A young and very beautiful girl with golden blond hair and smooth skin the color of creamed sweet potatoes floated in the middle of the windowless metal room into which Wayne Brighton drifted. The girl was not exactly naked, but her few filmy clothes concealed nothing. Wayne cleared his throat, his apprehension changing rapidly to confusion. "You are going to reduce me?" he asked. "The... more...

THE FRANCO-AMERICAN CORPS It was on a cool, starlit evening, early in September, 1916, that I first met Drew of Massachusetts, and actually began my adventures as a prospective member of the Escadrille Américaine. We had sailed from New York by the same boat, had made our applications for enlistment in the Foreign Legion on the same day, without being aware of each other's existence; and in... more...

HELL BENT Twenty thousand of the thirty thousand lumber-jacks and river-pigs of the Minnesota woods are hilariously in pursuit of their own ruin for lack of something better to do in town. They are not nice, enlightened men, of course; the debauch is the traditional diversion–the theme of all the brave tales to which the youngsters of the bunk-houses listen in the lantern-light and dwell upon after... more...

TALE 1. A new Arabian Night's Entertainment. At the foot of the great mountain Hirgonqúu was anciently situated the kingdom of Larbidel. Geographers, who are not apt to make such just comparisons, said, it resembled a football just going to be kicked away; and so it happened; for the mountain kicked the kingdom into the ocean, and it has never been heard of since. One day a young princess had... more...

HIERO, or "THE TYRANT" A Discourse on Despotic RuleIOnce upon a time Simonides the poet paid a visit to Hiero the "tyrant," (1) and when both obtained the leisure requisite, Simonides began this conversation: (1) Or, "came to the court of the despotic monarch Hiero." For the"dramatis personae" see Dr. Holden's Introduction to the "Hieron"of Xenophon. Would... more...

OPENING CHAPTER. A CHILD'S SUNDAY. At a quarter to one o'clock, on a wet Sunday afternoon, in November 1837, Samuel Snoxell, page to Mr. Zachary Thorpe, of Baregrove Square, London, left the area gate with three umbrellas under his arm, to meet his master and mistress at the church door, on the conclusion of morning service. Snoxell had been specially directed by the housemaid to distribute... more...

THE MOUSE After many long, brooding days of sunshine, when the clean-cut mountains gleamed brilliantly against the sky and the grama grass curled slowly on its stem, the rain wind rose up suddenly out of Papaguería and swooped down upon the desolate town of Bender, whirling a cloud of dust before it; and the inhabitants, man and horse, took to cover. New-born clouds, rushing out of the ruck of... more...

Some succeed while others fail. This is a recognized fact; yet history tells us that seven-tenths of our most successful men began life poor. As our title indicates, we shall endeavor to show "why some succeed while others fail." Knowing that everybody desires success, and recognizing the old adage, "Example is the best of teachers," we have selected representative characters from the... more...

THE OLD HOMESTEAD The late afternoon sun shone full upon a boy who was perched on the top of an old rail fence forming the dividing line between the farm that spread out before him and the one over which he had just passed. It was early March. The keen wind as it whirled past him, whipping the branches of the tree together and carrying away clouds of dried leaves from behind the fence rows, penetrated... more...

THE NOCTURNAL VISIT.* * * Whence is that knocking?How is't with me when every sound appals me?* * * I hear a knockingIn the south entry! Hark!—More knocking!—Shakespeare. Hurricane Hall is a large old family mansion, built of dark-red sandstone, in one of the loneliest and wildest of the mountain regions of Virginia. The estate is surrounded on three sides by a range of steep, gray rocks,... more...