WITH THE BIRDS. Not in the spirit of exact science, but rather with the freedom of love and old acquaintance, would I celebrate some of the minstrels of the field and forest,—these accredited and authenticated poets of Nature. All day, while the rain has pattered and murmured, have I heard the notes of the Robin and the Wood-Thrush; the Red-Eyed Flycatcher has pursued his game within a few feet of my... more...

ATHERSTONE, WILLIAM GUYBON (1813-1898), British geologist, one of the pioneers in South African geology, was born in 1813, in the district of Uitenhage, Cape Colony. Having qualified as M.D. he settled in early life as a medical practitioner at Grahamstown, subsequently becoming F.R.C.S. In 1839 his interest was aroused in geology, and from that date he “devoted the leisure of a long and successful... more...

A COUP FOR "THE DAILY TRAIL." We all knew at the office that Micklebrown had gone to Cocklesea for his holiday. If anyone had offered him a free pass to the Italian lakes or any other delectable spot Micklebrown would have declined it and taken his third return to Cocklesea. Like Sir Walter Raleigh when he started for South America to find a gold-mine, Micklebrown had an object in view. He... more...

THE SUGAR FIEND. "I will have a cup of tea," I said to the waitress, "China if possible; and please don't forget the sugar." "Yes, and what will you eat with I it?" she asked. "What you please," I replied; "it is all horrible." I do not take kindly to war-time teas. My idea of a tea is several cups of the best China, with three large lumps of sugar in each,... more...

MARLBOROUGH. No. I. Alexander the Great said, when he approached the tomb of Achilles, "Oh! fortunate youth, who had a Homer to be the herald of your fame!" "And well did he say so," says the Roman historian: "for, unless the Iliad had been written, the same earth which covered his body would have buried his name." Never was the truth of these words more clearly evinced than in... more...

HIS FUTURE. Part I.—The Proposal, 1920. "About this boy of ours, my dear," said Gerald. "Well, what about it?" said Margaret. "He weighed fourteen pounds and an eighth this morning, and he's only four months and ten days old, you know." "Is he? I mean, does he? Splendid. But what I was going to say was this: in view of the present social and economic disturbances and... more...

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. That was a pleasant life on picquet, in the delicious early summer of the South, and among the endless flowery forests of that blossoming isle. In the retrospect, I seem to see myself adrift upon a horse's back amid a sea of roses. The various outposts were within a five-mile radius, and it was one long, delightful gallop, day and night. I have a faint impression that the... more...

His real name is Wallace, but his mates always called him "Wally," and although he is now a big broad-shouldered young mariner, he is still pointed out as the "wreck-boy." One summer not long ago Wally sailed with me for a week out upon the blue waters across the bar after blue-fish, or among the winding tide-water creeks for sheep's-head, and it was then, by means of many... more...

You're to blame if your mind is wasting time. It does the work you select. Fill your head with trifles and there'll be no space for big things. Hack ideas occupy as much room as thoroughbred inspirations. Unimportant details frequently require as much attention as constructive plans. Proportion is the sixth sense and without it the other five are practically useless. Apply your days... more...

HAPPIEST DAYS. Long ago, when you were a little boy or a little girl,—perhaps not so very long ago, either,—were you never interrupted in your play by being called in to have your face washed, your hair combed, and your soiled apron exchanged for a clean one, preparatory to an introduction to Mrs. Smith, or Dr. Jones, or Aunt Judkins, your mother's early friend? And after being ushered in to... more...