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"I wish you a happy New Year, sir." It was the servant, green of livery, the yellow waistcoat slashed with black, bearing the coffee and fruit. "Put it there, please," Roland answered. And then, in recognition of the salutation, he added, "Thanks: the same to you." "H'm," he mused, as the man withdrew, "I ought to have tipped him, I suppose." He leaned from... more...

CHAPTER I THE EARLY LITERATURE One Sunday morning, about the year 1661, a group of Indians was gathered around a noble-looking man, listening to a story he was reading. It was summer and the day was beautiful, and the little Indian children who sat listening were so interested that not even the thought of their favorite haunts by brookside or meadow could tempt them from the spot. The story was about... more...

PART FIRST. THE BONFIRE OF ST. JOHN. Early in the century, on a summer evening, Jean Lozier stood on the bluff looking at Kaskaskia. He loved it with the homesick longing of one who is born for towns and condemned to the fields. Moses looking into the promised land had such visions and ideals as this old lad cherished. Jean was old in feeling, though not yet out of his teens. The training-masters of... more...

Friend, for the sake of loves we hold in common,The love of books, of paintings, rhyme and fiction;And for the sake of that divine affliction,The love of art, passing the love of woman;—By which all life's made nobler, superhuman,Lifting the soul above, and, without frictionOf Time, that puts failure in his prediction,—Works to some end through hearts that dreams illumine:To you I pour this Cup... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SETTING FORTH. A voyage across the Atlantic Ocean in the year 1799 was not the every-day affair that it has come to be at the present time. There were no "ocean greyhounds" then. The passage was a long and trying one in the clumsy craft of those days, and people looked upon it as a more serious affair than they now do on a tour round the world. In the year 1799 few people thought... more...

hen did the headaches first start?" asked the neurologist, Dr. Hall. "About six months ago," Bennett replied. "What is your occupation, Mr. Bennett?" "I am a contractor." "Are you happy in your work?" "Very. I prefer it to any other occupation I know of." "When your headaches become sufficiently severe, you say that you have hallucinations," Hall... more...

CHAPTER I "I call this part of the line beastly depressing." The speaker tossed his cigarette-end away as he spoke. It fell on the railway line, and the tiny smoke from it curled up for a moment against the heavy background of spruce as the train receded. "All the same, this is going to be one of the most exciting parts of Canada before long," said Lady Merton, looking up from her... more...

THE BLACK WOMAN. The horseman reined in as his jaded steed scrambled up the shelving bank, and for a space sat there motionless, for which the horse gave mute thanks. The moon was struggling to heave through fleecy clouds, as it was hard on midnight; in the half obscurity the rider gazed around suspiciously. There was nothing in sight to cause any man fear. Behind him rippled the Dee, and all around... more...

FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. The author of Fanny, Burns, Marco Bozzaris, etc., was born at Guilford in Connecticut, in August, 1795, and in his eighteenth year removed to the city of New-York. He evinced a taste for poetry and wrote verses at a very early period; but the oldest of his effusions I have seen are those under the signatures of "Croaker," and "Croaker & Co.," published in the... more...