THERE was once an aged king who had an only son. One day he called the prince to him and said: “My dear son, you know that ripe fruit falls in order to make room for other fruit. This my old head is like ripe fruit and soon the sun will no longer shine upon it. Now before I die I should like to see you happily married. Get you a wife, my son.” “I would, my father, that I could please you in... more...

D'RI AND I I A poet may be a good companion, but, so far as I know, he is ever the worst of fathers. Even as grandfather he is too near, for one poet can lay a streak of poverty over three generations. Doubt not I know whereof I speak, dear reader, for my mother's father was a poet—a French poet, too, whose lines had crossed the Atlantic long before that summer of 1770 when he came to... more...

CHAPTER I. THE KINZER FARM, THE NEW SUIT, AND THE WEDDING. Between the village and the inlet, and half a mile from the great "bay," lay the Kinzer farm. Beyond the bay was a sandbar, and beyond that the Atlantic Ocean; for all this was on the southerly shore of Long Island. The Kinzer farm had lain right there—acre for acre, no more, no less—on the day when Hendrik... more...

FOREWORD In presenting a loyal and venerable ex-slave as an artless exponent of freedom, freedom of conduct as well as of speech, the author of this trivial volume is perhaps not composing an individual so truly as individualizing a composite, if the expression will pass. The grizzled brown dispenser of homely admonitions is a figure not unfamiliar to those who have "moved in plantation... more...

CHAPTER I A COLD NIGHT "Oh, how red your nose is!" cried little Mabel Blake, one day, as her brother Hal came running out of the school yard, where he had been playing with some other boys. Mabel was waiting for him to walk home with her as he had promised. "So's your's red, too, Mab!" Harry said. "It's as red—as red as some of the crabs we boiled at our... more...

A NEW GAME "Mother, what can we do now?" "Tell us something to play, please! We want to have some fun!" As Harry and Mabel Blake said this they walked slowly up the path toward the front porch, on which their mother was sitting one early Spring day. The two children did not look very happy. "What can we do?" asked Hal, as he was called more often than Harry. "There... more...

TO YOU Blue Wednesday The first Wednesday in every month was a Perfectly Awful Day—a day to be awaited with dread, endured with courage and forgotten with haste. Every floor must be spotless, every chair dustless, and every bed without a wrinkle. Ninety-seven squirming little orphans must be scrubbed and combed and buttoned into freshly starched ginghams; and all ninety-seven reminded of their... more...

CHAPTER I. Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and... more...

I. SIOUX CEREMONIES, SCALP DANCE, &c. The Sioux occupy a country from the Mississippi river to some point west of the Missouri, and from the Chippewa tribe on the north, to the Winnebago on the south; the whole extent being about nine hundred miles long by four hundred in breadth. Dahcotah is the proper name of this once powerful tribe of Indians. The term Sioux is not recognized, except among... more...

MARY WILDER TILESTON. January 1 They go from strength to strength.—PS. lxxxiv. 7. First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear.—MARK. iv. 28.   Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,  As the swift seasons roll!  Leave thy low-vaulted past!  Let each new temple, nobler than the last,  Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,  Till thou at length art... more...