PADDY THE BEAVER BEGINS WORKWork, work all the nightWhile the stars are shining bright;Work, work all the day;I have got no time to play.  HIS little rhyme Paddy the Beaver made up as he toiled at building the dam which was to make the pond he so much desired deep in the Green Forest. Of course it wasn't quite true, that about working all night and all day. Nobody could do that, you know, and... more...

CHAPTER I. A NEW DEPARTURE "I've thought of something amusing for the winter," I said as we drew into a half-circle around the glorious wood-fire in Uncle Alec's kitchen. It had been a day of wild November wind, closing down into a wet, eerie twilight. Outside, the wind was shrilling at the windows and around the eaves, and the rain was playing on the roof. The old willow at the gate... more...

THE PECULIAR HISTORY OF THE CHEWING-GUM MAN. WILLIE, an’ Wallie, an’ Huldy Ann,They went an’ built a big CHEWIN’-GUM MAN:It was none o’ your teenty little dots,With pinhole eyes an’ pencil-spots;But this was a terribul big one—well,’T was a’most as high as the Palace Hotel! It took ’em a year to chew the gum!! And Willie he done it all, ’cept someThat Huldy got her ma to chew,By... more...

CHAPTER ONE Valentine Corliss walked up Corliss Street the hottest afternoon of that hot August, a year ago, wearing a suit of white serge which attracted a little attention from those observers who were able to observe anything except the heat. The coat was shaped delicately; it outlined the wearer, and, fitting him as women's clothes fit women, suggested an effeminacy not an attribute of the... more...

PREFACE. Again it come to pass, in the fulness of time, that my companion, Josiah Allen, see me walk up and take my ink stand off of the manteltry piece, and carry it with a calm and majestick gait to the corner of the settin' room table devoted by me to literary pursuits. And he sez to me: "What are you goin' to tackle now, Samantha?" And sez I, with quite a good deal of dignity,... more...

Peter “No, Antone, I have told thee many times, no, thou shalt not sell it until I am gone.” “But I need money; what good is that old fiddle to thee? The very crows laugh at thee when thou art trying to play. Thy hand trembles so thou canst scarce hold the bow. Thou shalt go with me to the Blue to cut wood to-morrow. See to it thou art up early.” “What, on the Sabbath, Antone, when it is so... more...

CHAPTER I. A JOURNEY TO THE WOODS.   'Tis well for us poor denizens of earth  That God conceals the future from our gaze;  Or Hope, the blessed watcher on Life's tower,  Would fold her wings, and on the dreary waste  Close the bright eye that through the murky clouds  Of blank Despair still sees the glorious sun. It was a bright, frosty morning when I bade adieu to the farm, the... more...

The Secret Significance of Journalism For the majority of people the earth is a dull planet. It is only a Stevenson who can say: "I never remember being bored;" and one may fairly doubt whether even Stevenson uttered truth when he made that extraordinary statement. None of us escapes boredom entirely: some of us, indeed, are bored during the greater part of our lives. The fact is unpalatable,... more...

I purpose this evening to call the attention of the Club to the state of anti-slavery opinions in this country just prior to the year 1800. In this examination I shall make use of a very rare pamphlet in the library of General Washington, which seems to have escaped the notice of writers on this subject; and shall preface my remarks on the main topic of discussion with a brief description of the... more...

CHAPTER I. CHARLESTON, SEPTEMBER 27th, 1869.—It is high tide, and three o'clock in the afternoon when we leave the Battery-quay; the ebb carries us off shore, and as Captain Huntly has hoisted both main and top sails, the northerly breeze drives the "Chancellor" briskly across the bay. Fort Sumter ere long is doubled, the sweeping batteries of the mainland on our left are soon passed,... more...