I THE LITTLE LOST FOX Marmaduke was sitting on the fence. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just looking around. Jehosophat called to him from the barnyard,— "Come'n an' play 'I spy.'" But Marmaduke only grumbled,— "Don't want to." "Well, let's play 'Cross Tag' then," Jehosophat suggested. "Don't want to,"... more...

ADVENTURES OF A LONE WOMAN. "I will go and see the oil," remarked Miselle, at the end of a reverie of ten minutes. Caleb laid the "Morning Journal" upon the table, and prepared himself calmly to accept whatever new dispensation Providence and Miselle had allotted him. "Whaling?" inquired he. "No, not whaling. I am going to the Oil Springs." "By all means. They lie in... more...

To Melville Best Anderson That is poetry in which truth is expressed in the fewest possible words, in words which are inevitable, in words which could not be changed without weakening the meaning or throwing discord into the melody. To choose the right word and to discard all others, this is the chief factor in good writing. To learn good poetry by heart is to acquire help toward doing this,... more...

New Lamps "The fault I find with the Kingfield High School," proclaimed Kathleen Wilcox, squatting on the top of a boot locker, and putting on a new pair of patent leather house shoes with a deliberate eye to their effect upon her surrounding friends and foes, "the fault I find—yes, I do find fault and I shall, Lesbia Ferrars, though you are the oldest pupil and take the school under your... more...

Mr. William Hyde was discharged from Deer Lodge Penitentiary a changed man. That was quite in line with the accepted theory of criminal jurisprudence, the warden's discipline, and the chaplain's prayers. Yes, Mr. Hyde was changed, and the change had bitten deep; his humorous contempt for the law had turned to abiding hatred; his sunburned cheeks were pallid, his lungs were weak, and he... more...

The Adventure of a Kite. ne evening, when Mary, her mamma, and Willie had all taken their seats near the window, and the story was about to begin, Mary reminded her mamma of a merry adventure that she had mentioned as having happened when she and her brother and Master White went out to fly their "new Kite." "Do, mamma, tell us about that," said Mary. Her mamma said she would, and after... more...

The author of Lavengro, the Scholar, the Gypsy, and the Priest has after his fitful hour come into his own, and there abides securely.  Borrow’s books,—carelessly written, impatient, petulant, in parts repellant,—have been found so full of the elixir of life, of the charm of existence, of the glory of motion, so instinct with character, and mood, and wayward fancy, that their very names are... more...

HIS LIGHT Gray mist on the sea,And the night coming down,She stays with sorrowIn a far town. He goes the sea-waysBy channel lights dim,Her love, a true light,Watches for him. They would be weddedOn a fair yesterday,But the quick regimentSaw him away. Gray mist in her eyesAnd the night coming down:He feels a prayerFrom a far town. He goes the sea-ways,The land lights are dim;She and an altar lightKeep... more...

POEMS BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AUTUMN FIRES In the other gardens  And all up the vale,From the autumn bonfires  See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over  And all the summer flowers;The red fire blazes,  The grey smoke towers. Sing a song of seasons!  Something bright in all!Flowers in the summer,  Fires in the fall! THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE When children are playing alone on the green,In comes... more...

Such hosts of memories come tumbling in on me. More than fifteen years ago, on September 3, 1903, I met Carl Parker. He had just returned to college, two weeks late for the beginning of his Senior year. There was much concern among his friends, for he had gone on a two months' hunting-trip into the wilds of Idaho, and had planned to return in time for college. I met him his first afternoon in... more...