A Voice in the Wilderness I"La parlate d'amor,O cari fior,Recate i miei sospiri,Narrate i miei matiri,Ditele o cari fior——" Miss Bouverie ceased on the high note, as abruptly as string that snaps beneath the bow, and revolved with the music-stool, to catch but her echoes in the empty room. None had entered behind her back; there was neither sound nor shadow in the deep veranda through... more...

CHAPTER I Of all the illustrious families who have shone like gems upon the earth's surface, none have been more distinguished in their way than the Lazybones family; and were I so disposed I might recount their virtues and trace their talents from a long-forgotten period. But interesting as the study might prove, it would be a difficult task, and the attention I crave for Prince Leo would be... more...

To this day it is hard to understand how any eyes could have found them, they were so perfectly hidden. I was following a little brook, which led me by its singing to a deep dingle in the very heart of the big woods. A great fallen tree lay across my path and made a bridge over the stream. Now, bridges are for crossing; that is plain to even the least of the wood folk; so I sat down on the mossy trunk... more...

You might say the trouble started at the Ivy, which is a moving picture house in Cave Junction built like a big quonset. It's the only show in these parts, and most of us old-timers up here in the timber country of southwest Oregon have got into the habit of going to see a picture on Saturday nights before we head for a tavern. But I don't think old Doc Yoris, who was there with Lew and Rusty... more...

CHAPTER ICONCERNING THE "PRETTY LADY"She was such a Pretty Lady, and gentle withal; so quiet and eminently ladylike in her behavior, and yet dignified and haughtily reserved as a duchess. Still it is better, under certain circumstances, to be a cat than to be a duchess. And no duchess of the realm ever had more faithful retainers or half so abject subjects. Do not tell me that cats never love... more...

TRISTAN AND ISOLDA. ACT I. [A pavilion erected on the deck of a ship, richly hung with tapestry, quite closed in at back at first. A narrow hatchway at one side leads below into the cabin.] SCENE I. ISOLDA on a couch, her face buried in the cushions.— BRANGÆNA holding open a curtain, looks over the side of the vessel. THE VOICE OF A YOUNG SAILOR (from above as if at the mast-head).   ISOLDA... more...

Part First "Yea, many there be that have run out of their wits for women, and become servants for their sakes. Many also have perished, have erred, and sinned, for women… O ye men, how can it be but women should be strong, seeing they do thus?"—Esdras.   I  The schoolmaster was leaving the village, and everybody seemed sorry. The miller at Cresscombe lent him the small white tilted cart... more...

In which the reader is introduced to several of the dramatis personæ. On the evening of the 25th of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine, the ship Gentile, of Boston, lay at anchor in the harbor of Valetta. It is quite proper, gentle reader, that, as it is with this ship and her crew that you will chiefly have to do in the following yarn, they should be severally... more...

THE VISITOR'S SHADOW. Randal Bellamy's country house was a place of pleasant breakfasts. From the dining room the outlook was delightful; grass, flowers and sunshine, with the host's easy charm, made it almost as easy for Theophilus Caldegard to drink his tea fresh, as for his daughter Amaryllis not to keep her host, Sir Randal, waiting for his coffee. This morning, while she waited for... more...

VENICE PRESERVED. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. A STREET IN VENICE.Enter Priuli and Jaffier.Pri.No more! I'll hear no more! Be gone and leave me.Jaf.Not hear me! By my suffering, but you shall!My lord, my lord! I'm not that abject wretchYou think me. Patience! where's the distance throwsMe back so far, but I may boldly speakIn right, though proud oppression will not hear me?Pri.Have you not... more...