main object of the present book is to trace in outline the
evolution of the _printed herbal_ in Europe between the years 1470 and
1670, primarily from a botanical, and secondarily from an artistic
standpoint. The medical aspect, which could only be dealt with
satisfactorily by a specialist in that science, I have practically
left untouched, as also the gardening literature of the period.
Bibliographical information is not given in detail, except in so
far as it subserves the main objects of the book. Even within these
limitations, the present account is far from being an exhaustive
monograph. It aims merely at presenting a general sketch of the history
of the herbal during a period of two hundred years. The titles of the
principal botanical works, which were published between 1470 and 1670,
are given in Appendix I.
The book is founded mainly upon a study of the herbals themselves. My
attention was first directed to these works by reading a copy of Lyte's
translation of Dodoens' Herbal, which happened to come into my hands
in 1894, and at once aroused my interest in the subject. I have also
drawn freely upon the historical and critical literature dealing with
the period under consideration, to which full references will be found
in Appendix II. The materials for this work have chiefly been obtained
in the Printed Books Department of the British Museum, but I have also
made use of a number of other libraries. I owe many thanks to Prof.
Seward, F.R.S., who suggested that I should undertake this book, and
gave me special facilities for the study of the fine collection of old
botanical works in the Botany School, Cambridge. In addition I must
record my gratitude to the University Librarian, Mr F. J. H. Jenkinson,
M.A., and Mr C. E. Sayle, M.A., of the Cambridge University Library,
and also to Dr Stapf, Keeper of the Kew Herbarium and Library. By the
kindness of Dr Norman Moore, Harveian Librarian to the Royal College
of Physicians, I have had access to that splendid library, and my best
thanks are due to him, and to the Assistant-Librarian, Mr Barlow. To
the latter I am especially indebted for information on bibliographical
| 679.867071 | 3,264 |
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Dore Lectures on Mental Science, by Thomas Troward
THE DORE LECTURES ON MENTAL SCIENCE
by Thomas Troward
ENTERING INTO THE SPIRIT OF IT
INDIVIDUALITY
THE NEW THOUGHT AND THE NEW ORDER
THE LIPS OF THE SPIRIT
ALPHA AND OMEGA
THE CREATIVE POWER OF THOUGHT
THE GREAT AFFIRMATIVE
CHRIST THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW
THE STORY OF EDEN
THE WORSHIP OF ISHI
THE SHEPHERD AND THE STONE
SALVATION IS OF THE JEWS
FOREWORD.
The addresses contained in this volume were delivered by me at
the Dore Gallery, Bond Street, London, on the Sundays of the
first three months of the present year, and are now published at
the kind request of many of my hearers, hence their title of "The
Dore Lectures." A number of separate discourses on a variety of
subjects necessarily labours under the disadvantage of want of
continuity, and also under that of a liability to the frequent
repetition of similar ideas and expressions, and the reader will,
I trust, pardon these defects as inherent in the circumstances of
the work. At the same time it will be found that, although not
specially so designed, there is a certain progressive development
of thought through the dozen lectures which compose this volume,
the reason for which is that they all aim at expressing the same
fundamental idea, namely that, though the laws of the universe
can never be broken, they can be made to work under special
conditions which will produce results that could not be produced
under the conditions spontaneously provided by nature. This is a
simple scientific principle and it shows us the place which is
occupied by the personal factor, that, namely, of an intelligence
which sees beyond the present limited manifestation of the Law
into its real essence, and which thus constitutes the
instru-mentality by which the infinite possibilities of the Law
can be evoked into forms of power, usefulness, and beauty.
The more perfect, therefore, the working of the personal factor,
the greater will be the results developed from the Universal Law;
and hence our lines of study should be two-fold--on the one hand
the theoretical study of the action of Universal Law, and on the
other the practical fitting of ourselves to make use of it; and
if the present volume should assist any reader in this two-fold
quest, it will have answered its purpose.
The different subjects have necessarily been treated very
briefly, and the addresses can only be considered as suggestions
for lines of thought which the reader will be able to work out
for himself, and he must therefore not expect that careful
elabora-tion of detail which I would gladly have bestowed had I
been writing on one of these subjects exclusively. This little
book must be taken only for what it is, the record of somewhat
fragmentary talks with a very indulgent audience, to whom I
gratefully dedicate the volume.
JUNE 5, 1909.
T.T.
THE DORE LECTURES
ENTERING INTO THE SPIRIT OF IT.
We all know the meaning of this phrase in our everyday life. The
Spirit is that which gives life and movement to anything, in fact
it is that which causes it to exist at all. The thought of the
author, the impression of the painter, the feeling of the
musician, is that without which their works could never have come
into being, and so it is only as we enter into the IDEA which
gives rise to the work, that we can derive all the enjoyment and
benefit from it which it is able to bestow. If we cannot enter
into the Spirit of it, the book, the picture, the music, are
meaningless to us: to appreciate them we must share the mental
attitude of their creator. This is a universal principle; if we
do not enter into the Spirit of a thing, it is dead so far as we
are concerned; but if we do enter into it we reproduce in
ourselves the same quality of life which called that thing into
existence.
Now if this is a general principle, why can we not carry it to a
higher range of things? Why not to the highest point of all? May
we not enter into the originating Spirit of Life itself, and so
reproduce it in ourselves as a perennial spring of livingness?
This, surely, is a question worthy of our careful consideration.
The spirit of a thing is that which is the source of its inherent
movement, and therefore the question before us is, what is the
nature of the primal moving power, which is at the back of the
endless array of life which we see around us, our own life
included? Science gives us ample ground for saying that it is not
material, for science has now, at least theoretically, reduced
all material things to a primary ether, universally distributed,
whose innumerable particles are in absolute equilibrium; whence
it follows on mathematical grounds alone that the initial
movement which began to concentrate the world and all material
substances out of the particles of the dispersed ether, could not
have originated in the particles themselves. Thus by a necessary
deduction from the conclusions of physical science, we are
compelled to realize the presence of some immaterial power
capable of separating off certain specific areas for the display
of cosmic activity, and then building up a material universe with
all its inhabitants by an orderly sequence of evolution, in which
each stage lays the foundation for the development of the stage,
which is to follow--in a word we find ourselves brought face to
face with a power which exhibits on a stupendous scale, the
faculties of selection and adaptation of means to ends, and thus
distributes energy and life in accordance with a recognizable
scheme of cosmic progression. It is therefore not only Life, but
also Intelligence, and Life guided by Intelligence becomes
Volition. It is this primary originating power which we mean when
we speak of "The Spirit," and it is into this Spirit of the whole
universe that we must enter if we would reproduce it as a spring
of Original Life in ourselves.
Now in the case of the productions of artistic genius we know
that we must enter into the movement of the creative mind of the
artist, before we can realize the principle which gives rise to
his work. We must learn to partake of the feeling, to find
expression for which is the motive of his creative activity. May
we not apply the same principle to the Greater Creative Mind with
which we are seeking to deal? There is something in the work of
the artist which is akin to that of original creation. His work,
literary, musical, or graphic is original creation on a miniature
scale, and in this it differs from that of the engineer, which is
constructive, or that of the scientist which is analytical; for
the artist in a sense creates something out of nothing, and
therefore starts from the stand-point of simple feeling, and not
from that of a pre-existing necessity. This, by the hypothesis of
the case, is true also of the Parent Mind, for at the stage where
the
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VOLUME 147, AUGUST 12, 1914***
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
VOL. 147
AUGUST 12, 1914
CHARIVARIA.
A gentleman with a foreign name who was arrested in the neighbourhood of
the Tyne shipyards last week with measuring gauges and a map in his
possession explained, on being charged, that he was looking for work. It
is possible that some hard labour may be found for him.
* * *
"Members of Parliament will not suffer," was the comfortable statement
of Mr. JOSIAH WEDGWOOD during a speech on the subject of the War. As a
matter of fact, owing to the French cooks employed at the House of
Commons having returned to their country, the _menu_ at the House will
have to consist, until the end of the session, of plain English fare.
* * *
The foresight of the British Public in refusing to subscribe the large
amount of money asked of them for the Olympic Sports in Berlin is now
apparent.
* * *
Although still under twenty-one years of age, and therefore not yet
liable for military service, GEORGES CARPENTIER has gallantly joined the
colours as a volunteer. It would be pleasant if he and the Russian
H
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BRITISH POLITICAL LEADERS
* * * * *
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
IN THE
"Story of the Nations" Series.
Each volume large crown 8vo, cloth, fully Illustrated, 5s.
MODERN ENGLAND BEFORE THE REFORM BILL.
MODERN ENGLAND UNDER QUEEN VICTORIA.
_IN PREPARATION._
PORTRAITS OF THE SIXTIES.
Demy 8vo, cloth, Illustrated, 16s.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Photograph copyright by Elliott & Fry
ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR]
BRITISH POLITICAL LEADERS
by
JUSTIN McCARTHY
With Portraits
[Illustration]
London
T. Fisher Unwin
Paternoster Square
1903
[All rights reserved.]
CONTENTS
1. ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR 1
2. LORD SALISBURY 25
3. LORD ROSEBERY 49
4. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN 73
5. HENRY LABOUCHERE 99
6. JOHN MORLEY 125
7. LORD ABERDEEN 151
8. JOHN BURNS 177
9. SIR MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH 203
10. JOHN E. REDMOND 229
11. SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT 255
12. JAMES BRYCE 281
13. SIR HENRY CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN 307
ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR
My first acquaintance with Mr. Arthur J. Balfour, who recently became
Prime Minister of King Edward VII., was made in the earliest days of my
experience as a member of the House of Commons. The Fourth party, as it
was called, had just been formed under the inspiration of the late Lord
Randolph Churchill. The Fourth party was a new political enterprise. The
House of Commons up to that time contained three regular and recognized
political parties--the supporters of the Government, the supporters of
the Opposition, and the members of the Irish Nationalist party, of whom
I was one. Lord Randolph Churchill created a Fourth party, the business
of which was to act independently alike of the Government, the
Opposition, and the Irish Nationalists. At the time when I entered
Parliament the Conservatives were in power, and Conservative statesmen
occupied the Treasury Bench. The members of Lord Randolph's party were
all Conservatives so far as general political principles were concerned,
but Lord Randolph's idea was to lead a number of followers who should be
prepared and ready to speak and vote against any Government proposal
which they believed to be too conservative or not conservative enough;
to support the Liberal Opposition in the rare cases when they thought
the Opposition was in the right; and to support the Irish Nationalists
when they believed that these were unfairly dealt with, or when they
believed, which happened much more frequently, that to support the
Irishmen would be an annoyance to the party in power.
The Fourth party was made up of numbers exactly corresponding with the
title which had been given to it. Four men, including the leader,
constituted the whole strength of this little army. These men were Lord
Randolph Churchill, Arthur J. Balfour, John Gorst (now Sir John Gorst),
and Sir Henry Drummond Wolff, who has during more recent years withdrawn
altogether from parliamentary life and given himself up to diplomacy, in
which he has won much honorable distinction. Sir John Gorst has recently
held office in the Government, and is believed to have given and felt
little satisfaction in his official career. He is a man of great ability
and acquirements, but these have been somewhat thrown away in the
business of administration.
The Fourth Party certainly did much to make the House of Commons a
lively place. Its members were always in attendance--the whole four of
them--and no one ever knew where, metaphorically, to place them. They
professed and made manifest open scorn for the conventionalities of
party life, and the parliamentary whips never knew when they could be
regarded as supporters or opponents. They were all effective debaters,
all ready with sarcasm and invective, all sworn foes to dullness and
routine, all delighting in any opportunity for obstructing and
bewildering the party which happened to be in power. The members of the
Fourth party had each of them a distinct individuality, although they
invariably acted together and were never separated in the division
lobbies. A member of the House of Commons likened them once in a speech
to D'Artagnan and his Three Musketeers, as pictured in the immortal
pages of the elder Dumas. John Gorst he described as Porthos, Sir Henry
Drummond Wolff as Athos, and Arthur Balfour as the sleek and subtle
Aramis. When I entered Parliament I was brought much into companionship
with the members of this interesting Fourth party. One reason for this
habit of intercourse was that we sat very near to one another on the
benches of the House. The members of the Irish Nationalist party then,
as now, always sat on the side of the Opposition, no matter what
Government happened to be in power, for the principle of the Irish
Nationalists is to regard themselves as in perpetual opposition to every
Government so long as Ireland is deprived of her own national
legislature. Soon after I entered the House a Liberal Government was the
result of a general election, and the Fourth party, as habitually
conservative, sat on the Opposition benches. The Fourth party gave
frequent support to the Irish Nationalists in their endeavors to resist
and obstruct Government measures, and we therefore came into habitual
intercourse, and even comradeship, with Lord Randolph Churchill and his
small band of followers.
Arthur Balfour bore little resemblance, in appearance, in manners, in
debating qualities, and apparently in mould of intellect, to any of the
three men with whom he was then constantly allied. He was tall,
slender, pale, graceful, with something of an almost feminine
attractiveness in his bearing, although he was as ready, resolute, and
stubborn a fighter as any one of his companions in arms. He had the
appearance and the ways of a thoughtful student and scholar, and one
would have associated him rather with a college library or a professor's
chair than with the rough and boisterous ways of the House of Commons.
He seemed to have come from another world of thought and feeling into
that eager, vehement, and sometimes rather uproarious political
assembly. Unlike his uncle, Lord Salisbury, he was known to enjoy social
life, but he was especially given to that select order of aesthetic
social life which was "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," a
form of life which was rather fashionable in society just then. But it
must have been clear even to the most superficial observer that he had a
decided gift of parliamentary capacity. He was a fluent and a ready
speaker and could bear an effective part in any debate at a moment's
notice, but he never declaimed, never indulged in any flight of
eloquence, and seldom raised his clear and musical voice much above the
conversational pitch. His choice of language was always happy and
telling, and he often expressed himself in characteristic phrases which
lived in the memory and passed into familiar quotation. He had won some
distinction as a writer by his "Defense of Philosophic Doubt," by a
volume of "Essays and Addresses," and more lately by his work entitled
"The Foundations of Belief." The first and last of these books were
inspired by a graceful and easy skepticism which had in it nothing
particularly destructive to the faith of any believer, but aimed only at
the not difficult task of proving that a doubting ingenuity can raise
curious cavils from the practical and argumentative point of view
against one creed as well as against another. The world did not take
these skeptical ventures very seriously, and they were for the most part
regarded as the attempts of a clever young man to show how much more
clever he was than the ordinary run of believing mortals. Balfour's
style was clear and vigorous, and people read the essays because of the
writer's growing position in political life, and out of curiosity to see
how the rising young statesman could display himself as the avowed
advocate of philosophic skepticism.
Arthur Balfour took a conspicuous part in the attack made upon the
Liberal Government in 1882 on the subject of the once famous Kilmainham
Treaty. The action which he took in this instance was avowedly inspired
by a desire to embarrass and oppose the Government because of the
compromise into which it had endeavored to enter with Charles Stewart
Parnell for some terms of agreement as to the manner in which
legislation in Ireland ought to be administered. The full history of
what was called the Kilmainham Treaty has not, so far as I know, been
ever correctly given to the public, and it is not necessary, when
surveying the political career of Mr. Balfour, to enter into any
lengthened explanation on the subject. Mr. Parnell was in prison at the
time when the arrangement was begun, and those who were in his
confidence were well aware that he was becoming greatly alarmed as to
the state of Ireland under the rule of the late W. E. Forster, who was
then Chief Secretary to the Lord Lieutenant, and under whose operations
leading Irishmen were thrown into prison on no definite charge, but
because their general conduct left them open in the mind of the Chief
Secretary to the suspicion that their public agitation was likely to
bring about a rebellious movement. Parnell began to fear that the state
of the country would become worse and worse if every popular movement
were to be forcibly repressed at the time when the leaders in whom the
Irish people had full confidence were kept in prison and their guidance,
control, and authority withdrawn from the work of pacification. The
proposed arrangement, whether begun by Mr. Parnell himself or suggested
to him by members of his own party or of the English Radical party, was
simply an understanding that if the leading Irishmen were allowed to
return to their public work the country might at least be kept in peace
while English Liberalism was devising some measures for the better
government of Ireland. The arrangement was in every sense creditable
alike to Parnell and to the English Liberals who were anxious to
cooperate with him in such a purpose. But it led to some disturbance in
Mr. Gladstone's government and to Mr. Forster's resignation of his
office. In 1885, when the Conservatives again came into power and formed
a government, Balfour was appointed President of the Local Government
Board and afterwards became Chief Secretary to the Lord Lieutenant--in
other words, Chief Secretary for Ireland. He had to attempt a difficult,
or rather, it should be said, an impossible task, and he got through it
about as well as, or as badly as, any other man could have done whose
appointed mission was to govern Ireland on Tory principles for the
interests of the landlords and by the policy of coercion.
Balfour, it should be said, was never, even at that time, actually
unpopular with the Irish National party. We all understood quite well
that his own heart did not go with the sort of administrative work which
was put upon him; his manners were always courteous, agreeable, and
graceful; he had a keen, quiet sense of humor, was on good terms
personally with the leading Irish members, and never showed any
inclination to make himself needlessly or wantonly offensive to his
opponents. He was always readily accessible to any political opponent
who had any suggestion to make, and his term of office as Chief
Secretary, although of necessity quite unsuccessful for any practical
good, left no memories of rancor behind it in the minds of those whom he
had to oppose and to confront. More lately he became First Lord of the
Treasury and Leader of the House of Commons, and the remainder of his
public career is too well known to call for any detailed description
here. My object in this article is rather to give a living picture of
the man himself as we all saw him in public life than to record in
historical detail the successive steps by which he ascended to his
present high position, or rather, it should be said, of the successive
events which brought that place within his reach and made it necessary
for him to accept it. For it is only fair to say that, so far as outer
observers could judge, Mr. Balfour never made his career a struggle for
high positions. So clever and gifted a man must naturally have had some
ambition in the public field to which he had devoted so absolutely his
time and his talents. But he seemed, so far as one could judge, to have
in him none of the self-seeking qualities which are commonly seen in the
man whose purpose is to make his parliamentary work the means of
arriving at the highest post in the government of the State. On the
contrary, his whole demeanor seemed to be rather that of one who is
devoting himself unwillingly to a career not quite congenial. He always
appeared to me to be essentially a man of literary, scholarly, and even
retiring tastes, who has a task forced upon him which he does not feel
quite free to decline, and who therefore strives to make the best of a
career which he has not chosen, but from which he does not feel at
liberty to turn away. Most men who have attained the same political
position give one the idea that they feel a positive delight in
parliamentary life and warfare, and that nature must have designed them
for that particular field and for none other. The joy in the strife
which men like Palmerston, like Disraeli, and like Gladstone evidently
felt never showed itself in the demeanor of Arthur Balfour. There was
always something in his manner which spoke of a shy and shrinking
disposition, and he never appeared to enter into debate for the mere
pleasure of debating. He gave the idea of one who would much rather not
make a speech were he altogether free to please himself in the matter,
and as if he were only constraining himself to undertake a duty which
most of those around him were but too glad to have an opportunity of
attempting.
