PAR AVIUM. Two little birds were sitting on a stone, One flew away and then there was one, T’ other flew away and then there was none, So the poor stone was left all alone. One of the little birds back again flew, In came t’ other and then there were two; Says one bird to t’ other, “How do you do?” “Very well, I thank you; pray how do you?” Fama est par avium venisse insistere saxo,... more...

INTRODUCTION The Negro has been in America just about three hundred years and in that time he has become intertwined in all the history of the nation. He has fought in her wars; he has endured hardships with her pioneers; he has toiled in her fields and factories; and the record of some of the nation's greatest heroes is in large part the story of their service and sacrifice for this people. The... more...

PROLOGUE At the piano a man sat playing the "Revolutionary Étude" of Chopin. The room was magnificent in its proportions, its furnishings were massive, its paneled oak walls were hung with portraits of men and women in the costumes of a bygone day. Through the lofty windows, the casements of which were open to the evening sky there was a vista of forest and meadow-land stretching interminably... more...

CHAPTER I [Difference from European time.] When the clock strikes twelve in Madrid, [1] it is 8 hours, 18 minutes, and 41 seconds past eight in the evening at Manila; that is to say, the latter city lies 124° 40' 15'' to the east of the former (7 hours, 54 minutes, 35 seconds from Paris). Some time ago, however, while the new year was being celebrated in Madrid, it was only New... more...

SHOEING THE BAY MARE Original Picture: National Gallery, London,            England. Artist: Sir Edwin Landseer (lănd´´sÄ“r). Birthplace: London, England. Dates: Born, 1802; died, 1873. Questions to arouse interest. What is the man in this picture doing? How many have watched a blacksmith shoe a horse? Why does he wear an apron made of leather? From what do the sparks fly?... more...

CHAPTER I On the day Fort Sumter surrendered I was seventeen years old, having been born April 14, 1844. Like other boys, I proposed enlisting, but my father refused consent; and at that time youths under eighteen years would not be accepted without the consent of parents. In July of the following year, when the news of McClellan's retreat on the Peninsula was published, I was satisfied that the... more...

PROLOGUE In the first place please bear in mind that I do not expect you to believe this story. Nor could you wonder had you witnessed a recent experience of mine when, in the armor of blissful and stupendous ignorance, I gaily narrated the gist of it to a Fellow of the Royal Geological Society on the occasion of my last trip to London. You would surely have thought that I had been detected in no less... more...

CHAPTER I. Summer still lingered in the land when Wellington College opened her gates one morning in September. Frequent heavy rains had freshened the thirsty fields and meadows, and autumn had not yet touched the foliage with scarlet and gold. The breeze that fluttered the curtains at the windows of No. 5 Quadrangle was as soft and humid as a breath of May. It was as if spring was in the air and the... more...

GRASSE For several months I had been seeing Grasse every day. The atmosphere of the Midi is so clear that a city fifteen miles away seems right at hand. You can almost count the windows in the houses. Against the rising background of buildings every tower stands out, and you distinguish one roof from another. From my study window at Théoule, Grasse was as constant a temptation as the two islands in... more...

"Pussycat, Pussycat, where have you been?" "I've been to London, to see the Queen.""Pussycat, Pussycat, what did you there?" "I caught a little mouse under the chair," Her mother said it three times. And each time the Baby Harriett laughed. The sound of her laugh was so funny that she laughed again at that; she kept on laughing, with shriller and shriller squeals.... more...