Classics Books

On The Trail of Deserters. The year of 1871 had been so full of incidents and far reaching results for the Fourth Cavalry and its new Colonel, Ranald S. Mackenzie, that it is somewhat difficult to go back into the dim vistas of that period and select the one incident, or absorbing event which would be either of greatest magnitude or afford the most thrilling interest— This capture of ten deserters,... more...

I What is Turkey? It is a name which explains nothing, for no formula can embrace the variety of the countries marked "Ottoman" on the map: the High Yemen, with its monsoons and tropical cultivation; the tilted rim of the Hedjaz, one desert in a desert zone that stretches from the Sahara to Mongolia; the Mesopotamian rivers, breaking the desert with a strip of green; the pine-covered mountain... more...

THE SEE OF DROMORE. The see of Dromore, though founded by St. Colman, seems for several centuries to have comprised little more than the abbey of that great saint and its immediate territory. In the synod of Rathbreasil (a. d. 1118), in which the boundaries of the various dioceses were defined, no mention is made of Dromore, and the territory subsequently belonging to it was all comprised within the... more...

STORY I THE KINKYTAILS GO TO SCHOOL Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, there were two little monkey boys who lived with their papa and mamma off in the woods in a funny house at the top of a tall tree. These little monkeys were the cutest and most cunning chaps you would want to see, even if you went in an airship to the circus. I have already told you something about one of them—a red... more...

CHAPTER I THE KIRKWOODS BREAK CAMP "Stuff's all packed, Phil, and on the wagon. Camera safe on top and your suit-case tied to the tail-gate. Shall we march?" "Not crazy about it, daddy. Why not linger another week? We can unlimber in a jiffy." "It's a tempting proposition, old lady, but I haven't the nerve." Kirkwood dropped an armful of brush on the smouldering... more...

THE NEW HOME "Is that the house!" Milly Ridge exclaimed disapprovingly. Her father, a little man, with one knee bent against the unyielding, newly varnished front door, glanced up apprehensively at the figures painted on the glass transom above. In that block of little houses, all exactly alike, he might easily have made a mistake. Reassured he murmured over his... more...

CHAPTER I The restaurant of the Grand Hotel in Rome was filling up. People were dining rather late—it was the end of May and the entertainments were lessening, so they could dawdle over their repasts and smoke their cigarettes in peace. Stella Rawson came in with her uncle and aunt, Canon and the Honorable Mrs. Ebley, and they took their seats in a secluded corner. They looked a little out of... more...

Harriet Beecher Stowe. In a plain home, in the town of Litchfield, Conn., was born, June 14, 1811, Harriet Beecher Stowe. The house was well-nigh full of little ones before her coming. She was the seventh child, while the oldest was but eleven years old. Her father, Rev. Lyman Beecher, a man of remarkable mind and sunshiny heart, was preaching earnest sermons in his own and in all the neighboring... more...

A CHARM Take of English earth as muchAs either hand may rightly clutch.In the taking of it breathePrayer for all who lie beneath—Not the great nor well bespoke,But the mere uncounted folkOf whose life and death is noneReport or lamentation.Lay that earth upon thy heart,And thy sickness shall depart!It shall sweeten and make wholeFevered breath and festered soul;It shall mightily restrainOver-busy... more...

CHAPTER I "The Sea Queen" Pember Street, E., is never very cheerful in appearance, not even in mid-spring, when the dingy lilacs in the forecourts of those grimy houses bourgeon and blossom. The shrubs assimilate soon the general air of depression common to the neighbourhood. The smoke catches and turns them; they wilt or wither; and the bunches of flowers are sicklied over with the smuts and... more...