THE HUT IN THE WOODThe woman who told me this, and other strange tales which I may one day try to put together, had no gift of writing, but only a pathetic regard for those who had. I say pathetic, because to me her extraordinary experiences so far outvalue the tinkling art of recording them as to make her simple admiration for the artist little short of absurd. She had herself a pretty talent for... more...

Every now and then a Jack Johnson would fall and leave a hole in which one could bury a motor, and, apart from the shells, the holes made driving risky. There was over a mile of the road in this unhealthy state, and entirely exposed to the enemy's guns, before any shelter could be obtained; but the wounded must be fetched, and the cars pushed on as fast as they dared to drive. They were suddenly... more...

CHAPTER I HOW BELTANE LIVED WITHIN THE GREENWOOD In a glade of the forest, yet not so far but that one might hear the chime of bells stealing across the valley from the great minster of Mortain on a still evening, dwelt Beltane the Smith. Alone he lived in the shadow of the great trees, happy when the piping of the birds was in his ears, and joying to listen to the plash and murmur of the brook that... more...

THE ARTIST'S LIFE The father of a young woman who was preparing to become a virtuoso once applied to a famous musical educator for advice regarding the future career of his daughter. "I want her to become one of the greatest pianists America has ever produced," he said. "She has talent, good health, unlimited ambition, a good general education, and she is industrious." The educator... more...

There was a little woman,As I have heard tell,She went to market,Her Eggs for to sell.She went to Market,All on a Market day,And she fell asleep,On the King’s highway.By came a Pedlar,His name it was Stout,And he cut her petticoats,All round about.He cut her PetticoatsUp to her knees,Which made the little womanBegan for to freeze.When this little woman,Began to awake,She began to shiver,And she began... more...

CHAPTER I. 1676-1684 Parentage of Peter—His father's double marriage—Death of his father—The princesses—Their places of seclusion—Theodore and John—Sophia uneasy in the convent—Her request—Her probable motives—Her success—Increase of her influence—Jealousies—Parties formed—The imperial guards—Their character and influence—Dangers—Sophia and the... more...

INTRODUCTION. THIS book is not for the purpose of instruction in singing, as singing is an art which cannot be taught from book or correspondence. Neither is it a technical treatise on the voice, but instead I aim through the medium of my book to have a "heart-to-heart" talk with the beginner, and with those who contemplate the study of voice culture. Books abounding in technical terms are... more...

THE OVERTURE. Day of the month and year, November the thirtieth, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-five.  London Time by the great clock of Saint Paul’s, ten at night.  All the lesser London churches strain their metallic throats.  Some, flippantly begin before the heavy bell of the great cathedral; some, tardily begin three, four, half a dozen, strokes behind it; all are in sufficiently near... more...

INTRODUCTION Up to the years of the Crimean War Russia was always a strange, uncouth riddle to the European consciousness. It would be an interesting study to trace back through the last three centuries the evidence of the historical documents that our forefathers have left us when they were brought face to face, through missions, embassies, travel, and commerce, with the fantastic life, as it seemed... more...

Our Old Home in Pennsylvania—Reverse of Fortune—Arrival in Trinidad—Uncle Paul and Arthur follow us—Settled on an Estate—Suspected of Heresy—Our Mother’s Illness—Don Antonio’s Warning—Our Mother’s Death—The Priest’s Indignation—We leave Home—Arthur’s Narrow Escape. We lived very happily at the dear old home in the State of Pennsylvania, where my sister Marian and I were... more...