Chapter I The Cherry-Pudding Story The June breeze hurried up from the harbor to the big house on the hill, and fluttered playfully past the window vines into the children's convalescent ward. It was a common saying at the hospital that the tidal breeze always reached the children's ward first. Sometimes the little people were waiting for it, ready with their welcome; but to-day there were... more...

Never was there a juster observation, than that, in ordinary times, in the same state, genius moves in a circle; originality is lost amidst imitation; we breathe thought not less than vital air. This is more especially the case in all those branches of opinion or philosophy which relate to internal economy, or the social concerns of men. There, it is not merely abstract principle, or disinterested... more...

CHAPTER I Their Large Hours It was three o'clock in the morning when the guests danced Sir Roger de Coverley at Mrs. William Day's New Year's party. They would as soon have thought of having supper without trifle, tipsy-cake, and syllabub, in those days, as of finishing the evening without Sir Roger. Dancing had begun at seven-thirty. The lady at the piano was drooping with weariness.... more...

INTRODUCTION The body of this little book consists of the personal diary of a young Quaker named Cyrus Guernsey Pringle of Charlotte, Vermont. He was drafted for service in the Union Army, July 13th, 1863. Under the existing draft law a person who had religious scruples against engaging in war was given the privilege of paying a commutation fine of three hundred dollars. This commutation money... more...

CHAPTER I PLANS FOR AN OUTING "Whoop! hurrah! Zip, boom, ah! Rockets!" "For gracious' sake, Tom, what's all the racket about? I thought we had all the noise we wanted last night, when we broke up camp." "It's news, Dick, glorious news," returned Tom Rover, and he began to dance a jig on the tent flooring. "It's the best ever." "It won't be... more...

This is the House that Jack built. This is the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cow with the... more...

LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. Yacht "Ibex," Weymouth. DEAR MR. PUNCH, Once again "my foot is on my native heath."—(I don't know where this quotation comes from, but presume the author of it had lost a leg, or he would have placed his feet there—or else he must have had one leg shorter than the other, and so couldn't put both down at once!)—and heartily glad I am to be... more...

PREFACE. There is but one consideration of much moment necessary to be premised respecting these legends and myths. It is this: they are versions of oral relations from the lips of the Indians, and are transcripts of the thought and invention of the aboriginal mind. As such, they furnish illustrations of Indian character and opinions on subjects which the ever-cautious and suspicious minds of this... more...

On May 4, 1881, through the courtesy of the Chief of Revenue Marine, Mr. E. W. Clark, I was allowed to take passage from San Francisco, Cal., on board the United States Revenue steamer Corwin, whose destination was Alaska and the northwest Arctic ocean. The object of the cruise was, in addition to revenue duty, to ascertain the fate of two missing whalers and, if possible, to communicate with the... more...

Gottfried Keller, the greatest German narrative writer of recent times, was born in a suburb of Zurich on 19th July, 1819. The life of this remarkable man suggests comparisons with novels of development, such as Goethe taught him to write: from the romantic confusion of youthful dilettantism he brought himself, by strict self-discipline, to take his place in everyday social life. Left, together with... more...