CHAPTER XIX. The Court Travels in Picardy and Flanders.—The Boudoir Navy.—Madame deMontespan Is Not Invited.—The King Relates to Her the Delights of theJourney.—Reflections of the Marquise. The King, consoled as he was for the death of the Duchesse de Fontanges, did not, on that account, return to that sweet and agreeable intimacy which had united us for the space of eleven or twelve years. He... more...

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY. I suppose that very few casual readers of the "New York Herald" of August 13th observed, in an obscure corner, among the "Deaths," the announcement, "NOLAN. DIED, on board U.S. Corvette Levant, Lat. 2° 11' S., Long. 131° W., on the 11th of May: Philip Nolan." I happened to observe it, because I was stranded at the old Mission-House in Mackinac,... more...

Boys and Girls This is your book.You may read it.It tells a story.Read about the cows.They give milk.It is milk for you and me. Winifred Randell formerly withThe Laboratory School, The University of Chicago The cows are eating.They like green grass.The sun is shining.Cows need sunshine.They give milk every day.It is milk for you and me. Milking Time This is a clean barn.The cows are clean, too.The man... more...

Christmas Roses A BUNCH of Christmas Roses, dear,To greet my fairest child,I plucked them in my garden whereThe drifting snow lay piled. I cannot bring thee violets dear,Or cowslips growing wild,Or daisy chain for thee to wear,For thee to wear, my child.For all the grassy meadows nearAre clad with snow, my child;Through all the days of winter drearNo ray of sun has smiled.I plucked this bunch of... more...

THE sun withdrew his last pale ray,And clos’d the short and chearless day;Loud blew the wind, and rain and sleetAgainst the cottage casement beat.The busy housewife trimm’d her fire,And drew the oaken settle nigher,[p6]And welcom’d home her own good manTo his clean hearth, his pipe, and can;For Homespun and his bustling wifeWere honest folks in humble life,Who liv’d contented with their lot,And... more...

BLANCHE'S LETTERS. SOCIETY "WAR-WORKERS." DEAREST DAPHNE,—The scarcity of paper isn't altogether an unmixed misfortune, as far as one's correspondence is concerned. Letters that don't matter, letters from the insignificant and the boresome, simply aren't answered. For small spur-of-the-moment notes to one's intimes who're not too far off, there's quite... more...

CHAPTER I I. The Spirit of Woman With what a valiant and unyielding spirit our forefathers met the unspeakable hardships of the first days of American colonization! We of these softer and more abundant times can never quite comprehend what distress, what positive suffering those bold souls of the seventeenth century endured to establish a new people among the nations of the world. The very voyage from... more...

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FANNY Fanny started off early one morning, like little Red Riding Hood, to visit her grandmother, who lives quite at the other end of the village. But Fanny did not stop like Red Riding Hood to pick hazel nuts. She went straight on her way, and did not see any wolf. Even when quite a long way off, she could see her grandmother seated on her stone doorstep, the dear grandmother who smiled with her... more...

A PARABLE I am today twenty-five hundred years old. I have been dead for nearly as many years. My place of birth was Athens; my grave was not far from those of Xenophon and Plato, within view of the white glory of Athens and the shimmering waters of the Aegean sea. After sleeping in my grave for many centuries I awoke suddenly—I cannot tell how nor why—and was transported by a force beyond my... more...