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CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. A successful scout, or spy, is like a great poet in one respect: he is born, not made—subject to the requisition of the military genius of the time. That I was not born to be hanged is a self-evident proposition. Whether I was a successful scout or not, the reader of these pages must determine. It was my good fortune to have first seen the light under the shadow of one of... more...

by: Various
CHARIVARIA. Bohemia has decided to have a Coalition Government. Several London morning papers are prepared to offer them one in good going condition, providing they pay cost of transit. According to a contemporary, "rabbits are worth less when they are skinned by the shopkeeper." So is the customer. "It is of greater advantage to know the Welsh language," says Professor Trow, "than... more...

THE only way to be happy with a husband is to learn to be happy without him most of the time.LOVE is just the shine on the jewel of matrimony; but, after all, the shine on a jewel is the whole thing.A MAN firmly believes that, if he can only keep his wife in the straight and narrow path, he can go out and zig-zag all over the downward one without falling from grace.A GIRL is never so surprised when a... more...

PRELUDE   Long, long ago when castles grim did frown,  When massy wall and gate did 'fend each town;  When mighty lords in armour bright were seen,  And stealthy outlaws lurked amid the green  And oft were hanged for poaching of the deer,  Or, gasping, died upon a hunting spear;  When barons bold did on their rights insist  And hanged or burned all rogues who dared resist;  When... more...

The Indians were formerly lords of the soil we now occupy, and obtained a subsistence principally by hunting and fishing. They generally lived in villages, containing from fifty to five hundred families. Their houses, called wigwams, were usually constructed of poles, one end being driven into the ground, and the other bent over so as to meet another fastened in like manner; both being joined together... more...

A Hoosier Fairy Tale. You think that folks in fine clothes are the only folks that ever see fairies, and that poor folks can't afford them. But in the days of the real old-fashioned "Green Jacket and White Owl's Feather" fairies, it was the poor boy carrying fagots to the cabin of his widowed mother who saw wonders of all sorts wrought by the little people; and it was the poor girl... more...

THE LIFE OF AKENSIDE. Mark Akenside was born at Newcastle-upon-Tyne on the 9th of November 1721. His family were Presbyterian Dissenters, and on the 30th of that month he was baptized in the meeting, then held in Hanover Square, by a Mr. Benjamin Bennet. His father, Mark, was a butcher in respectable circumstances—his mother's name was Mary Lumsden. There may seem something grotesque in finding... more...

CHAPTER I. The Dead City The city without life lay handsomely along a river in the early sunlight of a September morning. Death had seemingly not been long upon it, nor had it made any scar. No breach or rent or disorder or sign of violence could be seen. The long, shaded streets breathed the still airs of utter peace and quiet. From the half-circle around which the broad river bent its moody current,... more...

When I first indulged the inclination, which I had long entertained, of visiting the famous castle of Chinon, and the equally interesting abbey of Fontevraud—the palace and tomb of our English kings—and paused on my way in "the lovely vales of Vire," and gathered in romantic Brittany some of her pathetic legends, I thought I should have satisfied my longing to explore France; but I found... more...

CHAPTER I. Seeing “Gad’s Hill” as a child.—His domestic side and home-love.—His love of children.—His neatness and punctuality.—At the table, and as host.—The original of “Little Nell.”   If, in these pages, written in remembrance of my father, I should tell you my dear friends, nothing new of him, I can, at least, promise you that what I shall tell will be told faithfully, if... more...