PROLOGUE. A week ago, my friend the Journalist wrote to remind me that once upon a time I had offered him a bed in my cottage at Troy and promised to show him the beauties of the place. He was about (he said) to give himself a fortnight's holiday, and had some notion of using that time to learn what Cornwall was like. He could spare but one day for Troy, and hardly looked to exhaust its... more...

PREFACE That all Defoe's novels, with the exception of "Robinson Crusoe," should have been covered with the dust of neglect for many generations, is a plain proof of how much fashions in taste affect the popularity of the British classics. It is true that three generations or so ago, Defoe's works were edited by both Sir Walter Scott and Hazlitt, and that this masterly piece of... more...

PREFACE What I aim at in this book is little more than to give complete reflection to those great figures in Literature which have so long obsessed me. This poor reflection of them passes, as they pass, image by image, eidolon by eidolon, in the flowing stream of my own consciousness. Most books of critical essays take upon themselves, in unpardonable effrontery, to weigh and judge, from their own... more...

THE CHRONICLE OF THE DRUM. PART I. At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers,Whoever will choose to repair,Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriorsMay haply fall in with old Pierre.On the sunshiny bench of a tavernHe sits and he prates of old wars,And moistens his pipe of tobaccoWith a drink that is named after Mars. The beer makes his tongue run the quicker,And as long as his tap never fails,Thus over his... more...

THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH The gulch ran in a trough of beauty to the foot of Jones’s Hill, which rose in a sweeping curve into the clouds. Wild flowers, trees in profuse leaf, and mats of vines covered the scarred earth, and the sky was as limpid as spring water; the air carried a weight of heart-stirring odors, yet Jim Felton, sitting on the door-step of his cabin in the brilliant sunshine,... more...

OLYMPUS AND ASGARD. How remote from the nineteenth century of the Christian era lies the old Homeric world! By the magic of the Ionian minstrel's verse that world is still visible to the inner eye. Through the clouds and murk of twenty centuries and more, it is still possible to catch clear glimpses of it, as it lies there in the golden sunshine of the ancient days. A thousand objects nearer in... more...

CHAPTER ONE In the whole wide world there were no comrades who loved each other better than Petrik,[1] Ondrejko,[2] and Fido. All three were orphans and had had a hard time in the world thus far. Both parents of Petrik had died of a malignant fever. He became a public charge and was sent from place to place, till finally he was placed in charge of "Bacha"[3] Filina, who was his father's... more...

et away from me!" screamed Dr. Berry at the approaching figure. "But Ah got to feed an' water the animals an' clean out the cages," drawled the lanky, eighteen-year-old boy amiably. "Get out of this laboratory, you hoodoo," shrilled Berry, "or I swear I'll kill you! I'll not give you the chance to do me in!" Tow-headed Dolliver Wims regarded chubby Dr.... more...

OR, THE ADVENTURES OF TEN PRINCES There was formerly, in the most fertile part of India, a city called Pushpapuri, the capital of Magadha, magnificent as a mine of jewels, abounding in every kind of wealth, surpassing all other cities in splendour and prosperity. The sovereign of this city and country was Râjahansa, whose armies were formidable with countless elephants and horses, whose glory was... more...

A Defective Santa Claus Allus when our Pa he's away Nen Uncle Sidney comes to stay At our house here—so Ma an' me An' Etty an' Lee-Bob won't be Afeard ef anything at night Might happen—like Ma says it might. (Ef Trip wuz big, I bet you he 'Uz best watch-dog you ever see!) An' so last winter—ist before It's go' be Chris'mus-Day,—w'y, shore... more...