There are instances, no doubt, of men gifted with an absolute genius for
eloquent speech who have had no natural inclination for debate and would
rather have been free from any necessity for entering into the war of
words. I have heard John Bright say that he would never make a speech if
he did not feel it a duty imposed upon him, and that he would never
enter the House of Commons if he felt free to keep away from its
debates. Yet Bright was a born orator and was, on the whole, I think,
the greatest public and parliamentary orator I have ever heard in
England, not excluding even Gladstone himself. Bright had all the
physical qualities of the orator. He had a commanding presence and a
voice of the most marvelous intonation, capable of expressing in musical
sound every emotion which lends itself to eloquence--the impassioned,
the indignant, the pathetic, the appealing, and the humorous. Then I can
recall an instance of another man, not, indeed, endowed with Bright's
superb oratorical gifts, but who had to spend the greater part of his
life since he attained the age of manhood in the making of speeches
within and outside the House of Commons. I am thinking now of Charles
Stewart Parnell. I know well that Parnell would never have made a speech
if he could have avoided the task, and that he even felt a nervous
dislike to the mere putting of a question in the House. But no one
would have known from Bright's manner when he took part in a great
debate that he was not obeying in congenial mood the full instinct and
inclination of a born orator. Nor would a stranger have guessed from
Parnell's clear, self-possessed, and precise style of speaking that he
was putting a severe constraint upon himself when he made up his mind to
engage in parliamentary debate. There is something in Arthur Balfour's
manner as a speaker which occasionally reminds me of Parnell and his
style. The two men had the same quiet, easy, and unconcerned fashion of
utterance, always choosing the most appropriate word and finding it
without apparent difficulty; each man seemed, as I have already said of
Balfour, to be thinking aloud rather than trying to convince the
listeners; each man spoke as if resolved not to waste any words or to
indulge in any appeal to the mere emotions of the audience. But the
natural reluctance to take any part in debate was always more
conspicuous in the manner of Balfour than even in that of Parnell.
Balfour is a man of many and varied tastes and pursuits. He is an
advocate of athleticism and is especially distinguished for his devotion
to the game of golf. He obtained at one time a certain reputation in
London society because of the interest he took in some peculiar phases
of fanciful intellectual inventiveness. He was for a while a leading
member, if not the actual inventor, of a certain order of psychical
research whose members were described as The Souls. More than one
novelist of the day made picturesque use of this singular order and
enlivened the pages of fiction by fancy portraits of its leading
members. Such facts as these did much to prevent Balfour from being
associated in the public mind with only the rivalries of political
parties and the incidents of parliamentary warfare. One sometimes came
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WITH SACK AND STOCK IN ALASKA
PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON
WITH SACK AND STOCK
IN ALASKA
BY
GEORGE BROKE, A.C., F.R.G.S.
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
AND NEW YORK: 15 EAST 16th STREET
1891
_All rights reserved_
Dedicated
TO THE MEMORY OF
A⸺ M⸺
KILLED ON THE DÜSSISTOCK
AUGUST 16, 1890
PREFACE
The publishing of these simple notes is due to the wishes of one who is
now no more. But for this they would probably have never seen the light,
and I feel therefore that less apology is needed for their crudeness and
‘diariness’ than would otherwise have been the case.
G. B.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
LONDON TO SITKA
The summons—Across the Atlantic in the ‘Polynesian’—A deceitful
car-conductor—The C.P.R.—At Victoria—On the ‘Ancon’—Fort
Wrangel—Juneau—Sitka 1
CHAPTER II
SITKA TO YAKUTAT
The town—Ascent of Sha-klokh—Expedition to Edgcumbe—Dick’s
dismissal—Enlisting recruits—Ascent of Verstovia—Arrival of
W.—On board the ‘Alpha’—Miserable weather—Run ashore at Yakutat 20
CHAPTER III
OPENING APPROACHES
Getting canoes and men—A false start—Icy Bay—Torrents of
rain—On march—The Yahkhtze-tah-heen—A wet camp—More wading—Our
forces—Camp on the glacier—Across the ice—The Chaix Hills 37
CHAPTER IV
AN ATTACK AND A COUNTERMARCH
A long lie—Men return to the beach—We make a
cache—Shifting camp—The Libbey Glacier—The south-east
face of St. Elias—Right-about-turn—Lake Castani—The Guyot
Glacier—Reappearance of the men—Wild-geese for supper 61
CHAPTER V
FURTHER ADVANCE AND MY RETREAT
Across the Tyndall Glacier—Ptarmigan—Another bear—The Daisy and
Coal Glaciers—A catastrophe—The others go on—Alone with Billy
and Jimmy—More geese—The blue bear—Marmot hunting 81
CHAPTER VI
BACK TO THE SHORE
Ptarmigan with a revolver—Back to Camp G—The others
return—Their narrative—The men turn up again—We start down—A
wasp’s nest—Mosquitoes—Wading extraordinary—We leave Icy Bay—A
luxurious breakfast 99
CHAPTER VII
LIFE AT YAKUTAT
Curio-hunting—Small plover—W. goes down on the ‘Active’—Siwash
dogs—A great potlatch—Cricket under difficulties—No signs of
the ‘Alpha’—I determine to go down in a canoe—The white men
accompany me 122
CHAPTER VIII
YAKUTAT TO SITKA
Farewells—A drunken skipper—Cape Fairweather—Loss of our
frying-pan—Mount Fairweather and its glaciers—Murphy’s
Cove—Stuck at Cape Spencer—Salmon and sour-dough bread—We reach
Cape Edwardes—The ‘Pinta’—Safe back—Height of St. Elias 137
_MAPS_
COAST OF PART OF SOUTH-EASTERN ALASKA, SHOWING THE ST. ELIAS
ALPS _To face p._ 1
THE SOUTHERN <DW72>s OF MOUNT ST. ELIAS 〃 61
[Illustration: COAST OF part of SOUTH-EASTERN ALASKA showing the ST.
ELIAS ALPS.
_Longmans, Green & Co., London & New York. F.S. Weller._]
WITH SACK AND STOCK IN ALASKA
CHAPTER I
LONDON TO SITKA
On the twenty-fifth of April, 1888, I was playing golf on our little
links at home, and had driven off for the Stile Hole, situated on the
lawn-tennis ground, when I observed the butler emerge from the house
with an orange envelope in his hand, and come towards me across the
lawn. Having with due deliberation played a neat approach shot over the
railings on to the green, I climbed over after it, putted out the hole,
and then went to meet him. The telegram proved to be from my friend
Harold T., with whom at Saas in the previous summer I had discussed
Seton-Karr’s book on Alaska, and we had both come to the conclusion that
we should much like to go there. Finding that I should have the summer
of ’88 at my disposal, I had written to him at the end of March to ask
about his plans and now got this telegram in reply. It was sent from
Victoria, B.C., and was an urgent appeal to join him and his brother at
once, as they meant to make an attempt on Mount St. Elias that summer,
and must start northward by the end of May. I retired to the smoking-room
to consider the situation, and finally came to the conclusion that such a
hurried departure might be managed.
I crossed over to Brussels, where I was then posted, packed up all my
goods and chattels, left masses of P.P.C. cards, and returned again
three days later. The afternoon of May 11 found me on board the Allan
liner ‘Polynesian’ at Liverpool. I was fortunate in making some very
charming acquaintances among the few saloon passengers on board, and
though the good ship did not bely her sobriquet of ‘Roly-poly,’ we had a
very pleasant crossing till the 17th, when we got into a horrible cold
wet fog, the temperature on deck not rising above 34° for two days,
while for about twelve hours we ran along the edge of, and occasionally
through, thin field-ice, all broken into very small pieces. About noon
on the 18th we sighted land to the north, covered with snow, and entered
the Gulf of St. Lawrence next day. We stopped off Rimouski to pick up
our pilot at lunch-time on Whit-Sunday, a lovely day but very cold, and
having left summer in England, we seemed to have returned suddenly into
winter. Next morning we awoke to find ourselves at Quebec.
As we had brought nine hundred emigrants, and the ‘Oregon’ and
‘Carthaginian’ came in at the same time, there was a mob of over two
thousand despairing passengers at the landing-stage station hunting
wildly for their luggage. I abandoned the conflict and went round the
town, calling at the Post Office, in hopes of hearing something from
H., but there was nothing, which was not very wonderful, as, though I
had telegraphed to say I was coming, I had not indicated my route in
any way. So I returned and collected my things, and after a successful
interview with the Customs officials got the greater part of them
checked to Vancouver, and conveyed the remainder to the railway station,
where I found my friends of the voyage. There was a train to Montreal
at half-past one, but it was very crowded, and we fell victims to the
blandishments of a parlour-car conductor, who represented to us that his
car would be attached to the emigrant special which would leave at three
o’clock and reach Montreal as soon, if not sooner, than the ordinary
train, as it would run right through. We fell into the snare, deposited
our properties in the car, and went off into the town again, returning
punctually at three. Alas there was no sign of the emigrant train, and
it did not leave till six, while its progress even then was of the most
contemptible character, stopping for long periods at benighted little
stations, so that we did not reach Montreal till three in the morning.
Fortunately we had furnished ourselves with biscuits, potted meat,
etc., including whisky, and so did not actually starve, but we were all
very cross, the ladies especially; and though the train was going to
continue its weird journey we declined to have anything more to do with
it, and hurried up to the big hotel, where we were soon wrapped in
dreamless slumbers, which lasted so long that we very nearly came under
the operation of a stern rule which decreed that no breakfasts should be
served after half-past ten.
After seeing as much of the city as we could during the day, we had
an excellent dinner, drove down in plenty of time to catch the 8.30
Pacific train, and ensconced ourselves in the recesses of a most
admirable sleeping-car, the name of which was, I fancy, the ‘Sydney.’ The
C.P.R. berths are most comfortable, and so wide that in many cases two
people are willing to share one, but the greater part of dressing and
undressing has to be done inside the berth, as in all Pullmans, which
is inconvenient till you get used to it. In this respect the gentlemen
are better off than the ladies, as we were able to make use of the
smoking-room which was next our lavatories, while I fancy the ladies’
accommodation was much more circumscribed.
The next day was very hot, and was spent in running past little lakes
and through marshy forest, called ‘muskeg’ or peat land. Early in the
morning we picked up an excellent dining-car in which we breakfasted,
lunched, and dined most luxuriously, the intervals of the day being
occupied with whist, tobacco, and light literature. On the following
morning we found ourselves skirting the northern edge of Lake Superior,
enjoying superb scenery as the line followed the curves of the rock-bound
shore. That day we had the best dining-car of the whole trip, which
unfortunately was taken off after lunch, and we had to content ourselves
with high tea at Savanne; but a far greater disaster awaited us next
morning, for, on inquiring for our breakfast at a fairly early hour,
we heard that an ill-mannered goods train had run into it in the night
as it was peaceably waiting for us, and had reduced it to a heap of
disintegrated fragments. This was a pretty state of things, but I had
been warned beforehand that such calamities were sometimes to be met
with, and so our party were prepared. Setting up an Etna inside a
biscuit-tin so as to guard against the possibility of disaster from
the jolting of the carriage, we brewed our tea, and made a comfortable
meal off biscuits, potted meat, sardines, and marmalade, while the
rest of the passengers, who seemed to have neglected these precautions,
glared upon us in hungry envy. However, we reached Winnipeg at noon,
and they rushed in a tumultuous body to the refreshment-room. Here we
overtook that ghastly train in which we had started from Quebec, and
some waifs and strays were recovered which the ladies had left behind.
At Portage-la-Prairie a dining-car was attached, and we were enabled to
get our evening meal in peace. Next morning, Saturday, we secured our
travelling restaurant at a place called Moosejaw about six o’clock—at
least I was told so.
And here I wish to protest against the insane habit of early rising which
seems to possess the passengers on the C.P.R. I am an early riser myself,
in fact I pique myself on it, but in this car I was always the last,
with the exception of one of my friends, a young Englishman ranching at
Calgary. By seven o’clock the Babel of voices, and the noise made by our
attendant as he stowed away the beds, compelled one to get up,
which was unkind if one had been talking and smoking till 1 or
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FOLKLORE OF SCOTTISH LOCHS AND SPRINGS.
BY
JAMES M. MACKINLAY, M.A., F.S.A.Scot.
GLASGOW: WILLIAM HODGE & Co.
1893.
PREFATORY NOTE.
No work giving a comprehensive account of Well-worship in Scotland
has yet appeared. Mr. R. C. Hope's recent volume, "Holy Wells: Their
Legends and Traditions," discusses the subject in its relation to
England. In the following pages an attempt has been made to illustrate
the more outstanding facts associated with the cult north of the
Tweed. Various holy wells are referred to by name; but the list makes
no claim to be exhaustive.
J. M. M.
4 Westbourne Gardens,
Glasgow, December, 1893.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. Worship of Water, 1
II. How Water became Holy, 24
III. Saints and Springs, 39
IV. More Saints and Springs, 56
V. Stone Blocks and Saints' Springs, 72
VI. Healing and Holy Wells, 86
VII. Water-Cures, 108
VIII. Some Wonderful Wells, 128
IX. Witness of Water, 140
X. Water-Spirits, 155
XI. More Water-Spirits, 171
XII. Offerings at Lochs and Springs, 188
XIII. Weather and Wells, 213
XIV. Trees and Springs, 230
XV. Charm-Stones in and out of Water, 241
XVI. Pilgrimages to Wells, 263
XVII. Sun-Worship and Well-Worship, 280
XVIII. Wishing-Wells, 314
XIX. Meaning of Marvels, 324
Among the works consulted are the following, the titles being given
in alphabetical order:--
A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland. By John MacCulloch,
M.D. 1819.
A Description of the Western Islands. By M. Martin. Circa 1695.
A Handbook of Weather Folklore. By the Rev. C. Swainson, M.A.
A Historical Account of the belief in Witchcraft in Scotland. By
Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.
A Journey through the Western Counties of Scotland. By Robert
Heron. 1799.
Ancient Legends: Mystic Charms and Superstitions of Ireland. By
Lady Wilde.
An Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language. By John Jamieson,
D.D.
Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity. By Ebenezer Henderson, LL.D.
Antiquities and Scenery of the North of Scotland. By Rev. Charles
Cordiner. 1780.
Archæological Sketches in Scotland: Districts of Kintyre and
Knapdale. By Captain T. P. White.
A Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides, MDCCLXXII. By Thomas
Pennant.
A Tour in Scotland, MDCCLXIX. By Thomas Pennant.
Britannia; or, A Chorographical Description of the Flourishing Kingdoms
of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and the Islands adjacent, from the
Earliest Antiquity. By William Camden. Translated from the edition
published by the Author in MDCVII. Enlarged by the latest discoveries
by Richard Gough. The second edition in four volumes. 1806.
Celtic Heathendom. By Professor John Rhys.
Celtic Scotland: A History of Ancient Alban. By William Forbes Skene.
Churchlore Gleanings. By T. F. Thiselton Dyer.
Daemonologie in Forme of a Dialogve. Written by the High and Mightie
Prince James, by the Grace of God King of England, Scotland, France,
and Ireland; Defender of the Faith. 1603.
Descriptive Notices of some of the Ancient Parochial and Collegiate
Churches of Scotland. By T. S. Muir.
Domestic Annals of Scotland from the Reformation to the Revolution. By
Robert Chambers, LL.D.
Ecclesiological Notes on some of the Islands of Scotland. By
T. S. Muir.
English
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Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of corrections
is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and
hyphenation have been maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled
and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text.
Oe ligatures have been expanded.
MEMOIR
OF AN
EVENTFUL EXPEDITION
IN
CENTRAL AMERICA;
RESULTING IN THE DISCOVERY OF THE IDOLATROUS CITY OF
IXIMAYA,
In an unexplored region; and the possession of two
REMARKABLE AZTEC CHILDREN,
Descendants and Specimens of the Sacerdotal Caste, (now
nearly extinct,) of the Ancient Aztec Founders of the
Ruined Temples of that Country,
DESCRIBED BY
JOHN L. STEVENS, ESQ.,
AND OTHER TRAVELLERS.
Translated from the Spanish of
PEDRO VELASQUEZ,
of SAN SALVADOR.
NEW YORK:
E. F. Applegate, Printer, 111 Nassau Street.
1850.
PROFILE ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM
CENTRAL AMERICAN RUINS,
OF
ANCIENT RACES STILL EXISTING
IN IXIMAYA.
[Illustration]
The above three figures, sketched from engravings in "Stevens's Central
America," will be found, on personal comparison, to bear a remarkable
and convincing resemblance, both in the general features and the
position of the head, to the two living Aztec children, now exhibiting
in the United States, of the ancient sacerdotal caste of _Kaanas_, or
Pagan Mimes, of which a few individuals remain in the newly discovered
city of Iximaya. See, the following _Memoir_, page 31.
[Illustration]
These two figures, sketched from the same work, are said, by Senor
Velasquez, in the unpublished portion of his narrative, to be
"irresistible likenesses" of the equally exclusive but somewhat more
numerous priestly caste of _Mahaboons_, still existing in that city,
and to which belonged Vaalpeor, an official guardian of those children,
as mentioned in this memoir. Velasquez states that the likeness of
Vaalpeor to the right hand figure in the frontispiece of Stevens' second
volume, which is here also the one on the right hand, was as exact, in
outline, as if the latter had been a daguerreotype miniature.
While writing his "Narrative" after his return to San Salvador, in the
spring of the present year, (1850,) Senor Velasquez was favored, by an
American gentleman of that city, with a copy of "Layard's Nineveh," and
was forcibly struck with the close characteristic resemblance of the
faces in many of its engravings to those of the inhabitants in general,
as a peculiar family of mankind, both of Iximaya and its surrounding
region. The following are sketches, (somewhat imperfect,) of two of the
male faces to which he refers:
[Illustration]
And the following profile, from the same work, is pronounced by
Velasquez to be equally characteristic of the female faces of that
region, making due allowance for the superb head dresses of tropical
plumage, with which he describes the latter as being adorned, instead of
the male galea, or close cap, retained in the engraving.
[Illustration]
These illustrations, slight as they are, are deemed interesting, because
the Iximayans assert their descent from a very ancient Assyrian colony
nearly co-temporary with Nineveh itself--a claim which receives strong
confirmation, not only from the hieroglyphics and monuments of Iximaya,
but from the engravings in Stevens' volumes of several remarkable
objects, (the inverted winged globe especially,) at Palenque--once a
kindred colony.
It should have been stated in the following Memoir, that Senor
Velasquez, on his return to San Salvador, caused the two Kaana children
to be baptized into the Catholic Church, by the Bishop of the Diocese,
under the names of Maximo and Bartola Velasquez.
MEMOIR
OF A RECENT
EVENTFUL EXPEDITION
IN
CENTRAL AMERICA.
In the second volume of his travels in Central America--than which no
work ever published in this country, has created and maintained a higher
degree of interest, both at home and abroad--Mr. Stevens speaks with
enthusiasm of the conversations he had held with an intelligent and
hospitable Padre, or Catholic priest, of Santa Cruz del Quiche, formerly
of the village of Chajul; and of the exciting information he had
received from him, concerning immense and marvellous antiquities in the
surrounding country, which, to the present hour
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Project Gutenberg's The Fight For The Republic In China, by B.L. Putnam Weale
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MAKING PEOPLE HAPPY
[Illustration]
MAKING PEOPLE HAPPY
by
THOMPSON BUCHANAN
Author of A WOMAN'S WAY
Frontispiece by HARRISON FISHER
NEW YORK
W.J. WATT & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY W. J. WATT & COMPANY
_Published September_
PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO.
BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
BROOKLYN, N.Y.
MAKING PEOPLE HAPPY
CHAPTER I
The bride hammered the table desperately with her gavel. In vain! The
room was in pandemonium.
The lithe and curving form of the girl--for she was only twenty,
although already a wife--was tense now as she stood there in her own
drawing-room, stoutly battling to bring order out of chaos. Usually the
creamy pallor of her cheeks was only most daintily touched with rose: at
this moment the crimson of excitement burned fiercely. Usually her eyes
of amber were soft and tender: now they were glowing with an indignation
that was half-wrath.
