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ACT I. SCENE I. [1st Cut.] [2nd Grooves.] A Lane near a Village. Afternoon. Enter ARTHUR WALTON and WILLIAM, R.S.E. Arthur. Give me your arm, my feet tread heavily;The sameness of this scene doth pierce my heartWith thronging recollections of the past.There is nought chang'd—and what a world of care,Of sorrow, passion, pleasure have I known,Since but a natural part of this was I,Whose voice is... more...

HOW THE LAW GOT INTO THE CHAPARRAL "You have heard about the Texas Rangers?" said the Deacon to me one night in the San Antonio Club. "Yes? Well, come up to my rooms, and I will introduce you to one of the old originals—dates 'way back in the 'thirties'—there aren't many of them left now—and if we can get him to talk, he will tell you stories that will make your... more...

CHAPTER I FOLLOWING A CROOKED TRAIL Across Dry Valley a dust cloud had been moving for hours. It rolled into Saguache at the brisk heels of a bunch of horses just about the time the town was settling itself to supper. At the intersection of Main and La Junta streets the cloud was churned to a greater volume and density. From out of the heart of it cantered a rider, who swung his pony as on a half... more...

by: Alva Agee
INTRODUCTION —This book is not a technical treatise and is designed only to point out the plain, every-day facts in the natural scheme of making and keeping soils productive. It is concerned with the crops, methods, and fertilizers that favor the soil. The viewpoint, all the time, is that of the practical man who wants cash compensation for the intelligent care he gives to his land. The farming that... more...

by: Anonymous
CHAPTER I DEFINITIONS Arena.—The space included by the boundaries of the croquet ground, within which a ball driven out of it is entitled to be placed. Blow.—The stroke of the mallet. A blow opposed to a push. Booby.—A ball that fails to run the first bridge. Bridged Ball.—A ball that has run the first bridge. Central Bridges.—Those in a line between the stakes. Chiefs.—The leaders of the... more...

CHAPTER I. Once upon a time, the Queen of Fairyland, finding her own subjects far too well-behaved to be amusing, took a sudden longing to have a mortal or two at her Court. So, after looking about her for some time, she fixed upon two to bring to Fairyland. But how were they to be brought? "Please your majesty," said at last the daughter of the prime-minister,"I will bring the girl."... more...

PREFACE The candlelight sweeps softly through the room,Filling dim surfaces with golden laughter,Touching with mystery each high hung rafter,Cutting a path of promise through the gloom. Slim little elves dance gently on each taper,Wistful, small ghosts steal out of shroudedcorners—And, like a line of vague enchanted mourners,Great shadows sway like wind-blown sheets of paper. Gently as fingers drawn... more...

CROSSROADS OF DESTINY I still have the dollar bill. It's in my box at the bank, and I think that's where it will stay. I simply won't destroy it, but I can think of nobody to whom I'd be willing to show it—certainly nobody at the college, my History Department colleagues least of all. Merely to tell the story would brand me irredeemably as a crackpot, but crackpots are tolerated,... more...


Crowded Out. I am nobody. I am living in a London lodging-house. My room is up three pair of stairs. I have come to London to sell or to part with in some manner an opera, a comedy, a volume of verse, songs, sketches, stories. I compose as well as write. I am ambitious. For the sake of another, one other, I am ambitious. For myself it does not matter. If nobody will discover me I must discover myself.... more...