IN THE DEPTHS OF OLD FRANCE "Drink, Monsieur Angelot," said the farmer. His wife had brought a bottle of the sparkling white wine of the country, and two tall old treasures of cut glass. The wine slipped out in a merry foam. Angelot lifted his glass with a smile and bow to the mistress. "The best wine in the country," he said as he set it down. The hard lines of her face, so dark, so... more...

CHAPTER I Toward four o'clock in the afternoon Fred Starratt remembered that he had been commissioned by his wife to bring home oyster cocktails for dinner. Of course, it went without saying that he was expected to attend to the cigars. That meant he must touch old Wetherbee for money. Five dollars would do the trick, but, while he was about it, he decided that he might as well ask for... more...

INTRODUCTION. Many admirable works on this interesting subject have appeared in several languages, but, to my mind, in a form too sternly technical, cold, if I may be allowed—the writers barely in touch with the anxious youth or man, who, as amateur, yearns to get at that knowledge of correct construction without which he scarce may hope to become a professional violin maker, some notable instances... more...

SAN SATIRO Consors paterni luminis,Lux ipse lucis et dies,Noctem canendo rumpimus;Assiste postulantibus. Aufer tenebras mentium;Fuga catervas dæmonum;Expelle somnolentiam,Ne pigritantes obruat. (Breviarium Romanum Third day of the week: at matins.) ra Mino had raised himself by his humility above his brethren, and still a young man, he governed the Monastery of Santa Fiora wisely and well. He was... more...

The seaplane cast its silhouette from aloft upon the blue Arabian Sea, left its white wake across the shallows, and taxied alongside the ancient stone jetty, clawing into the sandy bottom with its small fore and after anchors. Colonel Glinka stepped out upon the wing, carefully measured the distance to the jetty, and sprang for it, wetting himself up to the seat of his voluminous khaki shorts. This... more...

YOUNG GRANDOLPH'S BARTY. (Afrikander Version of the great Breitmann Ballad, penned, "more in sorrow than in anger," by a "Deutscher" resident in the distant regions where the Correspondent of the "Daily Graphic" is, like der Herr Breitmann himself, "drafellin' apout like eferydings.") Young GRANDOLPH hat a Barty— Vhere is dat Barty now? He fell'd in luf... more...

ADVERTISEMENT. WHEN I left America, I had no intention of giving Mr. Everett's book a formal answer: but having learned since my arrival in the Old World, that: the controversy in which I had engaged myself had attracted some attention, and had been reviewed by a distinguished member of a German university, my hopes of being serviceable to the cause of truth and philanthrophy are revived, and I... more...

AN OLD-TIME SCENE. OOK at the picture, and see if you can tell what has roused all those children up so early in the morning. There is Mary in her stocking-feet. There is Ann in her night-dress. There is Tom, bare armed and bare legged.Why have they all left their beds, and run into the play-room in such haste? And why is little Ned, the baby, sitting up in the bed, as though he wanted to come too? It... more...

INTRODUCTION At sea, about two o'clock in the morning, on a clear night, under a star-lit sky. Yves stood near me on the bridge, and we were talking of the country, so utterly unknown to us both, to which the chances of our destiny were now wafting us. As we were to cast anchor the following day, we enjoyed the state of expectation, and formed a thousand plans. "As for me," I said, "I... more...

With her white cotton canvas swelling gently out and then softly drooping flat against her cordage, the Shawnee, sperm whaler of New Bedford, with the dying breath of the south-east trade, was sailing lazily over a sea whose waters were as calm as those of a mountain lake. Twenty miles astern the lofty peaks of Tutuila, one of the islands of the Samoan group, stood out clearly in the dazzling sunshine,... more...