Still the bride beat a tattoo of outraged authority with the gavel,
wholly without avail. The confusion that reigned in the charming
drawing-room of Cicily Hamilton did but grow momently the more
confounded. The Civitas Club was in full operation, and would brook no
restraint. Each of the twelve women, who were ranged in chairs facing
the presiding officer, was talking loudly and swiftly and incessantly.
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Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "An' the bridal couple 'd be holdin' hands an' gazin'
over the spanker-boom at the full moon." [Page 242.]]
RUNNING FREE
BY
JAMES B. CONNOLLY
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK ::::::::::::::::::::: 1917
COPYRIGHT, 1913, 1915, 1917, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published September, 1917
COPYRIGHT, 1912, 1913, 1917, BY P. F. COLLIER & SON, INCORPORATED
COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
CONTENTS
The Strategists
The Weeping Annie
The Bull-Fight
A Bale of Blankets
Breath o' Dawn
Peter Stops Ashore
The Sea-Birds
The Medicine Ship
One Wireless Night
Dan Magee: White Hope
ILLUSTRATIONS
"An' the bridal couple'd be holdin' hands an' gazin' over the
spanker-boom at the full moon" Frontispiece
"All stand clear of the main entrance"
"It was drive, drive, drive, from midnight to daylight"
It took till the daylight was all but gone before I knocked him down
for the last time
"You doubted my courage, maybe?" I asked
"'Quiscanto vascamo mirajjar,' which is Yunzano for 'I am satisfied, I
can now die happy'"
The Strategists
I arrived in Santacruz in the early evening, and as I stepped out of
the carriage with the children the majordomo came rushing out from
under the hotel portales and said: "Meesus Trench, is
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MOTHER GOOSE FOR GROWN FOLKS
BY MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY
Illustrated By Augustus Hoppin
Boston
Houghton, Mifflin And Company
1883
[Illustration: 0001]
[Illustration: 0006]
[Illustration: 0007]
[Illustration: 0009]
INTRODUCTORY.
|Somewhere in that uncertain "long ago,"
Whose dim and vague chronology is all
That elfin tales or nursery fables know,
Rose a rare spirit,--keen, and quick, and quaint,--
Whom by the title, whether fact or feint,
Mythic or real, Mother Goose we call.
Of Momus and Minerva sprang the birth
That gave the laughing oracle to earth:
A brimming bowl she bears, that, frothing
high
With sparkling nonsense, seemeth non-
sense all;
Till, the bright, floating syllabub blown by,
Lo, in its ruby splendor doth upshine
The crimson radiance of Olympian wine
By Pallas poured, in Jove's own banquet-
hall.
The world was but a baby when she came;
So to her songs it listened, and her name
Grew to a word of power, her voice a spell
With charm to soothe its infant wearying
well.
But, in a later and maturer age,
Developed to a dignity more sage,
Having its Shakspeares and its Words-
worths now,
Its Southeys and its Tennysons, to wear
A halo on the high and lordly brow,
Or poet-laurels in the waving hair;
Its Lowells, Whittiers, Longfellows, to sing
Ballads of beauty, like the notes of spring,
The wise and prudent ones to nursery use
Leave the dear lyrics of old Mother Goose.
Wisdom of babes,--the nursery Shak-
speare stilly--
Cackles she ever with the same good-will:
Uttering deep counsels in a foolish guise,
That come as warnings, even to the wise;
As when, of old, the martial city slept,
Unconscious of the wily foe that crept
Under the midnight, till the alarm was heard
Out from the mouth of Rome's plebeian
bird.
Full many a rare and subtile thing hath
she,
Undreamed of in the world's philosophy:
Toss-balls for children hath she humbly
rolled,
That shining jewels secretly enfold;
Sibylline leaves she casteth on the air,
Twisted in fool's-caps, blown unheeded by,
That, in their lines grotesque, albeit, bear
Words of grave truth, and signal prophecy;
And lurking satire, whose sharp lashes hit
A world of follies with their homely writ;
With here and there a roughly uttered hint,
That makes you wonder at the beauty
in't;
As if, along the wayside's dusty edge,
A hot-house flower had blossomed in a
hedge.
So, like brave Layard in old Nineveh,
Among the memories of ancient song,
As curious relics, I would fain bestir;
And gather, if it might be, into strong
And shapely show, some wealth of its
lost lore;
Fragments of Truth's own architecture,
strewed
In forms disjointed, whimsical, and rude,
That yet, to simpler vision, grandly stood
Complete, beneath the golden light of
BRAHMIC.
|If a great poet think he sings,
Or if the poem think it's sung,
They do but sport the scattered plumes
That Mother Goose aside hath flung.
Far or forgot to me is near:
Shakspeare and Punch are all the same;
The vanished thoughts do reappear,
And shape themselves to fun or fame.
They use my _quills_, and leave me out,
Oblivious that I wear the _wings_;
Or that a Goose has been about,
When every little gosling sings.
Strong men may strive for grander thought,
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CORNWALL
AGENTS
AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, NEW YORK
AUSTRALASIA OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
205 Flinders Lane, MELBOURNE
CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.
St. Martin's House, 70 Bond Street, TORONTO
INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.
MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY
309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA
[Illustration]
THE LAND'S END
CORNWALL
PAINTED BY
G. F. NICHOLLS
DESCRIBED BY
G. E. MITTON
WITH
TWENTY FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR
[Illustration]
A. & C. BLACK, LTD.
4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.
1915
Contents
CHAPTER I PAGE
POPULAR IDEAS OF CORNWALL 1
CHAPTER II
THE GATEWAY OF THE DUCHY 24
CHAPTER III
THE "TOE" OF CORNWALL 34
CHAPTER IV
FURTHEST WEST AND FURTHEST SOUTH 51
CHAPTER V
KING ARTHUR'S LAND 71
CHAPTER VI
THE SANDY BEACHES OF THE NORTHERN COAST 92
CHAPTER VII
THE INLETS OF THE SOUTH COAST 109
CHAPTER VIII
CORNISH TOWNS 124
CHAPTER IX
CORNISH CUSTOMS 135
SOME BOOKS ON CORNWALL 145
INDEX 147
List of Illustrations in Colour
1. The Land's End _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
2. Carbis Bay 6
3. Kynance Cove 10
4. At Polperro 14
5. The Coast near the Lizard 16
6. Old Bridge at Lostwithiel 28
7. St. Michael's Mount 34
8. Newlyn 38
9. Lamorna Cove 42
10. Caerthilian Cove 66
11. St. Ives 92
12. A Street in St. Ives 94
13. From Lelant to Godrevy 98
14. Fowey 110
15. Bodinnick Ferry, Fowey 114
16. Looe 118
17. Flushing--from Falmouth 122
18. Truro 124
19. The Banks of the Fal, Falmouth 128
20. At Newlyn 138
_Bird's-Eye View of Fowey Haven, pp._ 112 _and_ 113.
_Sketch-Map at end of volume_.
CORNWALL
I
POPULAR IDEAS OF CORNWALL
To the mind of the ordinary Briton there is a curious attraction in
"getting as far as you can"--a streak in mentality which has accounted
in no small degree for the world-wide Empire. In England you cannot in
one direction get any farther than the extreme point of Cornwall. Owing
to the geographical configuration of Cornwall, the idea is magnified
very vigorously into a really gallant effort to "get there," such as
might be made by an individual stretching out not only to his full
stride, but indulging in a good kick! We feel in very truth we have "got
there," on to the edge of something or somewhere. As Wilkie Collins
expresses it, the Land's End is "the sort of place where the last man in
England would be most likely to be found waiting for death at the end of
the world!"
Thus it is that Cornwall holds a special magnet which steadily draws a
never-ending succession of strangers. Look only at those who do the feat
of cycling or motoring from John o' Groat's to Land's End. Picture them
in an indomitable long-drawn-out line, wheel to wheel; shadowy forms
flitting over that last--or first--piece of road, full of hope and
exultation at the thought of the journey's end, or full of anticipation
at the journey's beginning. No road in England has been so wheel-worn as
that strip running out to the most westerly point of England.
Some there are who are drawn by a similar magnet to the Lizard, the most
southerly point of our land, but the attraction is not so potent. From
time immemorial John o' Groat's to Land's End has formed the measure of
Britain.
For very many years Cornwall has been known for its fine coast scenery,
but wild and desolate scenery was not the fashion in Early Victorian
days, and there were comparatively few brave souls who penetrated so
far. It is rather remarkable to notice how many books about the charm of
Cornwall appeared in the sixties, doubtless due to the opening of the
Cornwall Railway in 1859. There is Wilkie Collins's _Rambles Beyond
Railways_, 1861; J. O. Halliwell's _Rambles in Western Cornwall_ and J.
T. Blight's _Land's End_, the same year, followed by Richard Edmonds's
_Land's End District_ the next year.
But Cornwall really began to be known by hundreds of persons in place of
tens about 1904, and since then the number of visitors has increased to
thousands.
This book is not written by a Cornishman, for the very obvious reason
that no Cornishman could for one instant think impartially of his Duchy,
any more than you could expect a Yorkshireman to believe that the "rest
of England" was in any way to be compared with Yorkshire. The more
individual and peculiar a person is, the more deeply is he loved by
those who really know him, provided that he has lovable qualities. No
characterless good soul ever wins the heartfelt devotion that is the
meed of those who have unexpected kinks and corners in their
personality, and in the same way a flat, featureless country, carefully
cultivated and uninteresting, will never win to itself the true
land-love felt for one that is varied, rough maybe, rugged a bit, and in
a hundred ways surprising. Of all things human nature hates boredom, and
the man or the country who can win free of any trace of boredom insures
a reward. Cornwall has in a peculiar measure gained the devotion of its
own people. Not only on account of its unexpectedness, but because it
stands in some measure apart from the rest of England. The Celtic blood
of its older inhabitants, while making them akin to the Welsh and Irish,
cuts them off from the Saxons, whom so often and so heartily in the old
days they fought.
The geographical position of Cornwall, with three sides washed by the
sea, and even the "land" boundary mainly marked by a river, has
influenced its sons, who, never being far from the sound of the surging
waves, have gained something of the robust aloofness of the sailor. They
are friendly to all, but guarded nevertheless; and standing thus apart,
marked out by their territory, with small chance to mingle with
inhabitants of other counties, the clan feeling among them has grown to
be analogous to that of the clans in Scotland. All other Britishers are
to the true Cornishman "foreigners." How then could a man so imbued with
his own and his Duchy's place in regard to the "rest of England" write a
book which should convey in any way the real characteristics of his
land?
It would be a feat impossible.
The rugged outlines of a well-known face lose meaning with years of
familiarity, and are taken for granted; thus it is with landmarks in
Cornwall, which would never figure in such a chronicle at all.
Therefore, as this book is intended not so much for those who know
Cornwall as for those who will know it sometime in that future which
lies beyond the reading of it, the impressions of an outsider are most
fitting.
There are people who go to Cornwall once for a holiday and return to it
ever and again, when they get the chance, unable to find satisfaction
anywhere else; the "atmosphere" of the country has entered into their
blood. They think with an ache of the coast in all its cruelty and
glory, they picture the bright blue of the rain-washed skies in a burst
of sunshine, and they recall the great "hedges" with a foundation or
core of stone, generations old, overlaid by an ample covering of turf
and grass, a hot-bed for the stonecrop and hart's-tongue, fern,
primrose, or foxglove.
But what is a catalogue of words? It conveys nothing, any more than a
catalogue of the names of books. Unless one can conjure up feelings, the
attempt to explain the grip of the Duchy on recollection is useless. The
clammy sea-wind on
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DAGONET DITTIES
WORKS BY GEORGE R. SIMS.
_Post 8vo., illustrated boards_, =2s.= _each; cloth limp_, =2s. 6d.= _each_.
=ROGUES AND VAGABONDS.=
=THE RING O’ BELLS.=
=MARY JANE’S MEMOIRS.=
=MARY JANE MARRIED.=
=TALES OF TO-DAY.=
=DRAMAS OF LIFE.= With 60 Illustrations.
=TINKLETOP’S CRIME.= With a Frontispiece by MAURICE GREIFFENHAGEN.
_Crown 8vo., picture cover_, =1s.= _each; cloth_, =1s. 6d.= _each_.
=HOW THE POOR LIVE=; and =HORRIBLE LONDON=.
=THE DAGONET RECITER AND READER=: being Readings and Recitations in
Prose and Verse, selected from his own Works by GEORGE R. SIMS.
THE CASE OF GEORGE CANDLEMAS.
LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, 214, PICCADILLY, W.
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Transcriber's note.
Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently repaired. A list of
other changes made can be found at the end of the book.
Mark up: _italics_
=bold=
=MADAME LANORMAND'S FORTUNE-TELLER AND DREAM BOOK.=
This is the greatest book ever published on these subjects, and contains
plain and correct rules for foretelling what is going to happen. It
treats on the art of telling fortunes by the hands or Palmistry, as
practiced by the Gyps
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Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
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See 53646-h.htm or 53646-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53646/53646-h/53646-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53646/53646-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/AnthropologyAndTheClassics
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: ^2).
Small capitals have been converted to ALL CAPITALS.
ANTHROPOLOGY AND THE CLASSICS
Six Lectures Delivered Before
the University of Oxford
by
ARTHUR J. EVANS
ANDREW LANG GILBERT MURRAY
F. B. JEVONS J. L. MYRES W. WARDE FOWLER
Edited by
R. R. MARETT
Secretary to the Committee for Anthropology
Oxford
At the Clarendon Press
MCMVIII
Henry Frowde, M.A.
Publisher to the University of Oxford
London, Edinburgh, New York
Toronto and Melbourne
PREFACE
Anthropology and the Humanities--on verbal grounds one might suppose
them coextensive; yet in practice they divide the domain of human
culture between them. The types of human culture are, in fact,
reducible to two, a simpler and a more complex, or, as we are wont to
say (valuing our own achievements, I doubt not, rightly), a lower and a
higher. By established convention Anthropology occupies itself solely
with culture of the simpler or lower kind. The Humanities, on the other
hand--those humanizing studies that, for us at all events, have their
parent source in the literatures of Greece and Rome--concentrate on
whatever is most constitutive and characteristic of the higher life of
society.
What, then, of phenomena of transition? Are they to be suffered to
form a no-man’s-land, a buffer-tract left purposely undeveloped,
lest, forsooth, the associates of barbarism should fall foul of the
friends of civilization? Plainly, in the cause of science, a pacific
penetration must be tolerated, nay, encouraged, from both sides at
once. Anthropology must cast forwards, the Humanities cast back. And
there is not the slightest reason (unless prejudice be accounted
reason) why conflict should arise between the interests thus led to
intermingle.
Indeed, how can there be conflict, when, as in the case of each
contributor to the present volume, the two interests in question,
Anthropology on this side and Classical Archaeology and Scholarship
on that, are the joint concern of one and the same man? Dr. Evans
both is a leading authority on prehistoric Europe, and likewise, by
restoring the Minoan age to the light of day, has set Greek history
in a new and juster perspective. Dr. Lang is an anthropologist of
renown, and no one, even amongst his peers, has enriched the science
with so many original and fertile hypotheses; nevertheless he has found
time (and for how much else has he found time as well!) not only to
translate Homer, but also to vindicate his very existence. Professor
Murray can turn his rare faculty of sympathetic insight now to the
reinterpretation of the music of Euripides, and now to the analysis of
the elemental forces that combine and crystallize in the Greek epic.
Principal Jevons is famous for his brilliant suggestions in regard
to the early history of religion; but he has also laboured in the
cause of European archaeology, and his edition of Plutarch’s _Romane
Questions_ is very precious to the student of classical antiquities.
Professor Myres, whilst he teaches Greek language and literature as the
modern man would have them taught, and is a learned archaeologist to
boot, yet can have no greater title to our respect than that, of many
devoted helpers, he did the most to organize an effective school of
Anthropology in the University of Oxford. Finally, Mr. Warde Fowler,
living embodiment as he is in the eyes of all his friends of the
Humaner Letters, both is the historian of the Graeco-Roman city-state,
and can wield the comparative method so as to extort human meaning from
ancient Rome’s stately, but somewhat soulless, rites. Unless, then,
dual personality of some dissociated and morbid type is to be
attributed to these distinguished men, they can scarcely fail, being
anthropologists and humanists at once, to carry on nicely concerted
operations from both sides of their subject, just as the clever
engineer can set to work on his tunnel from both sides of the mountain.
It is but fair to add, however, that in the present case the first move
has been made from the anthropological side. The six lectures composing
this volume were delivered during the Michaelmas Term of 1908, at the
instance of the Committee for Anthropology, which from the outset of
its career has kept steadily in view the need of inducing classical
scholars to study the lower culture as it bears upon the higher.
Anthropology, to be sure, must often divert its attention to lines of
development branching off in many a direction from the track of advance
that leads past Athens and Rome. For us, however, and consequently
for our science, the latter remains the central and decisive path of
social evolution. In short, the general orientation of Anthropology, it
would seem, must always be towards the dawn of what Lecky so happily
describes as ‘the European epoch of the human mind’.
Lastly, a word may be said in explanation of the title chosen.
‘Anthropology and the Classics’ is exactly suited to express that
conjunction of interests of which mention has already been made--the
conjunction so perfectly exemplified by the life-work of each
contributor to the volume. But some myopic critic might contend that,
however well fitted to indicate the scope of the work as a whole, the
title hardly applies to this or that essay taken by itself. It surely
matters little if this be so; yet is it so? Dr. Evans’s lecture is
introductory. To gather impetus for our imaginative leap into the
classical period we start, it is true, from the cave-man, but have
already crossed the threshold in arriving at the Cretan. Homer, Hesiod,
Herodotus--the claims of these to rank as classics are not likely to
be assailed. There remain the Roman subjects, magic and lustration. In
what sense are they classical? Now, to use the language of biology,
whereas Greek literature is congenital, Roman literature is in large
part acquired. Therefore it includes no ‘songs before sunrise’; for
it the ‘father of history’ cannot be born again. Spirit no less than
form is an importation. In particular, the magico-religious beliefs
of Latium have lost their hold on the imitator of Greece and the
Orient. Yet primal nature will out; and the Romans, moreover, were a
pious people who loved to dwell on their _origines_. To appreciate the
greatest of Latin classics, Virgil--to glance no further afield--one
must at least have gained the right to greet him as fellow-antiquary.
For the rest, these essays profess to be no more than _vindemiatio
prima_, a first gleaning. When the harvest has been fully gathered in,
it will then be time to say, in regard to the classics both of Greece
and of Rome, how far the old lives on in the new, how far what the
student in his haste is apt to label ‘survival’ stands for a force
still tugging at the heart-strings of even the most sophisticated and
lordly heir of the ages.
R. R. MARETT.
CONTENTS
LECTURE I PAGE
THE EUROPEAN DIFFUSION OF PRIMITIVE PICTOGRAPHY
AND ITS BEARINGS ON THE ORIGIN OF SCRIPT.
BY A. J. EVANS 9
LECTURE II
HOMER AND ANTHROPOLOGY. BY A. LANG 44
LECTURE III
THE EARLY GREEK EPIC. BY G. G. A. MURRAY 66
LECTURE IV
GRAECO-ITALIAN MAGIC. BY F. B. JEVONS 93
LECTURE V
HERODOTUS AND ANTHROPOLOGY. BY J. L. MYRES 121
LECTURE VI
LUSTRATIO. BY W. W. FOWLER 169
LECTURE I
THE EUROPEAN DIFFUSION OF PICTOGRAPHY
AND ITS BEARINGS ON THE ORIGIN OF SCRIPT
The idea, formerly prevalent among classical scholars, that, before
the introduction of the Phoenician alphabet, there was no developed
system of written communication in Ancient Greece, has now fairly
broken down. In itself such an assumption shows not only a curious lack
of imagination, but a deliberate shutting of the eyes on the evidence
supplied by primitive races all over the world.
