CHAPTER I. CHRONICLES IN COLOR. "Speaking of diaries," said Gladys Evans, "what do you think of this for one?" She spread out a bead band, about an inch and a half wide and a yard or more long, in which she had worked out in colors the main events of her summer's camping trip with the Winnebago Camp Fire Girls. The girls dropped their hand work and crowded around Gladys to get a better look at the band, which told so cleverly the story of their... more...

CHAPTER I. Elizabeth Adair was stooping to prop a rose-tree in a viranda, when she hastily turned to her sister, and exclaimed, “it is useless attending either to plants or flowers now: I must give up all my favourite pursuits.” “But you will have others to engage your attention,” returned Jane. “And will they afford me pleasure? You may as well say that I shall listen with joy to the foolish commands of some... more...

Chapter One. My infancy and education—How I was sold and who bought me. “Then you can guarantee it to be a good one to go?” “You couldn’t have a better, sir.” “And it will stand a little roughish wear, you think?” “I’m sure of it, sir; it’s an uncommon strong watch.” “Then I’ll take it.” These few sentences determined my destiny, and from that moment... more...

CHAPTER I. Brother and Sister. 'I say, we've got a new boy at Torrington's. Haven't had one for ages and ages, so it's made quite a stir among us.' 'You can make stir enough when you are coming out of school,' said his sister, lifting her eyes from her lessons and looking across the table. 'Who is the new boy?' she asked. 'Nobody knows—that's the fun,' said Leonard, with a short whistle. 'Don't you even know his name?' 'That's just... more...

THE HATEFUL NAME "She leaned far out on the window-sill,And shook it forth with a royal will. 'Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,But spare your country's flag,' she said." The black eyes of the little speaker burned with fiery indignation as she hurled these words of defiance at a ten-quart pail of blackberries standing in the middle of the dusty road where she had set it when the emotion of her recital had overcome her to such a degree... more...

"Let us now praise famous men"—Men of little showing—For their work continueth,And their work continueth,Greater than their knowing.Western wind and open surgeTore us from our mothers;Flung us on a naked shore(Twelve bleak houses by the shore!Seven summers by the shore!)'Mid two hundred brothers.There we met with famous menSet in office o'er us.And they beat on us with rods—Faithfully with many rods—Daily beat us on with... more...

Walter’s Home. The merry homes of England!Around their hearths by night,What gladsome looks of household love,Meet in the ruddy light! Mrs Hemans. “Good-bye, Walter; good-bye, Walter dear! good-bye!” and the last note of this chorus was “Dood-bye,” from a blue-eyed, fair-haired girl of two years, as Walter disengaged his arms from his mother’s neck, and sprang into the carriage which had already been... more...

Fate in a Bathtub THERE comes a moment when without warning boy and puppy instantaneously pass into the consciousness of manhood. With the young canine it comes with the first deep-throated defiance of the intruder, the instinct that the wriggling, fawning days are over and that the moment to attack and accept attack has arrived. With the human puppy the change is more elusive. To some it comes with the first clinging splendor of long trousers,... more...

MISS MINCHIN'SSELECT SEMINARY FOR YOUNG LADIES Little Sara Crewe never went in or out of the house without reading that door-plate and reflecting upon it. By the time she was twelve, she had decided that all her trouble arose because, in the first place, she was not "Select," and in the second she was not a "Young Lady." When she was eight years old, she had been brought to Miss Minchin as a pupil, and left with her. Her papa had brought her all... 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...