A Motor Trip in San Diego's Back Country. Come, you men and women automobilists, get off the paved streets of Los Angeles and betake yourselves to the back country of San Diego county, where you can enjoy automobile life to the utmost during the summer. There drink in the pure air of the mountains, perfumed with the breath of pines and cedars, the wild lilacs, the sweet-pea vines, and a thousand aromatic shrubs and plants that render every... more...

We had the driver let us off in the central district and took a copter-taxi back to Homefield. There's no disgrace about it, of course; we just didn't feel like having all the neighbors see the big skycar with Lydna Project painted on its side, and then having them drop in casually to express what they would call interest and we would know to be curiosity. There are people who boast that their sons and daughters have been picked for Lydna. What... more...

The printed story of Niagara dates back only three centuries; and during the first three decades of even that period the references to this wonderful handiwork of Nature—which was located in a then unexplored region of a New World, a Continent then inhabited only by warring tribes of superstitious Savages—are few and far between. Three facts relating to this locality—and three only—seem to be proven as ante-dating the... more...

THE EAGLE AND THE MOLE Avoid the reeking herd,Shun the polluted flock,Live like that stoic bird,The eagle of the rock. The huddled warmth of crowdsBegets and fosters hate;He keeps, above the clouds,His cliff inviolate. When flocks are folded warm,And herds to shelter run,He sails above the storm,He stares into the sun. If in the eagle's trackYour sinews cannot leap,Avoid the lathered pack,Turn from the steaming sheep. If you would keep your... more...

THE OLD BACHELOR'S STORY. In the city block where I live, there are just twenty-four houses on the other side of the street, and twenty-four on this side, six lamp posts, and eight ailanthus trees in green boxes. Oh, dear me, what a tiresome row! That's what I thought when I first came to lodge here; for, as I am an old bachelor, I don't want a whole house to myself; but now, when I sit at my window and look out at the street, I find no end of... more...

WHAT IS THE IDEA? We have only started on our development of our country—we have not as yet, with all our talk of wonderful progress, done more than scratch the surface. The progress has been wonderful enough—but when we compare what we have done with what there is to do, then our past accomplishments are as nothing. When we consider that more power is used merely in ploughing the soil than is used in all the industrial... more...

CHAPTER I THE NEW POOR I Arthur Charles Prohack came downstairs at eight thirty, as usual, and found breakfast ready in the empty dining-room. This pleased him, because there was nothing in life he hated more than to be hurried. For him, hell was a place of which the inhabitants always had an eye on the clock and the clock was always further advanced than they had hoped. The dining-room, simply furnished with reproductions of chaste... more...

CHARACTER OF THE SCENERY OF TOURAINE. Although there is little that can be denominated bold, or strikingly romantic, in the general aspect of the country around Tours, it nevertheless, possesses charms of a peculiar and novel nature, alike calculated to gratify a lover of the picturesque, tranquillize the mind, and renovate the enfeebled energies of the valetudinarian. Hence it has long been famed as a favourite resort, more especially, of... more...

CHAPTER I. PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. Writings on hygiene and health have been accessible for centuries, but never before have books and magazines on these subjects been as numerous as they are today. Most of the information is so general, vague and indefinite that only a few have the time and patience to read the thousands of pages necessary to learn what to do to keep well. The truth is to be found in the archives of medicine, in writings... more...

CHAPTER I. A sad breakfast—The Sherman Family—The language of flowers—What a Young Man was sure of—The Parting.   arly in the morning of a long ago midsummer's day, the inmates of a quiet New England home were making unusual preparations for the approaching repast. The mistress of the house was ostensibly overseeing the table; but there was an uncertainty in her movements, which indicated a contradictory mingling... more...