THE VOYAGE WEDNESDAY, June 26, 1754.—On this day the most melancholy sun I had ever beheld arose, and found me awake at my house at Fordhook. By the light of this sun I was, in my own opinion, last to behold and take leave of some of those creatures on whom I doted with a mother-like fondness, guided by nature and passion, and uncured and unhardened by all the doctrine of that philosophical school... more...

Take a fellow, reasonably young, personable enough, health perfect. Suppose he has all the money he can reasonably, or even unreasonably, use. He is successful in a number of different fields of work in which he is interested. Certainly he has security. Women? Well, maybe not any woman in the world he might want. But still, a very nice, choice selection of a number of the very finest physical... more...

ON THE TOP OF THE TOWER Hortense Daniel pushed her window ajar and whispered: "Are you there, Rossigny?" "I am here," replied a voice from the shrubbery at the front of the house. Leaning forward, she saw a rather fat man looking up at her out of a gross red face with its cheeks and chin set in unpleasantly fair whiskers. "Well?" he asked. "Well, I had a great argument with... more...

THE VIGIL "I'm the happiest man in the world," said Mr. Farrer, in accents of dreamy tenderness. Miss Ward sighed. "Wait till father comes in," she said. Mr. Farrer peered through the plants which formed a welcome screen to the window and listened with some uneasiness. He was waiting for the firm, springy step that should herald the approach of ex-Sergeant-Major Ward. A squeeze of... more...

CHAPTER I. A BABY had come, but he was not welcome. Could anything be sadder? The young mother lay with her white face to the wall, still as death. A woman opened the chamber door noiselessly and came in, the faint rustle of her garments disturbing the quiet air. A quick, eager turning of the head, a look half anxious, half fearful, and then the almost breathless question, "Where is my baby?"... more...

STEPPING BACKWARDS "Wonderful improvement," said Mr. Jack Mills. "Show 'em to me again." Mr. Simpson took his pipe from his mouth and, parting his lips, revealed his new teeth. "And you talk better," said Mr. Mills, taking his glass from the counter and emptying it; "you ain't got that silly lisp you used to have. What does your missis think of 'em?"... more...

his thing really started before the time I had Willy Maloon under observation when he gunned the small runabout well past cruising speed in order to reach the little asteroid as soon as he could. At times like that he showed undue impatience. I was following at a discreet distance behind him, homing in on the rock, too. I had to find out what he was up to. Archie Crosby, the obliging scoundrel, had... more...

I was born the thirteenth child of a family of fourteen, on the thirteenth day of the month, and I have for many years resided at No. 13 in a certain street in Westminster. In spite of the popular prejudice attached to this numeral, I am not conscious of having derived any particular ill-fortune from my accidental association with it. Owing to my sequence in the family procession, I found myself on my... more...

PREFACE Whether the story of Alonzo and Melissa will generally please, the writer knows not; if, however, he is not mistaken, it is not unfriendly to religion and to virtue.—One thing was aimed to be shown, that a firm reliance on Providence, however the affections might be at war with its dispensations, is the only source of consolation in the gloomy hours of affliction; and that generally such... more...

A fashion plate is a costume portrait indicating a suitable style of clothing that can be made or secured. Fashion illustration began in the late 15th and early 16th centuries with portrait pictures that made a person’s identity known not by his individual features but rather by his dress. This paper, based on a lecture given in the fall of 1963 at the Metropolitan Museum, New York, traces the... more...