I. Tremendous Trifles Once upon a time there were two little boys who lived chiefly in the front garden, because their villa was a model one. The front garden was about the same size as the dinner table; it consisted of four strips of gravel, a square of turf with some mysterious pieces of cork standing up in the middle and one flower bed with a row of red daisies. One morning while they were at play... more...

"Good afternoon, sir," nodded Correy as I entered the navigating room. He glanced down at the two glowing three-dimensional navigating charts, and drummed restlessly on the heavy frames. "Afternoon, Mr. Correy. Anything of interest to report?" "Not a thing, sir!" growled my fire-eating first officer. "I'm about ready to quit the Service and get a job on one of the... more...

"But you live like such a fool—of course you're bored!" drawled the Older Man, rummaging listlessly through his pockets for the ever-elusive match. "Well, I like your nerve!" protested the Younger Man with unmistakable asperity. "Do you—really?" mocked the Older Man, still smiling very faintly. For a few minutes then both men resumed their cigars, staring blinkishly out... more...

"Behold!The Sphinx is Africa. The bondOf Silence is upon her. OldAnd white with tombs, and rent and shorn;With raiment wet with tears and torn,And trampled on, yet all untamed."MILLER Africa is at once the most romantic and the most tragic of continents. Its very names reveal its mystery and wide-reaching influence. It is the "Ethiopia" of the Greek, the "Kush" and "Punt"... more...

To —— ——. Spring saw my little venture just begun;And then your hospitable message came,Inviting me to taste the strawberriesAt Strawberry Hill. I went. How long I stayed,Urged by dear friends and the restoring breeze,Let me not say; long enough to completeMy rhythmic structure; day by day it grew,And all sweet influences helped its growth.The lawn sloped green and ample till the treesMet on... more...

CHAPTER I. MR. LARCHER GOES OUT IN THE RAIN The night set in with heavy and unceasing rain, and, though the month was August, winter itself could not have made the streets less inviting than they looked to Thomas Larcher. Having dined at the caterer's in the basement, and got the damp of the afternoon removed from his clothes and dried out of his skin, he stood at his window and gazed down at the... more...

It is an unromantic fact, but one which cannot fail to be of interest at the present time, that the remarkable development of the graver's art in England during the latter part of the eighteenth century was due, in a measure at least, to—Protection. In the middle of the century our trade in engravings was still an import one, English print-sellers being obliged to pay hard cash for the prints... more...

CHAPTER I: THE BLACK-BELLIED TARANTULA The Spider has a bad name: to most of us, she represents an odious, noxious animal, which every one hastens to crush under foot.  Against this summary verdict the observer sets the beast’s industry, its talent as a weaver, its wiliness in the chase, its tragic nuptials and other characteristics of great interest.  Yes, the Spider is well worth studying, apart... more...

A Tale of London "Come," said the Sultan to his hasheesh-eater in the very furthest lands that know Bagdad, "dream to me now of London." And the hasheesh-eater made a low obeisance and seated himself cross-legged upon a purple cushion broidered with golden poppies, on the floor, beside an ivory bowl where the hasheesh was, and having eaten liberally of the hasheesh blinked seven times... more...

My name is John Brenwalter. My father, a drunkard, had a patent for an invention, for making coffee-berries out of clay; but he was an honest man and would not himself engage in the manufacture. He was, therefore, only moderately wealthy, his royalties from his really valuable invention bringing him hardly enough to pay his expenses of litigation with rogues guilty of infringement. So I lacked many... more...