RIP VAN WINKLE I Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Catskill Mountains. They are a branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of... more...

CHAPTER I. TOP, Mr. Arthur, if you please. You are not to go upstairs. Mistress left orders for you to stay in the library until she came down.” So spoke the younger servant at Ashton Grange, as Arthur rushed upstairs three steps at a time. “Why, what’s the matter? Why shouldn’t I go upstairs? Is anything the matter?” “I don’t know, Mr. Arthur, whether there is much the matter; but I am... more...

CHAPTER I. "Ananias!" "Ye-as, suh?" "What time is it?" "Gyahd-mountin' done gone, suh." "The devil it has! What do you mean, sir, by allowing me to sleep on in this shameless and unconscionable manner, when an indulgent government is suffering for my services? What sort of day is it, sir?" "Beautiful day, Mr. Waring." "Then go at once to Mr.... more...

CHAPTER I A CROCKERY CRASH "Well, here we are back home again!" exclaimed Nan Bobbsey, as she sat down in a chair on the porch. "Oh, but we have had such a good time!" "The best ever!" exclaimed her brother Bert, as he set down the valise he had been carrying, and walked back to the front gate to take a small satchel from his mother. "I'm going to carry mine! I want to... more...

Dedicated to the Directors and Shareholders of the California InsuranceCompany in 1906 who so nobly, at their own financial cost, did their"Big Bit." "On fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled." - Spenser Foreword Whatever of effort has been given in the pleasant pastime of writing these rambling and sketchy pages of reminiscences is dedicated to those who in the hours of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE PIONEER FAMILY.–A SPIRITED CHASE. “There, the last hill is dug, and I’m glad!” and Tom Jones leaned on his hoe, lost in thought. He was a stout lad of sixteen, with frowzy brown hair, crowned by a brimless straw hat, and his pants looked as if they had been turned inside out and outside in, upside down and downside up, and darned and patched and re-darned and patched again, until... more...

SAM'S GHOST Yes, I know, said the night-watchman, thoughtfully, as he sat with a cold pipe in his mouth gazing across the river. I've 'eard it afore. People tell me they don't believe in ghosts and make a laugh of 'em, and all I say is: let them take on a night-watchman's job. Let 'em sit 'ere all alone of a night with the water lapping against the posts and the... more...

CHAPTER I THE DILIGENCE James Therne is not my real name, for why should I publish it to the world? A year or two ago it was famous—or infamous—enough, but in that time many things have happened. There has been a war, a continental revolution, two scandals of world-wide celebrity, one moral and the other financial, and, to come to events that interest me particularly as a doctor, an epidemic of... more...

CHAPTER I ALL UPSET "There! It's all done, so I guess we can get on and start off! All aboard! Toot! Toot!" Russ Bunker made a noise like a steamboat whistle. "Get on!" he cried. "Oh, wait a minute! I forgot to put the broom in the corner," said Rose, his sister. "I was helping mother sweep, and I forgot to put the broom away. Wait for me, Russ! Don't let the boat... more...

A DAY AT ANTWERP. (By the "Vacuus Viator.") In the Place Verte.—"The traveller," according to Bædeker, "should at once direct his steps to the Cathedral." Not going to be bullied by Bædeker! Shall assert my independence by directing steps somewhere else first. Carillon tinkling fitfully up in tower. Like an elderly ghost with failing memory, trying to play every tune she... more...