Was it possible, in view of these analogies, to believe that a form of
early culture which reached the stage revealed to us by Schliemann’s
discoveries at Mycenae was, from the point of view of written
communication, below that of the Red Indians? To myself, at least, it
was clear that the apparent lacuna in our knowledge must eventually
be supplied. It was with this instinctive assurance that I approached
the field of Cretan investigation, and the results of the discoveries
in the source and seminary of the Mycenaean culture of Greece have now
placed the matter beyond the range of controversy. The clay archives
found in the Palace of Knossos and elsewhere have proved that the
prehistoric Cretan had already, a thousand years before the appearance
of the first written record of Classical Greece, passed through every
stage in the evolution of a highly developed system of script.
There is evidence of a simple pictographic stage, and a
conventionalized hieroglyphic system growing out of it. And there is
evidence in them of the evolution out of these earlier elements of a
singularly advanced type of linear script of which two inter-related
forms are known.
A detailed account of these fully equipped forms of writing that thus
arose in the Minoan world will be given elsewhere.[1] For the moment I
would rather have you regard these first-fruits of literary produce in
European soil in their relation to the tree of very ancient growth and
of spreading roots and branches that thus, in the fullness of time, put
them forth. I refer to the primitive picture- and sign-writing that was
diffused throughout the European area and the bordering Mediterranean
region from immemorial antiquity.
In attempting a general survey of the various provinces--if we may
use the word--in which the remains of this ancient pictography are
distributed, it is necessary in the first instance to direct attention
to one so remote in time and circumstances that it may almost be
legitimately regarded as belonging to an older world.
I refer to the remarkable evidence of the employment of pictographic
figures and signs, and even of some so worn by use that they can
only be described as ‘alphabetiform’, among the wall-paintings and
engravings of the ‘Reindeer Period’--to use the term in its widest
general signification.
The whole cycle of designs by the cave-dwellers of the late
Palaeolithic periods
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 108.
MARCH 30, 1895.
[Illustration: "ANIMAL SPIRITS."
No. IX.--AWKWARD POSITION OF HIPPOLICEMAN AMONG THE WILD BULLS AND BEARS
IN THROGMORTON STREET.
(_Vide Papers, March 22._)]
* * * * *
AN ELECTION ADDRESS.
[Mr. RIDER HAGGARD has become the accepted Conservative
candidate for a Norfolk constituency. The following is
understood to be an advance copy of his Address.]
Intelligent electors, may I venture to present
Myself as an aspirant for a seat in Parliament?
The views of those opponents who despise a novelist,
Are but the foggy arguments of People of the Mist!
No writer, I assure you, can produce a better claim,
A greater versatility, a more substantial fame;
My candidature, though opposed by all the yellow gang,
Has won the hearty sympathy of Mr. ANDREW LANG.
And if what my opinions are you'd really like to know,
They're issued at a modest price by LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.;
The Eight Hours Bill, for instance, I'm prepared to speak upon
From a practical acquaintance with the Mines of Solomon.
Whatever my intentions as to Woman's Rights may be,
I yield to none in honouring the great immortal She;
While, as to foreign policy, though Blue Books make you yawn,
You'll find the subject treated most attractively in _Dawn_.
When I am placed in Parliament, I'll speak with fluent skill,
And show (like Mr. MEESON) I've a most effective will;
And if there is a special point for which I mean to fight,
It is for legislation to protect my copyright.
If chance debate to matters in South Africa should tend,
My anecdotes will cause the Speaker's wig to stand on end;
And if an opportunity occurs, I'll rouse the lot
By perorating finely in impassioned Hottentot!
So, Gentlemen, I beg you, let my arguments prevail,
Shame would it be if such a cause through apathy should fail,
Shame on the false elector who his honest duty shirks!
Believe me, Yours.
The Author of _She_, _Dawn_, and other works.
* * * * *
SUGGESTED REVIVAL OF AN OLD FORM OF PUNISHMENT FOR FUTURE OBSTRUTIONIST
SPECULATORS IN THROGMORTONIAN KAFFIR LAND.--"Put 'em in the Stocks."
* * * * *
"WHEN ARTHUR FIRST AT COURT."
Last week the Court Theatre was advertised as a "Company, Limited." The
cast in the bill was given as Chairman, ARTHUR W. PINERO; First
Director, Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN (with a song?); Second Director, HERBERT
BENNETT (Director also of HARROD'S Stores, Limited, the success of which
establishment has been so great as to now out-HARROD HARROD); and then
ARTHUR CHUDLEIGH (who was jointly lessee at one time with Mrs. JOHN
WOOD), as Director and Acting Manager. The Solicitor is down as ARTHUR
B. CHUBB ("little fish are sweet"), and the Secretary is Mr. A.
(presumably ARTHUR?) S. DUNN. Most appropriate this name to finish with;
"and now my story's DUNN." Fortunate omen, too, that there are two "n's"
in DUNN, which otherwise is a word associated with a Court not quite so
cheerful as the Court Theatre.
But the curious note about it is the preponderance of "ARTHURS." ARTHUR
PINERO, ARTHUR SULLIVAN, ARTHUR CHUDLEIGH, ARTHUR CHUBB, and ARTHUR (?)
DUNN. If they have power to add to their number, why not take in ARTHUR
JONES, ARTHUR LLOYD, and ARTHUR ROBERTS? That would make the Dramatic
ARTHURS and the Musical ARTHURS about equal.
MATILDA CHARLOTTE WOOD is mentioned as having had an agreement with one
of the ARTHURS yclept CHUDLEIGH, and probably also a disagreement too,
as their once highly prosperous joint management came to an end. But now
"she will return," at least, everyone hopes so, as, after her capital
performance of the Sporting Duchess at Drury Lane, she has shown us that
she is as fresh and as great an attraction as ever. Some of the ARTHURS
will write for her, one ARTHUR will compose for her, two ARTHURS will
act and sing with her, and ARTHUR, the managing director, will direct
and manage her. May every success attend the venture! But how about
authors and composers offering their work to so professional a board of
directors? Doesn't _Sir Fretful Plagiary's_ objection to sending his
play in to the manager of Drury Lane, namely, that "he writes himself."
hold good nowadays? Hum. A difficulty, most decidedly; still, not
absolutely insuperable.
* * * * *
Which Settles It.
_Over-enthusiastic Person_ (_speaking confidentially of his absent
Friend to the young Lady to whom absent friend is going to propose_).
Everybody speaks in his praise. He is an exceptionally good man.
_Sharp Young Lady._ Ah, then he is "too good to be true." I shall refuse
him! [_Exit separately._
* * * * *
[Illustration: "MUSIC HATH CHARMS
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ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD
Or
The Captives of the Great Earthquake
BY ROY ROCKWOOD
Other titles by ROY ROCKWOOD
THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES
THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH POLE
UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE
FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND
THROUGH SPACE TO MARS
LOST ON THE MOON
ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD
DAVE DASHAWAY, THE YOUNG AVIATOR
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS HYDROPLANE
DAVE DASHAWAY AND HIS GIANT AIRSHIP
DAVE DASHAWAY AROUND THE WORLD
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS ON MOTOR CYCLES
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR RACING AUTO
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS AND THEIR POWER LAUNCH
THE SPEEDWELL BOYS IN A SUBMARINE
CONTENTS
I. SHOT INTO THE AIR!
II. MARK HANGS ON
III. THIS FLIGHT OF THE "SNOWBIRD"
IV. "WHO GOES THERE?"
V. BETWEEN TWO PERILS
VI. ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND
VII. DROPPED FROM THE SKY
VIII. PHINEAS ROEBACH, OIL HUNTER
IX. THE EARTHQUAKE
X. THE BLACK DAY
XI. THE WONDERFUL LEAP
XII. THE GEYSER
XIII. NATURE GONE MAD
XIV. ON THE WING AGAIN
XV. A PLUNGE TO THE ICE
XVI. PROFESSOR HENDERSON REVEALS THE TRUTH
XVII. ON AN ISLAND IN THE AIR
XVIII. IMPRISONED IN THE ICE
XIX. A NIGHT ATTACK
XX. THE HEROISM OF THE SHANGHAI ROOSTER
XXI. MARK ON GUARD
XXII. THE WOLF TRAIL
XXIII. THE FIGHT AT ALEUKAN
XXIV. THE FLIGHT TOWARD THE COAST
XXV. THE HERD of KADIAKS
XXVI. THE ABANDONED CITY
XXVII. THE WHALE HUNT ASHORE
XXVIII. ON THE WHALING BARK
XXIX. WHEN THE SEA ROLLED BACK
XXX. AN ENDURING MONUMENT--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
SHOT INTO THE AIR
"Hurrah!" shouted Jack Darrow, flicking the final drops of lacquer
from the paintbrush he had been using. "That's the last stroke. She's
finished!"
"I guess we've done all we can to her before her trial trip," admitted
his chum, Mark Sampson, but in a less confident tone.
"You don't see anything wrong with her, old croaker; do you?" demanded
Jack, laughing as usual.
"'The proof of the pudding is in the eating thereof; not in chewing
the pudding bag string'," quoted Mark, still with a serious countenance.
But like Jack he stood off from the great body of the wonderful airship,
and looked the completed task over with some satisfaction. Having
emergency wings, she was also a plane. She was white all over and her
name was the _Snowbird_. Jack and Mark had spent most of their time
during this vacation from their college in building this flying machine,
which was veritably an up-to-the-minute aerial vehicle, built for both
speed and carrying capacity.
The hangar in which the machine had been built was connected with
Professor Amos Henderson's laboratory and workshop, hidden away on a
lonely point on the seacoast, about ten miles from the town of Easton,
Maine. At this spot had been built many wonderful things--mainly the
inventions of the boys' friend and protector, Professor Henderson; but
the _Snowbird_, upon which Jack and Mark now gazed so proudly, was
altogether the boys' own work.
The sliding door of the hangar opened just behind the two boys and a
black face appeared.
"Is eeder ob you boys seen ma Shanghai rooster?" queried the black
man, plaintively. "I suah can't fin' him nowhars."
"What did you let him out of his coop for?" demanded Mark. "You're
always bothering us about that rooster, Washington. He is as elusive
as the Fourth Dimension."
"I dunno wot dat fourth condension is, Massa Mark; but dat rooster is
suah some conclusive. When I lets him out fo' an airin' he hikes right
straight fo' some farmer's hen-yard, an' den I haster hunt fo' him."
"When you see him starting on his rambles, Wash, why don't you call
him back?" demanded Jack Darrow, chuckling. "If I did, Massa Jack,
I'spect he wouldn't know I was a-hollerin' fo' him."
"How's that? Doesn't he know his name?"
"I don't fo' suah know wedder he does or not," returned the darkey,
scratching his head "Ye see, it's a suah 'nuff longitudinous name, an'
I dunno wedder he remembers it all, or not."
"He's got a bad memory; has he?" said Mark, turning to smile at
Washington White, too, for Professor Henderson's old servant usually
afforded the boys much amusement.
"Dunno 'bout his memory," grunted Wash; "he's gotter good forgettery,
suah 'nuff. Leastways, when he starts off on one o' dese
perambulationaries ob his, he fergits ter come back."
"Let's see," said Jack, nudging his chum, "what _is_ that
longitudinous' name which has been hitched onto that wonderful bird,
Wash? I know it begins with the discovery of America and wanders down
through the ages to the present day; but a part of it has slipped my
memory--or, perhaps I should say, 'forgettery'."
With a perfectly serious face the darkey declaimed:
"Christopher Columbus Amerigo Vespucci
George Washington Abraham Lincoln Ulysses
Grant Garibaldi Thomas Edison Guglielmo Marconi
Butts."
"For goodness sake! Will you listen to that!" gasped Mark, while Jack
went off into a roar of laughter.
"Don't--don't it make your jaw ache to say it, Wash?" cried the older
lad when he could speak.
"Not a-tall! not a-tall!" rejoined the darkey, shaking his woolly head.
"I has practised all ma life speakin' de berry longest words in de
English language--"
"And mispronouncing them," giggled Jack.
"Mebbe, Massa Jack, mebbe!" agreed Washington, briskly. "But de copy
book say dat it is better to have tried an' failed dan nebber to have
tried at all."
"And did you ever try calling the rooster back, when he starts to play
truant, with all that mouthful of words?" queried the amused Mark.
"Yes, indeedy," said Washington, seriously.
"Don't he mind, then?"
"I should think he'd be struck motionless in his tracks
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MY LORD DUKE
BY E. W. HORNUNG
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1897
COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
CONTENTS
I. THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1
II. "HAPPY JACK" 16
III. A CHANCE LOST 31
IV. NOT IN THE PROGRAMME 44
V. WITH THE ELECT 63
VI. A NEW LEAF 77
VII. THE DUKE'S PROGRESS 90
VIII. THE OLD ADAM 105
IX. AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 122
X. "DEAD NUTS" 137
XI. THE NIGHT OF THE TWENTIETH 151
XII. THE WRONG MAN 163
XIII. THE INTERREGNUM 180
XIV. JACK AND HIS MASTER 189
XV. END OF THE INTERREGNUM 199
XVI. "LOVE THE GIFT" 215
XVII. AN ANTI-TOXINE 223
XVIII. HECKLING A MINISTER 233
XIX. THE CAT AND THE MOUSE 244
XX. "LOVE THE DEBT" 257
XXI. THE BAR SINISTER 266
XXII. DE MORTUIS 282
MY LORD DUKE
CHAPTER I
THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY
The Home Secretary leant his golf-clubs against a chair. His was the
longest face of all.
"I am only sorry it should have come now," said Claude apologetically.
"Just as we were starting for the links! Our first day, too!" muttered
the Home Secretary.
"_I_ think of Claude," remarked his wife. "I can never tell you, Claude,
how much I feel for you! We shall miss you dreadfully, of course; but we
couldn't expect to enjoy ourselves after this; and I think, in the
circumstances, that you are quite right to go up to town at once."
"Why?" cried the Home Secretary warmly. "What good can he do in the
Easter holidays? Everybody will be away; he'd much better come with me
and fill his lungs with fresh air."
"I can never tell you how much I feel for you," repeated Lady Caroline
to Claude Lafont.
"Nor I," said Olivia. "It's too horrible! I don't believe it. To think
of their finding him after all! I don't believe they _have_ found him.
You've made some mistake, Claude. You've forgotten your code; the cable
really means that they've _not_ found him, and are giving up the
search!"
Claude Lafont shook his head.
"There may be something in what Olivia says," remarked the Home
Secretary. "The mistake may have been made at the other end. It would
bear talking over on the links."
Claude shook his head again.
"We have no reason to suppose there has been a mistake at all, Mr.
Sellwood. Cripps is not the kind of man to make mistakes; and I can
swear to my code. The word means, 'Duke found--I sail with him at
once.'"
"An Australian Duke!" exclaimed Olivia.
"A blackamoor, no doubt," said Lady Caroline with conviction.
"Your kinsman, in any case," said Claude Lafont, laughing; "and my
cousin; and the head of the family from this day forth."
"It was madness!" cried Lady Caroline softly. "Simple madness--but then
all you poets _are_ mad! Excuse me, Claude, but you remind me of the
Lafont blood in my own veins--you make it boil. I feel as if I never
could forgive you! To turn up your nose at one of the oldest titles in
the three kingdoms; to think twice about a purely hypothetical heir at
the antipodes; and actually to send out your solicitor to hunt him up!
If that was not Quixotic lunacy, I should like to know what is?"
The Right Honourable George Sellwood took a new golf-ball from his
pocket, and bowed his white head mournfully as he stripped off the
tissue paper.
"My dear Lady Caroline, _noblesse oblige_--and a man must do his obvious
duty," he heard Claude saying, in his slightly pedantic fashion.
"Besides, I should have cut a very sorry figure had I jumped at the
throne, as it were, and sat there until I was turned out. One knew there
_had_ been an heir in Australia; the only thing was to find out if he
was still alive; and Cripps has done so. I'm bound to say I had given
him up. Cripps has written quite hope
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ANTIGUA
AND THE ANTIGUANS:
A FULL ACCOUNT OF
THE COLONY AND ITS INHABITANTS
FROM THE TIME OF THE CARIBS
TO THE PRESENT DAY,
Interspersed with Anecdotes and Legends.
ALSO,
AN IMPARTIAL VIEW OF SLAVERY AND THE
FREE LABOUR SYSTEMS;
THE STATISTICS OF THE ISLAND,
AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THE PRINCIPAL FAMILIES.
"Sworn to no party, of no sect am I."--Pope.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON
SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET.
1844.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Caribs: Domestic state--Treatment of their women--Children--
Their early tuition--Superstitious cruelties--Hatred of the
Arrowawks--Female children--Occupation of the men--Canoes--Bows
and arrows--Cottages--Cooking utensils--Native cloth--Food--
Fishing--Decoy fish--Spirituous liquors--Personal appearance--
Amusements--The Carib house--Extermination of the Caribs from
Antigua--Remarks upon their history
CHAPTER XXX.
<DW64>s: Their introduction into the New World--Bartholomew Las
Casas--His intercessions in favour of the Indians--Cardinal
Ximenes--Origin of the slave trade--Its adoption by the English
government--Character of slavery--Mental degeneracy--Instances
of superior faculties among the <DW64> race--Juan Parega--
Phillis Wheatley--Ignatius Sancho--His letter to the Rev. L.
Sterne--Slavery in its early days--Punishment of the <DW64>s in
1736
CHAPTER XXXI.
<DW64>s: Palliations, _but not excuses_, for former cruelties--
A harsh planter--Crimes of slaves--The little <DW64>s'
dinner-hour--A character--<DW64>s' want of thought--Bartering
their weekly provisions--Pilfering--The Rock Dungeon--A
Tortolian slave-master--The murdered slave--Branding--Slave
cargo--Remarks upon slavery--A good slave-master--A kind
attorney--<DW64> gratitude
CHAPTER XXXII.
<DW64>s: The assertion that <DW64>s are careless of all
domestic ties confuted by anecdotes--"Shadows" of <DW64>
character--Excuses for them--Conversion to Christianity--Belief
of the Africans that after death they shall return to Africa--
Instance of it--Africans and Creoles--Superstitions--Obeah
CHAPTER XXXIII.
<DW64>s: Superstition--Trials by ordeal--Flower-fence--Bible
and key--A way to recover stolen property--Charm to prevent a
scolding tongue--Jumbies--A night's adventure--The soldier's
last jump--Jumbies calls--Betsey, the nurse--The haunted house
--A cure--The drowning boys--The murdered woman--The jumby's
revenge
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Seeming paradoxes explained--<DW64> suspicion--Instances of it--
Stealing--Its various characters--Leasing--The dead canaries--
Broken promises--Idleness--<DW64> wages--Their present lot--
Domestics
CHAPTER XXXV.
<DW64>s: "Shadows" continued--The crime of murder--Instances of
it--Hon. Sam. Martin--Giles Blizard--Adam Ogilvie
CHAPTER XXXVI.
<DW64>s: The crime of poisoning--Instance of it--Murder of Mr.
Brown--Love and jealousy--The end of unlawful love--Infanticide
--Incendiarism--A late instance of it--Polygamy--Disregard of
marriage vows
CHAPTER XXXVII.
<DW64>s: A little change for the better--"Shadows nursed by
night retire"--Respect to age--Filial affection--Generosity--
Their kindness to the poorer class of whites--Cleanliness--the
opposite vice--Behaviour at church--A black exhorter--Reading
and writing--An anecdote
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
<DW64>s: Their amusements--Natural ear for music--Singing--
Dancing--Subscription routs--Christmas balls--The ball-room
decorations--Ball dresses--Gentlemen's appearance--Ladies'--
Politeness--Supper, and the supper-table--The morning after a
ball--Cards of invitation--The "good night."
