A SOCIAL IMPOSSIBILITY It was one of November's rare days. The kindly air, vital with the breath of the north wind and mellow with the genial sun, was full of purple haze; the grass, still vividly green, gave no hint of the coming winter; the trees, bony and bare but for a few rags of summer dress, russet-brown and gold, stood softened of all their harshness in the purple haze and slanting, yellow... more...

CHAPTER I "Tschah!" exclaimed old Roland suddenly, after he had remained motionless for a quarter of an hour, his eyes fixed on the water, while now and again he very slightly lifted his line sunk in the sea. Mme. Roland, dozing in the stern by the side of Mme. Rosemilly, who had been invited to join the fishing-party, woke up, and turning her head to look at her husband, said: "Well, well!... more...

Introductory. When even a quite intelligent person hears about "Aboriginal American Literature," he is very excusable for asking: What is meant by the term? Where is this literature? In fine, Is there any such thing? To answer such inquiries, I propose to treat, with as much brevity as practicable, of the literary efforts of the aborigines of this continent, a chapter in the general History of... more...

I Strings in the earth and airMake music sweet;Strings by the river whereThe willows meet. There's music along the riverFor Love wanders there,Pale flowers on his mantle,Dark leaves on his hair. All softly playing,With head to the music bent,And fingers strayingUpon an instrument. The twilight turns from amethystTo deep and deeper blue,The lamp fills with a pale green glowThe trees of the avenue.... more...

THE THREE BEARS. THERE were once three bears, who lived in a wood,Their porridge was thick, and their chairs and beds good.The biggest bear, Bruin, was surly and rough;His wife, Mrs. Bruin, was called Mammy Muff.Their son, Tiny-cub, was like Dame Goose’s lad;He was not very good, nor yet very bad.Now Bruin, the biggest—the surly old bear—Had a great granite bowl, and a cast-iron chair.Mammy Muffs... more...

The Sunny Side of Diplomatic Life WASHINGTON, 1875-1880 WASHINGTON, November, 1875. Dear Mother,—After my hurriedly written letter of the 24th you will know that we have arrived here safely. My first introduction to my first post as diplomat's wife was made unwittingly by a gentleman walking with a friend just behind me. "Who is that gentleman?" said he, indicating Johan. "That? That... more...

INTRODUCTION Having read with much care the proof sheets of this book, I am prepared to say three things about it, and it gives me pleasure to say them here. THE BOOK IS WELL NAMED. "THE UNFOLDING LIFE." Turn which way we will, we see life unfolding all about us, and yet how faintly are its mysteries understood! And is it not the one thing above all others, which teachers, mothers, fathers and... more...

In the fall of the year 1863, during the Civil War, while serving in the signal corps attached to the fourth corps of the army of the Cumberland, it was my privilege to have a good station on Moccasin Point, opposite Lookout Mountain, on the north side of the Tennessee river, from which to witness the assault of the Union troops under Gen. Hooker up the north face of the mountain, and also the charge... more...

Toward the close of the year 1657, a very plain carriage, with no arms painted on it, stopped, about eight o'clock one evening, before the door of a house in the rue Hautefeuille, at which two other coaches were already standing. A lackey at once got down to open the carriage door; but a sweet, though rather tremulous voice stopped him, saying, "Wait, while I see whether this is the... more...

"And now what shall we do next Wednesday evening?" said Jessie Hyde, in a business-like tone. "It is your turn, Henry, to suggest." Jessie was a practical, energetic young lady, whose blue eyes never relapsed into the dreaminess to which that color is subject. She furnished the "go" for the club. Especially she furnished the "go" for Henry Long, who had lots of ideas,... more...