Showing: 18921-18930 results of 23918

A QUEER OLD PERSON There was a queer old person that lived in Farmer Green's garden. Nobody knew exactly how long he had made his home there because his neighbors seldom saw him. He might have been in the garden a whole summer before anybody set eyes on him. Those that were acquainted with him called him Grandfather Mole. And the reason why his friends didn't meet him oftener was because he... more...

Dicky Duck was a very wise young fellow. He swam about the pond alone long before his brothers left their mother, and such worms and bugs and things of that sort as he found made all the other young ducks quite green with envy. But one day Dicky Duck almost lost his life by thinking he was so wise, for he was swimming around the pond when he came to the woods where Mr. Fox was hiding back of some... more...

We had expected to stay in Boston only until we could find a house in Old Cambridge. This was not so simple a matter as it might seem; for the ancient town had not yet quickened its scholarly pace to the modern step. Indeed, in the spring of 1866 the impulse of expansion was not yet visibly felt anywhere; the enormous material growth that followed the civil war had not yet begun. In Cambridge the... more...

I. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH I CALL it an old town, but it is only relatively old. When one reflects on the countless centuries that have gone to the for-mation of this crust of earth on which we temporarily move, the most ancient cities on its surface seem merely things of the week before last. It was only the other day, then—that is to say, in the month of June, 1603—that one Martin Pring, in the ship... more...

CHAPTER I THE LONG TRAIL We are the Elk Patrol, 14th Colorado Troop, Boy Scouts of America. Our sign is [transcriber note: sign shown to the right] and our colors are dark green and white, like the pines and the snowy range. Our patrol call is the whistle of an elk, which is an "Oooooooooooo!" high up in the head, like a locomotive whistle. We took the Elk brand (that is the same as totem, you... more...

by: Various
TORU DUTT (1856-1877) n 1874 there appeared in the Bengal Magazine an essay upon Leconte de Lisle, which showed not only an unusual knowledge of French literature, but also decided literary qualities. The essayist was Toru Dutt, a Hindu girl of eighteen, daughter of Govin Chunder Dutt, for many years a justice of the peace at Calcutta. The family belonged to the high-caste cultivated Hindus, and... more...

by: Tom Leahy
The clod burst in a cloud of red sand and the little Martian sand dog ducked quickly into his burrow. Marilou threw another at the aperture in the ground and then ran over and with the inside of her foot she scraped sand into it until it was filled to the surface. She started to leave, but stopped. The little fellow might choke to death, she thought, it wasn't his fault she had to live on Mars.... more...

My attention was first called to the works of the poet Jasmin by the eulogistic articles which appeared in the Revue des Deux Mondes, by De Mazade, Nodier, Villemain, and other well-known reviewers. I afterwards read the articles by Sainte-Beuve, perhaps the finest critic of French literature, on the life and history of Jasmin, in his 'Portraits Contemporains' as well as his admirable article... more...

CHAPTER XIV THE "LUSITANIA"—AND AFTER The news of the Lusitania was received at the American Embassy at four o'clock on the afternoon of May 7, 1915. At that time preparations were under way for a dinner in honour of Colonel and Mrs. House; the first Lusitania announcement declared that only the ship itself had been destroyed and that all the passengers and members of the crew had been... more...

TAKING COMFORT. "REALLY, this is comfortable!" said I, glancing around the handsomely furnished parlour of my young friend Brainard, who had, a few weeks before, ventured upon matrimony, and was now making his first experiments in housekeeping. "Yes, it is comfortable," replied my friend. "The fact is, I go in for comforts." "I'm afraid George is a little... more...