A PROPER PROPORTION. (An Interview with Mr. H.G. WELLS). I found the Sage, as I had expected, in his study at Omniscience Lodge. There he sat in his new suit of Britlings, surrounded by novels and stories in MS. dealing with every aspect of human affairs, sixty of the more important being specifically devoted to the War and the various ways in which it might conceivably terminate. I modestly approached... more...

CHAPTER 1 "Until this moment I have never fully realised how great an ass a man can be. When I think that this morning I scurried through what might have been a decent breakfast, left my comfortable diggings, and was cooped up in a train for seven hours, that I am now driving in a pelting rain through, so far as I can see for the mist, what appears to be a howling wilderness, I ask myself if I am... more...

CHAPTER I. DOROTHY ARRIVES. "You may see her tonight," said Mrs. Sterling to her son Gilbert. "When does she arrive?" "At six-twenty this afternoon. They say, son, she is beautiful." "From what point of the compass does the lovely paragon come?" asked Sterling with a smile. "She has just graduated from some college in the North. Her father and mother went to be with... more...

Our fabulist warns "those who in quarrels interpose" of the fate which is probably in store for them; and, in venturing to place myself between so powerful a controversialist as Mr. Gladstone and the eminent divine whom he assaults with such vigour in the last number of this Review, I am fully aware that I run great danger of verifying Gay's prediction. Moreover, it is quite possible that... more...

BOOK FIRST. I.h! who can tell how hard it is to climbThe steep, where Fame’s proud temple shines afar!Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublimeHas felt the influence of malignant star,And waged with Fortune an eternal war!Checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy’s frown,And Poverty’s unconquerable bar,In life’s low vale remote has pined alone,Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown! II.And... more...

Whenthe long grey lines came flooding upon Paris in the plain,We stood and drank of the last free air we never could taste again:They had led us back from the lost battle, to halt we knew not whereAnd stilled us; and our gaping guns were dumb with our despair.The grey tribes flowed for ever from the infinite lifeless landsAnd a Norman to a Breton spoke, his chin upon his hands.“There was an end to... more...

INTRODUCTION. For three reasons, one purely personal (as you will soon see), I am pleased to play even a small part in the reprinting of D. Augustus Dickert's The History of Kershaw's Brigade ... an undertaking in my judgment long, long, overdue. First, it is a very rare and valuable book. Privately published by Dickert's friend and neighbor, Elbert H. Aull, owner-editor of the... more...

1. I meditate in my heart on that K.rish.na on whose left side is seated Râdhâ, on whose breast reclines Šrî (Lakshmî), and who enjoyed sport (with them) in V.rindâvana. 2. I, Sahajânanda.h Svâmî (afterwards called Svâmî-Nârâya.na), living at V.rittâlaya, write this Letter of instructions (or Book of directions) to all my followers scattered throughout various countries. 3. Let the two... more...

Jimmy watched the Natchez Belle draw near, a shining eagerness in his stare. He stood on the deck of the shantyboat, his toes sticking out of his socks, his heart knocking against his ribs. Straight down the river the big packet boat came, purpling the water with its shadow, its smokestacks belching soot. Jimmy had a wild talent for collecting things. He knew exactly how to infuriate the captains... more...

THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. AN ADAPTATION. BY ORPHEUS C. KERR CHAPTER XVIII A SUBTLE STRANGER. The latest transient guest at the Roach House—a hotel kept on the entomological plan in Bumsteadville—was a gentleman of such lurid aspect as made every beholder burn to know whom he could possibly be. His enormous head of curled red hair not only presented a central parting on top... more...