CHAPTER XXXIX.
<DW64>s: Fondness for "Nancy stories"--<DW64> loquacity--Their
signification of the word "cursing"--Markets--Confusion of
tongues--Weddings--The
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RAVEN***
Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
[email protected]
THE NIGHTINGALE
THE VALKYRIE AND RAVEN
AND OTHER BALLADS
BY
GEORGE BORROW
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
1913
_Copyright in the United States of America_
_by Houghton_, _Mifflin and Co. for Clement Shorter_.
THE NIGHTINGALE, OR THE TRANSFORMED DAMSEL
I know where stands a Castellaye,
Its turrets are so fairly gilt;
With silver are its gates inlaid,
Its walls of marble stone are built.
Within it stands a linden tree,
With lovely leaves its boughs are hung,
Therein doth dwell a nightingale,
And sweetly moves that bird its tongue.
A gallant knight came riding by,
He heard its dulcet ditty ring;
And sorely, sorely, wondered he
At midnight hour that it should sing.
"And hear, thou little Nightingale,
If thou to me wilt sing a lay,
Thy feathers I'll with gold bedeck,
Thy neck with costly pearls array."
"With golden feathers others lure,
Such gifts for me have value slight;
I am a strange and lonely bird,
But little known to mortal wight."
"And thou, a strange wild bird thou be,
Whom other mortals little know;
Yet hunger pinches thee, and cold,
When falls the cruel winter snow."
"I laugh at hunger, laugh at snow,
Which falls so wide on hill and lea;
But I am vexed by secret care,
I know not either joy or glee.
"Betwixt the hills and valleys deep
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Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE
MISSISSIPPI VALLEY
AND THE
GREAT LAKES
Selected and Edited by
KATHARINE B. JUDSON
AUTHOR OF "MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF
CALIFORNIA AND THE OLD SOUTHWEST,"
"MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE PACIFIC
NORTHWEST," ETC., ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
CHICAGO
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1914
Copyright
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1914
Published August, 1914
W. F. Hall Printing Co., Chicago
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE GREAT PLAINS.
_Illustrated. Small quarto._
_$1.50 net._
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF CALIFORNIA AND THE OLD SOUTHWEST.
_Over fifty full-page illustrations. Small quarto._
_$1.50 net._
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF ALASKA.
_Beautifully illustrated. Small quarto._
_$1.50 net._
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST.
Especially of Washington and Oregon.
_With fifty full-page illustrations. Small quarto._
_$1.50 net._
MONTANA: "The Land of Shining Mountains."
_Illustrated. Indexed. Square 8vo._
_75 cents net._
WHEN THE FORESTS ARE ABLAZE.
_Illustrated. Crown 8vo._
_$1.35 net._
A. C. McClurg & Co., Publishers
[Illustration: EARLY INDIAN DRAWING SHOWING A WRESTLING BOUT FOR
A TURKEY.
The Donor, a Hunter, is the Shrouded Figure on the Horse.
_From Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology._]
PREFACE
Mystery, magic, and manitoes abound in the land of Hiawatha, in the
land of the Ojibwas, among the green islands, graceful and beautiful,
lying amidst the dancing blue waters when the sun shines over Gitche
Gomee, the Great Water.[1] Manitoes, great and mighty, lived in the
cool depths of the mighty forests, in the rivers and lakes, and even
in the snows of winter. And adventures there were in those early days
amongst these islands of the North, when manitoes directed the affairs
of men.
[1] Gitche Gomee is Lake Superior.
But the animal fathers lived upon the earth before there came the
"two-legged walkers." There were many animals. There were many
beavers. It was the beavers who made Gitche Gomee, the Great Water.
They made it by building two dams. The first they built at the Grand
Sault, and the second was five leagues below. When Great Hare came up
the river, he said, "This must not be so." Therefore he stepped upon
the first dam. But he was in haste. He did not break it down;
therefore there are now great falls and whirlpools at that place. But
at the second dam, Great Hare stepped upon it mightily; therefore
there are now few falls and only a little swirling water at that
place. Great Hare was very mighty. When he chased Beaver he stepped
across a bay eight leagues wide.
Around Michilimackinack was the land of Great Hare. There, amongst the
green islets, under the cool shade of wide spreading trees, where fish
leaped above the rippling waters, he made the first fish net. He made
it after watching Spider weave a web for catching flies.
It was Wenibojo,[2] who, in Ojibwa land, discovered the wild rice and
taught the Indians to use it. He first pointed out the low grassy
islands in the lakes, waving their bright green leaves and spikes of
yellowish-green blossoms. He showed them how to cut paths through the
wild rice beds before the grain was ripe, and later, to beat it into
their canoes. He told them always to gather the wild rice before a
storm, else the wind would blow it all into the water. Therefore the
Indians use wild rice in all their feasts. They even taught the white
men to use it.
[2] Wenibojo is only a variation of the name also given as
Manabush. Both are identical with Hiawatha.
When the snows of winter lay deep upon the forests of the North, when
ice covered lakes and rivers, then the story tellers of the Ojibwas,
as of all other Indian tribes, told the tales of the olden times, when
manitoes lived upon the earth, and when the animal fathers roamed
through the forest. But such stories are not told in summer. All the
woods and shores, all the bays and islands, are, in summer, the home
of keen-hearing spirits, who like not to have Indians talking about
them. But when the deep snows come, then the spirits are more drowsy.
Then the Indians, when North West rattles the flaps of the wigwams,
and wild animals hide in the shelter of the deep forest, tell their
tales. All winter they tell them, while the fires burn in the
wigwams--tell them until the frogs croak in the spring.
Tales they tell of how Gitche Manito, the Good One, taught the Indians
how to plant the Indian corn, how to strip and bury Mondamin, and how
to gather the corn in the month of falling leaves, that there may be
food in the camps when the snows of winter come. Tales they tell of
Gitche Manedo, the Evil One, who brings only distress and
sickness--tales of the land of Hiawatha. Mystery and magic lay all
about them.
It is a far cry from the stories of the North along the banks of the
Mississippi, from that land of long winters, through the country of
the mound builders, to the sunnier Southland; yet from north to south,
around the glimmering Indian fires, grouped eager men and women and
children, listening to the story tellers.
But quite different are the tales of the Southland--of the Cherokees,
Biloxis, and Chitimachas. They are stories of wild turkeys, of
persimmons and raccoons, and of the spirits which dwell in the
mountain places where none dare go. Stories also are they of Brer
Rabbit and the tar wolf, which came from Indian slaves working in the
fields in early days, through the <DW64> slaves working beside them, to
the children of the white men.
* * * * *
It is a loss to American literature that so much of the legendary
history of these Indian tribes has gone, beyond hope of recovery.
Exquisite in color, poetical in feeling, these legends of sun, moon,
and stars, of snow, ice, lightning, thunders, the winds, the life of
the forest birds and animals about them, and the longing to understand
the why and the how of life--all which we have only in fragments.
Longfellow's work shows the wonderful beauty of these northern
legends, nor has he done violence to any of them in making them
poetical. His picture of the departure of Hiawatha, the lone figure
standing stately and solemn, as the canoe drifted out towards the
glowing sunset, while from the shore, in the shadow of the forest,
came the low Indian chant, mingling with the sighing of the pine
trees, is truely Indian. For the mystical and poetical is strong in
the Indian nature.
As in all the other volumes of this series, no effort has been made to
ornament or amplify these legends in the effort to make them
"literary," or give them "literary charm." They must speak for
themselves. What editing has been done has been in simplifying them,
and freeing them from the verbose setting in which many were found.
For in this section of the country, settled before it was realized
that there was an Indian literature, the original work of noting down
the myths was very imperfectly done.
Thanks are due to the work of Albert E. Jenks, on the wild rice
Indians of the upper lakes; to James Mooney, for the myths of the
Cherokees; to George Catlin, for some of the upper Mississippi
legends; to the well-known but almost inaccessible work of
Schoolcraft, and to others.
K. B. J.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
The Earth-Maker _Winnebago_ 1
Creation _Chitimacha_ 5
The Creation _Wyandot_ 8
Creation of the Races _Biloxi_ 12
Story of the Creation _Ojibwa_ 14
Creation (a fragment) _Ojibwa_ 16
Creation of the Mandans _Mandan_ 17
The Flood _Chitimacha_ 19
The Great Flood (a fragment) _Mandan_ 20
The Great Flood _Menomini_ 21
Origin of Fire _Menomini_ 26
The Thunderers and the Origin of Fire _Menomini_ 28
The Origin of Fire _Chitimacha_ 31
The Gifts of the Sky God _Chitimacha_ 32
Mondamin _Ojibwa_ 34
Mondamin _Ottawa_ 37
The Corn Woman _Cherokee_ 40
Discovery of Wild Rice _Ojibwa_ 42
Origin of Wild Rice _Ojibwa_ 44
Origin of Winnebago _Menomini_ 45
The Origin of Tobacco _Menomini_ 49
Origin of Maple Sugar _Menomini_ 51
Manabush and the Moose _Menomini_ 53
Origin of Day and Night _Menomini_ 54
Origin of the Bear _Cherokee_ 56
Origin of the Word Chicago _Ojibwa_ 58
Origin of the Word Chicago _Menomini_ 60
The Coming of Manabush _Menomini_ 61
The Story of Manabush _Menomini_ 62
Manabozho and West _Ojibwa_ 65
Manabush and the Great Fish _Menomini_ 69
The Departure of Manabush _Menomini_ 72
The Return of Manabush _Menomini_ 74
The Request for Immortality _Menomini_ 75
Peboan and Seegwun _Ojibwa_ 77
The Grave Fires _Ojibwa_ 79
The Death Trail _Cherokee_ 82
The Duck and the North West Wind _Ojibwa_ 84
How the Hunter Destroyed Snow _Menomini_ 87
The Pipe of Peace _Ojibwa_ 90
The Thunder's Nest _Ojibwa_ 92
The Pipestone _Sioux_ 93
The Pipestone _Knisteneaux_ 94
Pau-puk-kee-wis _Ojibwa_ 95
Iagoo, the Boaster _Ojibwa_ 102
Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker _Ojibwa_ 104
Rabbit Goes Duck Hunting _Cherokee_ 109
Rabbit and the Tar Baby _Biloxi_ 111
Rabbit and Tar Wolf _Cherokee_ 114
Rabbit and Panther _Menomini_ 116
How Rabbit Stole Otter's Coat _Cherokee_ 118
Rabbit and Bear _Biloxi_ 122
Why Deer Never Eat Men _Menomini_ 125
How Rabbit Snared the Sun _Biloxi_ 128
When the Orphan Trapped the Sun _Ojibwa_ 130
The Hare and the Lynx _Ojibwa_ 134
Welcome to a Baby _Cherokee_ 137
Baby Song _Cherokee_ 139
Song to the Firefly _Ojibwa_ 140
Song of the Mother Bears _Cherokee_ 141
The Man in the Stump _Cherokee_ 143
The Ants and the Katydids _Biloxi_ 144
When the Owl Married _Cherokee_ 145
The Kite and the Eagle 147
The Linnet and the Eagle _Ojibwa_ 148
How Partridge got his Whistle _Cherokee_ 149
How Kingfisher got his Bill _Cherokee_ 151
Why the Blackbird Has Red Wings _Chitimacha_ 153
Ball Game of the Birds and Animals _Cherokee_ 155
Why the Birds Have Sharp Tails _Biloxi_ 158
The Wildcat and the Turkeys _Biloxi_ 159
The Brant and the Otter _Biloxi_ 161
The Tiny Frog and the Panther 163
The Frightener of Hunters _Choctaw_ (_Bayou Lacomb_) 166
The Hunter and the Alligator _Choctaw_ (_Bayou Lacomb_) 167
The Groundhog Dance _Cherokee_ 169
The Racoon _Menomini_ 171
Why the Opossum Plays Dead _Biloxi_ 172
Why the 'Possum's Tail is Bare _Cherokee_ 174
Why 'Possum Has a Large Mouth _Choctaw_ (_Bayou Lacomb_) 176
The Porcupine and the Two Sisters _Menomini_ 177
The Wolf and the Dog _Cherokee_ 179
The Catfish and the Moose _Menomini_ 180
Turtle _Menomini_ 181
The Worship of the Sun _Ojibwa_ 185
Tashka and Walo _Choctaw_ (_Bayou Lacomb_) 189
Sun and Moon _Menomini_ 192
The Moon Person _Biloxi_ 193
The Star Creatures _Cherokee_ 194
Meteors _Menomini_ 195
The Aurora Borealis _Menomini_ 196
The West Wind _Chitimacha_ 197
The Lone Lightning _Ojibwa_ 198
The Thunders _Cherokee_ 200
Months of the Year _Natchez_ 201
Why the Oaks and Sumachs Redden _Fox_ 202
The Man of Ice _Cherokee_ 205
The Nunnehi _Cherokee_ 207
The Little People _Cherokee_ 210
War Song _Ojibwa_ 212
The War Medicine _Cherokee_ 213
The Coming of the White Man _Wyandot_ 214
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Early Indian drawing showing a wrestling bout _Frontispiece_
Early Indian pottery 20
Wild rice tied in bunches or sheaves 42
Wild rice kernels after threshing and winnowing 42
Birch-bark yoke, and sap buckets, used in maple sugar making 52
Picture writing. An Ojibwa Meda song 84
Permanent ash-bark wigwam of the wild rice gathering Ojibwa 104
Shell gorget showing eagle carving 128
Indian jar from the mounds of Arkansas 128
Spider gorgets 158
Shell pins made and used by Indians of the Mississippi Valley 176
Ojibwa dancer's beaded medicine bag 198
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY AND THE GREAT LAKES
THE EARTH-MAKER
_Winnebago_
When Earth-maker came to consciousness, he thought of the substance
upon which he was sitting. He saw nothing. There was nothing anywhere.
Therefore his tears flowed. He wept. But not long did he think of it.
He took some of the substance upon which he was sitting; so he made a
little piece of earth for our fathers. He cast this down from the high
place on which he sat. Then he looked at what he had made. It had
become something like our earth. Nothing grew upon it. Bare it was,
but not quiet. It kept turning.
"How shall I make it become quiet?" thought Earth-maker. Then he took
some grass from the substance he was sitting upon and cast it down
upon the earth. Yet it was not quiet.
Then he made a man. When he had finished him, he called him Tortoise.
At the end of all his thinking, after he came to consciousness, he
made the two-legged walkers.
Then Earth-maker said to this man, "The evil spirits are abroad to
destroy all I have just created. Tortoise, I shall send you to bring
order into the world." Then Earth-maker gave him
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DODO
A DETAIL OF THE DAY
BY
E.F. BENSON
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I
FOURTH EDITION
METHUEN & CO
LONDON
1893
And far out, drifting helplessly on that grey, angry sea, I
saw a small boat at the mercy of the winds and waves. And my
guide said to me, 'Some call the sea "Falsehood," and that
boat "Truth," and others call the sea "Truth," and the boat
"Falsehood;" and, for my part, I think that one is right as the
other.'--The Professor of Ignorance.
CHAPTER ONE
Poets of all ages and of all denominations are unanimous in assuring
us that there was once a period on this grey earth known as the Golden
Age. These irresponsible hards describe it in terms of the vaguest,
most poetic splendour, and, apart from the fact, upon which they are
all agreed, that the weather was always perfectly charming, we have to
reconstruct its characteristics in the main for ourselves. Perhaps if
the weather was uniformly delightful, even in this nineteenth century,
the golden age might return again. We all know how perceptibly our
physical, mental and spiritual level is raised by a few days of really
charming weather; but until the weather determines to be always golden,
we can hardly expect it of the age. Yet even now, even in England, and
even in London, we have every year a few days which must surely be
waifs and strays from the golden age, days which have fluttered down
from under the hands of the recording angel, as he tied up his reports,
and, after floating about for years in dim, interplanetary space,
sometimes drop down upon us. They may last a week, they have been known
to last a fortnight; again, they may curtail themselves into a few
hours, but they are never wholly absent.
At the time at which this story opens, London was having its annual
golden days; days to be associated with cool, early rides in the
crumbly Row, with sitting on small, green chairs beneath the trees
at the corner of the Park; with a general disinclination to exert
oneself, or to stop smoking cigarettes; with a temper distinctly above
its normal level, and a corresponding absence of moods. The crudeness
of spring had disappeared, but not its freshness; the warmth of the
summer had come, but not its sultriness; the winter was definitely
over and past, and even in Hyde Park the voice of the singing bird was
heard, and an old gentleman, who shall be nameless, had committed his
annual perjury by asserting in the _Morning Post_ that he had heard a
nightingale in the elm-trees by the Ladies' Mile, which was manifestly
impossible.
The sky was blue; the trees, strange to say, were green, for the leaves
were out, and even the powers of soot which hover round London had not
yet had time to shed their blackening dew upon them. The season was in
full swing, but nobody was tired of it yet, and "all London" evinced
a tendency to modified rural habits, which expressed themselves in
the way of driving down to Hurlingham, and giving water parties at
Richmond.
To state this more shortly, it was a balmy, breezy day towards the
middle of June. The shady walks that line the side of the Row were full
of the usual crowds of leisurely, well-dressed people who constitute
what is known as London. Anyone acquainted with that august and
splendid body would have seen at once that something had happened; not
a famine in China, nor a railway accident, nor a revolution, nor a
war, but emphatically "something." Conversation was a thing that made
time pass, not a way of passing the time. Obviously the larger half
of London was asking questions, and the smaller half was enjoying its
superiority, in being able to give answers. These indications are as
clear to the practised eye as the signs of the weather appear to be to
the prophet Zadkiel. To the amateur one cloud looks much like another
cloud: the prophet, on the other hand, lays a professional finger on
one and says "Thunder," while the lurid bastion, which seems fraught
with fire and tempest to the amateur, is dismissed with the wave of a
contemptuous hand.
A tall, young man was slowly making his way across the road from the
arch. He was a fair specimen of "the exhausted seedlings of our effete
aristocracy"--long-limbed, clean-shaven, about six feet two high,
and altogether very pleasant to look upon. He wore an air of extreme
leisure and freedom from the smallest touch of care or anxiety
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ABOUT IRELAND
BY
_E. LYNN LINTON._
LONDON:
METHUEN & CO.,
18, BURY STREET, W.C.
1890.
EXPLANATORY.
I am conscious that I ought to make some kind of apology for rushing
into print on a subject which I do not half know. But I do know just a
little more than I did when I was an ardent Home Ruler, influenced by
the seductive charm of sentiment and abstract principle only; and I
think that perhaps the process by which my own blindness has been
couched may help to clear the vision of others who see as I did. All
of us lay-folk are obliged to follow the leaders of those schools in
politics, science, or religion, to which our temperament and mental
idiosyncracies affiliate us. Life is not long enough for us to examine
from the beginning upwards all the questions in which we are
interested; and it is only by chance that we find ourselves set face
to face with the first principles and elemental facts of a cause to
which, perhaps, as blind and believing followers of our leaders, we
have committed ourselves with the ardour of conviction and the
intemperance of ignorance. In this matter of Ireland I believed in the
accusations of brutality, injustice, and general insolence of tyranny
from modern landlords to existing tenants, so constantly made by the
Home Rulers and their organs; and, shocking though the undeniable
crimes committed by the Campaigners were, they seemed to me the tragic
results of that kind of despair which seizes on men who, goaded to
madness by oppression, are reduced to masked murder as their sole
means of defence--and as, after all, but a sadly natural retaliation.
