CHAPTER I. The platform at Euston was crowded, and the porters' barrows piled high with luggage. During the last week in July the Irish mail carries a heavy load of passengers, and for the twenty minutes before its departure people are busy endeavouring to secure their own comfort and the safety of their belongings. There are schoolboys, with portmanteaux, play-boxes, and hand-bags, escaping home... more...

Woodrow Wilson named the first volume of his History of the United States "The Swarming of the English." We might go further and compare the colonization and expansion in the New World to a fissioning process in which individual atoms are torn loose from a former pattern of coherence and fused into new and strange patterns. The United States, indeed, is still in the process of fusion following... more...

There was three of us—I mean if you count Arthur. We split up to avoid attracting attention. Engdahl just came in over the big bridge, but I had Arthur with me so I had to come the long way around. When I registered at the desk, I said I was from Chicago. You know how it is. If you say you’re from Philadelphia, it’s like saying you’re from St. Louis or Detroit—I mean nobody lives in... more...

I Had you been in Paris late in the afternoon of Monday, August third, nineteen fourteen, you might have seen a slight man, whose reddish face was adorned with a thick white mustache, walk out of the German Embassy, which was situated on the Rue de Lille near the Boulevard St. Germain. Along the boulevard and across the Pont de la Concorde he walked in a manner calculated to attract attention. He... more...

CHAPTER I THE RUNAWAY CAR "The boys will be here in five minutes!" cried Mollie Billette, bursting in upon her friend, dark hair flying and eyes alight. "You'd better get on your hat." "What boys and why the hat?" returned Grace Ford who, pretty and graceful, as always, was provokingly calm. "I'll answer any and everything if you will only get ready. Oh, have you... more...

PROLOGUE.   The front of the stage represents a rustic spot, while at the back the sea can be seen in the distance.   SCENE I. Flora. appears in the centre of the stage, attended by Vertumnus, god of trees and fruit, and by Palemon, god of the streams. Each of these gods conducts a troup of divinities; one leads in his train Dryads and Sylvans, and the other River Gods and Naiads. Flora sings the... more...

CHAPTER I ASCENDI Honora did not go back to Quicksands. Neither, in this modern chronicle, shall we. The sphere we have left, which we know is sordid, sometimes shines in the retrospect. And there came a time, after the excitement of furnishing the new house was over, when our heroine, as it were, swung for a time in space: not for a very long time; that month, perhaps, between autumn and winter. We... more...

ENTHUSIASM.Oh for the spirit which inspired of oldThe seer's prophetic song—the voice that spakeThrough Israel's warrior king. The strains that burstIn thrilling tones from Zion's heaven-strung harp,Float down the tide of ages, shedding lightOn pagan shores and nations far remote:Eternal as the God they celebrate,Their fame shall last when Time's long race is run,And you refulgent... more...

THE LAKE OF THE WHITE CANOE.Wo! Wo! WoWo to the sons of the far-off land,Weak in heart and pale in face,Deer in battle, moose in a race,Panthers wanting claw and toothWo to the red man, strong of hand,Steady of purpose, lithe of limb,Calm in the toils of the foe,Knowing nor tears nor ruthWo to them and him,If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp,Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp,That skirts... more...

SWEEPSTAKES. Shakspere was the greatest delver into the mysterious mind of man and Nature, and sunk his intellectual plummet deeper into the ocean of thought than any mortal that ever lived, before or after his glorious advent upon the earth. He was a universal ocean of knowledge, and the ebb and flow of his thoughts pulsated on the shores of every human passion. He was a mountain range of ideals, and... more...