General Books

The Cat-tail Arrow BY CLARA DOTY BATES ittle Sammie made a bow, Well indeed he loved to whittle, Shaped it like the half of O— How he could I scarcely know, For his fingers were so little. As he whittled came a sigh: "If I only had an arrow; Something light enough to fly To the tree-tops or the sky! Then I'd have such fun tomorrow." Then he thought of all the slim Things that grow—the... more...

FANTASIES.   Altruism: A Legend of Old Persia. In the flowery land of Persia Long ago, as poets tell, Where three rivers met together Did a happy people dwell. Never did these happy people Suffer sickness, plague, or dearth, Living in a golden climate In the fairest place on earth, Living thus thro' endless summers And half-summers hardly colder, Growing, tho' they hardly guessed it, Very... more...

XXXIV O, take to your fancy a sculptor whose fresh marble offspringappearsBefore him, shiningly perfect, the laurel-crown'd issue of years:Is heaven offended? for lightning behold from its bosom escape,And those are mocking fragments that made the harmonious shape!He cannot love the ruins, till, feeling that ruins aloneAre left, he loves them threefold. So passed the old grandfather'smoan.... more...

This volume, while it is complete in itself, is also the first of a trilogy, the scope of which is suggested in the prologue. The story of scientific discovery has its own epic unity—a unity of purpose and endeavour—the single torch passing from hand to hand through the centuries; and the great moments of science when, after long labour, the pioneers saw their accumulated facts falling into a... more...

Justinian at WindermereWetook a hundredweight of booksTo Windermere between us,Our dons had blessed our studious looks,Had they by chance but seen us.Maine, Blackstone, Sandars, all were there,And Hallam'sMiddle Ages,And Austin with his style so rare,And Poste's enticing pages.We started well: the little innWas deadly dull and quiet,As dull as Mrs. Wood'sEast Lynne,Or as the verse of... more...

INTRODUCTION One Spring day in London, long before the invention of freak verse and Freudism, I was standing in front of the Cafe Royal in Regent Street when there emerged from its portals the most famous young writer of the day, the Poet about whose latest work "The Book Bills of Narcissus" all literary London was then talking. Richard Le Gallienne was the first real poet I had ever laid eyes... more...

MY BUNKIE   He's mostly gnarls and freckles and tan,  He'd surely come under society's ban,  He's a swearin', fightin' cavalryman,    But—he's my bunkie.   He's weathered the winds of the Western waste.  (You, gentle Christian, would call him debased)  And he's loved at his ease and married in haste,    Has my bunkie.   In a... more...

L'ALLEGRO   HENCE, loathed Melancholy,  …………Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born  In Stygian cave forlorn  …………'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights  unholy!  Find out some uncouth cell,  …………Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,  And the night-raven sings;  …………There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks,  As... more...

THE PECULIAR HISTORY OF THE CHEWING-GUM MAN. WILLIE, an’ Wallie, an’ Huldy Ann,They went an’ built a big CHEWIN’-GUM MAN:It was none o’ your teenty little dots,With pinhole eyes an’ pencil-spots;But this was a terribul big one—well,’T was a’most as high as the Palace Hotel! It took ’em a year to chew the gum!! And Willie he done it all, ’cept someThat Huldy got her ma to chew,By... more...

FOREWORD Songs from a far-away world; a cry from another sphere. To those of us who once experienced the still and pitiless cold, a cry terribly suggestive of the horror-charged gloom, of the icy silence as unbroken as that of unfathomable deeps, of the stern and uncompromising individuality of a disturbed and vengeful North. Yet one is also reminded that, even in the Klondyke, in due season the... more...