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CHAPTER I. MY FIRST SUPPER PARTY The devil take me if I can remember her name, notwithstanding I dearly loved her, the charming girl! It is strange how rich we find ourselves when we rummage in old drawers; how many forgotten sighs, how many pretty little trinkets, broken, old-fashioned, and dusty, we come across. But no matter. I was now eighteen, and, upon my honor, very unsuspecting. It was in the... more...

INTRODUCTION. A word in explanation of this English edition is perhaps not unnecessary. It will be remembered that the arguments in the following pages appeared originally in the columns of Le Siècle, and from the correspondence between M. Yves Guyot and Dr. Kuyper and M. Brunetière (Appendix B), the reader will understand how the publication of Le Siècle articles in pamphlet form arose. In the... more...

I Finding himself in the level wood-road, whose open aisle drew a long, straight streak across the sky, still luminous with the late-lingering Adirondack twilight, the tall young fugitive, hatless, coatless, and barefooted, paused a minute for reflection. As he paused, he listened; but all distinctiveness of sound was lost in the play of the wind, up hill and down dale, through chasm and over crag, in... more...

The Chief Secretary's Musical Performance, with Accompaniment.—Mr. John Morley arrived last Friday at Kingston. He went to Bray. He was "accompanied" by the Under Secretary. Surely the Leader of the Opposition, now at Belfast, won't lose such a chance as this item of news offers. The "Water-Carnival."—Good idea! But a very large proportion of those whom the show attracts... more...

When nursery lamps are veiled, and nurse is singing In accents low,Timing her music to the cradle's swinging,Now fast, now slow,— Singing of Baby Bunting, soft and furry In rabbit cloak,Or rock-a-byed amid the toss and flurryOf wind-swept oak; Of Boy-Blue sleeping with his horn beside him, Of my son John,Who went to bed (let all good boys deride him)With stockings on; Of sweet Bo-Peep following... more...

I.—Ab initio. The name of the father of Ginx's Baby was Ginx. By a not unexceptional coincidence, its mother was Mrs. Ginx. The gender of Ginx's Baby was masculine. On the day when our hero was born, Mr. and Mrs. Ginx were living at Number Five, Rosemary Street, in the City of Westminster. The being then and there brought into the world was not the only human entity to which the title of... more...

In Macao. A Story from the "Grasshopper's Library." I was seated one pleasant day in the garden, which was given to the city of Macao by the Marcos family, near the grotto sacred to the poet Camoens, when a Portuguese priest came from among the wilderness of flowers and sat beside me. He spoke English with a pleasant accent and we read Bowring's effusion together, as it is engraved on... more...

INTRODUCTION It is a common weakness of mankind to be caught by an idea and captivated by a phrase. To rest therewith content and to neglect the carrying of the idea into practice is a weakness still more common. It is this frequent failure of reformers to reduce their theories to practice, their tendency to dwell in the cloudland of the ideal rather than to test it in action, that has often made them... more...

AN EXILE IN LONDON The May sunlight streamed in through the window, making curious patterns of the curtains upon the carpet. Outside, the tide of life was flowing fast; the green leaves of the Park were already offering agreeable shade to early strollers; the noise of cabs and omnibuses had set in steadily for the day. Outside, Knightsbridge was awake and active; inside, sleep reigned with quiet. The... more...

APOLOGIA "There are two ways of writing a book of travel: to recount the journey itself or the results of it." This is also the case with regard to any work which attempts to purvey topographical or historical information of a nature which is only to be gathered upon the spot; and, when an additional side-light is shown by reason of the inclusion, as in the present instance, of the artistic and... more...