CHAPTER IWHAT WILL BECOME OF ME? A London dining-room was lighted with gas, which showed a table of small dimensions, with a vase of somewhat dirty and dilapidated grasses in the centre, and at one end a soup tureen, from which a gentleman had helped himself and a young girl of about thirteen, without much apparent consciousness of what he was about, being absorbed in a pile of papers, pamphlets, and... more...

INTRODUCTION Swift has been styled the Prince of Journalists. Like most titles whose aim is to express in modern words the character and achievements of a man of a past age, this phrase is not of the happiest. Applied to so extraordinary a man as Jonathan Swift, it is both misleading and inadequate. At best it embodies but a half-truth. It belongs to that class of phrases which, in emphasizing a... more...

CHAPTER I AN OUTLINE OF SHAKESPEARE'S LIFE Our Knowledge of Shakespeare.—No one in Shakespeare's day seems to have been interested in learning about the private lives of the dramatists. The profession of play writing had scarcely begun to be distinguished from that of play acting, and the times were not wholly gone by when all actors had been classed in public estimation as vagabonds. While... more...

CHAPTER I "It's plum amazin' ter heer ye norate thet ye've done been tradin' and hagglin' with old man McGivins long enough ter buy his logs offen him and yit ye hain't never met up with Alexander. I kain't hardly fathom hit noways." The shambling mountaineer stretched himself to his lean length of six feet two, and wagged an incredulous head. Out of pale eyes... more...

I It was the morning after the shipwreck. The five men still lay where they had slept. A long time had passed since anybody had spoken. A long time had passed since anybody had moved. Indeed, it, looked almost as if they would never speak or move again. So bruised and bloodless of skin were they, so bleak and sharp of feature, so stark and hollow of eye, so rigid and moveless of limb that they might... more...

CHAPTER THE FIRST. the root-valley and its inhabitants.—the story-telling guests.—the king of root-valley and his curious daughter.—the aerial chariot.—festivities in the town.—return through the air from the roof of the town-house.—whims of the princess. The road between Nuremberg and Leipsic ran in former times, in one part, along the edge of a dark forest, which stretched into the... more...

VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY.DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS.GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.FEBRUARY 15, 1914.   Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink dress, in... more...

CHAPTER I. WHAT'S IN HEREDITY Honora Leffingwell is the original name of our heroine. She was born in the last quarter of the Nineteenth Century, at Nice, in France, and she spent the early years of her life in St. Louis, a somewhat conservative old city on the banks of the Mississippi River. Her father was Randolph Leffingwell, and he died in the early flower of his manhood, while filling with a... more...

CHAPTER I. Uncle Billy rested his axe on the log he was chopping, and turned his grizzly old head to one side, listening intently. A confusion of sounds came from the little cabin across the road. It was a dilapidated negro cabin, with its roof awry and the weather-boarding off in great patches; still, it was a place of interest to Uncle Billy. His sister lived there with three orphan grandchildren.... more...

——   In the year 1788, March 28th, I was going from Bellfontain to Cahokia, in company with a young man named John Vallis, from the State of Maryland; he was born and raised near Baltimore. About 7 o'clock in the morning I heard two guns fired; by the report I thought they were to the right; I thought they were white men hunting; both shot at the same time. I looked but could not see any... more...