I knew nothing really of Lord Ashbourne's Act; and what I thought I
knew was, that it was more a blind than honest legislation, and did no
vital good. I thought that Home Rule would set all things straight,
and that the National Sentiment was one which ought to find practical
expression. I rejoiced over every election that took away one seat
from the Unionists and added another vote to the Home Rulers; and I
shut my eyes to the dismemberment of our glorious Empire and the
certainty of civil war in Ireland, should the Home Rule demanded by
the Parnellites and advocated by the Gladstonians become an
accomplished fact. In a word I committed the mistakes inevitable to
all who take feeling and conviction rather than fact and knowledge for
their guides.
Then I went to Ireland; and the scales fell from my eyes. I saw for
myself; heard facts I had never known before; and was consequently
enlightened as to the true meaning of the agitation and the real
condition of the people in their relation to politics, their
landlords, and the Plan of Campaign.
The outcome of this visit was two papers which were written for the
_New Review_--with the editor of whom, however, I stood somewhat in
the position of Balaam with Balak, when, called on to curse the
Israelites, he was forced by a superior power to bless them. So I with
the Unionists. The first paper was sent and passed, but it was delayed
by editorial difficulties through the critical months of the
bye-elections. When published in the December number, owing to the
exigencies of space, the backbone--namely the extracts from the Land
Acts, now included in this re-publication--was taken out of it, and my
own unsupported statements alone were left. I was sorry for this, as
it cut the ground from under my feet and left me in the position of
one of those mere impressionists who have already sufficiently
darkened counsel and obscured the truth of things. As the same
editorial difficulties and exigencies of space would doubtless delay
the second paper, like the first, I resolved, by the courteous
permission of the editor, to enlarge and publish both in a pamphlet
for which I alone should be responsible, and which would bind no
editor to even the semblance of endorsement.
I, only half-enlightened, write, as has been said, for the wholly
blind and ignorantly ardent who, as I did, accept sentiment for fact
and feeling for demonstration; who do not look at the solid legal
basis on which the present Government is dealing with the Irish
question; who believe all that the Home Rulers say, and nothing that
the Unionists demonstrate. I want them to study the plain and
indisputable facts of legislation as I have done, when I think they
must come to the same conclusions as those which have forced
themselves on my own
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See 41828-h.htm or 41828-h.zip:
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http://archive.org/details/generalbounceorl00whyt
GENERAL BOUNCE
[Illustration: "'Where have you been all day? You promised to
drive me out--you know you did!'"
_Page 77_]
GENERAL BOUNCE
or
The Lady and the Locusts
by
G. J. WHYTE-MELVILLE
Author of "Katerfelto," "The Interpreter," "Market Harborough," etc.
Illustrated by Frances E. Ewan
London
Ward, Lock & Co., Limited
New York and Melbourne
PREFACE
Where the rose blushes in the garden, there will the bee and the
butterfly be found, humming and fluttering around. So is it in the
world; the fair girl, whose sweetness is enhanced by the fictitious
advantages of wealth and position, will ever have lovers and admirers
enough and to spare.
Burns was no bad judge of human nature; and he has a stanza on this
subject, combining the reflection of the philosopher with the _canny_
discrimination of the Scot.
"Away with your follies of beauty's alarms,
The _slender_ bit beauty you clasp in your arms;
But gi'e me the lass that has acres of charms,
Oh, gi'e me the lass with the _weel-plenished_ farms."
Should the following pages afford such attractive young ladies matter
for a few moments' reflection, the author will not have written in
vain.
May he hope they will choose well and wisely; and that the withered
rose, when she has lost her fragrance, may be fondly prized and gently
tended by the hand that plucked her in her dewy morning prime.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. My Cousin 9
II. The Abigail 26
III. The Handsome Governess 41
IV. "Libitina" 58
V. Uncle Baldwin 72
VI. The Blind Boy 85
VII. Boot and Saddle 101
VIII. The Ball 116
IX. Want 130
X. Superfluity 146
XI. Campaigning Abroad 161
XII. Campaigning at Home 177
XIII. The World 194
XIV. To Persons about to Marry 204
XV. Penelope and her Suitors 212
XVI. Forgery 225
XVII. Club Law 236
XVIII. The Strictest Confidence 247
XIX. Dispatches 259
XX. Dawn in the East 276
XXI. Hospital 292
XXII. The Widow 303
XXIII. "Stop her" 309
XXIV. King Crack 323
XXV. "Dulce Domum" 333
XXVI. "Eudaemon" 347
XXVII. Flood and Field 360
XXVIII. "The Sad Sea Wave" 374
GENERAL BOUNCE
_OR, THE LADY AND THE LOCUSTS_
CHAPTER I
MY COUSIN
AN ENGLISHMAN'S HOLIDAY--ST. SWITHIN'S IN A CALM--THE
MERCHANT'S AMBITION--"MON BEAU COUSIN"--CASTLES IN THE AIR--A
LIVELY CRAFT--"HAIRBLOWER" AND HIS COLD BATH
Much as we think of ourselves, and with all our boasted civilisation,
we Anglo-Saxons are but a half-barbarian race after all. Nomadic,
decidedly nomadic in our tastes, feelings, and pursuits, it is but the
moisture of our climate that keeps us in our own houses at all, and
like our Scandinavian ancestors (for in turf parlance we have several
cross
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Transcribed from the 1891 Smith, Elder and Co. edition by David Price,
email [email protected]
[Picture: Book cover]
THE STUDY
OF
CELTIC LITERATURE
* * * * *
BY
MATTHEW ARNOLD
* * * * *
Popular Edition
* * * * *
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE
1891
[_All rights reserved_]
INTRODUCTION.
THE following remarks on the study of Celtic Literature formed the
substance of four lectures given by me in the chair of poetry at Oxford.
They were first published in the _Cornhill Magazine_, and are now
reprinted from thence. Again and again, in the course of them, I have
marked the very humble scope intended; which is, not to treat any special
branch of scientific Celtic studies (a task for which I am quite
incompetent), but to point out the many directions in which the results
of those studies offer matter of general interest, and to insist on the
benefit we may all derive from knowing the Celt and things Celtic more
thoroughly. It was impossible, however, to avoid touching on certain
points of ethnology and philology, which can be securely handled only by
those who have made these sciences the object of special study. Here the
mere literary critic must owe his whole safety to his tact in choosing
authorities to follow, and whatever he advances must be understood as
advanced with a sense of the insecurity which, after all, attaches to
such a mode of proceeding, and as put forward provisionally, by way of
hypothesis rather than of confident assertion.
To mark clearly to the reader both this provisional character of much
which I advance, and my own sense of it, I have inserted, as a check upon
some of the positions adopted in the text, notes and comments with which
Lord Strangford has kindly furnished me. Lord Strangford is hardly less
distinguished for knowing ethnology and languages so scientifically than
for knowing so much of them; and his interest, even from the
vantage-ground of his scientific knowledge, and after making all due
reserves on points of scientific detail, in my treatment,—with merely the
resources and point of view of a literary critic at my command,—of such a
subject as the study of Celtic Literature, is the most encouraging
assurance I could have received that my attempt is not altogether a vain
one.
Both Lord Strangford and others whose opinion I respect have said that I
am unjust in calling Mr. Nash, the acute and learned author of
_Taliesin_, _or the Bards and Druids of Britain_, a ‘Celt-hater.’ ‘He is
a denouncer,’ says Lord Strangford in a note on this expression, ‘of
Celtic extravagance, that is all; he is an anti-Philocelt, a very
different thing from an anti-Celt, and quite indispensable in scientific
inquiry. As Philoceltism has hitherto,—hitherto, remember,—meant nothing
but uncritical acceptance and irrational admiration of the beloved
object’s sayings and doings, without reference to truth one way or the
other, it is surely in the interest of science to support him in the
main. In tracing the workings of old Celtic leaven in poems which embody
the Celtic soul of all time in a mediæval form, I do not see that you
come into any necessary opposition with him, for your concern is with the
spirit, his with the substance only.’ I entirely agree with almost all
which Lord Strangford here urges, and indeed, so sincere is my respect
for Mr. Nash’s critical discernment and learning, and so unhesitating my
recognition of the usefulness, in many respects, of the work of
demolition performed by him, that in originally designating him as a
Celt-hater, I hastened to add, as the reader will see by referring to the
passage, {0a} words of explanation and apology for so calling him. But I
thought then, and I think still, that Mr. Nash, in pursuing his work of
demolition, too much puts out of sight the positive and constructive
performance for which this work of demolition is to clear the ground. I
thought then, and I think still, that in this Celtic controversy, as in
other controversies, it is most desirable both to believe and to profess
that the work of construction is the fruitful and important work, and
that we are demolishing only to prepare for it. Mr. Nash’s scepticism
seems to me,—in the aspect in which his work, on the whole, shows it,—too
absolute, too stationary, too much without a future; and this tends to
make it, for the non-Celtic part of his readers, less fruitful than it
otherwise would be, and for his Celtic readers, harsh and repellent. I
have therefore suffered my remarks on Mr. Nash still to stand, though
with a little modification; but I hope he will read them by
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THE WONDER-WORKING MAGICIAN
By Pedro Calderon de la Barca
CALDERON'S DRAMAS.
Now First Translated Fully From The Spanish In The Metre
Of The Original. By Denis Florence Mac-Carthy.
London: Henry S. King & Co.,
65 Cornhill, And 12, Paternoster Row.
1873.
INTRODUCTION.
Two of the dramas contained in this volume are the most celebrated of
all Calderon's writings. The first, "La Vida es Sueno", has been
translated into many languages and performed with success on almost
every stage in Europe but that of England. So late as the winter of
1866-7, in a Russian version, it drew crowded houses to the great
theatre of Moscow; while a few years earlier, as if to give a signal
proof of the reality of its title, and that Life was indeed a Dream,
the Queen of Sweden expired in the theatre of Stockholm during the
performance of "La Vida es Sueno". In England the play has been much
studied for its literary value and the exceeding beauty and lyrical
sweetness of some passages; but with the exception of a version by
John Oxenford published in "The Monthly Magazine" for 1842, which
being in blank verse does not represent the form of the original, no
complete translation into English has been attempted. Some scenes
translated with considerable elegance in the metre of the original
were published by Archbishop Trench in 1856; but these comprised only
a portion of the graver division of the drama. The present version
of the entire play has been made with the advantages which the
author's long experience in the
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Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Julia Neufeld and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by plus signs is Greek transliteration (+semnotes+).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
* * * * *
[Illustration: titlepage]
The Potter and the
Clay
By the
Right Rev.
Arthur F. Winnington Ingram, D.D.
Lord Bishop of London
The Young Churchman Co.
484 Milwaukee Street
Milwaukee, Wis.
Contents
I.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE POTTER'S VESSEL 3
II. THE SPLENDOUR OF GOD 15
III. GOD THE KING OF THE WORLD 27
IV. MISSIONARY WORK THE ONLY FINAL CURE FOR WAR 40
V. GOD THE CHAMPION OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 57
VI. THE KNOCKING AT THE DOOR 75
VII. IMMORTALITY 91
VIII. THE PEACE OF JERUSALEM 108
II.--TO THE CLERGY
I. MESSENGERS 123
II. PHYSICIANS 145
III. FISHERS OF MEN 160
III.--TO GIRLS
WHAT A GIRL CAN DO IN A DAY OF GOD 179
IV.--TO BOYS
THE EFFECT OF THE HOLY GHOST ON HUMAN CHARACTER 199
V.
THE WAR AND RELIGION 213
PREFACE
Another year, and we are still at War! But we must not mind, for we
must see this thing through to the end. As Mr. Oliver said in his
letter on "What we are fighting for," published this week: "We are
fighting for Restitution, Reparation, and Security, and the greatest
of these is Security." He means security that this horror shall not
happen again, and that these crimes shall not again be committed;
and he adds: "To get this security _we must destroy the power of the
system which did these things_."
Now it is clear that this power is not yet destroyed, and to make
peace while it lasts is to betray our dead, and to leave it to the
children still in the cradle to do the work over again, if, indeed,
it will be possible for them to do it if we in our generation fail.
This book, then, is an answer to the question asked me very often
during the past two years, and very pointedly from the trenches this
very Christmas Day: "How can you reconcile your belief in a good
GOD, who is also powerful, with the continuance of this desolating
War? How can we still believe the Christian message of Peace on
earth with War all around?"
It is with the hope that this book may comfort some mourning hearts,
and bring some light to doubting minds, that I send forth "The
Potter and the Clay."
A. F. LONDON.
_Feast of the Epiphany_, 1917.
I
I
THE POTTER'S VESSEL[1]
[1] Preached at St. Giles's, Cripplegate. The argument in this
sermon, stated shortly during dinner-hour in a City church, is
developed at length in the lecture which comes last in this book.
"Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will
cause thee to hear My words. Then I went down to the potter's
house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the
vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the
potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to
the potter to make it."--JER. xviii. 2-4.
I suppose there is no metaphor in Holy Scripture that has been so
much misunderstood and led to more mischief than this metaphor of
the potter and the clay. Do not you know how, if any of us dared to
vindicate the ways of GOD to men, again and again we were referred
to the words of St. Paul: "Who art thou that repliest against GOD?
Shall the thing formed say to Him that formed it: Why hast Thou
made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same
lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?"
And so the offended human conscience was silenced but not
satisfied. There is no doubt that the monstrous misrepresentation
of Christianity which we call Calvinism arose chiefly from this
metaphor; and few things have done more harm to the religion of the
world than Calvinism. Those who believe that GOD is an arbitrary
tyrant who simply works as a potter is supposed to work on clay,
irrespective of character or any plea for mercy--how can such a
person love GOD, or care for GOD, or wish to go to church or even
pray? You cannot do it!
Thus there sprang up in some men's minds just such a picture of GOD
as is described by that wonderful genius, Browning. Some of you
may have read the poem called "Caliban on Setebos," in which the
half-savage Caliban pictures to himself what sort of a person GOD
is. He had never been instructed, he knew nothing; but he imagined
that GOD would act towards mankind as he acted towards the animals
and the living creatures on his island; and this is a quotation from
that poem:
"Thinketh, such shows nor right nor wrong in Him.
Nor kind, nor cruel: He is strong and Lord.
Am strong myself compared to yonder crabs
That march now from the mountain to the sea;
Let twenty pass, and stone the twenty-first,
Loving not, hating not, just choosing so.
Say the first straggler that boasts purple spots
Shall join the file, one pincer twisted off?
Say, this bruised fellow shall receive a worm,
And two worms he whose nippers end in red;
As it likes me each time, so I do: so He."
In other words, his picture of GOD was that of an arbitrary tyrant
who rejoiced in his power, who did what he liked, who enjoyed
tormenting, who would have looked down in glee upon the pictures
that have so touched us in the paper of a woman, as she taught a
Bible-class, killed by a Zeppelin bomb; and most touching of all of
the little child who, with the stump of his arm, ran in and said:
"They've killed daddy and done this to me." These things stir our
deepest feelings; but such a GOD as Caliban pictured his Setebos to
be would have rejoiced at them and laughed to see them.
No wonder that this picture of GOD which has grown up in some
minds produces absolute despair. People say, "If GOD is like that,
what is the good of my doing anything? GOD will do what He likes,
irrespective of what I do." Or, again, it produces a spirit of
fatalism: "I'm made like that! It's not my fault." Like Aaron when
reproached about the golden calf--"I cast the gold they gave me into
the fire, and there came out this calf." And all this produces in
the mind of mankind a kind of rebellion--nay, a hatred of GOD ("I
hate GOD," said a man once to me)--which makes it quite impossible
for any religion or trust or desire to pray to exist in the human
soul. It is well worth while, then, to run this metaphor of the
potter and the clay back to its source.
Here in Jeremiah is the original passage about the potter and the
clay. Now if you read for yourself this passage in the eighteenth
chapter of Jeremiah, you will find an absolutely different picture
given. If you go with Jeremiah to the potter's house you find a
humble, patient man at work dealing with refractory clay, patiently
trying to make the best he can out of it, and when he is defeated in
producing one object he makes another. If he cannot make a porcelain
vase he will make a bowl; if he cannot produce a beautiful work of
art he makes a flower-pot.
The potter has three things to notice about him. First of all, there
is his patience. Then there is the fact that he is checked in his
design by the clay at every moment. He has no arbitrary power; he
is checked because he has to deal with a certain substance. And the
last beautiful thing about the potter is his resourcefulness; he has
always got the alternative of a second best. Though something has
wrecked his first plan he has got another. This is the picture of
GOD, these are the characteristics of GOD which we are to carry away
from the potter and the clay.
1. Now just see, if this is so, what a tremendous light this throws
upon the war. There are many to-day who do not think things out
deeply, who look on this war as the breakdown of Christianity
altogether. They say: All we have been taught, why, look how vain
it is! Here are seven Christian nations at war and dragging in the
rest of the world. All you have taught us about GOD, all you say
about Christianity, is shown to be futile. We see the breakdown of
Christianity indeed.
But wait a moment. Look at the potter and the clay, and see if you
do not get some light from this. Here is the Potter, our great GOD;
the great Potter knows what is in His mind; He has in His mind a
world of universal peace. He is planning a porcelain vase in which
the world is at peace. He meant men to be all of one mind. He made
people of one blood to be of one mind in CHRIST JESUS. That is
clearly His plan, His design, and we do well to pray for--
"... the promised time
When war shall be no more,
And lust, oppression, crime,
Shall flee Thy face before."
That is His plan, that is His design, and some day He
will see it accomplished. "He shall see of the travail of His soul
and shall be satisfied."
Meanwhile, because He acts like a potter, He is defeated again and
again by the character of the clay, for He will not run counter
to the free will of the individual or of a nation. If a great
and powerful nation deliberately turns back from Christianity to
Paganism, if that nation deliberately declares regret that it took
up Christianity in the fourth century, if it has adopted the gospel
that Might is Right, if the people turn to Odin as their ideal
instead of to CHRIST, they defeat the plan of the great Potter; and
so He cannot have the porcelain vase of universal peace. You have no
right to blame GOD; it is the work of the Devil. GOD is hindered at
every moment by the Devil and all his works; you cannot therefore
blame our great and glorious GOD for the defeat of His design. The
great Potter is not to be blamed because of the refractoriness of
the clay.
But here comes the splendid resourcefulness of the great Potter.
Although He cannot get out His first design of the porcelain vase of
universal peace, He is not defeated. He has got a second-best; He
will have a beautiful bowl of universal service--a people offering
themselves out of sheer patriotism for the service of their
country. And that is what He has produced to-day. Who would have
thought that five millions of men would have volunteered to fight
for their country? Who would have thought that every woman would
feel herself disgraced if not doing something for her country as
nurse, physician, or in a canteen? Why, the spirit of service abroad
to-day among men and women is something we have not seen in our
country for a hundred years. The great Potter, then, has produced
something from the clay; He has produced the beautiful bowl of
service. Let us thank Him for that!
2. But it is not only upon the war that the picture of the potter
and the clay throws such light; it also shows what we have to
do with our country. There are some people who imagine it is
inconsistent to say two things at the same time. People blame me for
declaring two things in the same breath. One is that we never have
had such a righteous cause; that we are fighting for the freedom of
our country, for the freedom of the world; that we are fighting for
international honour, for the future brotherhood of nations; we are
fighting for the "nailed hand against the mailed fist." But, on the
other hand, are we to speak as if we had no faults of our own? Are
we to take the tone of Pharisees and say, "We thank GOD we are not
as other men, even as these Germans"? We have to admit that we have
grave national sins ourselves, and if we want to shorten the war we
have to put these national sins away. That is why we are going to
have a national mission this autumn, and we are preparing for it now.
