The New Boys. Slegge said it was all “bosh;” for fifty years ago a boy at school had not learned to declare that everything which did not suit his taste was “rot.” So Slegge stood leaning up against the playground wall with a supercilious sneer upon his lip, and said it was all “bosh,” and only fit for children. The other fellows, he said, might make idiots of themselves if they liked, he... more...

A Boy at Sea. Many many years ago seem like yesterday, and I hope it will always be the same. For, just to be serious for a moment, what is the full stretch of the oldest man’s life to time? Just one star-wink, if the astronomers are right about the passage of light, and that the glitter of stars that we see now are only the rays which started from them away there in space long before we were born.... more...

Captain Revel is Cross. “Late again, Nic,” said Captain Revel. “Very sorry, father.” “Yes, you always are ‘very sorry,’ sir. I never saw such a fellow to sleep. Why, when I was a lad of your age—let’s see, you’re just eighteen.” “Yes, father, and very hungry,” said the young man, with a laugh and a glance at the breakfast-table. “Always are very hungry. Why, when I was a lad... more...

Chapter One. “Yes, James; this is my last dying speech and confession.” “Oh, papa!” with a burst of sobbing. “Be quiet, Kitty, and don’t make me so miserable. Dying is only going to sleep when a man’s tired out, as I am, with the worries of the world, money-making, fighting for one’s own, and disappointment. I know as well as old Jermingham that it’s pretty... more...

Three White Ones. Tick, tap, tap—tap, ticker—ticker—tapper—tapper; tick—teck, tacker—tap went a typewriting machine, and scratch—scratch went two pens, in one of the minor offices connected with that vast wealth-producing industry known as the De Beers Diamond-Mines, where, seated at desk and table, three young men were hard at work, one manipulating the typewriter, one writing a letter,... more...

Introduces Will and his Henchman, Josh. “You don’t know it, Master Will, lad, but Natur’ couldn’t ha’ done no better for you if she’d tried.” “Why, Josh?” “Why, lad? There’s a queshton to ask! Why? Warn’t you born in Co’rn’all, the finest country in all England, and ain’t you going to grow into a Cornishman, as all old books says is giants, when you’ve left off being a... more...

How they decided to run the Risk. “Well, Joses,” said Dr Lascelles, “if you feel afraid, you had better go back to the city.” There was a dead silence here, and the little party grouped about between a small umbrella-shaped tent and the dying embers of the fire, at which a meal of savoury antelope steaks had lately been cooked, carefully avoided glancing one at the other. Just inside the... more...

Chapter One. On the March. Trrt—trrt—trrt. Just that little sound, as the sticks flirted with the drumheads to keep the men in step; for Her Majesty’s 404th Fusiliers were marching “easy.” So it was called; and it meant with the men smoking, and carrying their rifles as they pleased—shouldered, at the trail, slung muzzle up or muzzle down. But, all the same, it was a miserable fiction to... more...

Bass for Breakfast. “Have some more bass, Gwyn?” “Please, father.” “You should not speak with your mouth full, my dear,” said Mrs Pendarve, quietly. “No, mother; but I didn’t like to keep father waiting.” “And between the two stools you came to the ground, eh?” said Colonel Pendarve, smiling. “Never mind; hold your plate. Lucky for us, my dear, that we have only one boy. This... more...

“Two bad Boys”—Sergeant Ripsy. “Oh, bother!” The utterer of these two impatient words threw down a sheet of notepaper from which he had been reading, carefully smoothed out the folds to make it flat, and then, balancing it upon one finger as he sat back in a cane chair with his heels upon the table, gave the paper a flip with his nail and sent it skimming out of the window of his military... more...