ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. A GARDEN.Enter Castalio, Polydore, and Page.Cas.Polydore, our sportHas been to-day much better for the danger:When on the brink the foaming boar I met,And in his side thought to have lodg'd my spear,The desperate savage rush'd within my force,And bore me headlong with him down the rock.Pol.But then——Cas.Ay, then, my brother, my friend, Polydore,Like Perseus mounted... more...

CHAPTER ITHE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR MANY men swore that The Orphan was bad, and many swore profanely and with wonderful command of epithets because he was bad, but for obvious reasons that was as far as the majority went to show their displeasure. Those of the minority who had gone farther and who had shown their hatred by rash actions only proved their foolishness; for they had indeed gone far and would... more...

Chapter One. Aunt Janet’s Visit. “Up to the fifth landing, and then straight on. You canna miss the door.” For a moment the person thus addressed stood gazing up into the darkness of the narrow staircase, and then turned wearily to the steep ascent. No wonder she was weary; for at the dawn of that long August day, now closing so dimly over the smoky town, her feet had pressed the purple heather... more...

REPORTING OUR UNCLE ABE'S LATEST LITTLE TALE; OUR CORRESPONDENT'S HISTORICAL CHAUNT; THE BOSTON NOVEL OF "MR. SMITH;" AND A FUNERAL DISCOURSE BY THE DEVOUT CHAPLAIN OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE. Washington, D.C., Jan. 4th, 1863. The more I see of our Honest Abe, my boy,—the more closely I analyze the occasional acts by which he individualizes himself as a unit distinct from the decimals... more...

CHAPTER I. SPILLED OUT. Sylvie Argenter was driving about in her mother's little basket-phæton. There was a story about this little basket-phæton, a story, and a bit of domestic diplomacy. The story would branch away, back and forward; which I cannot, right here in this first page, let it do. It would tell—taking the little carriage for a text and key—ever so much about aims and ways and... more...

â–  When he felt the sudden sharp tingling on his skin which came from the alarm device under his wrist watch, Dr. Halder Leorm turned unhurriedly from the culture tray he was studying, walked past the laboratory technician to the radiation room, entered it and closed the door behind him. He slipped the instrument from his wrist, removed its back plate, and held it up to his eye. He was... more...

PROLOGUE The city is always gray. Even in March, the greenest month of all, when the Presidio, and the Mission Hills, and the islands in the bay are beautiful with spring, there's only such a little bit of green gets into the city! It lies in the lap of five hills, climbing upward toward their crests where the trees are all doubled and bent by the trade-wind. It seems to give its own color to the... more...

THE OTTERBEIN HYMNAL. 1 Gloria Patri. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, and to the Holy Ghost, As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, world without end. Amen. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. 3 Old Hundred. L.M. (1) Psalm 100.... more...

t was a great pity, Space Marshal Wilbur Hennings reflected, as he gazed through the one-way glass of the balcony door, that the local citizens had insisted upon decorating the square before their capitol with the hulk of the first spaceship ever to have landed on Pollux V. A hundred and fifty years probably seemed impressive to them, amid the explosive spread of Terran colonies and federations.... more...

A'tim the Outcast was half Wolf, half Huskie Dog. That meant ferocity and bloodthirst on the one side, and knowledge of Man's ways on the other. Also, that he was an Outcast; for neither side of the house of his ancestry would have aught of him. A'tim was bred in the far Northland, where the Cree Indians trail the white snow-waste with Train Dogs; and one time A'tim had pressed an... more...