CHAPTER I IN ACTION OVER THE ARGONNE "Will that starting signal ever come, Tom?" "Just hold your horses, Jack. The other squadron has gone out, and is already hard at it over the Boche line. Our turn next. Keep cool. And here's hoping we both pull through with our usual good luck." "Wow! See that big Hun plane, a Fokker, too, take the nose dive, will you? But he's overshot... more...

ONE KIND OF WIRELESS When, after school that afternoon, Alex Ward waved a good-by to his father, the Bixton station agent for the Middle Western, and set off up the track on the spring’s first fishing, he had little thought of exciting experiences ahead of him. Likewise, when two hours later a sudden heavy shower found him in the woods three miles from home, and with but three small fish, it was only... more...

Greece is certainly the most daring little kingdom! Far from being alarmed by the message sent her from the Powers, she has replied that it is impossible for her to withdraw her troops from Crete. She states that her object in sending them there was to restore peace, and as serious troubles still exist in the island, she cannot comply with the request of the Powers. In the reply, she further states... more...

PREFACE For a long time, in the hopefulness and confidence of youth, I dreamed of going to Palestine. But that dream was denied, for want of money and leisure. Then, for a long time, in the hardening strain of early manhood, I was afraid to go to Palestine, lest the journey should prove a disenchantment, and some of my religious beliefs be rudely shaken, perhaps destroyed. But that fear was removed by... more...

BLARNEY CASTLE. This Engraving, to use a cant phrase, is an exquisite "bit of Blarney;" but independent of the vulgar association, it has a multitude of attractions for every reader. Its interest will, however, be materially enhanced by the following admirable description from the graphic pen of T. Crofton Croker, Esq. Blarney, so famous in Irish song and story, is situated about four miles... more...

Chapter I: Concerning One's Letter Box Publish any sort of conviction related to these morose days through which we are living and letters will shower upon you like leaves in October. No matter what your conviction be, it will shake both yeas and nays loose from various minds where they were hanging ready to fall. Never was a time when so many brains rustled with hates and panaceas that would sail... more...

CHAPTER I. “There is something in this climate, after all. I suppose there are not many places where one could lie on the shore in December, and enjoy the air as much as I have done for the last two hours.” Harry Molyneux turned his face seaward again as he spoke, and drank in the soft breeze eagerly; he could scarcely help thanking it aloud, as it stole freshly over his frame, and played gently... more...

PICTURE.   Winter's wild birthnight! In the fretful East  The uneasy wind moans with its sense of cold,  And sends its sighs through gloomy mountain gorge,  Along the valley, up the whitening hill,  To tease the sighing spirits of the pines,  And waste in dismal woods their chilly life.  The sky is dark, and on the huddled leaves—  The restless, rustling leaves—sifts down its... more...

CHAPTER I. During the summer of 1840, the aspect of the political horizon in Affghanistān afforded but slight grounds for prognosticating the awful catastrophe which two short years after befel the British arms. Dost Mahommed had not yet given himself up, but was a fugitive, and detained by the King of Bokhara, while many of the principal Sirdars had already tendered their allegiance... more...

CHAPTER I I had a vexing dream one night, not long ago: it was about a fortnight after Christmas.  I dreamt I flew out of the window in my nightshirt.  I went up and up.  I was glad that I was going up.  “They have been noticing me,” I thought to myself.  “If anything, I have been a bit too good.  A little less virtue and I might have lived longer.  But one cannot have everything.”  The... more...