WHAT BOOKS DID OTLOH WRITE? Sir,—In Dr. Maitland's able vindication of the Dark Ages (p. 419. 1st ed.), he concludes his interesting extract from the scribe Otloh's account of himself by saying:—"One would like to know what books they were which Otlohnus thus multiplied; but this, perhaps, is now impossible." I have it accidentally in my power to identify two at least of the... more...

Jack Barrington, nominal owner of Tinandra Downs cattle station on the Gilbert River in the far north of North Queensland, was riding slowly over his run, when, as the fierce rays of a blazing sun, set in a sky of brass, smote upon his head and shoulders and his labouring stock-horse plodded wearily homewards over the spongy, sandy soil, the lines of Barcroft Boake came to his mind, and, after he had... more...

FROM SPA AND SHORE. Grogtown.—All available accommodation has been monopolised by Glasborough visitors, among whom this resort is becoming more alarmingly popular every year. Sixty charabancs arrived on Monday and the Riot Act was read several times before the passengers could be induced to desist from their badinage of the residents, most of whom have since retired behind the wire-entanglements at... more...

New Year’s Day. “I wish something would happen!” sighed Norah. “If it were something nice,” corrected Lettice. “Lots of things happen every day, but they are mostly disagreeable. Getting up, for instance, in the cold, dark mornings—and practising—and housework, and getting ready for stupid old classes—I don’t complain of having too little to do. I want to do less, and to be able to... more...

In which Certain Details regarding a Lost Opal are Set Forth. Sandy MacWhirter would have an open fire. He had been brought up on blazing logs and warm hearths, and could not be happy without them. In his own boyhood's home the fireplace was the shrine, and half the orchard and two big elms had been offered up on its altar. There was no chimney in No. 3 when he moved in—no place really to put... more...

The Voyageur Dere's somet'ing stirrin' ma blood tonight,On de night of de young new year,Wile de camp is warm an' de fire is bright,An' de bottle is close at han'—Out on de reever de nort' win' blow,Down on de valley is pile de snow,But w'at do we care so long we knowWe 're safe on de log cabane? Drink to de healt' of your wife an'... more...

CHAPTER I. "Let the boy go to Paris," exclaimed our guest, Roland Belloc. "I warrant he'll find a path that will lead him to fortune." "He is young," said my father doubtfully. "He will be killed," cried my mother, while I stood upright against the wall and looked at Roland gratefully. It was in 1650, in the days of the Regency, and all France was in an uproar. Our... more...

SIR, The Bible lately presented to the Royal Society by Count de Salis, being a version into a language as little attended to in this country, as it may appear curious to those who take pleasure in philological inquiries; I embrace this opportunity to communicate to you, and, with your approbation, to the Society, all that I have been able to collect concerning its history and present state. This... more...

"Sir,—Having once writt to you in my own Language, I continue to use the same Privilege. I am sorry that I am in no better a condition to acquit my self of my Promise to you. My Recovery has been so slow, that I am scarce yet got up: and I have been unable to hold any Correspondance with my Friends in Town. Mr. King promisd to send me the Papers I mention'd to you of Mr. Lock's; who, it... more...

CHAPTER I. A FRIGHTFUL ACCIDENT. Just at sunset, one bright spring day, the car that plies up and down the inclined plane leading from the foot of Main street up the hills to the Zoological Gardens, of Cincinnati, started to make the ascent with its load of precious human freight. The car was full of passengers, though not crowded, while among the occupants there were several young people, whose bright... more...