EMMA GOLDMAN ANARCHIST REBEL The hanging of several anarchists in 1887 as a consequence of the Haymarket bombing in Chicago caused many Americans to sympathize with the gibbeted radicals. Youths swathed in bright idealism, men and women rooted in equalitarian democracy, workers trusting in the rectitude of their government—all doubted the guilt of the condemned prisoners and were deeply perturbed by... more...

A for Arab.This Arab is upset, I fear;Look at his pretty shield and spear.He's stuck two pistols in his sash,And, dear me, how his eyes do flash!At home he has a horse to ride;To "scour the desert" is his pride.His horse is of the purest breed;Some people call his horse a steed.Here is your little brother Boer,Of course, you've heard of him before;He has a naughty Uncle Paul,Who used... more...

CHAPTER I. TALKING OF MICHIGAN. My father was born in 1793, and my mother in 1802, in Putnam County, State of New York. Their names were John and Melinda Nowlin. Mother's maiden name was Light. My father owned a small farm of twenty-five acres, in the town of Kent, Putnam County, New York, about sixty miles from New York City. We had plenty of fruit, apples, pears, quinces and so forth, also a... more...

INTRODUCTION Towards the end of the summer of 1906 I received a letter from Mr. F. A. Mumby, of the Daily Graphic, asking me if I knew if Joseph Fletcher, the “Posh” of the “FitzGerald” letters, was still alive.  All about me were veterans of eighty, ay, and ninety! hale and garrulous as any longshoreman needs be.  But it had never occurred to me before that possibly the man who was Edward... more...

A SHACK ON THE PRAIRIE At sunset we came up out of the draw to the crest of the ridge. Perched on the high seat of the old spring wagon, we looked into a desolate land which reached to the horizon on every side. Prairie which had lain untouched since the Creation save for buffalo and roving bands of Indians, its brown grass scorched and crackling from the sun. No trees to break the endless monotony or... more...

CHAPTER I. STUDENT AND SOLDIER. The sunset-gun had been fired from the ramparts of the fortifications of Munich and the shadows were thickly descending on the famous old city of Southern Germany. The evening breeze in this truly March weather came chill over the plain of stones where Isar flowed darkly, and at the first puff of it, forcing him to wind his cloak round him, a lonely wanderer in the low... more...

Preface. The Sleeping Bard was originally written in the Welsh language, and was published about the year 1720.  The author of it, Elis Wyn, was a clergyman of the Cambro Anglican Church, and a native of Denbighshire, in which county he passed the greater part of his life, at a place called Y las Ynys.  Besides the Sleeping Bard, he wrote and published a book in Welsh, consisting of advice to... more...

I. ON BOOKS OF ADVENTURE Books of sporting, travel, and adventure in countries little known to the average reader naturally fall in two classes-neither, with a very few exceptions, of great value. One class is perhaps the logical result of the other. Of the first type is the book that is written to make the most of far travels, to extract from adventure the last thrill, to impress the awestricken... more...

‘I would rather be an angel than God!’ The voice of the speaker sounded clearly through the hawthorn tree.  The young man and the young girl who sat together on the low tombstone looked at each other.  They had heard the voices of the two children talking, but had not noticed what they said; it was the sentiment, not the sound, which roused their attention. The girl put her finger to her lips to... more...

CHAPTER I. A WOMAN BEST UNDERSTANDS A WOMAN. —Do you know what it is to suffer pain? Have you had your body racked and torn with intense suffering? Have you ever experienced that indescribable agony which comes from overworked nerves? Have you ever felt the sharp, stinging pain, the dull, heavy pain, the throbbing, jumping pain, the cramping, tearing pain, the sickening, nauseating pain? Then you... more...