ANDREW JACKSON Andrew Jackson was born in the Waxhaw Settlement, North or South Carolina, on the 15th of March, 1767. He was a son of Andrew Jackson, an Irishman, who emigrated to America in 1765 and died in 1767. The name of his mother was Elizabeth Hutchinson. There is little definite information about the schools that he attended. According to Parton, "He learned to read, to write, and cast... more...

SOME SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STORY-TELLER Concerning the fundamental points of method in telling a story, I have little to add to the principles which I have already stated as necessary, in my opinion, in the book of which this is, in a way, the continuation. But in the two years which have passed since that book was written, I have had the happiness of working on stories and the telling of them, among... more...

GENERAL INVITATION.Jenny consented; the day was named,The joyful news the Cock proclaimed.Together came the Rook and Lark,The one as Parson, t'other Clerk.THE WEDDING.The Goldfinch gave the bride away,Who promis'd always to obey.The feathery tenants of the airTowards the Feast each gave a share.THE DINNER.The jovial party din'd together,And fine and pleasant was the weather.The... more...

AT THE HOME OF HUGO CHEVET It was early autumn, for the clusters of grapes above me were already purple, and the forest leaves were tinged with red. And yet the air was soft, and the golden bars of sun flickered down on the work in my lap through the laced branches of the trellis. The work was but a pretense, for I had fled the house to escape the voice of Monsieur Cassion who was still urging my uncle... more...

Chapter I—Thirlwell Makes His Choice Dinner was nearly over at the big red hotel that stands high above the city of Quebec, and Thirlwell, sitting at one of the tables, abstractedly glanced about. The spacious room was filled with skilfully tempered light that glimmered on colored glasses and sparkled on silver; pillars and cornices were decorated with artistic taste. A murmur of careless talk rose... more...

t was just a hunch. Johnson knew that, but his hunches had often paid off in the past, and now he waited with a big man's patience. For five hours he sat in the wooden stands, under the rumpled canvas the concessionaires had put up to protect the tourists from Marlock's yellow sun. The sun was hot and soon Johnson's clothing was marked with large soiled patches of sweat. Now and then a... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ADVENTURES of HENRY HUDSON   HE long and narrow Island of Manhattan was a wild and beautiful spot in the year 1609. In this year a little ship sailed up the bay below the island, took the river to the west, and went on. In these days there were no tall houses with white walls glistening in the sunlight, no church-spires, no noisy hum of running trains, no smoke to blot out the blue sky.... more...

CHAPTER 1. Stranded on the Prairie. "By George, look behind us! I fancy we are going to have a storm." Four heads turned as if governed by one brain; four pairs of eyes, of varied color and character, swept the wind-blown wilderness of tender green, and gazed questioningly at the high-piled thunderheads above. A small boy, with an abundance of yellow curls and white collar, almost precipitated... more...

An Appeal All to whom wild Nature is one of the greatest glories of the Earth, all who know its higher significance for civilized man to-day, and all who consequently prize it as an heirloom for posterity, are asked to help in keeping the animal life of Labrador from being wantonly done to death. There is nothing to cause disagreement among the three main classes of people most interested in wild... more...

CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN. INTRODUCTION. Scene—A Library. ALDA. You will not listen to me? MEDON. I do, with all the deference which befits a gentleman when a lady holds forth on the virtues of her own sex.He is a parricide of his mother's name,And with an impious hand murders her fame,That wrongs the praise of women; that dares writeLibels on saints, or with foul ink requiteThe milk they lent... more...