THE McGREGORS "Carl!" "Coming, Ma!" Mrs. McGregor waited a moment. "But you aren't coming," protested she fretfully. "You never seem to come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!" "Yes, Ma." "Yes, Ma! Yes, Ma!" the woman mimicked impatiently. "It's easy enough to shout Yes, Ma; but where are you—that's what I... more...

By the middle of the seventeenth century, almost a hundred thousand English men and women had settled in the New World. We sometimes forget that the largest colony across the Atlantic in those early years was not in Virginia, not in New England, but on the small eastern islands of the Caribbean, called the Caribbees. Early existence in the Caribbeanwas brutal, and at first these immigrants struggled... more...

CHAPTER I HOW PAUL MARTEL FELL OUT WITH SERCQ To give you a clear understanding of matters I must begin at the beginning and set things down in their proper order, though, as you will see, that was not by any means the way in which I myself came to learn them. For my mother and my grandfather were not given to overmuch talk at the best of times, and all my boyish questionings concerning my father left... more...

"Kate!" said Mrs. Lamb to her daughter, who was playing in the garden, in front of the house. "What do you want, mother?" replied the little girl, without even lifting her eyes from the ground, in which she was planting a marigold. I don't think any of my young readers regard this as a proper answer for a little girl to make to her mother; and I hope none of them ever speak to... more...

"Come Jane," said grandmamma one day, "'Tis time you learned to sew; At your age I could make a frock, And you should also know." But Jane cared little for such things; She liked to make a noise; She used to run about all day, And shout, and play with boys. So now she only tossed her head And ran with eager feet, And soon was racing up and down, And playing in the street. Once Jane... more...

IN WHICH WE MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF "STEEPLE BOB"DURING the summer months of 1900—what blazing hot months, to be sure!—people on lower Broadway were constantly coming upon other people with chins in the air, staring up and exclaiming: "Dear me, isn't it wonderful!" or "There's that fellow again; I'm sure he'll break his neck!" Then they would pass on and... more...

It is a remark of St. Philip Neri's latest biographer that, "Our Saint was profoundly convinced that there is in music and in song a mysterious and a mighty power to stir the heart with high and noble emotion, and an especial fitness to raise it above sense to the love of heavenly things." In like manner the Saint's illustrious son, Cardinal Newman, has spoken of "the emotion... more...

he game was stud. There were seven at the table, which makes for good poker. Outside of Nick, who banked the game, nobody looked familiar. They all had the beat look of compulsive gamblers, fogged over by their individual attempts at a poker face. They were a cagey-looking lot. Only one of them was within ten years of my age. "Just in case, gamblers," the young one said. I looked up from... more...

I INTRODUCES THE BOYS It was late in the fall of the second year of the civil war that I rejoined my company at Santa Fé, New Mexico, from detached service in the Army of the Potomac. The boom of the sunrise gun awoke me on the morning after my arrival, and I hastened to attend reveille roll-call. As I descended the steps of the officers' quarters the men of the four companies composing the... more...

As long as Marcella could remember, the old farm-house had lain in shadows, without and within. Behind it rose the great height of Ben Grief, with his gaunt face gashed here by glowering groups of conifers, there by burns that ran down to the River Nagar like tears down a wrinkled old face. Marcella had read in poetry books about burns that sang and laughing waters that clattered to the sea for all the... more...