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by:
J. B. Salmond
SANDY SWAPS HIS POWNEY. He's a queer cratur, my man Sandy! He's made, mind an' body o' him, on an original plan a'thegither. He says an' does a' mortal thing on a system o' his ain; Gairner Winton often says that if Sandy had been in the market-gardenin' line, he wudda grown his cabbage wi' the stocks aneth the ground, juist to lat them get the fresh...
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INTRODUCTION. This book is the outcome of many years of study. With the exception of a few quotations, none of the material has ever before appeared in any book. The writer has been indebted for years past to many of the physicians mentioned in the following pages for copies of pamphlets and magazines, and for newspaper articles, bearing upon the medical study of alcohol. Indeed, had it not been for...
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by:
Randall Parrish
CHAPTER I There were nine altogether in the party registering. This number included the manager, who, both on and off the stage, quite successfully impersonated the villain—a rather heavy-jawed, middle-aged fellow, of foreign appearance, with coarse, gruff voice; three representatives of the gentler sex; a child of eight, exact species unknown, wrapped up like a mummy; and four males. Beyond doubt...
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by:
Karl Anderson
THE VOICE IN THE FOG Out of the unromantic night, out of the somber blurring January fog, came a voice lifted in song, a soprano, rich, full and round, young, yet matured, sweet and mysterious as a night-bird's, haunting and elusive as the murmur of the sea in a shell: a lilt from La Fille de Madame Angot, a light opera long since forgotten in New York. Hillard, genuinely astonished, lowered his...
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by:
Mary Johnston
CHAPTER I Said Mother Binning: "Whiles I spin and whiles I dream. A bonny day like this I look." English Strickland, tutor at Glenfernie House, looked, too, at the feathery glen, vivid in June sunshine. The ash-tree before Mother Binning's cot overhung a pool of the little river. Below, the water brawled and leaped from ledge to ledge, but here at the head of the glen it ran smooth and...
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by:
Various
THE SELECTOR,ANDLITERARY NOTICES OF NEW WORKS. CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.(By the author of Waverley.)[We have the pleasure of submitting to our readers, (almost entire,) one of the stories of the forthcoming Chronicles of the Canongate, it being the second narrative, and the last in the first volume, and as well as the others, founded on true incidents. The Chronicles are domestic tales; but the Two...
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by:
William Walton
NE of the grandest institutions of ancient France was the Parlement de Paris, and its history and that of the prévôts would constitute a history of the capital, while that of the fitful and accidental convocations of the États Généraux would in nowise illustrate that of the nation. Our facilities for acquiring a knowledge of the functions and methods of procedure of the Parlement have been greatly...
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How Atlanta Grew. The Atlanta of to-day is a growth of thirty-eight years. Twice has the upbuilding of a city on this site demonstrated its natural advantages. Within a few years before the war Atlanta had become a bustling town of 11,000 inhabitants, and during the three years which intervened before its destruction the place was the seat of varied and important industries, whose principal object was...
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CHAPTER I "Hi, there! Mikky! Look out!" It was an alert voice that called from a huddled group of urchins in the forefront of the crowd, but the child flashed past without heeding, straight up the stone steps where stood a beautiful baby smiling on the crowd. With his bundle of papers held high, and the late morning sunlight catching his tangle of golden hair, Mikky flung himself toward the...
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CHAPTER I. My father, Reginald Monfort, was an English gentleman of good family, who, on his marriage with a Jewish lady of wealth and refinement, emigrated to America, rather than subject her and himself to the commentaries of his own fastidious relatives, and the incivilities of a clique to which by allegiance of birth and breeding he unfortunately belonged. Her own family had not been less averse to...
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