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Dandies and Dandies How very delightful Grego's drawings are! For all their mad perspective and crude colour, they have indeed the sentiment of style, and they reveal, with surer delicacy than does any other record, the spirit of Mr. Brummell's day. Grego guides me, as Virgil Dante, through all the mysteries of that other world. He shows me those stiff-necked, over-hatted, wasp-waisted... more...

THE MAN WHO HUNTS AND DOESN'T LIKE IT. It seems to be odd, at first sight, that there should be any such men as these; but their name and number is legion. If we were to deduct from the hunting-crowd farmers, and others who hunt because hunting is brought to their door, of the remainder we should find that the "men who don't like it" have the preponderance. It is pretty much the same,... more...

CHAPTER I. The green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad studio window where Heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. It was Melissa, the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and outstretched arms, panting for breath. "That is enough!" cried her father's impatient voice. He glanced up at the flood of light which the blinding sun of Alexandria... more...

Take my life, and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee. Take my moments and my days; Let them flow in ceaseless praise. Take my hands, and let them move At the impulse of Thy love. Take my feet, and let them be Swift and ‘beautiful’ for Thee. Take my voice, and let me sing Always, only, for my King. Take my lips and let them be Filled with messages from Thee. Take my silver and my gold; Not a mite... more...

Mount Pleasant. “Jake!” “Dat me, Mass’ Tom.” “Have you heard the gun fire yet?” “Golly, no, Mass’ Tom.” “Then you must go up the hill at once and see whether the mail steamer has been signalled or not. She ought to have been in sight by now; for, she’s been expected since early this morning, and we’re all anxious about the news from England.” “All right, Mass’ Tom, me go... more...

by: Various
CLIFTON. Clifton is the Montpellier of England, and is associated with all that is delightful in nature: of this, the Engraving before us is a true picture, whether we contemplate the winding Avon; the sublime beauty of its rocks— Clifton's airy rocks, (as Mr. Bowles poetically calls them), the picturesque scenery of the opposite shore; or the abodes of cottage comforts which cluster into a... more...

CHAPTER I. 'For be it knownThat their saint's honour is their own.'—SCOTT. The town of Micklethwayte was rising and thriving. There were salubrious springs which an enterprising doctor had lately brought into notice. The firm of Greenleaf and Dutton manufactured umbrellas in large quantities, from the stout weather-proof family roof down to the daintiest fringed toy of a parasol. There... more...

CHAPTER I. PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S COURT The rumble of President John Adams's coach had hardly died away in the distance on the morning of March 4,1801, when Mr. Thomas Jefferson entered the breakfast room of Conrad's boarding house on Capitol Hill, where he had been living in bachelor's quarters during his Vice-Presidency. He took his usual seat at the lower end of the table among... more...

CHAPTER I. The Flight of Big Pete Ellis. “Look out thar!” A young, red-bearded man of herculean frame fiercely jerked the words between his teeth as he leaped between two boys who were about to enter the country store, from the door of which he sprang. Diving aside, but quickly turning, the lads saw the cause of their sudden movement bound into a wagon standing near, and with a furious cry to the... more...

ES, she has grown old, And has caught a bad cold, Only bread and milk she touches, Except a little gruel, but she burns a greatdeal of fuel, and you may count,One, Two, Three, a great many times,while she hobbles across the room on hercrutches.   NOW many Lives has the Cat got? NONE! Is it true then, as they said, That poor old Puss is dead, So many lives as she’d got?   ES, the song has all been... more...