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Pleasant Receptions. “Ax.” “I was asking, or axing, as you call it, my man. I said, Is that Dumford, down there in the valley?” “And I said axe, or arks, as you call it, my man,” was the surly, defiant reply. The last speaker looked up savagely from the block of stone on which he was seated, and the questioner looked down from where he stood on the rough track. There was a quiet,... more...

INTRODUCTION When Richard Steele, in number 555 of his 'Spectator', signed its last paper and named those who had most helped him 'to keep up the spirit of so long and approved a performance,' he gave chief honour to one who had on his page, as in his heart, no name but Friend. This was 'the gentleman of whose assistance I formerly boasted in the Preface and concluding Leaf of... more...

CHAPTER I Penny Nichols, hair flying in the wind, came running up the steps of the Altman porch. She did not need to ring the bell, for just at that moment Susan, her dark-haired chum, appeared in the open doorway. "Why, hello, Penny," greeted the Altman girl. "You're all out of breath." "I ran most of the way from home," replied Penny. "I was hoping you'd drop in... more...

CHAPTER I THE DRY DOCK "She's movin'!" cried a voice from the crowd on the wharf side. "Watch 'er! Watch 'er!" A dull English cheer rippled over the waterfront. "Blarst if I see why she moves!" marveled an onlooker. "That tug looks like a water bug 'itched to a 'ouse-boat—it's hunreasonable!" "Aye, but they're tur'ble... more...

We did not oversleep at St. Nicholas. The church-bell began to ring at four-thirty in the morning, and from the length of time it continued to ring I judged that it takes the Swiss sinner a good while to get the invitation through his head. Most church-bells in the world are of poor quality, and have a harsh and rasping sound which upsets the temper and produces much sin, but the St. Nicholas bell is a... more...

AN INSTANCE OF THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF "PURE SCIENCE" The practical value of the service of the geological profession is, with every year, being more and more appreciated, especially among people who are developing the mineral resources of our country. Nevertheless, we still hear men who speak of geologists as theorists that render our profitable industries but little assistance. It is true that... more...

"Is all our company here?" —Midsummer Night's Dream. Yes, he was a strolling player pure and simple. He was an actor by profession, and jack of all trades through necessity. He could play any part from Macbeth to the hind leg of an elephant, equally well or bad, as the case might be. What he did not know about a theatre was not worth knowing; what he could not do about a playhouse was... more...

CHAPTER I WHICH IS A PROLOGUE The woman lying huddled on the couch turned her face to the wall and covered it with her hands in a burst of uncontrollable horror. "Oh, that dreadful light!" she moaned. "If it would only go out! It will send me mad. Oh, if it would only go out—only go out!" Her companion made no immediate answer. She stood by the wall, her shoulders slightly hunched,... more...

CHAPTER XVIII. Let a king and a beggar converse freely together, and it is the beggar's fault if he does not say something which makes the king lift his hat to him. The scene shifts back to Gatesboro', the forenoon of the day succeeding the memorable exhibition at the Institute of that learned town. Mr. Hartopp was in the little parlour behind his country-house, his hours of business much... more...

The Curate Grows Suspicious; and Takes his Stick. “Do what, miss?” said Dally Watlock. “That! There, you did it again.” “La, miss; I on’y thought my face might be a bit smudgy, and I wiped it.” “Don’t tell me a falsehood, Dally. I know what it means. You felt guilty, and your face burned.” “La, miss; I don’t know what you mean.” “Then I’ll tell you, Dally. You are growing... more...