CHAPTER I. “Flora, have you forgotten the talk we had about emigration, the morning before our marriage?” was a question rather suddenly put to his young wife, by Lieutenant Lyndsay, as he paused in his walk to and fro the room. The fact is, that he had been pondering over that conversation for the last hour. It had long been forgotten by his wife; who, seated upon the sofa with a young infant of... more...

The slingshot was, I believe, one of the few weapons of history that wasn't used in the last war. That doesn't mean it won't be used in the next! "Got a bogey at three o'clock high. Range about six hundred miles." Johnson spoke casually, but his voice in the intercom was thin with tension. Captain Paul Coulter, commanding Space Fighter 308, 58th Squadron, 33rd Fighter Wing,... more...

EDWARD LEAR England, 1812-1888 The Owl and the Pussy-CatThe Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat.They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the moon above,And sang to a small guitar,"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love!What a beautiful Pussy you are,—You are;What a beautiful Pussy you are!"10 Pussy said to the Owl,... more...

CHAPTER 1.–A Clever Capture. "I think that fellow is following us, Bob." "What fellow, Dick?" "The one on the other side of the way, the man with a beard and a steeple-crowned hat." "Yes, I see him, but why should he follow us, Dick?" "To obtain information, I suppose. He is certainly watching and following us and if we were to stop anywhere you would see that he... more...

CHAPTER I. The Trial. Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an innocent man. He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces. But on this morning,... more...

PREFACE French prose and French poetry had interested me during so many years that when Mr. Gosse invited me to write this book I knew that I was qualified in one particular—the love of my subject. Qualified in knowledge I was not, and could not be. No one can pretend to know the whole of a vast literature. He may have opened many books and turned many pages; he cannot have penetrated to the soul of... more...

CHAPTER I A DANGEROUS ERRAND A city of hills with a fringe of houses crowning the lower heights; half-mountains rising bare in the background and becoming real mountains as they stretched away in the distance to right and left; a confused mass of buildings coming to the water's edge on the flat; a forest of masts, ships swinging in the stream, and the streaked, yellow, gray-green water of the bay... more...

CHAPTER I She was small and slight, with timid, brown eyes and soft, fair hair and a certain daintiness of person that singled her out for attention in spite of the shabbiness of her clothes. The first morning she put in an appearance at the factory the other girls marked her down as being a little different from themselves; a little less rough and capable of looking after her own interests, a little... more...

LOST POND "Lost Pond" was a tradition, a myth. It had never been seen by any living person. Two dead men, it was alleged, had visited it on several occasions while they were yet living. Wonderful tales were told about that pond for which many persons had hunted, but which no one of the present generation had ever been able to find. Every guide in Long Lake township talked about Lost Pond and... more...

CHAPTER I OUR HERO t was a murky October day that the hero of our tale, Mr. Sponge, or Soapey Sponge, as his good-natured friends call him, was seen mizzling along Oxford Street, wending his way to the West. Not that there was anything unusual in Sponge being seen in Oxford Street, for when in town his daily perambulations consist of a circuit, commencing from the Bantam Hotel in Bond Street into... more...