DONALD MACDONALD, M.D. The man came to a stop, a look of humiliation and deep self-disgust on his bronzed face. With methodical care he leaned his rifle against the seamed trunk of a forest patriarch and drew the sleeve of his hunting shirt across his forehead, now glistening with beads of sweat; then, and not until then, did he relieve his injured feelings by giving voice to a short but... more...

THE DEACON'S DILEMMA Miss Clegg was getting her own favorite tea. This always consisted of itself, toast, and a slice of bacon; and she apparently took as much pleasure in the preparation of the meal as if it were not the ten thousandth of its kind which she had cooked and eaten. As she hustled and bustled here and there, her manner seemed even more sprightly than usual; and it was only... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY Few literatures have exerted so profound an influence upon the literary history of other peoples as the poetry of the troubadours. Attaining the highest point of technical perfection in the last half of the twelfth and the early years of the thirteenth century, Provençal poetry was already popular in Italy and Spain when the Albigeois crusade devastated the south of France and... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a cold, bleak and freezing day, was that second day of the year 1764, in the good town of Bennington. The first day of the year had been celebrated in a devout fashion by nearly all the inhabitants of the district. Truly, some stayed away from the meeting-house, and especially was the absence of one family noticed. "It seems to me kind of strange and creepy-like that those Allen... more...

CHAPTER I There is an old fairy story concerning a pea which a princess once slept upon—a little offending pea, a minute disturbance, a trifling departure from the normal which grew to the proportions of intolerable suffering because of the too sensitive and undisciplined nervous system of Her Royal Highness. The story, I think, does not tell us much else concerning the princess. It does not tell us,... more...

CHAPTER I BREWSTER'S CENTRE Maybe you think just because scouts go camping in the summer time, and take hikes and all that, that there's nothing to do in the winter. But I'm always going to stick up for winter, that's one sure thing. Anyway, this story isn't exactly a winter story, it's a kind of a fall story—lightweight. Maybe after this I'll write a heavyweight... more...

WHERE UNION DWELT Beside the deep ravine the cottage stood,O'erlooking elm and willow, beech and birch,In growth profuse and wild o'er shady stream:And viewing cedar, oak and towering pineOn yonder crest aglow with light. How grandThe vision in the greenness of the spring,When birds of blue and scarlet vestments come;The greater glory of the summer time,When twinkling wings outvie the rarest... more...

CHAPTER I. THE WAGER "Speak of the Devil," whispered La Fosse in my ear, and, moved by the words and by the significance of his glance, I turned in my chair. 1The door had opened, and under the lintel stood the thick-set figure of the Comte de Chatellerault. Before him a lacquey in my escutcheoned livery of red-and-gold was receiving, with back obsequiously bent, his hat and cloak. A sudden... more...

THE SCOTTISH NATIONAL RECORDS. The two principal causes of the loss of these records are, the abstraction of them by Edward I. in 1292, and the destruction of a great many others by the reformers in their religious zeal. It so happens that up to the time of King Robert Bruce, the history is not much to be depended on. A great many valuable papers connected with the ancient ecclesiastical state of... more...

I THE SHADOW OF YEARS I was born by a golden river and in the shadow of two great hills, five years after the Emancipation Proclamation. The house was quaint, with clapboards running up and down, neatly trimmed, and there were five rooms, a tiny porch, a rosy front yard, and unbelievably delicious strawberries in the rear. A South Carolinian, lately come to the Berkshire Hills, owned all this—tall,... more...