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CHAPTER I. ANCESTRY—BIRTH—BOYHOOD. My family is American, and has been for generations, in all its branches, direct and collateral. Mathew Grant, the founder of the branch in America, of which I am a descendant, reached Dorchester, Massachusetts, in May, 1630. In 1635 he moved to what is now Windsor, Connecticut, and was the surveyor for that colony for more than forty years. He was also, for many...
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Francis Beaumont
Actus Primus. Scena Prima. Enter Clorin a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour. Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbraceThe truest man that ever fed his flocksBy the fat plains of fruitful Thessaly,Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I payMy early vows, and tribute of mine eyesTo thy still loved ashes; thus I freeMy self from all insuing heats and firesOf love: all sports, delights and...
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Various
THE RAPHAEL CELEBRATION AT ROME. The most famous of Italian painters, Raffaele Sanzio, whom the world commonly calls Raphael, was born at Urbino, in Umbria, part of the Papal States, four hundred years ago. The anniversary was celebrated, on March 28, 1883, both in that town and in Rome, where he lived and worked, and where he died in 1520, with processions, orations, poetical recitations, performances...
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Gr-r-r! There he goes again! Brother Ambrose could scarce restrain the hatred that seethed and churned in his breast, as his smallish eyes followed Brother Lorenzo headed once more for his beloved geraniums, the inevitable watering-pot gripped in both hands, the inevitable devotions rising in a whispered stream from his saintly lips. The very fact the man lived was a mockery to human justice:...
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Laura Lee Hope
CHAPTER I THE LAMB'S WISH Out of his box the Jack popped his head. The funny, black fringe of whiskers around his face jiggled up and down. His queer, big eyes looked around the store. "Hurray!" cried the Jack in the Box. "We are alone at last and now we can have some fun! Hurray!" "Are you sure?" asked a Bold Tin Soldier, who stood at the head of a company of his men in a...
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Mrs. Milne Rae
CHAPTER I. GRACE CAMPBELL. was a chilly Scotch spring day. The afternoon sun glistened with fitful, feeble rays on the windows of the old house of Kirklands, and unpleasant little gusts of east wind came eddying round its ancient gables, and sweeping along its broad walks and shrubberies, sending a chill to the hearts of all the young green things that were struggling into life. On the time-worn...
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This book has grown out of studies begun twenty years ago in Italy, and continued fitfully, as I found the mood and time for them, long after their original circumstance had become a pleasant memory. If any one were to say that it did not fully represent the Italian poetry of the period which it covers chronologically, I should applaud his discernment; and perhaps I should not contend that it did much...
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Bret Harte
TRENT'S TRUST I Randolph Trent stepped from the Stockton boat on the San Francisco wharf, penniless, friendless, and unknown. Hunger might have been added to his trials, for, having paid his last coin in passage money, he had been a day and a half without food. Yet he knew it only by an occasional lapse into weakness as much mental as physical. Nevertheless, he was first on the gangplank to land,...
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Daniel B. Shepp
Page 3 PREFACE n all ages, men have been eager to tell and to hear new things; and before books were printed, travellers wandered abroad, bringing home wonderful stories of unknown lands. In the construction of this publication, the object is not to tell stories or relate experiences, but to exhibit, by carefully taken photographs, the great sights of the world as they exist to-day. The art of teaching...
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INTRODUCTION The “Diary of a Resurrectionist” here reprinted is only of a fragmentary character. It is, however, unique in being an actual record of the doings of one gang of the resurrection-men in London. Many persons have expressed a wish that so interesting a document should be published; permission having been obtained to print the Diary, an endeavour has been made to gratify this wish. To...
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