AFTER A ROUGH PASSAGE, BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON ARE HERE SEEN LANDED AT OSTEND, SURROUNDED, AND A LITTLE BEWILDERED, BY THE NATIVES, WHO OVERWHELM THEM WITH ATTENTIONS—SEIZE THE LUGGAGE, THRUST CARDS INTO THEIR HANDS, DRAG THEM IN SEVERAL DIRECTIONS AT ONCE, ALL TALKING TOGETHER (WHICH PREVENTED THEIR DIRECTIONS BEING SO CLEAR AS THEY OTHERWISE WOULD HAVE BEEN)—AND, FINALLY, ALL EXPECTING MONEY!... more...

HEREas manye histories of olde & auncient antiquitie, and also al godly & Christiã writers most playnely consêt together, and agree in this, that dignitie, riches, kinred, worldly pompe, and renoume, doo neither make men better, ne yet happiar, contrarie too the blynde & fonde iudgement of the most part of menne: but by the power and strength of the mynde, that is, learnyng, wysedome,and... more...

NEW BUILDINGS, INNER TEMPLE. "The Temple," as our readers may be aware, is an immense range of buildings, stretching from Fleet-street to the River Thames, north and south; and from Lombard-street, Whitefriars, to Essex-street, in the Strand, east and west. It takes its name from having been the principal establishment, in England, of the Knights Templars; and here, in the thirteenth century... more...

CHAPTER I: A Look Back In the old legend of Rip Van Winkle with which the American writer Washington Irving has made us so familiar, the ne'er-do-weel Rip wanders off into the Kaatskill Mountains with his dog and gun in order to escape from his wife's scolding tongue. Here he meets the spectre crew of Captain Hudson, and, after partaking of their hospitality, falls into a deep sleep which... more...

CHRISTMAS REVIVED. It was six o'clock in the morning of last Thursday (Christmas morning), when Nathan Stoddard, a young saddler, strode through the vacant streets of one of our New England towns, hastening to begin his work. The town is an old-fashioned one, and although the observance of the ancient church festival is no longer frowned upon, as in years past, yet it has been little regarded,... more...

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. PARALLEL.Joe, the Fat Boy in Pickwick, startles the Old Lady; Oscar, the Fad Boy in Lippincott's, startles Mrs. Grundy. Oscar, the Fad Boy. "I want to make your flesh creep!"The Baron has read OSCAR WILDE'S Wildest and Oscarest work, called Dorian Gray, a weird sensational romance, complete in one number of Lippincott's Magazine. The Baron, recommends anybody... more...

CHAPTER I. It is at Nyoda's bidding that I am writing the story of our automobile trip last September. She declared it was really too good to keep to ourselves, and as I was official reporter of the Winnebagos anyway, it was no more nor less than my solemn duty. Sahwah says that the only thing which was lacking about our adventures was that we didn't have a ride in a patrol wagon, but then... more...

A MAN OF DESTINY I was picked up and thrown into the brigantine's long-boat with a head and stomach full of salt water, and a heart as light as spray with the joy of it all. A big, red-bearded man lifted my heels to drain me. "The mon's deid," said he. "Dead!" cried I, from the bottom-board. "No more dead than you!" I turned over so lustily that he dropped my feet, and... more...

Life had indeed become complicated, paradoxical. He, John Hodder, a clergyman, rector of St. John's by virtue of not having resigned, had entered a restaurant of ill repute, had ordered champagne for an abandoned woman, and had no sense of sin when he awoke the next morning! The devil, in the language of orthodox theology, had led him there. He had fallen under the influence of the tempter of his... more...

Chapter One. The first part of the Christmas holidays had gone with a roar. The Saxon family in conclave agreed that never before had they had so good a time. Invitations poured in; amusement after amusement filled up afternoon and evening; parents and friends alike seemed imbued with a wholly admirable desire to make the season one gay whirl of enjoyment, and then, suddenly, just after the beginning... more...