The Church is going to preach this great national mission,
and--please GOD--our Non-conformist brethren will fall in on their
own lines and do the same. We have great national sins, and we have
to put those away if we would shorten the war. What a disgrace it is
still to have a National Drink Bill of 180 millions! What a disgrace
it is that we have not yet more thoroughly mastered immorality
in London! What shame it is that still there is so much love of
comfort, and that there are people making all they can out of the
war!
We have to get rid of all this; we must have the spirit of sacrifice
from one end of the nation to the other. We have to ask the great
Potter to remake the country, to give the Empire a new spirit.
Why was it that, when I had myself pressed a Bill to diminish the
licensing hours on Sunday from six to three--a harmless reform,
you would have thought--to give the barmen and barmaids a chance
of Sunday rest, that was shelved in the long run? Why was it that
we could not raise the age for the protection of girls even to
eighteen? There is much to be purged out of our country, and there
could be no greater calamity than for this war to end and England
still to be left with her national sins.
Therefore the great Potter must remake us. He may have to break
some nations to pieces like a potter's vessel. It is possible for
a nation to be so stiffened in national sins that there may be
nothing for it but to break it in pieces. We pray GOD that we may
not be so far gone as that, that we may still be plastic clay in the
hands of the Potter. That is our prayer, that is our ideal, to be a
new England, a new British Empire, and that GOD may use us as His
instrument in freeing the world.
3. But--and let this be my last word--we ourselves _individually_
must be re-created. Have you ever thought, brother or sister,
that the great Potter had a design for you? That, when He planned
you, He planned a devoted man who would be a powerful influence
in the world; that He planned you, my sister, to be an example of
attractive goodness. How many people have you brought to CHRIST? How
powerful a witness do you give in this city? Suppose that you, who
were meant individually to be powerful instruments in GOD'S hand,
vessels He could use, have become middle-aged cynics, or sneer at
the religion you profess to believe in, there is only one thing
to be done. You must get back to the design the great Potter had
for you. We have all some reason to admit that we have been marred
in the hands of the Potter, and to ask the Potter to make us into
another vessel as it may seem good to the Potter to make us. In this
there are only two conditions--to look up and to trust heaven's
wheel and not earth's wheel.
"Look not thou down, but up!
To uses of a cup,
The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal,
The new wine's foaming flow,
The master's lips aglow!
Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what needst thou with earth's wheel?"[2]
[2] Browning. "Rabbi Ben Ezra."
We have to realise this, that we can be remade, that GOD'S power
can do anything; but that we may go on for ever as we are unless we
really put ourselves in the hands of GOD. What, then, I ask every
one of you, is to take the clay of your nature with the prayer,
"Just as I am, without one plea," and place it in the great Potter's
hands, that He may re-create you into the man or woman GOD meant you
to be. Nothing can more effectually shorten the days for our boys in
the trenches.
II
THE SPLENDOUR OF GOD
"O GOD, wonderful art Thou in Thy holy places: Thou wilt give
strength and power unto Thy people. Blessed be GOD."--Ps.
lxviii. 35.
At the great Convention of all the clergy of London in Advent, 1915,
we saw reasons for thinking that what the world had been losing
sight of was the _majesty_ of GOD; the lowered sense of sin, the
neglect of worship, the uppishness of man, the pessimism of the day,
and the querulous impatience under discomfort, are all signs of the
loss of the sense of the majesty of GOD.
But I want now to go farther than this; I want to prove that the
only way to revive praise, hope, peace, sacrifice, and courage, is
to revive a belief, not only in the majesty, but in the splendour of
GOD. It was said not long ago that even good Christians believed
all the Creed except the first clause of it.
But if we leave out the first clause, "I believe in GOD," see what
happens.
1. Prayer becomes unreal. It is only a delight when it is felt to be
communion with a very noble and splendid person.
"LORD, what a change within us one short hour
Spent in Thy presence can prevail to make!"[3]
is only true if that short and glorious hour is spent with an
inspiring and glorious personality. When, like Moses, our faces
should shine as we come down from the mount.
[3] T
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
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By Enos A. Mills
THE SPELL OF THE ROCKIES. Illustrated.
WILD LIFE ON THE ROCKIES. Illustrated.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
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available by the Internet Archive)
POEMS
by
RANIER MARIA RILKE
Translated by Jessie Lamont
With an Introduction by H.T.
New York
Tobias A. Wright
1918
TO THE MEMORY OF
AUGUSTE RODIN
THROUGH WHOM I CAME TO KNOW
RAINER MARIA RILKE
POEMS OF RAINER MARIA RILKE
INTRODUCTION
Acknowledgment
To the Editors of Poetry--A magazine of Verse, and Poet Lore, the
translator is indebted for permission to reprint certain poems in this
book--also to the compilers of the following anthologies--Amphora II
edited by Thomas Bird Mosher--The Catholic Anthology of World Poetry
selected by Carl van Doren.
CONTENTS
_Introduction:_
The Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke
_First Poems:_
Evening
Mary Virgin
_The Book of Pictures:_
Presaging
Autumn
Silent Hour
The Angels
Solitude
Kings in Legends
The Knight
The Boy
Initiation
The Neighbour
Song of the Statue
Maidens I
Maidens II
The Bride
Autumnal Day
Moonlight Night
In April
Memories of a Childhood
Death
The Ashantee
Remembrance
Music
Maiden Melancholy
Maidens at Confirmation
The Woman who Loves
Pont du Carrousel
Madness
Lament
Symbols
_New Poems:_
Early Apollo
The Tomb of a Young Girl
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The Project Gutenberg Etext of Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt,
Volume 2, by Francis Hueffer (translator)
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Title: Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 2
Author: Francis Hueffer (translator)
Release Date: July, 2003 [Etext #4234]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on December 13, 2001]
[Most recently updated: February 2, 2002]
Edition: 11
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
The Project Gutenberg Etext of Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 2
by Francis Hueffer (translator)
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MARCO PAUL'S
ADVENTURES
IN PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE.
FORESTS OF MAINE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
ROLLO, JONAS, AND LUCY BOOKS.
BOSTON:
T. H. CARTER & COMPANY,
118 1/2 WASHINGTON STREET.
1843.
Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1843,
BY T. H. CARTER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
STEREOTYPED BY
GEORGE A. CURTIS,
N. ENGLAND TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, BOSTON.
[Illustration: FROM THE BOYS' AND GIRLS' MAGAZINE.]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
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THE
COMIC ALMANACK.
1ST SERIES, 1835-1843.
_NOTICE._
A SECOND SERIES of "_THE COMIC ALMANACK_," embracing the years 1844—53,
a ten years' gathering of the BEST HUMOUR, the WITTIEST SAYINGS, the
Drollest Quips, and the Best Things of THACKERAY, MAYHEW, ALBERT SMITH,
A'BECKETT, ROBERT BROUGH, with nearly one thousand Woodcuts and Steel
Engravings by the inimitable CRUIKSHANK, HINE, LANDELLS—
may also be had of the Publishers of this volume, and uniform
with it, nearly 600 pages, price 7_s._ 6_d._
[Illustration:
The Cold Water Cure
]
THE
COMIC ALMANACK
AN EPHEMERIS IN JEST AND EARNEST, CONTAINING
MERRY TALES, HUMOROUS POETRY,
QUIPS, AND ODDITIES.
BY
THACKERAY, ALBERT SMITH, GILBERT A. BECKETT,
THE BROTHERS MAYHEW.
[Illustration:
"FULL INSIDE, SIR, BUT PLENTY OF ROOM ON THE ROOF."
]
=With many Hundred Illustrations=
BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK
AND OTHER ARTISTS.
_FIRST SERIES, 1835-1843._
=London:=
CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY.
CONTENTS
NOTICE
PRELIMINARY
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1835.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1836.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1837.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1838.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1839.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1840.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1841.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1842.
THE COMIC ALMANACK FOR 1843.
PRELIMINARY
THE "Comic Almanacks" of George Cruikshank have long been regarded by
admirers of this inimitable artist as among his finest, most
characteristic productions. Extending over a period of nineteen years,
from 1835 to 1853, inclusive, they embrace the best period of his
artistic career, and show the varied excellences of his marvellous
power.
The late Mr. Tilt, of Fleet Street, first conceived the idea of the
"Comic Almanack," and at various times there were engaged upon it such
writers as Thackeray, Albert Smith, the Brothers Mayhew, the late Robert
Brough, Gilbert A'Beckett, and it has been asserted, Tom Hood, the
elder. Thackeray's stories of "Stubbs' Calendar, or the Fatal Boots,"
which subsequently appeared as "Stubbs' Diary;" and "Barber Cox, or the
Cutting of his Comb," formed the leading attractions in the numbers for
1839 and 1840. The Almanack was published at 2_s._ 6_d._, but in 1848-9
the size was reduced and the price altered to 1_s._ The change did not
produce the increased circulation expected, and in 1850 it was again
enlarged and published at 2_s._ 6_d._ In this year some very spiritedly
designed folding plates were added, and this feature continued until
1853, when Mr. Tilt's partner, the late Mr. Bogue, thought proper to
discontinue the work.
For many years past, sets of the Almanack have been eagerly sought after
by collectors, and as much as 6_l._ and 7_l._ have been given for good
copies.
THE
COMIC ALMANACK
FOR 1835.
PRELUDIUM.
SCENE.—_An Apartment in the House of_ FRANCIS MOORE, _in which that
renowned Physician and Astrologer is discovered, lying at the
point of death_. _The_ NURSE _is holding up his head, while a
skilful_ MEDICINER _is dispensing a potion_. _Sundry_ OLD WOMEN
_surround his couch, in an agony of grief_. _The_ ASTROLOGER
_starteth up in a paroxysm of rage_.
_Moore._ "Throw physic to the dogs," I'll gulp no more.
I'm done for: my prophetic life is o'er.
Who are these hags? and wherefore come they here?
_Old Women._ Alack! he raves, and knows us not, poor dear!
To think he should his _only friends_ forget!
Who've fostered him, and made him quite a pet.
_Moore._ Begone, ye beldames! wherefore do ye howl?
_Old Women._ We've come to comfort your unhappy sowl.
_Nurse._ 'Tis the Old Women,—pr'ythee, do not scare 'em,—
Who to the last have bought your VOX STELLARUM;
They're sorely griev'd, and fear that you will die;
And then, alack-a-day! who'll read the sky?
_Moore._ Oh, ah!—yes—well,—just so—just so,
I see—I feel—I smell—I know—I know.
_Nurse._ Poor soul! he's going fast. Oh! shocking shock!
So kind a master.... Bless me! there's a knock!
_Enter_ RIGDUM FUNNIDOS, _in deep mourning_.
_Rig. Fun._ "Ye black and midnight hags! what is't ye do?"
_Nurse._ Speak softly, Sir; my master's turning blue.
He's not been sensible since last November.
_Rig. Fun._ (_aside_) Nor ever was, that I can e'er remember.
But we must talk before his course is run.
_Moore._ Who's that?—my sight grows dim—Is't RIGDUM FUN?
_Rig. Fun._ The same, great MOORE!
_Moore._ But, bless me! all in black!
What! mourn a _living_ man! Alack! alack!
_Rig. Fun._ I wear _prospective_ mourning, thus to shew
The solemn grandeur of _prophetic woe_.
_Moore._ The thought is _lively_, though the subject's _grave_;
And, therefore, you my free forgiveness have.
_Rig. Fun._ How can I serve you, ere you vanish hence?
_Moore._ I wish you'd cut the throat of COMMON SENSE.
To him I owe my death. That cruel wight
Long on my hopes has cast a fatal blight.
I knew I had receiv'd the mortal blow,
When first he wounded me, six years ago;
And every year the knave has stronger grown,
While ev'ry year has sunk me lower down.
_Rig. Fun._ I will avenge you;—nay, I'll go much further:
The "Crowner's quest" shall find him guilty "Murther."
The common hangman shall cut short his breath;
And, by a shameful end, avenge _your_ death.
_Moore._ 'Tis kindly said; and I in peace shall die.
Say, is there aught that _you_ would ask of _I_?
_Rig. Fun._ Oh, FRANCIS MOORE! who soon _no_ MORE wilt be;
I came, a precious boon to beg of thee:—
One gracious favour, ere you breathe your last,—
_On_ ME _your Prophet's mantle deign to cast!_
Let _me_ be raised to your deserted throne,
And call your countless subjects all my own.
Then let the mirth, they levell'd once at thee,
Fall, if it will, with tenfold force on me.
If all will laugh at _me_, who laugh'd at _you_,
The frowns of fortune I no more shall rue;
Nay, with such temper would I bear their jeers,
I could endure them for a hundred years.
_Moore._ Life's ebbing fast; my sands are nearly run;
But you shall have what you request, my son!
Now, sit you down, and write what I shall say,—
The last bright glimmerings of the taper's ray.
I'll shew you how to pen those strains so well,
Of which the meaning no one e'er could tell.
Send forth the women;—draw a little nigher;
My brain is heating with prophetic fire.
_Rig. Fun._ Matrons, abscond! (_They depart glumpishly; carrying
off the Mediciner._) Now, Dad, I'm all attention,
To learn the wisdom that's past comprehension.
_Moore._ "The fiery Mars with furious fury rages."
_Rig. Fun._ I've penn'd that down, most erudite of sages!
_Moore._ "The Dog-star kindles with inflaming ire."
_Rig. Fun._ Just wait a moment, while I stir the fire.
_Moore._ "
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UMBRELLAS AND THEIR HISTORY
By William Sangster
"Munimen ad imbres."
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY
CHAPTER II.
THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE UMBRELLA
CHAPTER III.
THE UMBRELLA IN ENGLAND
CHAPTER IV.
THE STORY OF THE PARACHUTE
CHAPTER V.
UMBRELLA STORIES
CHAPTER VI.
THE REGENERATION OF THE UMBRELLA
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
Can it be possibly believed, by the present eminently practical
generation, that a busy people like the English, whose diversified
occupations so continually expose them to the chances and changes of
a proverbially fickle sky, had ever been ignorant of the blessings
bestowed on them by that dearest and truest friend in need and in
deed, the UMBRELLA? Can you, gentle reader, for instance, realise to
yourself the idea of a man not possessing such a convenience for
rainy weather?
Why so much unmerited ridicule should be poured upon the head (or
handle) of the devoted Umbrella, it is hard to say. What is there
comic in an Umbrella? Plain, useful, and unpretending, if any of
man's inventions ever deserved sincere regard, the Umbrella is, we
maintain, that invention. Only a few years back those who carried
Umbrellas were held to be legitimate butts. They were old fogies,
careful of their health, and so on; but now-a-days we are wiser.
Everybody has his Umbrella. It is both cheaper and better made than
of old; who, then, so poor he cannot afford one? To see a man going
out in the rain umbrella-less excites as much mirth as ever did the
sight of those who first--wiser than their generation--availed
themselves of this now universal shelter. Yet still a touch of the
amusing clings to the "Gamp," as it is sarcastically called. 'What
says Douglas Jerrold on the subject? "There are three things that no
man but a fool lends, or, having lent, is not in the most helpless
state of mental crassitude if he ever hopes to get back again. These
three things, my son, are--BOOKS, UMBRELLAS, and MONEY! I believe a
certain fiction of the law assumes a remedy to the borrower; but I
know of no case in which any man, being sufficiently dastard to
gibbet his reputation as plaintiff in such a suit, ever fairly
succeeded against the wholesome prejudices of society. Umbrellas may
be 'hedged about' by cobweb statutes; I will not swear it is not so;
there may exist laws that make such things property; but sure I am
that the hissing contempt, the loud-mouthed indignation of all
civilised society, 'would sibilate and roar at the bloodless poltroon
who should engage law on his side to obtain for him the restitution
of a--lent Umbrella!"
Strange to say, it is a fact, melancholy enough, but for all that
too true, that our forefathers, scarce seventy years agone, meekly
endured the pelting of the pitiless storm without that protection
vouchsafed to their descendants by a kind fate and talented
inventors. The fact is, the Umbrella forms one of the numerous
conveniences of life which seem indispensable to the present
generation, because just so long a time has passed since their
introduction, that the contrivances which, in some certain degree,
previously supplied their place, have passed into oblivion.
We feel the convenience we possess, without being always aware of
the gradations which intervened between it and the complete
inconvenience of being continually unsheltered from the rain, without
any kind friend from whom to seek the protection so ardently desired.
Fortunately a very simple process will enable the reader to realise
the fact in its full extent; he need only walk about in a pelting
shower for some hours without an Umbrella, or when the weight of a
cloak would be insupportable, and at the same time remember that
seventy years ago a luxury he can now purchase in almost every street,
was within the reach of but very few, while omnibuses and cabs were
unknown.
But, apart from considerations of comfort, we may safely claim very
much higher qualities as appertaining to the Umbrella. We may even
reckon it among the causes that have contributed to lengthen the
average of human life, and hold it a most effective
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The Province of Midwives in the Practice of their Art,
by William Clark, M. D. 1698–ca. 1780.
THE PROVINCE OF MIDWIVES
IN THE
Practice of their ART:
Instructing them in the timely Knowledge of such
_Difficulties_ as require the Assistance of MEN,
For the Preservation of
MOTHER and CHILD.
Very necessary for the Perusal of ALL the SEX
interested in the Subject,
And interspersed with some
_New_ and _Useful_ OBSERVATIONS.
_By_ WILLIAM CLARK, _M. D._
_And of the_ College _of_ PHYSICIANS.
_Molliter Aufer Onus._ OVID. FASTI.
Printed for _William Frederick_, in BATH; and sold by
_M. Cooper_, in _Pater-Noster-Row_, LONDON.
MDCCLI.
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER.
_The following small Tract will appear contemptible to those who
judge of the Worth of Books by their Bulk; but the Author believes
such as are practis’d in Midwifry will acknowledge both the Want
and Usefulness of an Essay of this Kind._
_The Division of the Chapters, naturally arising from the various
Circumstances which are treated of, will rather assist than
burden the Memory, and admit of a ready Recourse to the short
Instructions, in the Knowledge and Practice_ absolutely necessary,
_given under each Head._
_The Reader will the more readily excuse any Defect in the Stile,
when he considers_ _the Necessity of a strict Expression on the
Subject and the Difficulty a Man lies under, who writes not to
the learned and experienced, but chiefly for the Sake of Persons
ignorant in Anatomy and Philosophy, on a Subject which for the most
Part excludes Information by Sight._
_On such a Subject it will not be imagined Vanity or Applause can
incline a Man to write a Pamphlet, rather than a Volume; when the
Author is not conscious of having omitted the Instruction to be
found in any Book extant, within the Limits of his Design; and
hopes Experience will teach its Value both to Midwives and Matrons;
and that the Perusal will not at all injure, if it does not
improve, the most knowing and experienced._
* * * * *
The READER is desir’d to correct the following ERRORS with the Pen.
Page 9, Line 16, _read_ Pains about the Back, Navel, _&c._—P. 33,
l. 12. omit the Period after the Word Pain; and make a Semicolon,
instead of the Comma, after touch’d it.
CHAPTER I.
_The_ DESIGN.
The Case of _Child-bearing_ Women is very lamentable, in the
Country especially, by Reason of the Ignorance and Unskilfulness
of _Midwives_; for by their Negligence and perverse Management,
many Mothers and Children are destroyed, to the great Misfortune of
particular Families, as well as of the _Publick_, at a Time when it
suffers by the Loss of useful Hands, from too many other Causes. It
were therefore to be wished, that all Midwives were so far appris’d
of their Duty, as to be able to distinguish between Cases within
their Abilities, and such Difficulties as may occasion the Loss of
the Mother, or Child, or both, for Want of necessary Assistance.
