Periodicals Books

WAYS AND MEANS. I met her at the usual place, and she looked much the same as usual—which astonished me rather. "Now that we're engaged," I began. "Oh, but we aren't," said Phyllis. "Are you by any chance a false woman?" I asked. "You remember what you said last night?" "I do, and what I said I stick to. But that was pleasure, and this is business." I... more...

MOCHA. “Bon pour la digestion,” said the young Princess Esterhazy, when sent to bed by her governess without her dinner; we say the same of coffee; and hope the reader will think the same of Mocha, or the place whence the finest quality is exported. Mocha, the coffee-drinker need not be told, is a place of some importance on the borders of the Red Sea, in that part of Arabia termed “Felix,” or... more...

The Manor of Stoke, with its magnificent mansion and picturesque park, is situate near the village of Stoke Pogeys, in the county of Buckingham, four miles north-west of Windsor. About two miles distant from Stoke lies the village of Slough, rendered famous by the residence of the celebrated astronomer, Sir William Herschel, and a short way further, on a gentle slope continued the whole way from Stoke,... more...

WITH THE AUXILIARY PATROL. An Honourable Record. Many years ago, in the reign of good Queen Victoria, a little ship sailed out of Grimsby Docks in all the proud bravery of new paint and snow-white decks, and passed the Newsand bound for the Dogger Bank. They had christened her the King George, and, though her feminine susceptibilities were perhaps a trifle piqued at this affront to her sex, it was a... more...

NOTES. FOLK LORE. The First Mole in Cornwall; a Morality from the Stowe of Morwenna, in the Rocky Land.—A lonely life for the dark and silent mole! She glides along her narrow vaults, unconscious of the glad and glorious scenes of earth, and air, and sea! She was born, as it were, in a grave, and in one long living sepulchre she dwells and dies! Is not existence to her a kind of doom? Wherefore is... more...

NIGHTMARES. II. OF A T.B.D. CAPTAIN, WHO DREAMS THAT HE HAS FOUND HIS LOG BOOK MADE UP BY MR. PH*L*P G*BBS. Time:—7.30 A.M.—Once more we set out on our never-ending mission, our ceaseless vigil of the seas. The ruddy weather-stained coxswain swung the wheel this way and that—his eyes were of the blue that only the sea can give—in obedience to, or rather in accord with, the curt, mystic,... more...

SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH. 3 p.m.—Arrive at Starmouth—the retired Watering-place at which I propose to write the Nautical Drama that is to render me famous and wealthy. Leave luggage at Station, and go in search of lodgings. Hotel out of the question—table d'hôte quite fatal to inspiration. On the Esplanade, noting likely places with critical eye. Perhaps I am a little fastidious. What I... more...

THE ALMS-HOUSE. For the purpose of preventing an inconvenient rush of literary tuft-hunters and sight-seers thither next summer, a fictitious name must be bestowed upon the town of the Ritualistic church. Let it stand in these pages as Bumsteadville. Possibly it was not known to the Romans, the Saxons, nor the Normans by that name, if by any name at all; but a name more or less weird and full of damp... more...

A QUEER CHRISTMAS PARTY. I remember coming home and dressing to go out again. Of this so far I am sure. I remember too taking a cab; also the cab taking me. But oddly enough though I dined that evening with a very old friend, somehow I cannot for the life of me, at this moment, call to mind his name or remember where he lives. However, the evening was so remarkable that I at once sat down next day to... more...

The LORGNETTE, the cleverest book of its kind (we were about to write, since the days of Addison, but to avoid possible disagreement say)—since IRVING and PAULDING gave us Salmagundi, is still coming before us at agreeable intervals, and will soon be issued in a brace of volumes illustrated by DARLEY. The Author keeps his promises, given in the following paragraphs some time ago: "It would be... more...