The Road Through the San Fernando Valley, toward the hills of Calabasas runs that old road, El Camino Real of the early Mission days. And now replicas of old Mission bells, each suspended in solitary dignity from a rusted iron rod, mark intervals along the dusty way, once a narrow trail worn by the patient feet of that gentle and great padre, Junípero Serra,—a trail from the San Gabriel Valley... more...

CHAPTER I. "He that has light within his own clear breast,May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day."MILTON. The farming plan succeeded beyond Fleda's hopes thanks not more to her wisdom than to the nice tact with which the wisdom was brought into play. The one was eked out with Seth Plumfield's; the other was all her own. Seth was indefatigably kind and faithful. After his... more...

Souvenirs. Land of the nopal and maguey—home of Moctezuma and Malinché!—I cannot wring thy memories from my heart! Years may roll on, hand wax weak, and heart grow old, but never till both are cold can I forget thee! I would not; for thee would I remember. Not for all the world would I bathe my soul in the waters of Lethe. Blessed be memory for thy sake! Bright land of Anahuac! my spirit mounts... more...

In this dreadful crisis, Walter pressed as hard as he could against the rocky crag, having but one hand at liberty to defend himself against the furious attack of the bird. It was quite impossible for him to get at his axe, and the force with which he was assaulted caused him nearly to let go his hold. He tried to seize the vulture's throat and strangle it; but the bird was too active, and made... more...

CHAPTER I. On the plains, midway between Cheyenne and the Black Hills, a train had halted for a noonday feed. Not a railway train, mind you, but a line of those white-covered vehicles drawn by strong-limbed mules, which are most properly styled "prairie schooners." There were four wagons of this type, and they had been drawn in a circle about a camp-fire, over which was roasting a savory haunch... more...

CHAPTER FIRST. Whoe'er's been at Paris must needs know the Gre've,The fatal retreat of the unfortunate brave,Where honour and justice most oddly contribute,To ease heroes' pains by an halter and gibbet. There death breaks the shackles which force had put on,And the hangman completes what the judge but began;There the squire of the poet, and knight of the post,Find their pains no... more...

FAREWELL "Come, Deputy of the Centre, come along! We shall have to mend our pace if we mean to sit down to dinner when every one else does, and that's a fact! Hurry up! Jump, Marquis! That's it! Well done! You are bounding over the furrows just like a stag!" These words were uttered by a sportsman seated much at his ease on the outskirts of the Foret de l'Isle-Adam; he had just... more...

Part IIAt the door of St. George's registry office, Charles Clare Winton strolled forward in the wake of the taxi-cab that was bearing his daughter away with "the fiddler fellow" she had married. His sense of decorum forbade his walking with Nurse Betty—the only other witness of the wedding. A stout woman in a highly emotional condition would have been an incongruous companion to his... more...

THEAFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD. THE TEARES OF AN AFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD SICKE FOR LOVE,OR THE COMPLAINT OF DAPHNIS FOR THELOVE OF GANIMEDE.Scarce had the morning starre hid from the lightHeavens crimson canopie with stars bespangled,But I began to rue th' unhappy sightOf that faire boy that had my hart intangled;Cursing the time, the place, the sense, the sin;I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.If it... more...

HORATIO, son of Edmund and Catherine Nelson, was born September 29, 1758, in the parsonage-house of Burnham Thorpe, a village in the county of Norfolk, of which his father was rector. His mother was a daughter of Dr. Suckling, prebendary of Westminster, whose grandmother was sister of Sir Robert Walpole, and this child was named after his godfather, the first Lord Walpole. Mrs. Nelson died in 1767,... more...