Periodicals Books

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.BY JNO. B. DUFFEY.( ) As, wandering forth at rosy dawn,When sparkling dew-drops deck the lawn,From glen and glade, and river-side,We bring young flowers—the morning's pride. And, bound in wreaths, or posies sweet,With flowers our favored ones we greet;For flowers a silent language own,That makes our maiden wishes known. A language that by love was wrought,And by fond love... more...

CHAPTER III. The thoughts of Ænone followed her into sleep, and colored her dreams with pleasant memories of the past; and when the morning sun, pouring its beams through the window, awakened her, there was a momentary struggle before she could throw off the fancies of the night and realize that she was no longer in her cottage home. But distinct perception soon returned as she glanced around her and... more...

MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's Own Type Writer.) No. XXIII.—THE TOLERATED HUSBAND. It is customary for the self-righteous moralists who puff themselves into a state of Jingo complacency over the failings of foreign nations, to declare with considerable unction that the domestic hearth, which every Frenchman habitually tramples upon, is maintained in unviolated purity in every British household.... more...

Recently, a party consisting of engineers and employes of the Missouri River Improvement Commission began an exploration of one of the mounds, a work of a prehistoric race, situated on the bluff, which overlooks the Missouri River from an elevation of one hundred and fifty feet, located about six miles below Jefferson City. This mound is one of about twenty embraced in a circle one quarter of a mile in... more...

THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. No. III. SCENE—On the Coach from Braine l'Alleud to Waterloo. The vehicle has a Belgian driver, but the conductor is a true-born Briton. Mr. CYRUS K. TROTTER and his daughter are behind with PODBURY. CULCHARD, who is not as yet sufficiently on speaking terms with his friend to ask for an introduction, is on the box-seat in front. Mr. Trotter. How are you getting along,... more...

ELLEN TERRY The first time that there was any talk of my going to America was, I think, in 1874, when I was playing in "The Wandering Heir." Dion Boucicault wanted me to go, and dazzled me with figures, but I expect the cautious Charles Reade influenced me against accepting the engagement. When I did go, in 1883, I was thirty-five and had an assured position in my profession. It was the first... more...

LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS. No. VII.—TO VANITY. DEAR VANITY, Imagine my feelings when I read the following letter. It lay quite innocently on my breakfast-table in a heap of others. It was stamped in the ordinary way, post-marked in the ordinary way, and addressed correctly, though how the charming writer discovered my address I cannot undertake to say; in fact, there was nothing in its outward... more...

ITALIAN WROUGHT IRON. The wrought iron of the middle ages, and of the time of the Renaissance, and even down to the last century, in Italy, France, and Germany showed, in the crudest examples, the principal virtues of all true decorative art. The reason is not far to seek. The difficulties in the way of working the material with ease imposed certain limitations in design and execution which could not... more...

APRIL 22, 1914. Says The Times:—"It used to be a tradition of British Liberal statesmanship to support, without prospect of immediate advantage, the cause of nationality and freedom abroad.... It would at least be showing some interest to send a minister to Durazzo." Here, perhaps, is a post for poor Mr. Masterman. The Kerry News states that it prefers pigs to Englishmen. This seems a... more...

ONE STAR. Occasionally I receive letters from friends whom I have not seen lately addressed to Lieutenant M—— and apologising prettily inside in case I am by now a colonel; in drawing-rooms I am sometimes called "Captain-er"; and up at the Fort the other day a sentry of the Royal Defence Corps, wearing the Créçy medal, mistook me for a Major, and presented crossbows to me. This is all... more...