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                                 I THOSE RUSSIAN VIOLETS There had been a brilliant reception at the house of Mrs. Adrian Colburn in honor of her guest—a most attractive young woman—from the East. The hours were brief, from five to seven. I had gone late and left early, but while there had made an engagement with Miss Caddington for the large ball to be given that night by the Boltons. Miss Caddington was a debutante. She had been...
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                by: 
                                Stephen Marlowe                                
            
        
                                 dam Slade crushed the guard's skull with a two foot length of iron pipe. No one ever knew where Slade got the iron pipe, but it did not seem so important. The guard was dead. That was important. And Slade was on the loose. With a hostage. That was even more important. The hostage's name was Marcia Lawrence. She was twenty-two years old and pretty and scared half out of her wits. She was,...
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                by: 
                                Tom Leahy                                
            
        
                                 The little man said, "Why, Mr. Bartle, come in. This is indeed a pleasure." His pinched face was lighted with an enthusiastic smile. "You know my name, so I suppose you know the Bulletin sent me for a personality interview," the tall man who stood in the doorway said in a monotone as if it were a statement he had made a thousand times—which he had. "Oh, certainly, Mr. Bartle. I...
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                                 CHAPTER I. The Bad Boy and His Pa Go West—Pa Plans to Be a Dead Ringer forBuffalo Bill—They Visit an Indian Reservation and Pa Has anEncounter with a Grizzly Bear. Well, I never saw such a change in a man as there has been in pa, since the circus managers gave him a commission to go out west and hire an entire outfit for a wild west show, regardless of cost, to be a part of our show next year. He...
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                                 CHAPTER I As the tubby little China Coast steamer marched up Manila Bay, Trask stood under the bridge on the skimpy "promenade deck" and waited impatiently for the doctor's boat to come alongside. He was the only white passenger among a motley lot of Chinese merchants and half-castes of varied hues, and he was glad the passage was at an end. He had made the trip with a Finnish skipper,...
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                by: 
                                Gustave Dore                                
            
        
                                 Reader,—I don't know what kind of a preface I must write to find thee courteous, an epithet too often bestowed without a cause. The author of this work has been as sparing of what we call good nature, as most readers are nowadays. So I am afraid his translator and commentator is not to expect much more than has been showed them. What's worse, there are but two sorts of taking prefaces, as...
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                by: 
                                Ouida                                
            
        
                                 It is an August morning. It is an old English manor-house. There is a breakfast-room hung with old gilded leather of the times of the Stuarts; it has oak furniture of the same period; it has leaded lattices with stained glass in some of their frames, and the motto of the house in old French, "J'ay bon vouloir," emblazoned there with the crest of a heron resting in a crown. Thence, windows...
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                                 CONSTITUTION Article I Name. This Society shall be known as the Northern Nut Growers Association, Incorporated. Article II Object. Its object shall be the promotion of interest in nut-bearing plants, their products and their culture. Article III Membership. Membership in this society shall be open to all persons who desire to further nut culture, without reference to place of residence or nationality,...
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                by: 
                                D. Downing                                
            
        
                                 Preface. On August 10, 1845, Marryat wrote to Mrs S., a lady for whom, to the time of his death, he retained the highest sentiments of friendship and esteem:— “I really wish you would write your confessions, I will publish them. I have a beautiful opening in some memoranda I have made of the early life of a Frenchwoman, that is, up to the age of seventeen, when she is cast adrift upon the world,...
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                by: 
                                Bradford Torrey                                
            
        
                                 IN THE FLAT-WOODS. In approaching Jacksonville by rail, the traveler rides hour after hour through seemingly endless pine barrens, otherwise known as low pine-woods and flat-woods, till he wearies of the sight. It would be hard, he thinks, to imagine a region more unwholesome looking and uninteresting, more poverty-stricken and God-forsaken, in its entire aspect. Surely, men who would risk life in...
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