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Showing: 21-30 results of 1892

Treats of the Engine-Driver’s House and Household. Talk of earthquakes! not all the earthquakes that have rumbled in Ecuador or toppled over the spires and dwellings of Peru could compare, in the matter of dogged pertinacity, with that earthquake which diurnally and hourly shocked little Gertie’s dwelling, quivered the white dimity curtains of little Gertie’s bed and shook little Gertie’s frame. A graceful, rounded little... more...

THE FLOATING ACADEMY "Well, if this is a life on the ocean wave or anything like it, I am satisfied to remain on shore." "I knew that the Hudson river could cut up pretty lively at times, but the frolics of the Hudson are not a patch on this." "They said we would not be seasick, but if I am not I don't know what you call it. I don't want it any worse, at any rate." "They said it wouldn't hurt any if you were sick, but I wonder if they ever... more...

Chapter I The Dimplesmithy Grown people have such an exasperating way of saying, "Now, when I was a little girl—" Then, just as you prick up the little white ears of your mind for a story, they finish, loftily, "I did—or didn't do—so-and-so." It is certainly an underhand way of suggesting that you stop doing something pleasant, or begin doing something unpleasant; and you would not have thought that Sara's dear mother would... more...

CHAPTER I A FENCE WITH A HISTORY "The best day so far this spring, fellows!" "It feels mighty much like baseball weather, for a fact, Otto!" "True for you, K. K., though there's still just a little tang to this April air." "What of that, Eli? The big leagues have opened shop all over the land, and the city papers are already full of baseball scores, and diamond lore. We ought to be getting busy ourselves in little old Scranton." "Allandale... more...

I do not know where Ballymulligan is, and never knew anybody who did. Once I asked the Mulligan the question, when that chieftain assumed a look of dignity so ferocious, and spoke of "Saxon curiawsitee" in a tone of such evident displeasure, that, as after all it can matter very little to me whereabouts lies the Celtic principality in question, I have never pressed the inquiry any farther. I don't know even the Mulligan's town residence. One... more...


CHAPTER I AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR “Oh, what a glorious day!” cried Bessie King, the first of the members of the Manasquan Camp Fire Girls of America to emerge from the sleeping house of Camp Sunset, on Lake Dean, and to see the sun sparkling on the water of the lake. She was not long alone in her enjoyment of the scene, however. “Oh, it’s lovely!” said Dolly Ransom, as, rubbing her eyes sleepily, since it was only... more...

CHAPTER I BAD NEWS Excited shouts, mingled with laughter, floated on the sunlit and dust-laden air to the ranch house of Diamond X. Now and then, above the yells, could be heard the thudding of the feet of running horses on the dry ground. "What do you reckon those boys are doing, Ma?" asked Nell Merkel as she paused in the act of laying the top crust on a raisin pie. "Land knows," answered the girl's mother with half a sigh and half a... more...

Neil D’Arcy’s Life at Sea. My Ancestors—Larry Harrigan, and my Early Education—Choice of a Profession—First Start in Life. “The sea, the sea,” if not my mother, has been my nurse (and anything but a dry one) from the earliest days of my recollection. I was born within the sound of old ocean’s surges; I dabbled in salt water before I could run; and I have floated on salt water, and have been well... more...

THE WRECK AT APPLEGATE CROSSING A September morning has dawned, with only a vague tang of autumn in the air. In the green old dooryard at the Red Mill, under the spreading shade trees, two girls are shelling a great basket of dried lima beans for the winter's store. The smaller, black-haired girl begins the conversation. "Suppose Jane Ann doesn't come, Ruth?" "You mean on this morning train?" responded the plumper and more mature-looking... more...

CHAPTER I THE WIND STORM Across the now placidly flowing Lumano where it widened into almost the proportions of a lake just below the picturesque Red Mill, a bank of tempestuous clouds was shouldering into view above the sky line of the rugged and wooded hills. These slate-colored clouds, edged with pallid light, foredoomed the continuance of the peaceful summer afternoon. Not a breath of air stirred on the near side of the river. The huge old... more...