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There was once a time (he began) when I decided that I was a fraud; that I could not be a psychical researcher any longer. I determined to give it all up, to investigate no more phenomena nor attend another séance, nor read a word about psychical research for the remainder of my life. On the contrary, I planned an intensive study of the works of the later Victorians, of that blissful period in the...
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Samuel Appleton
Samuel Appleton was born at New Ipswich, N.H., June 22, 1766, and died, without issue, at his residence in Boston, on Tuesday, July 12, 1853; having just entered on the eighty-eighth year of his age. In November, 1819, he married Mrs. Mary Gore, who was much younger than himself. This union has been marked, on his side, by the most unvarying confidence and sincere affection. He has ever found his own...
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Arthur E. Becher
The Prairie Mother Sunday the Fifteenth I opened my eyes and saw a pea-green world all around me. Then I heard the doctor say: “Give ’er another whiff or two.” His voice sounded far-away, as though he were speaking through the Simplon Tunnel, and not merely through his teeth, within twelve inches of my nose. I took my whiff or two. I gulped at that chloroform like a thirsty Bedouin at a...
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INTRODUCTION "If thou hast the right, O Erin,to a champion of battle to aid theethou hast the head of a hundredthousand, Declan of Ardmore"(Martyrology of Oengus). Five miles or less to the east of Youghal Harbour, on the southern Irish coast, a short, rocky and rather elevated promontory juts, with a south-easterly trend, into the ocean [about 51 deg. 57 min. N / 7 deg. 43 min. W]. Maps and...
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CHAPTER I PROBLEMS OF THE FUTURE The newspapers have lately been making large quotations from the poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling. They might, if they had been so minded, have laid under similar contribution the Revelation of St. John the Divine. There, too, with all the imagery usual in Apocalyptic literature, is to be found a description of vague and confused fighting, when most of the Kings of the...
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Gertrude P. Dyer
THE FORGET-ME-NOT—FIDELITY. n the days of the long-ago, my ancestors did not dwell as we do now—in brooks or by the banks of shallow streams, but grew in wild luxuriance beneath the shade of overhanging trees, and under the wayside hedgerows. We were always a quiet, unassuming race, and, indeed, I am fain to confess, were not held in more esteem by mortals than are our sweet cousins whom children...
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AFTERWARD. There is no vacant chair. The loving meetâA group unbrokenâsmitten, who knows how?One sitteth silent only, in his usual seat;We gave him once that freedom. Why not now? Perhaps he is too weary, and needs rest;He needed it too often, nor could weBestow. God gave it, knowing how to do so best.Which of us would disturb him? Let him be. There is no vacant chair. If he will takeThe mood...
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A SONG. I. No riches from his scanty store My lover could impart;He gave a boon I valued more— He gave me all his heart! II. His soul sincere, his gen'rous worth, Might well this bosom move;And when I ask'd for bliss on earth, I only meant his love. III. But now for me, in search of gain From shore to shore he flies:Why wander riches to obtain, When love is all I prize?...
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It was close upon eleven o'clock when I stepped out of the rear vestibule of the Boston Theatre, and, passing through the narrow court that leads to West Street, struck across the Common diagonally. Indeed, as I set foot on the Tremont Street mall, I heard the Old South drowsily sounding the hour. It was a tranquil June night, with no moon, but clusters of sensitive stars that seemed to shiver...
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Chapter One. Philip Western. “You positively annoy me, Joseph, and make me feel more angry than I care to admit. The matter is a serious one, and I am deeply distressed. After thirteen years of the most careful bringing-up there is complete and absolute failure. It is a miserable reward. And then, to make matters worse, you laugh at me, and egg the lad on to even greater crimes!” “Fiddlesticks,...
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