LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOWA wild west Coast, a little Town,Where little Folk go up and down,Tides flow and winds blow:Night and Tempest and the Sea,Human Will and Human Fate:What is little, what is great?Howsoe'er the answer be,Let me sing of what I know.Adieu to Belashanny!where I was bred and born;Go where I may, I'll think of you,as sure as night and morn.The kindly spot, the friendly... more...

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CHAPTER I The poor young man hesitated and procrastinated: it cost him such an effort to broach the subject of terms, to speak of money to a person who spoke only of feelings and, as it were, of the aristocracy.  Yet he was unwilling to take leave, treating his engagement as settled, without some more conventional glance in that direction than he could find an opening for in the manner of the large... more...

THE GOLD-HUNTERS. Jeff Graham was an Argonaut who crossed the plains in 1849, while he was yet in his teens, and settling in California, made it his permanent home. When he left Independence, Mo., with the train, his parents and one sister were his companions, but all of them were buried on the prairie, and their loss robbed him of the desire ever to return to the East. Hostile Indians, storm, cold,... more...

This crazy, but not unpicturesque building, was taken down in the autumn of last year, in forming an approach to the New London Bridge. It stood on the eastern side of the High-street, and is worthy of record among the pleasing relics of antiquity, which it has ever been the object of The Mirror to rescue from oblivion. Its style of architecture—that of the seventh Henry—is interesting: there is a... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY The most interesting and important fifteen years in the records of English dramatic literature are undoubtedly those between 1588 and 1603, within which limit all of Shakespeare's poems and the majority of his plays were written; yet no exhaustive English history, intelligently co-ordinating the social, literary, and political life of this period, has ever been written.... more...

AN IMAGINATIVE WOMAN When William Marchmill had finished his inquiries for lodgings at a well-known watering-place in Upper Wessex, he returned to the hotel to find his wife.  She, with the children, had rambled along the shore, and Marchmill followed in the direction indicated by the military-looking hall-porter ‘By Jove, how far you’ve gone!  I am quite out of breath,’ Marchmill said, rather... more...

ANCESTRAL SHADOWS My ancestors, according to the flesh, were from both Scotland and England, my great-grandfather, on my father's side, being John McNeil of Edinburgh. His wife, my great-grandmother, was Marion Moor, and her family is said to have been in some way related to Hannah More, the pious and popular English authoress of a century ago. I remember reading, in my childhood, certain... more...

CHAPTER I. ANTWERP, ON THE SCHELDT. "Oh! how glad I am that part of the trip is over, now we've crossed from England to Antwerp without being wrecked!" "You certainly did seem to have a bad time of it, Tubby, in the wash of the Channel!" "Bad time did you say, Rob? It was a great deal worse than anything we struck on the voyage between New York and Liverpool, let me tell... more...

INTRODUCTION AMONG the numerous works on Canada that have been published within the last ten years, with emigration for their leading theme, there are few, if any, that give information regarding the domestic economy of a settler's life, sufficiently minute to prove a faithful guide to the person on whose responsibility the whole comfort of a family depends— the mistress, whose department it is... more...