CHAPTER I PEACEFUL DAYS On the shores of Long Lake the dozen girls who made up the Manasquan Camp Fire of the Camp Fire Girls of America were busily engaged in preparing for a friendly contest and matching of skill that had caused the greatest excitement among the girls ever since they had learned that it was to take place. For the first time since the organization of the Camp Fire under the... more...

CHAPTER I Walking slowly down a broad stairway, a girl carried three old silver candlesticks in her hands. And although the hallway was in semi-darkness, the candles had not yet been lighted. It was a cold November afternoon and the great house was chill and silent. Entering the drawing room, she placed the candles upon the mantelpiece. Her breath was like a small gray cloud before her; and her dress,... more...

CHAPTER I IN THE CITY "I never dreamed of such a lovely room, Zara, did you?" Bessie King, her eyes open with admiration and wonder, asked her chum the question in a room in the home of Eleanor Mercer, Guardian of the Manasquan Camp Fire, of the Camp Fire Girls. Both the girls were new members of the organization, and Bessie, who had lived all her life in the country, and had known nothing of... more...

CHAPTER I AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR “Oh, what a glorious day!” cried Bessie King, the first of the members of the Manasquan Camp Fire Girls of America to emerge from the sleeping house of Camp Sunset, on Lake Dean, and to see the sun sparkling on the water of the lake. She was not long alone in her enjoyment of the scene, however. “Oh, it’s lovely!” said Dolly Ransom, as, rubbing her eyes... more...

CHAPTER I. A MERCILESS ENEMY. “All tickets, please!” The blue-uniformed conductor, with a lantern under his arm, and his punch in hand, entered the smoking-car of the Boston express. It was between seven and eight o’clock on the night of the tenth of December. The train was speeding eastward through the wintry landscape of the State of Maine. Among the passengers in the smoking-car was a... more...

ATTRIBUTED TO CHEVALIER JOHNSTONE. Hope that heavenly, healing balm, that gift from Providence, blended with persecutions to blunt the sharpness of their sting and hinder the unfortunate from being overwhelmed, and sinking under the load of their afflictions, never dies out—never abandons the distressed. "We don't believe in dangers," says Machiavel, "until they are over our heads;... more...

PREFACE. The site now occupied by the two cities of New York and Brooklyn, and over which they continue to spread, is pre-eminently "Revolutionary soil." Very few of our historic places are more closely associated with the actual scenes of that struggle. As at Boston in 1775, so here in 1776, we had the war at our doors and all about us. In what is now the heart of Brooklyn Revolutionary... more...

I. INTRODUCTION. It must seem to the casual reader of the history of the war of 1861-65, that enough has already been written upon the campaign of Chancellorsville. And there are numerous brilliant essays, in the histories now before the public, which give a coup-d'oeil more or less accurate of this ten-days' passage of arms. But none of these spread before the reader facts sufficiently... more...

DISMAYING NEWS “How are you feeling to-day, Ben?” “Fairly good, Larry. If it wasn’t for this awfully hot weather, the wound wouldn’t bother me at all. The doctor says that if I continue to improve as I have, I can rejoin my company by the middle of next week.” “You mustn’t hurry matters. You did enough fighting at Caloocan, Malabon, Polo, and here, to last you for some time. Let the... more...

PRELUDE Seldom, in the annals of war, has a single campaign witnessed such a remarkable series of reverses as did that which began at Boston in March, 1776, and ended at Morristown in January, 1777. Only by successive defeats did our home-made generals and our rustic soldiery learn their costly lesson that war is not a game of chance, or mere masses of men an army. Though costly, this sort of... more...