Showing: 1201-1210 results of 1453

by: Various
MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's Own Type Writer.) No. XIX.—THE SERVANT OF SOCIETY. The Servant of Society is one who, having in early life abdicated every claim to independent thought or action, is content to attach himself to the skirts and coat-tails of the great, and to exist for a long time as a mere appendage in mansions selected by the unerring instinct of a professional tuft-hunter. It is... more...

by: Various
A WAIL FROM THE TUB. A REMINISCENCE OF SUNDAY, THE 14TH OF JUNE. SCENE.—Hyde Park. Demonstration in progress, with the not unreasonable object of inducing Parliament to extend the Factory Acts to small and insanitary laundries. A lengthy procession, composed of sympathetic Railway Workers, Cabmen, Journeymen Tailors, Gas Stokers, House-Decorators, Carpenters, &c., &c., alt with resplendent... more...

by: Various
CONCLUDING PAPER. Early on a brilliant morning, with baggage repacked, and the lessening amount of provisions more firmly strapped on the shoulders of the Indians, the explorers left their pleasant site on the banks of the Maniri. The repose allowed to the bulk of the party during the absence of their Bolivian companions had been wholesome and refreshing. The success of the bark-hunters in their search... more...

by: Various
CHAPTER I. It was a large house, standing well back from the broad highway that leads from Brenton to Pelham, so far back, indeed, and at the end of such a long shady drive, that it could not be seen for some few minutes after turning in from the road. The approach was pretty, the avenue winding through the trees, with an occasional glimpse of the meadows beyond. The road forked where the trees ended,... more...

by: Various
GRANDMOTHER'S CHAIR. Grandmother sits in her easy chairSoftly humming some old-time air;And as she sings, her needles keep paceWith the smiles that flit o'er her wrinkled face;While the fire-light flickers, and fades away,And comes again like the breaking day. From morning till evening she knits and sings,While ever the pendulum tireless swingsThe moments around, with its tick and stroke,Nor... more...

by: Various
PRIMITIVE LAW AND THE NEGRO The psychology of large bodies of men is a surprisingly difficult topic and it is often true that we are inclined to seek the explanation of phenomena in too recent a period of human development. The truth seems to be that ideas prevail longer than customs, habits of dress or the ordinary economic processes of the community, and the ideas are the controlling factors. The... more...

by: Various
The Menorah By Theodor HerzlTranslated from the German by Bessie London PouzznerDEEP in his soul he began to feel the need of being a Jew. His circumstances were not unsatisfactory; he enjoyed an ample income and a profession that permitted him to do whatever his heart desired. For he was an artist. His Jewish origin and the faith of his fathers had long since ceased to trouble him, when suddenly the... more...

by: Various
"WE ARE ALL LOW PEOPLE THERE." A TALE OF THE ASSIZES. IN TWO CHAPTERS. CHAPTER THE FIRST. Some time ago, business of an important character carried me to the beautiful and populous city of ——. I remember to have visited it when I was a child, in the company of a doating mother, who breathed her last there; and the place, associated with that circumstance, had ever afterwards been the... more...

by: Various
I GENERAL SURVEY F.S. MARVIN We are trying in this book to give some impression of the principal changes and developments of Western thought in what might roughly be called 'the last generation', though this limit of time has been, as it must be, treated liberally. From the political point of view the two most impressive milestones, events which will always mark for the consciousness of the... more...

by: Various
AN HISTORICAL ROCKY-MOUNTAIN OUTPOST. GOING TO THE JUDGE'S. The day might have graced the month of June, so balmy was the air, so warmly shone the sun from a cloudless sky. But the snow-covered mountain-range whose base we were skirting, the leafless cottonwoods fringing the Fontaine qui Bouille and the sombre plains that stretched away to the eastern horizon told a different story. It was on one... more...