Robert Taylor Conrad

The Manor of Stoke, with its magnificent mansion and picturesque park, is situate near the village of Stoke Pogeys, in the county of Buckingham, four miles north-west of Windsor. About two miles distant from Stoke lies the village of Slough, rendered famous by the residence of the celebrated astronomer, Sir William Herschel, and a short way further, on a gentle slope continued the whole way from Stoke,... more...

Time and opportunity make men—and high talent in any profession or sphere of life is valueless unless called into action. This is strikingly exemplified in the career of the person with whom we now have to do. Samuel Walker was born in the county of Prince George, Maryland, in the year 1815. His family, though respectable, had neither fortune nor influence sufficient to advance his interests; and at... more...

"Don't be angry, ma'ma—I wont jest any more, if it displease you, but I will make a plain confession." "Well," said Mrs. Clifford, "let me hear it." "I have not one feeling which I wish to conceal from you. There have been moments when I liked Mr. Franklin," and a pretty color crossed her cheek, "but I have been struck with a peculiarity which has chilled... more...

This remarkable woman was not only one of the first writers of her country, but she deserves to be ranked with the most celebrated persons of her sex who have lived in any nation or age. Within the last century woman has done more than ever before in investigation, reflection and literary art. On the continent of Europe an Agnesi, a Dacier and a Chastelet have commanded respect by their learning, and a... more...

"They say Miss Morton is engaged to Robert Hazlewood," said Augusta Lenox. "So I hear," replied Angila Mervale, to whom this piece of news had been communicated. "How can she?" "How can she, indeed?" replied Augusta. "He's an ugly fellow." "Ugly! yes," continued Angila, "and a disagreeable ugliness, too. I don't care about a man's being... more...

CHAPTER I. I am no visionary—no dreamer; and yet my life has been a ceaseless struggle between the realities of everyday care, and a myriad of shadowy phantoms which ever haunt me. In the crowded and thronged city; in the green walks and sunny forests of my native hills; on the broad and boundless prairie, carpeted with velvet flowers; on the blue and dreamy sea—it is the same. I look around, and... more...

It was a glad day in Venice. The eve of the feast of the Purification had arrived, and all those maidens of the Republic, whose names had been written in the "Book of Gold," were assembled with their parents, their friends and lovers—a beautiful and joyous crowd—repairing, in the gondolas provided by the Republic, to the church of San Pietro de Castella, at Olivolo, which was the residence... more...

Thou, sitting on the hill-top bare,Dost see the far hills disappearIn Autumn smoke, and all the airFilled with bright leaves. Below thee spreadAre yellow harvests, rich in breadFor winter use; while over-headThe jays to one another call,And through the stilly woods there fall,Ripe nuts at intervals, where'erThe squirrel, perched in upper air,From tree-top barks at thee his fear;His cunning eyes,... more...

Jacob Jones was clerk in a commission store at a salary of five hundred dollars a year. He was just twenty-two, and had been receiving this salary for two years. Jacob had no one to care for but himself; but, somehow or other, it happened that he did not lay up any money, but, instead, usually had from fifty to one hundred dollars standing against him on the books of his tailors. "How much money... more...

CHAPTER I. Archibald Dundass was a rich Jamaica planter, whose estates were situated in one of the most delightful regions in that garden of the West India isles. His wife, an English lady, of great personal attractions and highly connected, died when Helen, their only child, had just entered her thirteenth year, an age when, perhaps, a mother's counsel and tender guidance is most required. When... more...