PAINTER OF SIENA If those who labour to become excellent in some art did not very often have the thread of life cut by death in their best years, I have no doubt that many intellects would arrive at that rank which is most desired both by them and by the world. But the short life of men and the bitterness of various accidents, which threaten them from all sides, snatch them from us sometimes... more...

INTRODUCTION In accordance with classic precedent, this anthology ought to have consisted of "1,001 Gems of German Thought," I have been content with half that number, not—heaven knows!—for any lack of material, but simply for lack of time and energy to make the ingathering. After all, enough is as good as a feast, and I think that the evidence as to the dominant characteristics of German... more...

CHARLEY'S MUSEUM. Charley Carter was a bright, active lad, of twelve years old, the son of a farmer, who lived a few miles distant from Philadelphia. He was a very great favorite of his uncle Brown, his mother's brother, who was a wealthy merchant in the city. He was also a favorite of another brother of his mother, who had been, for many years a sea captain, sailing to all parts of the... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a bright day in the early spring of 1869. All Paris seemed to have turned out to enjoy itself. The Tuileries, the Champs Elysees, the Bois de Boulogne, swarmed with idlers. A stranger might have wondered where Toil was at work, and in what nook Poverty lurked concealed. A millionaire from the London Exchange, as he looked round on the magasins, the equipages, the dresses of the women;... more...

LITTLE BLACKSAMBO   nce upon a time there was a little black boy, and his name was Little Black Sambo.       AndhismotherwascalledBlackMumbo.       nd his father was called Black Jumbo.     And Black Mumbo made him a beautiful little Red Coat, and a pair of beautiful little Blue Trousers. And Black Jumbo went to the Bazaar and bought him a beautiful Green Umbrella and a lovely little Pair of... more...

CHAPTER I AT VICTORIA STATION The allied forces, English and French, had been bent backward day by day, until it seemed as if Paris was fairly within the Germans' grasp. Bent indeed, but never broken, and with the turning of the tide the Allied line had rushed forward, and France breathed again. Two men, seated in a room of the United Service Club in London one gloomy afternoon in November, 1914,... more...

CHAPTER I A Great Change "There's no doubt about it, we really must economize somehow!" sighed Mrs. Woodward helplessly, with her housekeeping book in one hand, and her bank pass-book in the other, and an array of bills spread out on the table in front of her. "Children, do you hear what I say? The war will make a great difference to our income, and we can't—simply... more...

LOB LIE-BY-THE-FIRE INTRODUCTORY. Lob Lie-By-The-Fire—the Lubber-fiend, as Milton calls him—is a rough kind of Brownie or House Elf, supposed to haunt some north-country homesteads, where he does the work of the farm labourers, for no grander wages than "------to earn his cream bowl duly set." Not that he is insensible of the pleasures of rest, for "—When, in one night, ere glimpse of... more...

CHAPTER I THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER t was a beautiful summer morning when slowly I wheeled my way along the principal street of the village of Walford. A little valise was strapped in front of my bicycle; my coat, rolled into a small compass, was securely tied under the seat, and I was starting out to spend my vacation. I was the teacher of the village school, which useful institution had been closed... more...

VICTORY It was a crisp November night. The artificial brilliance of Broadway was rivalled by a glorious moonlit sky. The first autumn frost was in the air, and on the side-streets long rows of taxicabs were standing, their motors blanketed, their chauffeurs threshing their arms to rout the cold. A few well-bundled cabbies, perched upon old-style hansoms, were barking at the stream of hurrying... more...