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With the Night Mail At nine o'clock of a gusty winter night I stood on the lower stages of one of the G. P. O. outward mail towers. My purpose was a run to Quebec in "Postal Packet 162 or such other as may be appointed"; and the Postmaster-General himself countersigned the order. This talisman opened all doors, even those in the despatching-caisson at the foot of the tower, where they were delivering the sorted Continental mail. The... more...

THE EDUCATION OF OTIS YEERE I In the pleasant orchard-closes'God bless all our gains,' say we;But 'May God bless all our losses,'Better suits with our degree.The Lost Bower. This is the history of a failure; but the woman who failed said that it might be an instructive tale to put into print for the benefit of the younger generation. The younger generation does not want instruction, being perfectly willing to instruct if any one will listen to... more...

THE CAPTIVE FROM THE MASJID-AL-AQSA OF SAYYID AHMED (WAHABI)   Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining  He answered his name at the muster and stood to the chaining.  When the twin anklets were nipped on the leg-bars that held them,  He brotherly greeted the armourers stooping to weld them.  Ere the sad dust of the marshalled feet of the chain-gang swallowed him,  Observing him... more...

THE AUXILIARIES I The Navy is very old and very wise. Much of her wisdom is on record and available for reference; but more of it works in the unconscious blood of those who serve her. She has a thousand years of experience, and can find precedent or parallel for any situation that the force of the weather or the malice of the King's enemies may bring about. The main principles of sea-warfare hold good throughout all ages, and, so far as the... more...

The Cities are full of pride,Challenging each to each—This from her mountain-side,That from her burthened beach. They count their ships full tale—Their corn and oil and wine,Derrick and loom and bale,And rampart's gun-flecked line;City by city they hail:"Hast aught to match with mine?" And the men that breed from themThey traffic up and down,But cling to their cities' hemAs a child to the mother's gown. When they talk with the... more...


HOW FEAR CAME The stream is shrunk—the pool is dry,And we be comrades, thou and I;With fevered jowl and dusty flankEach jostling each along the bank;And by one drouthy fear made still,Forgoing thought of quest or kill.Now 'neath his dam the fawn may see,The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he,And the tall buck, unflinching, noteThe fangs that tore his father's throat.The pools are shrunk—the streams are dry,And we be playmates, thou and... more...

The Law, as quoted, lays down a fair conduct of life, and one not easy to follow. I have been fellow to a beggar again and again under circumstances which prevented either of us finding out whether the other was worthy. I have still to be brother to a Prince, though I once came near to kinship with what might have been a veritable King and was promised the reversion of a Kingdom — army, law-courts, revenue and policy all complete. But,... more...

Mowgli's Brothers Now Rann the Kite brings home the nightThat Mang the Bat sets free—The herds are shut in byre and hutFor loosed till dawn are we.This is the hour of pride and power,Talon and tush and claw.Oh, hear the call!—Good hunting allThat keep the Jungle Law!Night-Song in the Jungle It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and... more...

A RETIRED GENTLEMAN From Bishen Singh Saktawut, Subedar Major, 215th Indurgurh [Todd's] Rajputs, now at Lyndhurst, Hampshire, England, this letter is sent to Madhu Singh, Sawant, Risaldar Major [retired] 146th [Dublana] Horse, on his fief which he holds under the Thakore Sahib of Pech at Bukani by the River, near Chiturkaira, Kotah, Rajputana, written in the fifth month of the year 1916, English count. Having experienced five months of this... more...

THE RECALL I am the land of their fathers.In me the virtue stays.I will bring back my children,After certain days. Under their feet in the grassesMy clinging magic runs.They shall return as strangers,They shall remain as sons. Over their heads in the branchesOf their new-bought, ancient trees,I weave an incantationAnd draw them to my knees. Scent of smoke in the evening.Smell of rain in the night,The hours, the days and the seasons,Order... more...