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by:
Raymond F. Jones
Of Men of Science The story of man is the story—endlessly repeated—of a struggle: between light and darkness, between knowledge and ignorance, between good and evil, between men who would build and men who would destroy. It is no more complicated than this. That light, knowledge, good, and constructive men have had a small edge in this struggle is attested to by our slow rise over the long...
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CHAPTER I MOBILIZATION OF PUBLIC OPINION The Haupttelegraphenamt (the Chief Telegraph Office) in Berlin is the centre of the entire telegraph system of Germany. It is a large, brick building in the Franzoesischestrasse guarded, day and night, by soldiers. The sidewalks outside the building are barricaded. Without a pass no one can enter. Foreign correspondents in Berlin, when they had telegrams to send...
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by:
John Gilbert
FANNY'S BIRTHDAY. Here is a nice new book! It is mine. Papa has just given it to me, for this is my birth-day, and I am five years old. Oh, how pretty it is! Here are boys and girls at play, like Willie and me; and here is nurse, with baby on her knee. They will call me a dunce if I do not learn to read well, so I will try my very best; for what is the use of a nice book like this, if I cannot...
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Edwin Hodder
CHAPTER I. THE INTRODUCTION. Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the panels. "Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on and sleeves...
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MARY'S MEADOW. CHAPTER I. Mother is always trying to make us love our neighbors as ourselves. She does so despise us for greediness, or grudging, or snatching, or not sharing what we have got, or taking the best and leaving the rest, or helping ourselves first, or pushing forward, or praising Number One, or being Dogs in the Manger, or anything selfish. And we cannot bear her to despise us! We...
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by:
Ralph Connor
THE OLD STONE MILL There were two ways by which one could get to the Old Stone Mill. One, from the sideroad by a lane which, edged with grassy, flower-decked banks, wound between snake fences, along which straggled irregular clumps of hazel and blue beech, dogwood and thorn bushes, and beyond which stretched on one side fields of grain just heading out this bright June morning, and on the other side a...
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Near the verge of a bold promontory stands the hotel, and looks southeastward over a sweep of sea unbroken to the horizon. Behind it stretches the vast forest, which after two hundred years has resumed the sterile coast wrested from it by the first Pilgrims, and has begun to efface the evidences of the inroad made in recent years by the bold speculator for whom Jocelyn's is named. The young...
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by:
Owen Wister
HOW LIN McLEAN WENT EAST In the old days, the happy days, when Wyoming was a Territory with a future instead of a State with a past, and the unfenced cattle grazed upon her ranges by prosperous thousands, young Lin McLean awaked early one morning in cow camp, and lay staring out of his blankets upon the world. He would be twenty-two this week. He was the youngest cow-puncher in camp. But because he...
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by:
Mynors Bright
January 1st, 1663-64. Went to bed between 4 and 5 in the morning with my mind in good temper of satisfaction and slept till about 8, that many people came to speak with me. Among others one came with the best New Year's gift that ever I had, namely from Mr. Deering, with a bill of exchange drawn upon himself for the payment of L50 to Mr. Luellin. It being for my use with a letter of compliment. I...
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