IANTIQUITY I have often been caricatured in Turkish dress seated upon cushions, and surrounded by cats so familiar that they did not hesitate to climb upon my shoulders and even upon my head. The caricature is truth slightly exaggerated, and I must own that all my life I have been as fond of animals in general and of cats in particular as any brahmin or old maid. The great Byron always trotted a... more...

I. "I hear," said Mrs. Abram Van Riper, seated at her breakfast-table, and watching the morning sunlight dance on the front of the great Burrell house on the opposite side of Pine Street, "that the Dolphs are going to build a prodigious fine house out of town—somewhere up near the Rynders's place." "And I hear," said Abram Van Riper, laying down last night's Evening... more...

CHAPTER I In the dining-room of a fine house on the Boulevard Raspail all the Darbois family were gathered together about the round table, on which a white oil cloth bordered with gold-medallioned portraits of the line of French kings served as table cover at family meals. The Darbois family consisted of François Darbois, professor of philosophy, a scholar of eminence and distinction; of Madame... more...

CHAPTER I Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street, looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston. He had lived there as a student, but for twenty years and more, since he had been Professor of Philosophy in a Western university, he had seldom come East except to take a steamer for some foreign port.... more...

CHAPTER I. CASTLE MISERY Upon the southern slope of one of those barren hills that rise abruptly here and there in the desolate expanse of the Landes, in South-western France, stood, in the reign of Louis XIII, a gentleman's residence, such as abound in Gascony, and which the country people dignify by the name of chateau. Two tall towers, with extinguisher tops, mounted guard at the angles of the... more...

THE HEIR OF SWIFT'S VANESSA Nowhere in the annals of our history is recorded an odder phase of curious fortune than that by which Bishop Berkeley, of Cloyne, was enabled early in the eighteenth century to sail o'erseas to Newport, Rhode Island, there to build (in 1729) the beautiful old place, Whitehall, which is still standing. Hundreds of interested visitors drive every summer to the old... more...

CHAPTER I. GRIM THE FISHER AND HIS SONS. This story is not about myself, though, because I tell of things that I have seen, my name must needs come into it now and then. The man whose deeds I would not have forgotten is my foster-brother, Havelok, of whom I suppose every one in England has heard. Havelok the Dane men call him here, and that is how he will always be known, as I think. He being so well... more...

CHAPTER I. Departure from Lucknow—Gholam Hazrut—Attack on the late Prime Minister, Ameen-od-Dowla—A similar attack on the sons of a former Prime Minister, Agar Meer—Gunga Sing and Kulunder Buksh—Gorbuksh Sing, of Bhitolee—Gonda Bahraetch district—Rughbur Sing—Prethee Put, of Paska—King of Oude and King of the Fairies—Surafraz mahal. December 1, 1849.—I left Lucknow to proceed on a... more...

"WHAT'S TRINGANU?" "I don't care what your orders are. Cap'n Hollinger sent for me, and I'm going aboard or I'll know the reason why!" "Well, ain't you just heard the reason why, son? He ain't here, and orders is orders. There ain't no one comin' aboard the Seamew, that's all. Nothin' was said about any Mart Judson, kid."... more...

CHAPTER1 ABOARD THE GOODTIME A blanket of fog, thick and damp, swirled about the decks of the excursion steamer, Goodtime, cautiously plying its course down the river. At intervals, above the steady throb of the ship’s engines, a fog horn sounded its mournful warning to small craft. “I hope we don’t collide with another boat before we make the dock,” remarked Louise Sidell who stood at the... more...