CHAPTER I "Well, Robin, on what folly do you employ yourself? Do you cut sticks for our fire o' mornings?" Thus spoke Master Hugh Fitzooth, King's Ranger of the Forest at Locksley, as he entered his house. Robin flushed a little. "These are arrows, sir," he announced, holding one up for inspection. Dame Fitzooth smiled upon the boy as she rose to meet her lord. "What... more...

The little man had a head like an old-fashioned light bulb and a smile that seemed to say he had secrets from the rest of the world. He didn't talk much, just an occasional "Oh," "Mm" or "Ah." Krayton figured he must be all right, though. After all he'd been sent to Computer City by the Information Department itself, and his credentials must have been checked in a... more...

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE THIRD KITTEN   Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice old gentleman rabbit, came walking slowly up the front path that led to his hollow-stump bungalow. He was limping a little on his red, white and blue striped barber-pole rheumatism crutch that Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, had gnawed for him out of a corn-stalk. “Well, I’m glad to be home again,” said... more...

PREFACE. The following treatise was awarded the Harness Prize at Cambridge in 1904. I have, however, revised it since then, and in some matters considerably enlarged it. A list of the chief authorities to whom I am indebted will be found at the end of the book, but it is fitting that I should here make particular mention of my obligations to the exhaustive work of Mr Bond. Not only have his labours of... more...

LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS. No. VII.—TO VANITY. DEAR VANITY, Imagine my feelings when I read the following letter. It lay quite innocently on my breakfast-table in a heap of others. It was stamped in the ordinary way, post-marked in the ordinary way, and addressed correctly, though how the charming writer discovered my address I cannot undertake to say; in fact, there was nothing in its outward... more...

My first Appearance in Uniform. “Um!” ejaculated my father as he thoughtfully removed his double eye-glass from his nose with one hand, and with the other passed a letter to me across the breakfast-table—“Um! this letter will interest you, Dick. It is from Captain Vernon.” My heart leapt with sudden excitement, and my hand trembled as I stretched it out for the proffered epistle. The mention... more...

He paused on the platform and glanced at his watch. The train on which he had just arrived was late. It hurried away from the station, and was swallowed up in the blackness of the tunnel, as if it knew its own shortcomings and wished to make up for them. It was five minutes of six, and as the young man looked back at the long flight of steps that led to the bridge across the tracks, a delicate... more...

PREFACE. The following Discourses are presented to the public in book form, agreeable to the request of numerous friends.  I have selected twenty from one hundred and thirty which I have given to my own congregation during the past three years.  I have tried to have them lean one against another, to the end that the argument might be continuous and somewhat complete.  The reader will remember,... more...

Introduction This is the story of what has been called "the great American despotism." It is the story of the establishment of an absolute throne and dynasty by one American citizen over a half-million others. And it is the story of the amazing reign of this one man, Joseph F. Smith, the Mormon Prophet, a religious fanatic of bitter mind, who claims that he has been divinely ordained to... more...

OUR FRIEND JOHN BURROUGHS We all claim John Burroughs as our friend. He is inextricably blended with our love for the birds and the flowers, and for all out of doors; but he is much more to us than a charming writer of books about nature, and we welcome familiar glimpses of him as one welcomes anything which brings him in closer touch with a friend. A clever essayist, in speaking of the "obituary... more...