Out of the Ashes Old Troy reaped rue in the womb of yearsFor stolen Helen's sake;Till tenfold retribution rearsIts wreck on embers slaked with tearsThat mended no heart-ache.The wail of the women sold as slavesLest Troy breed sons againDreed o'er a desert of nameless graves,The heaps and the hills that are Trojan gravesDeep-runneled by the rain. But Troy lives on. Though Helen's rapeAnd... more...

Chapter I. One pleasant summer morning Alphonzo was amusing himself by swinging on a gate in front of his mother’s house. His cousin Malleville, who was then about eight years old, was sitting upon a stone outside of the gate, by the roadside, in a sort of corner that was formed between the wall and a great tree which was growing there. Malleville was employed in telling her kitten a story. The... more...

Gentleman of the Bar: When the sad event occurred which has drawn us together this morning, you met in your accustomed hall, and expressed the feelings which such an event might well inspire. You then adjourned to assist in performing the last solemn rites over the bier of your departed friend. Clad in mourning, you attended his remains from his residence to the steamer, and, embarking with them,... more...

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. "The strange sea-creatures which made their appearance." Two gentlemen of artistic and literary attainments, having studied the romances of Victor Hugo for the sake of being inspired by that Grand Old Master's style, determined to essay a "thriller" of most tragic type. These two single authors, Messrs. Wyatt and Ross, being rolled into one, wanted, like the... more...

CHAPTER 1. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF QUEBEC. Quebec, founded by Samuel de Champlain, in 1608, has certainly much to recommend her, by her monuments, her historical memories and her scenery, to the traveller—the scholar—the historian. The wintering of the venturesome Jacques Cartier on the banks of the St. Charles in 1535-6, by its remoteness, is an incident of interest, not only to Canadians, but also... more...

The beetle woke from a dreamless sleep, yawned, stretched cramped limbs and smiled to himself. In the west the sunset's last glow faded. Stars sprang out in the clear desert sky, dimmed only by the white moon that rose full and brilliant above the eastern horizon. Methodically, suppressing impatience, he went through every evening's ritual of waking. He checked his instruments, scanned the... more...

CHRISTMAS, 1917 A key no thief can steal, no time can rust; A faery door, adventurous and golden; A palace, perfect to our eyes—Ah must Our eyes be holden? Has the past died before this present sin? Has this most cruel age already stonèd To martyrdom that magic Day, within Those halls, enthronèd? No. Through the dancing of the young spring rain, Through the faint summer, and the autumn’s burning,... more...

CHAPTER I CAMPING IN THE BREAKER "And so I says to myself, says I, give me a good husky band of BoyScouts! They'll do the job if it can be done!" Case Canfield, caretaker, sat back in a patched chair in the dusky, unoccupied office of the Labyrinth mine and addressed himself to four lads of seventeen who were clad in the khaki uniform of the Boy Scouts of America. Those of our readers who... more...

Chapter I A Chance for a Position "Where are you going, Jack?" "To the shops of John Fowler & Company." "To look for a job?" "Yes." "Then you are in luck, for I heard this morning that they want another striker in the lower shop at once." "Then I'll <i>strike</i> for the opening at once, and my name is not JackNorth if I don't land... more...

NOTES. THE OLDENBURG HORN. The highly interesting collection of pictures at Combe Abbey, the seat of the Earl of Craven, in Warwickshire, was, for the most part, bequeathed by Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, the daughter of James I., to her faithful attendant, William, Earl of Craven. The collection has remained, entire and undisturbed, up to the present time. Near the upper end of the long gallery is a... more...