Periodicals Books

Showing: 361-370 results of 1453

by: Various
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...

by: Various
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...

by: Various
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...

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...

by: Various
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...

MOTHER EARTH HERE was a time when men imagined the Earth as the center of the universe. The stars, large and small, they believed were created merely for their delectation. It was their vain conception that a supreme being, weary of solitude, had manufactured a giant toy and put them into possession of it. When, however, the human mind was illumined by the torch-light of science, it came to understand... more...

by: Various
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...

by: Various
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...

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...

by: Various
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...