THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS "Say not 'a small event.' Why 'small'?Costs it more pain that this ye call'A great event' should come to passThan that? Untwine me from the massOf deeds which make up life, one deedPower should fall short in, or exceed." The following chapter is an Extract from the Journal of Miss SusanStandish, dated Nepaug, July 1, 189-. We are a... more...

SMITH AND THE PHARAOHSIScientists, or some scientists—for occasionally one learned person differs from other learned persons—tell us they know all that is worth knowing about man, which statement, of course, includes woman. They trace him from his remotest origin; they show us how his bones changed and his shape modified, also how, under the influence of his needs and passions, his intelligence... more...

CHAPTER I. I held it in my right hand, toying with it curiously, and not without pleasure. It was merely a long, wooden pen-holder, inky and inert to an unappreciative eye, but to me it was a bright magician, skilled in the painting of glowing pictures, a traveller in many climes, a tried and trusted friend, who had led me safely through many strange adventures and much uncouth dialect. "Old... more...

MIXED! n a room in the married non-commissioned officers' quarters in the cantonments at Agra, a young woman was sitting looking thoughtfully at two infants, who lay sleeping together on the outside of a bed with a shawl thrown lightly over them. Jane Humphreys had been married about a year. She was the daughter of the regimental sergeant-major, and had been a spoilt child. She was good looking,... more...

PREFACE. In New-York, there are a number of Market Houses. Those called Fulton and Washington Markets are the largest. Fulton Market is at the East end of Fulton-street, near the East River, and the Washington Market is on the West end, near the North River. The first was formerly situated in Maiden-lane, on the East River side, and was called Fly Market. The latter was also in Maiden-lane, near... more...

CHAPTER I. "THERE is a book of record in your mind, Edwin," said an old man to his young friend, "a book of record, in which every act of your life is noted down. Each morning a blank page is turned, on which the day's history is written in lines that cannot be effaced. This book of record is your memory; and, according to what it bears, will your future life be happy or miserable. An... more...

CHAPTER I IN QUARANTINE "The pay is small enough," said Captain Kettle, staring at the blue paper. "It's a bit hard for a man of my age and experience to come down to a job like piloting, on eight pound a month and my grub." "All right, Capt'n," replied the agent. "You needn't tell me what I know already. The pay's miserable, the climate's vile, and... more...

CHAPTER I IN WHICH OUR HERO GOES FISHING Startled from a sound sleep, he fumbled blindly beneath the bed that he might throttle the insistent alarm clock before the clamor awakened the other members of the household. Then he lay back and listened breathlessly for parental voices of inquiry as to what he might be doing at the unearthly hour of half-past three on a late September morning. Far down the... more...

Sleeping in Snow. Cold comfort is naturally suggested by a bed of snow, yet I have enjoyed great comfort and much warmth in such a bed. My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a... more...

Timbuctoo A POEMWHICH OBTAINEDTHE CHANCELLOR'S MEDALAT THE Cambridge Commencement MDCCCXXIX BYA. TENNYSON Of Trinity College [Printed in Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of Friday, July 10, 1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curia Cantabrigiensi Recitatæ Comitiis Maximis, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in Cambridge Prize Poems,... more...