CHAPTER I. PERILS OF THE MOUNTAIN TRAIL. "How is the cripple crowd coming on these days? Hello! Step Hen, any more snake bites? Hope you're not limping with that other leg, now?" "I should say not, Thad. But I'm always going to believe you did a lot to keep the poison from getting into my system, when you sucked that wound." "And how about your game limb, Giraffe—was it... more...

Judgment day was coming to Tanglefoot Cove—somewhat in advance of the expectation of the rest of the world. Immediate doom impended. A certain noted guerilla, commanding a reckless troop, had declared a stern intention of raiding this secluded nook among the Great Smoky Mountains, and its denizens could but tremble at the menace. Few and feeble folk were they. The volunteering spirit rife in the... more...

THE REWARDS OF ETIQUETTE Society is a game which all men play. "Etiquette" is the name given the rules of the game. If you play it well, you win. If you play it ill, you lose. The prize is a certain sort of happiness without which no human being is ever quite satisfied. Because the demand for social happiness is thus fundamental in human nature, the game has to be played quite seriously. If... more...

INTRODUCTION. The Great Pope, the thirteen hundredth anniversary of whose death is commemorated on March the 12th, 1904, was born at Rome, probably about the year 540. His father, Gordianus, was a wealthy man of senatorial rank; his mother, Silvia, was renowned for her virtues. He received from his parents an excellent liberal and religious education. He further applied himself to the study of law,... more...

It was the end.  Subienkow had travelled a long trail of bitterness and horror, homing like a dove for the capitals of Europe, and here, farther away than ever, in Russian America, the trail ceased.  He sat in the snow, arms tied behind him, waiting the torture.  He stared curiously before him at a huge Cossack, prone in the snow, moaning in his pain.  The men had finished handling the giant and... more...

RED HORIZON The Passing of the Regiment I wish the sea were not so wideThat parts me from my love;I wish the things men do belowWere known to God above. I wish that I were back againIn the glens of Donegal;They'll call me coward if I return,But a hero if I fall. "Is it better to be a living coward,Or thrice a hero dead?""It's better to go to sleep, my lad,"The Colour Sergeant... more...

WILLIAM PENN'S TEXT The Algonquin chiefs are gathered in solemn conclave. They make a wild and striking and picturesque group. They are assembled under the wide-spreading branches of a giant elm, not far from the banks of the Delaware. It is easy to see that something altogether unusual is afoot. Ranging themselves in the form of a crescent, these men of scarred limbs and fierce visage fasten... more...

PART SECOND SO RUNS THE WORLD ZOLA. I have a great respect for every accomplished work. Every time I put on the end of any of my works finis, I feel satisfied; not because the work is done, not on account of future success, but on account of an accomplished deed. Every book is a deed—bad or good, but at any rate accomplished—and a series of them, written with a special aim, is an accomplished... more...

Introduction What ages ago it seems, that "Great War"! And what enthusiasts we were! What visionaries, to imagine that in such an hour of emergency a man might discover himself to be fitted for some work of national utility without that preliminary wire-pulling which was essential in humdrum times of peace! How we lingered in long queues, and stamped up and down, and sat about crowded, stuffy... more...

Freddy the Fish glanced at the folded newspaper beside him on the bench. A little one-column headline caught his eye: MYSTERIOUS SIGNALSFROM OUTER SPACE "Probably from Cygnus," he said. Freddy mashed a peanut, popped the meat into his mouth, and tossed the shell to the curb in front of his bench. He munched and idly watched two sparrows arguing over the discarded delicacy; the victor flitted to... more...