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CHAPTER I THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR A great barking of dogs broke the silence of the sleepy summer afternoon. Elinor Pomeroy laid down her knitting and slowly walked around the house. The barking of the three big dogs had been on a joyous tone. A young man was racing up the long front drive, the dogs leaping and bounding around him. "Three rousing cheers, old dear," he cried. "Three cheers! I...
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by:
Franz Edelsheim
INTRODUCTION Within recent years we have had a closer view of operations over the sea in connection with wars on land. The war between Japan and China, between America and Spain, between England and the Transvaal, and finally the Chinese Expedition, have largely demonstrated the methods of transporting troops over the sea. Whilst Moltke has shown the insignificance of the land forces for such...
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by:
James Stephens
THREE HEAVY HUSBANDS I He had a high nose. He looked at one over the collar, so to speak. His regard was very assured, and his speech was that short bundle of monosyllables which the subaltern throws at the orderly. He had never been questioned, and, the precedent being absent, he had never questioned himself. Why should he? We live by question and answer, but we do not know the reply to anything until...
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by:
Kate Sanborn
A Truthful Woman in Southern California HINTS FOR THE JOURNEY. The typical Forty-niner, in alluring dreams, grips the Golden Fleece. The fin-de-siècle Argonaut, in Pullman train, flees the Cold and Grip. En Sol y la Sombra—shade as well as sun. Yes, as California is. I resolve neither to soar into romance nor drop into poetry (as even Chicago drummers do here), nor to idealize nor quote too many...
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Burt L. Standish
CHAPTER IAN UNEXPECTED OFFER Lefty Locke gave the man a look of surprise. The soft, bright moonlight was shining full on Weegman’s face, and he was chuckling. He was always chuckling or laughing outright, and Locke had grown tired of it. It was monotonous. “What do you mean?” the pitcher asked. “Tinware for Kennedy! I don’t believe I get you.” Weegman snapped his fingers; another little...
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Captain Philo's sail-loft was a pleasant place to sit in, and it was much frequented. At one end was a wide, sliding door, that opened on the water, and through it you saw the little harbor and the low, glistening sand-bar at its entrance, and whitecaps in the sea beyond, and shining sails. At the other end another wide door led, by a gently descending cleated platform, to the ground. It was a...
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by:
Katharine Tynan
WISTARIA TERRACE The house where Mary Gray was born and grew towards womanhood was one of a squat line of mean little houses that hid themselves behind a great church. The roadway in front of the houses led only to the back entrance of the church. Over against the windows was the playground of the church schools, surrounded by a high wall that shut away field and sky from the front rooms of Wistaria...
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I MOTHER CAREY HERSELF "By and by there came along a flock of petrels, who are Mother Carey's own chickens…. They flitted along like a flock of swallows, hopping and skipping from wave to wave, lifting their little feet behind them so daintily that Tom fell in love with them at once." Nancy stopped reading and laid down the copy of "Water Babies" on the sitting-room table....
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by:
Jules Claretie
PART FIRST I The third act of L'Africaine had just come to a close. The minister, on leaving the manager's box, said smilingly, like a man glad to be rid of the cares of State: "Let us go to the greenroom, Granet, shall we?" "Let us go to the greenroom, as your Excellency proposes!" They were obliged to cross the immense stage where the stage carpenters were busy with the...
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Chapter One. True Blue—A British Seaman of the Old School. The old Terrible, 74, was ploughing her way across the waters of the Atlantic, now rolling and leaping, dark and angry, with white-crested seas which dashed against her bows and flew in masses of foam over her decks. She was under her three topsails, closely reefed; but even thus her tall masts bent, and twisted, and writhed, as if striving...
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