INTRODUCTION The writer on Colonial Affairs is naturally, to some extent, discouraged by the knowledge that the subject is an unattractive one to a large proportion of the reading public. It is difficult to get up anything beyond a transient interest in the affairs of our Colonial dependencies; indeed, I believe that the mind of the British public was more profoundly moved by the exodus of Jumbo, than... more...

CHAPTER I “ No,” said the Princess. “No. I’m—dashed if I do.” “My darling child!” exclaimed the Grand Duchess. “You’re impossible. If any one should hear you!” “It’s he who’s impossible,” the Princess amended. “I’m just trying to show you—” “Or to shock me. You are so like your grandmother.” “That’s the best compliment any one can give me, which is lucky,... more...

LA GRANDE BRETECHE "Ah! madame," replied the doctor, "I have some appalling stories in my collection. But each one has its proper hour in a conversation—you know the pretty jest recorded by Chamfort, and said to the Duc de Fronsac: 'Between your sally and the present moment lie ten bottles of champagne.'" "But it is two in the morning, and the story of Rosina has... more...

CHAPTER I THE HAWTHORNES AND THE PEABODYS To my lot have fallen sundry letters of my mother's, received in youth by her sisters and friends, and by her husband and others in later life. I have often read over these magic little pictures of old days, and each time have felt less inclined to let them remain silently in the family. The letters are full of sunshine, which is not even yet in the least... more...

THE MEETING OF BOSEPHUS AND HORATIO"Oh, 'twas down in the woods of the Arkansaw,And the night was cloudy and the wind was raw,And he didn't have a bed and he didn't have a bite,And if he hadn't fiddled he'd a travelled all night." BOSEPHUS paused in his mad flight to listen. Surely this was someone playing the violin, and the tune was familiar.He listened more... more...

CHAPTER I THE VENTURERS "Mercy!" shrieked little Francette, her red-rose face aghast, "he will begin before I can bring the help!" Like a flash of flame the maid in her crimson skirt shot up the main way of Fort de Seviere to where the factory lay asleep in the warm spring sun. On its log step, pipe in mouth, young Anders McElroy leaned against the jamb and looked smilingly out upon his... more...

THE CHILD IN THE MIDST. And he came to Capernaum: and, being in the house, he asked them, What was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way? But they held their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves who should be the greatest. And he sat down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all. And he... more...

The mid-day sun beat fiercely on the much-trodden square in front of a provincial railway station. The old white mare nodded drowsily between the shafts of the yellow mailcart which rattled down from the little town to meet every train. Two or three hotel omnibuses, painted brownish-grey, with mud-splashed wheels, also came clattering down the dusty boulevard, at the other end of which rose two stucco... more...

CHAPTER I "What's on for to-night, Burt?" Mr. St. John, a large automobile manufacturer of New Britain, Connecticut, looked across the dinner table at his son Burton. The latter was a boy of seventeen. Although he was sturdy for his age, his features were pale and denoted hard study. As his father and mother watched him there was just a hint of anxiety in their faces. "Lots,"... more...

Fires of Driftwood ON what long tidesDo you drift to my fire,You waifs of strange waters?From what far seas,What murmurous sands,What desolate beaches—Flotsam of those glories that were ships! I gather you,Bitter with salt,Sun-bleached, rock-scarred, moon-harried,Fuel for my fire. You are Pride’s end.Through all to-morrows you are yesterday.You are waste,You are ruin,For where is that which once... more...