THE PEARL BOX   THE DYING BOY. A little boy, by the name of Bertie, was taken very ill, and for sometime continued to grow weaker until he died. A few hours before his death he revived up, and his first request was to be bathed in the river; but his mother persuaded him to be sponged only, as the river water would be too cold for his weak frame. After his mother had sponged him with water, he desired... more...

{vii} PREFACE "The human race, to which so many of my readers belong," as Mr. Gilbert Chesterton begins one of his books by saying, has half its members in Asia. That Americans should know something about so considerable a portion of our human race is manifestly worth while. And really to know them at all we must know them as they are to-day. Vast changes are in progress, and even as I write... more...

One afternoon in July, 1869, I was seated at my desk in Locock's law-office in the town of Kiota, Kansas. I had landed in New York from Liverpool nearly a year before, and had drifted westwards seeking in vain for some steady employment. Lawyer Locock, however, had promised to let me study law with him, and to give me a few dollars a month besides, for my services as a clerk. I was fairly... more...

POSTSCRIPT This book is now reprinted without addition or change, except in a few small details. If it had to be written over again, many things, no doubt, would be expressed in a different way. For example, after some time happily spent in reading the Danish and other ballads, I am inclined to make rather less of the interval between the ballads and the earlier heroic poems, and I have learned... more...

ACT I. Scene I.—ELSINORE. A Platform before the Castle. Night. Francisco on his post. Enter to him Bernardo, L.H. Ber. Who's there? Fran. (R.) Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. Ber. Long live the king! Fran. Bernardo? Ber. He. Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. Fran. For this relief much thanks: [Crosses to L.]... more...

THE PEPPERELLS AND THE CAPTAIN One bright warm noonday in May of the year 1638, Goodwife Pepperell opened the door of her little log cabin, and, screening her eyes from the sun with a toilworn hand, looked about in every direction, as if searching for some one. She was a tall, spare woman, with a firm mouth, keen blue eyes, and a look of patient endurance in her face, bred by the stern life of pioneer... more...

CHAPTER I MISS NOBODY FROM NOWHERE The girls at Higbee School that term had a craze for marking everything they owned with their monograms. Such fads run through schools like the measles. Their clothing, books, tennis rackets, school-bags—everything that was possible—blossomed with monograms, more or less ornate. Of course, some girls’ initials offered a wider scope than others’ for the... more...

"It's not enough to have a nudist colony move in next door!" fumed Professor Paulsen. "No, indeed! That wouldn't disrupt things enough. Now, in addition, every ne'er-do-well in the county comes prowling over our farm in order to spy on the naked numbskulls!" Scowling ferociously, the gaunt scientist stamped violently back across the meadow's lush verdure toward the... more...

THE TALE OF BRYNILD Sivard he a colt has got,   The swiftest ’neath the sun;Proud Brynild from the Hill of Glass   In open day he won. Unto her did of knights and swains   The very flower ride;Not one of them the maid to win   Could climb the mountain’s side. The hill it was both steep and smooth;   Upon its lofty headHer sire had set her, knight nor swain   He swore with her should... more...

The Harlequinade For some time now she has been sitting there. Miss Alice Whistler is an attractive young person of about fifteen (very readily still she tells her age), dressed in a silver grey frock which she wishes were longer. The frock has a white collar; she wears grey silk stockings and black shoes; and, finally, a little black silk apron, one of those French aprons. If you must know still more... more...