They who intend to practice Midwifry in PARIS, are oblig’d to
attend _anatomical_ Lectures and _Dissections_, that their
Judgments may be inform’d, by the Knowledge of the Structure of the
Body, for an Undertaking so hazardous in ignorant Hands.
London, at present, affords equal Advantages of Information; for
the _anatomical_ Wax-work, with suitable Lectures, might furnish as
good a Qualification, with less Offence than real Dissections; and
there are not wanting those who professedly instruct both Sexes by
_mechanical Demonstrations_.
And for the future, it is to be hoped, there will be no Necessity
for Men to have Recourse to PARIS for _Observation_, since we have
_Infirmaries_ at Home for the Accommodation of Women in Child-bed;
and tho’ they are expos’d naked to the Eye in the _Hotel de Dieu_,
it must be confess’d, that the fundamental Rules of the _Art_ are
not built on what the Eye of the Observer can possibly discover in
the most expert _Operators_; but depend on Circumstances conceal’d
from Sight, within the Body of the Patient.
But whatever Advantages LONDON and WESTMINSTER afford for the
Instruction of Midwives, the Country is entirely destitute of them;
and the best Books on the Subject, adorn’d with elegant Figures,
can give but a very imperfect Notion of the Parts they represent,
to any who have not attended _Dissections_, or seen more natural
_Resemblances_ than Cuts.
The Figures in Books, exhibit the _Bones_ of the _Pelvis_, a
Variety of _Situations_ of the Infant, and _Uterus_, the Placenta
and umbilical Vessels and Membranes, _&c._ whereas it would be
no less serviceable to those, who assist Women in Travel, to be
acquainted with the Viscera, liable to suffer by a difficult
Labour; for the _Liver_, _Spleen_, _Sweetbread_ and _Kidneys_,
if not the principal Contents of the Chest, may be so injured by
the ill _Position_ of the Child, Compression of the Parts, and
rash Assistance, as to prove fatal, more or lets immediately;
occasioning _Inflammations_, _Suppurations_, _Mortifications_,
_Schirrhu’s_, _Cancers_, or _Consumptions_.
The best Writers of Midwifry, such as _Mauriceau_, _Deventer_, _De
la Motte_, _Heister_ and others, explain the Causes of difficult
Births, and the proper Methods of Assistance; but instead of
improving most _Country_ Midwives, fill them with Conceits of what,
it is impossible, they should understand, and thereby occasion the
Loss of great Numbers of Women and Children.
In order therefore that Midwives may acquit themselves with
Reputation, and that _Child-bearing_ Women may be the better
Judges for themselves, or the charitable Part of the Sex, who are
past these Dangers, the better able to assist their Friends and
Neighbours, I shall endeavour to shew how far they may act with
Safety under the Disadvantage of Country Practice, and describe
those Symptoms, which for the most Part accompany hard Labours,
very probably beyond their Abilities; when they will justly incur
the Censure of Inhumanity and Rashness to depend upon their own
Skill.
CHAPTER II.
In this Chapter I have avoided the Use of Terms of Art, or
explain’d them, in Regard to those for whom I chiefly write, as
far as my Regard to Decency admits; but if any Word should occur
not easily understood by any of my Readers, almost any _English_
Dictionary will explain its Meaning; and it cannot be expected that
any Book can instruct those who cannot read, tho’ I am sorry to say
too many such assume the Office of _Midwives_.
As Curiosity may reasonably induce many of the Sex concern’d in
the Subject of these Sheets, to be inform’d of somewhat of the
Provision supreme Wisdom has made for the Existence of Children in
the Womb, I shall briefly mention the most obvious _Instruments_
relating to their Breeding and Birth, without puzzling my Readers
with minute _anatomical_ Descriptions.
The Vagina, or Passage, lies between the Neck of the _Bladder_ and
the large or strait Gut; it is connected at the inward extreme to
the _Womb_, and called the _outward Orifice_ at its beginning.
The _Womb_ lies between the _Bladder_ and _Strait Gut_, and is
connected to both; during the Time of _Breeding_ it increases in
its _Dimensions_, and rising higher in the Body, by Reason of
the Weight and Substance of it, with its Contents, at the Fund,
or remote End of it, may be liable to swag too much _forward_ or
_backward_, or incline more or less to either Side, especially in
such, as by their Occasions of Industry in Life are obliged to
a Variety of _indirect_ Situations; by which Means the _inward_
Orifice is perverted from a _direct Site_ with Respect to the
Passage, and obstructs an easy Exclusion of the Infant in Travel.
The _Placenta_ or _After-birth_, adhering to the _Fund_ of the
_Womb_, receives the _Mother_’s Blood, by the _Umbilical-Vessels_,
or _Navel-String_, conveys it to the Child for its Nourishment, and
retransmits what is superfluous; maintaining by the Intercourse of
_Arteries_ and _Veins_, the Circulation of the Blood between Mother
and Child.
The _Membranes_ closely connected to the _Placenta_, and the _Fund_
of the _Womb_, between both which they seem to take their Rise,
contain the _Humours_ in which the Infant swims, the better to
preserve it from Injuries, by its Pressure against _unyielding_
Parts, and the _Humours_ before, and after the _Breaking_ of the
_Membranes_, commonly call’d the _Breaking of the Waters_, in the
Birth, very much facilitate it, by opening the _inward Orifice_
of the _Womb_, and lubricating the _Passage_ for the Child: These
_Membranes_ come away with the _Placenta_, under the Name of the
_After-birth_, or _Secundines_, indifferently.
The _Pelvis_ or _Bason_, wherein the _Uterus_ or _Womb_ is seated,
is form’d by the _forward_ Bones, commonly call’d the _Share-Bone_,
the _Hip-Bones_ and their Continuation on each Side, and the lower
Part of the _Back-Bone_, all which are so contiguous to each other,
as to form this Cavity, generally much larger in Women than Men,
cloathed with Muscles, between which the _Vagina_ is inserted.
The right Formation of the _Pelvis_, is of the greatest Consequence
in Favour of an _easy_ Birth; when the _Bones_ forming it,
_forward_ and _backward_, and on _each_ Side, both above and below,
don’t too much approach each other, and prevent the Exclusion of
the Child between, by a free Admission.
CHAPTER III.
_The Symptoms preceeding_ Natural Labours.
I shall pass over the Symptoms of Pregnancy, and the Distinctions
of true and false Conceptions, as Things of which Midwives can
seldom be expected to be _proper_ Judges, and proceed to their
Business, _Natural Labours_; comprehending, under this Name, all
such Cases, which require no further Assistance than _Midwives_, in
a general Way, may easily give; or in their Absence a Nurse, or any
sensible Woman, who has attended Deliveries.
After the Woman has gone her due Time of Nine Months, the most
usual Term; the Signs preceeding Labour are Pains about the Back,
Navel and Loins; a considerable Falling of the Tumour of the Belly,
by the Burden’s sinking lower; and incommoding the Woman in
walking; a more frequent Inclination to make Water: These Symptoms
increase in Proportion as the Birth approaches; but as the most
certain Knowledge of _natural_ Births, can only be obtained by
_Touching_ the Woman in Labour, after having premised some Things
concerning her _proper_ Situation; I shall direct how it ought to
be done.
CHAPTER IV.
_Of_ SITUATION.
Many in the Country choose to be on their _Legs_ or _Knees_,
supported by a Woman on each Side, or _lean_ on a Chair or Bed, and
pass well enough through the present Scene of their Miseries: But
I would preferably advise a Posture between _lying_ and _sitting_,
on a _Pallet_ or _common_ Bed, the _Head_ and _Shoulders_ being
_rais’d_ by Bolsters or Pillows, the Feathers _beat back_ from the
Bed’s Feet, to support the hollow of the Loins, and prevent the
Pressure of any Thing against the _Bottom_ of the Back Bone, to
obstruct the Passage of the Child.
This _Situation_ is most commodious, during Labour, for a Woman to
_assist_ her Pains with the greater Freedom of Respiration, and the
least Fatigue and Expence of Spirits; especially if the _labouring_
Woman lay hold of a _folded_ Napkin, held stiffly for that Purpose,
drawing her Feet _upwards_ towards her Seat, _separating_ her
Knees, and _fixing_ her Feet against something that will not easily
give Way.
If the Person in Labour will not be in Bed, the End may be
answered by her _sitting_ in _another_’s Lap, with the _Bottom_ of
her Back-Bone situate between the other’s Knees, with her _own_
separated and supported, and Feet fixed as aforesaid, to favour
her bearing down.
’Tis inconsistent with the Design of my Writing to describe all
the _convenient_ Situations, necessary in Cases of Difficulty, yet
when the Operator has rectified all Obstructions to the Birth, the
same Situation of the Body upon a _Slope_, from the Head downwards
is most suitable, even altho’, for Conveniency, she should be
deliver’d lying on one Side.
I shall, on this Occasion, observe, what I have found Advantageous
in my own Experience, as well as consonant to the Advice of the
best Writers on the Subject: That the Delivery on the _Back_, by
the Assistance of one placed on _each Side_, supporting her by
the _Hams_, with her Knees _separated_, and raising her _Back
Bone_ a little from the Bed during the _Activity_ of Pains, and
the _Midwife_’s _Assistance_ of either Sex, is vastly preferable
to the Delivery on _one Side_, to which I impute the Loss of many
Children brought by _Turning_, as well as a more _tedious_ Labour
in other Cases; because this Posture, in some Degree, _contracts_
the _Passage_, and only admits the proper Separation of _one_ Knee.
CHAPTER V.
_Concerning_ TOUCHING.
This ought to be put in Practice, as soon as, from the Symptoms
given in the Third Chapter, it is reasonable to expect the Birth
approaching; and a _Child-bearing_ Person would be very much her
own Enemy to refuse the only Means of giving a _true_ Information
of her Case, and the Knowledge how to do her the most effectual
Service.
The Midwife, having her Nails well pared, and very smooth, and her
Fingers anointed with Oil or Lard, must introduce the two _fore
Fingers_ of either Hand into the _Passage_ or _Neck_ of the _Womb_,
as far as its _inward_ Orifice, directing them with a _gentle_
and _easy_ Motion, somewhat upwards, as it were with a Tendency
through the _Passage_ towards the _Navel_; in this Search she will
find the _internal_ Orifice, joining the _Passage_ or _Neck_ of
the _Womb_ more or less open, relaxed, and thinner than usual;
and cautiously protruding her Fingers farther, she may possibly
touch the _Crown_ of the Child’s Head; she will easily, by the
_Sutures_, or _Opening_ between the Bones of the Skull, distinguish
the _Crown_: Keeping her Fingers in this Situation, _during_ the
Beginning, and Continuance of _strong_ Pains, she will observe the
_Waters_ contain’d in the _Membranes_ including the Child, and
After-birth _forming_ within the _inward_ Orifice, as if something
like a Bladder _blown_, or _distended_ with Water, presented to
the _Touch_, dilating the _Orifice_ with each _Throw_; these
Appearances presage a _speedy_ and _easy_ Birth.
CHAPTER VI.
_Of a natural_ Birth, _and the_ Office _of the Midwife._
As the _Birth_ approaches, the Woman grows _hotter_ and _red_ in
the Face; the Pains bear more _strongly_ down; the _internal_
Orifice _opens_; the _Vagina_ or _Passage_, at its _Entrance_,
becomes more swell’d, as the Child’s Head advances; and the
_Membranes_ are more and more _tensely_ stretched; before the
_Birth_, the Person is often seized with a _Vomiting_, and
_universal_ Tremor, without the Coldness of an _Ague_; and very
often a _Humour_, _discolour’d_ with _Blood_, immediately preceeds
the _Breach_ of the _Membranes_; when these Symptoms, or several
of them, become urgent, ’tis Time to put the Woman in a proper
Situation, as describ’d in the preceeding Chapter: The Midwife
ought by no Means to break the _Membranes_, but _encourage_ the
Woman now to make the best of her Pains, by _strongly bearing
down_, as if going to Stool; the Midwife with her Fingers well
anointed, putting them gently within the _internal_ Orifice, may
cautiously, by separating them, assist its _opening_, and Removing
it more behind the Child’s Head, thereby gradually promote its more
easy Transmission, and at the same Time prevent, if necessary, the
Womb from being too far protruded: After the _Waters_ are _broke_,
as it is called, and the _Head_ of the Child comes into the
_Passage_, the Midwife may lay hold on each Side of it, taking Care
not to bruise it by rough Handling, and drawing it, by _Waving_ her
Hands, if necessary, to loosen it, when fixed, rather than in a
strait Line, assist the Birth; and if obstructed by the Shoulders
in the Passage, inserting a Finger under each Arm-Pit, extricate
them by the like Action.
’Tis true, it happens, tho’ unobserv’d by Writers, as far as
I remember, that _many_ Women have no _Waters breaking away_,
either before or after the Birth; whether absorbed or not, in
Time of Labour, I shall not at present determine; this is called,
by the Country People, a _dry_ Labour, and often attended with
Difficulty; however, if the _Crown_ appear _forward_, the Issue may
nevertheless be favourable.
The Child being born, the next Business is to tie the
_Navel-string_ with a _waxed_ Thread, so _doubled_, as not to
endanger _cutting_, about _two_ Inches from the Child’s Body,
making another Ligature near the Body of the Mother, so far distant
from the former, as may be convenient for _Cutting_ between _both_
Ligatures, and separating the Infant from its _After-birth_.
Midwives are too apt to leave a greater Length, which can be of no
Service, but has been thought, on the contrary, by our Countryman
CHAPMAN, to occasion _Navel_ Ruptures.
After the _Separation_ of the _Navel-string_, the Care to get the
_After-birth_ succeeds; this will often come by the Assistance of
Nature, with a gentle Motion of the Hand gradually drawing and
loosening it, by the Navel-string: But if it adheres to the _Fund_
of the _Womb_, which is frequently the Case, whether from the
_Waters_ being come away before the Birth or otherwise; it must
cautiously be separated, and extracted by the Hand, to prevent the
most mischievous and fatal Consequences.
The Assistant holding the _Navel-string_ with _one_ Hand, must
with great Caution introduce the _other_ into the _Womb_, avoiding
_all Violence_ to any Part in the Way, ’till she reaches the
_After-birth_, some Part of which probably, being loosened, will
be found more _forward_ than the rest; which _taking_ between her
_Thumb_ and _Fore-Fingers_, she must, by an easy Motion of her
other Fingers, between the _Womb_ and _After-birth_, gradually
_separate_ the Parts adhering all _round_, ’till finding the
whole free, before the Palm of the Hand and Fingers, she brings it
intirely away; for should any Part remain, the poor Woman’s Labour
would still continue, and occasion _dangerous_ Floodings, requiring
the immediate Assistance of an able Hand, to rescue the Patient
from the immediate Hazard of Death.
Sometimes when the _Womb_ has discharged its _Waters_, and the
_Child_, by Reason of a Defect of Pains, or otherwise, remains
_long_ very _forward_ near the _Birth_, the _Womb_ so _contracts_
about the _After-birth_, as to make the _Separation_ of it very
difficult; in which case Assistance is requisite, from one well
acquainted with the Structure of the Body; and the longer this is
delay’d, the more Danger there will be of all the bad Consequences
of the Retention, and Corruption of the _After-birth_ in the Body.
It requires great Care to prevent the _Protrusion_ of the _Womb_ in
some Women of a _large Pelvis_, or _Opening_ between the _Bones_;
or if the _After-birth_ remains closely fixed, the _Womb_, in a
very _open Pelvis_, may be _thrust_ by the Violence of the Pains;
or _drawn_ out of the Body by an _unskilful_ Hand, which is
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Produced by Chris Curnow, Nicole Henn-Kneif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
OLD PICTURE BOOKS
OLD PICTURE BOOKS
WITH OTHER ESSAYS ON
BOOKISH SUBJECTS, BY
ALFRED W. POLLARD
[Illustration]
LONDON: METHUEN AND CO
36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. 1902
To JOHN MACFARLANE,
_Librarian of the Imperial Library, Calcutta._
_My dear Macfarlane_,--
_Just as you had completed a valuable monograph on that
enterprising French publisher Antoine Verard, you were whirled away
to India to organise a great library at Calcutta. I have seen it
stated in the newspapers, on high authority, that your Imperial
Library is to be a second British Museum, but I am afraid that,
even when fully developed by your energy and skill, it will contain
no Verards. I hope, however, that when you come over on furlough
you will resume the pleasant studies we used to pursue together,
and that you may even be induced to read another paper before the
learned Society of which you were once my fellow secretary. To keep
alive your interest in old books is thus a reasonable pretext for
dedicating to you these bookish essays. My real hope is that as
they stand on your book-shelf they may remind you of the original
British Museum and of the many friends you left behind here after
your seventeen years' work amid our Bloomsbury fogs._
_Faithfully yours_,
ALFRED W. POLLARD
NOTE
The paper on 'England and the Bookish Arts' originally appeared as an
introduction to 'The English Bookman's Library' (Kegan Paul and Co.).
The other Essays are reprinted from 'Bibliographica,' 'The Connoisseur,'
'The Guardian,' 'The Library,' 'The King's College School Magazine,'
'Longman's Magazine,' 'Macmillan's Magazine,' 'The Newbery House
Magazine,' 'The Pageant,' and the 'Transactions' of the Bibliographical
Society. Separate acknowledgment of its source is made at the beginning
of each paper, but the author desires here to thank the Publishers and
Editors to whom he is indebted for permission to reprint. All the essays
have been revised, and some of the illustrations appear here for the
first time.
CONTENTS
PAGE
OLD PICTURE BOOKS 3
FLORENTINE RAPPRESENTAZIONI AND THEIR PICTURES 11
TWO ILLUSTRATED ITALIAN BIBLES 37
A BOOK OF HOURS 51
THE TRANSFERENCE OF WOODCUTS IN THE FIFTEENTH AND
SIXTEENTH CENTURIES 73
ES TU SCHOLARIS? 99
ENGLISH BOOKS PRINTED ABROAD 106
SOME PICTORIAL AND HERALDIC INITIALS 124
ENGLAND AND THE BOOKISH ARTS 146
THE FIRST ENGLISH BOOK SALE 159
JOHN DURIE'S 'REFORMED LIBRARIE-KEEPER' 172
WOODCUTS IN ENGLISH PLAYS PRINTED BEFORE 1660 183
HERRICK AND HIS FRIENDS 200
A POET'S STUDIES 216
PRINTERS' MARKS OF THE FIFTEENTH$1 $2D SIXTEENTH
CENTURIES 227
THE FRANKS COLLECTION OF ARMORIAL BOOK-STAMPS 242
BY ALICE POLLARD
A QUEEN ANNE POCKET-BOOK 260
WHY MEN DON'T MARRY 273
[Illustration: THE SIEGE OF NOVA TROJA. FROM GRUeNINGER'S 'VIRGIL':
STRASSBURG, 1502]
OLD PICTURE BOOKS
In the edition of Virgil published by Grueninger at Strassburg in 1502,
Sebastian Brant boasted that the illustrations to it, whose preparation
he had superintended, made the story of the book as plain to the
unlearned as to the learned:
'Hic legere historias commentaque plurima doctus,
Nec minus indoctus perlegere illa potest.'
The boast was no ill-founded one, though it must be granted that Virgil
would have been puzzled by the cannon here shown as employed in the
siege of Nova Troja, and similar mediaevalisms abound throughout the
volume. Coming almost at the end of the first series of early
illustrated books, the Virgil of
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Title: The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication
Volume I
Author: Charles Darwin
Release Date: October, 2001 [Etext #2871]
Edition: 10
The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Variation of Animals and
Plants under Domestication Volume I by Charles Darwin
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