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THE GREAT TORNADO. The Summer of 1877 has been remarkable in some localities for the severity of its storms. These, in several instances, have partaken of the character of tornadoes. Mt. Carmel, in Illinois, was nearly destroyed about the 20th of June last; Pensaukee, in Wisconsin, was nearly ruined on the 8th of July, and Pittston, in Massachusetts, suffered terribly from a tornado on the same day.... more...

[p5]INTRODUCTION. The Author of the book in hand, having passed through the various scenes through which he would accompany his readers, was prompted to make this offering to the craft and the public in order to relieve his mind of the thoughts had upon the subject of making shoes, as well as to contribute something of a literary character which, in the broad range of possibilities, may become useful... more...

THE INVITATION "Oh, push it harder, much harder, so I can go away up to the tree tops," cried Jerry. "Don't you just love to fly through the air this way?" Mary Lee gave the swing one more push. "There!" she exclaimed, "that's the best I can do, Geraldine White. I'm hot all over now," and she dropped down on the soft grass at the foot of a big tree.... more...

I.—GENERAL. A most distinctive class of ancient Irish literature, and probably the class that is least popularly familiar, is the hagiographical.  It is, the present writer ventures to submit, as valuable as it is distinctive and as well worthy of study as it is neglected.  While annals, tales and poetry have found editors the Lives of Irish Saints have remained largely a mine unworked.  Into the... more...

CHAPTER I THE LITTLE CARRS I was sitting in the meadows one day, not long ago, at a place where there was a small brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very blue, and white clouds, like great swans, went floating over it to and fro. Just opposite me was a clump of green rushes, with dark velvety spikes, and among them one single tall, red cardinal flower, which was bending over the brook as if to see... more...

I The Higher Levels The Real and the Ideal The Bread of Life Life's Unvarying Values The ideal is the mold in which the real is cast. Half of success is in seeing the significance of little things. He finds no weal who flees all woe. You do not make life sacred by looking sad. Sympathy is a key that fits the lock of any heart. Soul health will not come by taking religion as a dose. Many a cloud... more...

Pariah The air of the city's cheapest flophouse was thick with the smells of harsh antiseptic and unwashed bodies. The early Christmas snowstorm had driven in every bum who could steal or beg the price of admission, and the long rows of cots were filled with fully clothed figures. Those who could afford the extra dime were huddled under thin, grimy blankets. The pariah who had been Dr. Daniel... more...

CHAPTER I: THE THEATRE OF WAR The Ghilzaie chief wrote answer: "Our paths are narrow andsteep.The sun burns fierce in the valleys, and the snow-fed streams rundeep;. . . . . . . . . . So a stranger needs safe escort, and the oath of a valiant friend." "The Amir's Message," SIR A. LYALL. All along the north and north-west frontiers of India lie the Himalayas, the greatest... more...

PREFACE. In no department of Pathology has advance been so fitful and interrupted as in that dealing with blood changes in various forms of disease, though none now offers a field that promises such an abundant return for an equal expenditure of time and labour. Observations of great importance were early made by Wharton Jones, Waller, and Hughes Bennett in this country, and by Virchow and Max Schultze... more...