CHAPTER I OFF FOR A SLEIGH-RIDE “What is the matter, Dave? You look rather mystified.” “I am mystified, Laura,” replied Dave Porter. “I have a letter here that I can’t understand at all.” “Whom is it from?” questioned Laura Porter, as she came closer to her brother, who was ensconced in the largest easy-chair the Wadsworth library contained. “It’s from a shopkeeper in Coburntown,... more...

THE STORY OF MISS MOPPET This is a Pussy called Miss Moppet, she thinks she has heard a mouse! This is the Mouse peeping out behind the cupboard, and making fun of Miss Moppet. He is not afraid of a kitten. This is Miss Moppet jumping just too late; she misses the Mouse and hits her own head. She thinks it is a very hard cupboard! The Mouse watches Miss Moppet from the top of the cupboard. Miss Moppet... more...

THE SHADOW There surely may come a time for each of us, if we have lived with any animation or interest, if we have had any constant or even fitful desire to penetrate and grasp the significance of the strange adventure of life, a time, I say, when we may look back a little, not sentimentally or with any hope of making out an impressive case for ourselves, and interrogate the memory as to what have... more...

5th July As I left the Palais-Bourbon at five o'clock that afternoon, it rejoiced my heart to breathe in the sunny air. The sky was bland, the river gleamed, the foliage was fresh and green. Everything seemed to whisper an invitation to idleness. Along the Pont de la Concorde, in the direction of the Champs-Elysées, victorias and landaus kept rolling by. In the shadow of the lowered... more...

Mrs. Eustace Greyne (pronounced Green) wrinkled her forehead—that noble, that startling forehead which had been written about in the newspapers of two hemispheres—laid down her American Squeezer pen, and sighed. It was an autumn day, nipping and melancholy, full of the rustle of dying leaves and the faint sound of muffin bells, and Belgrave Square looked sad even to the great female novelist who... more...

HOW IT'S DONE. A Handbook to Honesty. No. 11.—THE STRAIGHT "TIP." SCENE—Sanctum of "Large Wholesale House." Present, one of the Principals, a pompous personage, with imposing watch-chain, and abundant space for it to meander over, and a sleekly subservient "Head of Department." Principal looks irritated, Head of Department apprehensive, the former angrily shuffling some... more...

THE POT OF GOLD. The Flower family lived in a little house in a broad grassy meadow, which sloped a few rods from their front door down to a gentle, silvery river. Right across the river rose a lovely dark green mountain, and when there was a rainbow, as there frequently was, nothing could have looked more enchanting than it did rising from the opposite bank of the stream with the wet, shadowy mountain... more...

In a world where Security is all-important, nothing can ever be secure. A mountain-climbing vacation may wind up in deep Space. Or loyalty may prove to be high treason. But it has its rewards. It had been a tough day at the lab, one of those days when nothing seems able to go right. And, of course, it had been precisely the day Hammond, the Efficiency inspector, would choose to stick his nose in.... more...

CHAPTER 1. SUPPLY AND DEMAND. For years there has been a belief that the supply of fur-bearing animals would soon be inadequate to the demand. This belief is well founded and is apparent when the fact is known that the natural haunts and homes of the fur-producing animals are becoming less each year. The draining of swamps and marshes is destroying the homes and breeding places of muskrat and to a... more...

CHAPTER I THE GIRL-QUEEN AND HER KINGDOM Rather more than one mortal lifetime, as we average life in these later days, has elapsed since that June morning of 1837, when Victoria of England, then a fair young princess of eighteen, was roused from her tranquil sleep in the old palace at Kensington, and bidden to rise and meet the Primate, and his dignified associates the Lord Chamberlain and the royal... more...