THE LITTLE KITTENS. Only to think! A letter from Aunt Fanny to the little ones, which begins in this fanny way: "You Darling Kittens—" All the small children looked at Mary O'Reilly—who sat staring at the fire, with her whiskers sticking up in the air, and then felt their faces with their little fat hands. They did not find the least scrap of a whisker anywhere on their round cheeks; and Pet said—"But I a ittle girl; I not... more...

I THE TUMBLERS It was late of a beautiful afternoon in May. In the hedges outside the village roses were blossoming, yellow and white. Overhead the larks were singing their happiest songs, because the sky was so blue. But nearer the village the birds were silent, marveling at the strange noises which echoed up and down the narrow, crooked streets. "Tom-tom; tom-tom; tom-tom"; the hollow thud of a little drum sounded from the market-place. Boys... more...

Adrift on the Ocean. On a certain morning, not very long ago, the sun, according to his ancient and admirable custom, rose at a very early hour, and casting his bright beams far and wide over the Pacific, lighted up the yellow sands and the verdant hills of one of the loveliest of the islands of that mighty sea. It was early morning, as we have said, and there was plenty of life—animal as well as vegetable—to be seen on land and... more...

On Board the “Osprey”—Off the Coast of Africa. A dense mist hung over the ocean; the sky above our heads was of a grey tint; the water below our feet of the colour of lead. Not a ripple disturbed its mirror-like surface, except when now and then a covey of flying fish leaped forth to escape from their pursuers, or it was clove by the fin of a marauding shark. We knew that we were not far off the coast of Africa, some few... more...

"Do you know, Nell," said Stas Tarkowski to his friend, a littleEnglish girl, "that yesterday the police came and arrested the wife ofSmain, the overseer, and her three children,—that Fatma who severaltimes called at the office to see your father and mine." And little Nell, resembling a beautiful picture, raised her greenish eyes to Stas and asked with mingled surprise and fright: "Did they take her to prison?" "No, but they will not let... more...

CHAPTER I. "Oh Truth,Thou art, whilst tenant in a noble breast,A crown of crystal in an iv'ry chest." Elsie felt in better spirits in the morning; her sleep had refreshed her, and she arose with a stronger confidence in the love of both her earthly and her heavenly Father. She found her papa ready, and waiting for her. He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. "My precious little daughter," he said, "papa is very glad to see you looking... more...

CHAPTER I. THE CALL OF SPRING "Well, after all, the country isn't such a bad place as some city folk think." The young fellow who said this stood upon the highest point of the Ridge Road, where the land sloped abruptly to the valley in which lay the small municipality of Crawberry on the one hand, while on the other open fields and patches of woodland, in a huge green-and-brown checkerboard pattern, fell more easily to the bank of the distant... more...

CHAPTER I. FOUR YEARS OLD.   In all England there is not a prettier village than Wavertree. It has no streets; but the cottages stand about the roads in twos and threes, with their red-tiled roofs, and their little gardens, and hedges overrun with flowering weeds. Under a great sycamore tree at the foot of a hill stands the forge, a cave of fire glowing in the shadows, a favourite place for the children to linger on their way to school,... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE BIG WOODS TRAIL Hippy Wingate stepped from the train that had just pulled into the little Red River Valley station and turned to observe Tom Gray and the others of the Overland Riders detrain. In one hand Hippy carried a suitcase, in the other a disconsolate-looking bull pup done up in a shawl strap. "Be you Gray?" Hippy turned to look at the owner of the voice, not certain that the question had been addressed to him. He... more...

Or, Solitude in the Wilderness. The Outskirter. To some minds solitude is depressing, to others it is congenial. It was the former to our friend John Robinson; yet he had a large share of it in his chequered life. John—more familiarly known as Jack—was as romantic as his name was the reverse. To look at him you would have supposed that he was the most ordinary of common-place men, but if you had known him, as we did, you would have... more...