Robert Neilson Stephens

CHAPTER I.THE FIRST PERFORMANCE OF "HAMLET.""Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"— Quoted in "As You Like It," from Marlowe's "Hero and Leander." At three o'clock in the afternoon of the cold first Monday in March, 1601, a red flag rose, and a trumpet sounded thrice, from a little gabled turret protruding up out of a large wooden building in a... more...

CHAPTER I. TWO ENCOUNTERS BY NIGHT Hitherto I have written with the sword, after the fashion of greater men, and requiring no secretary. I now take up the quill to set forth, correctly, certain incidents which, having been noised about, stand in danger of being inaccurately reported by some imitator of Brantome and De l'Estoile. If all the world is to know of this matter, let it know thereof... more...

CHAPTER I. Philip's Arrival in New York. 'Tis not the practice of writers to choose for biography men who have made no more noise in the world than Captain Winwood has; nor the act of gentlemen, in ordinary cases, to publish such private matters as this recital will present. But I consider, on the one hand, that Winwood's history contains as much of interest, and as good an example of... more...

A MEMORY One crisp evening early in March, 1887, I climbed the three flights of rickety stairs to the fourth floor of the old "Press" building to begin work on the "news desk." Important as the telegraph department was in making the newspaper, the desk was a crude piece of carpentry. My companions of the blue pencil irreverently termed it "the shelf." This was my second night in... more...

THE RIDERS. I dare say ’tis a wild, foolish, dangerous thing; but I do it, nevertheless! As for my reasons, they are the strongest. First, I wish to do it. Second, you’ve all opposed my doing it. So there’s an end of the matter!” It was, of course, a woman that spoke,—moreover, a young one. And she added: “Drat the wind! Can’t we ride faster? ’Twill be dark before we reach the... more...

CHAPTER I. MR. LARCHER GOES OUT IN THE RAIN The night set in with heavy and unceasing rain, and, though the month was August, winter itself could not have made the streets less inviting than they looked to Thomas Larcher. Having dined at the caterer's in the basement, and got the damp of the afternoon removed from his clothes and dried out of his skin, he stood at his window and gazed down at the... more...