SOMETHING AMISS. Everybody knows Canterbury, with its Old-World charms and its ostentatious air of being content to be rather behind the times, of looking down upon the hurrying Americans who dash through its cathedral and take snap-shots at its slums, and at all those busy moderns who cannot afford to take life at its own jog-trot pace. But everybody does not know the charming old halls and... more...

I. BEING A BOY One of the best things in the world to be is a boy; it requires no experience, though it needs some practice to be a good one. The disadvantage of the position is that it does not last long enough; it is soon over; just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be something else, with a good deal more work to do and not half so much fun. And yet every boy is anxious to be a man, and is... more...

Preface. I have been called upon to write illustrative sketches to a series of engravings, designed by an eminent artist. In performing my part of the work I have thrown the Mammalia into twenty-four groups—corresponding more or less to the picture designs—and have dwelt chiefly on the geographical distribution of the animals. The Cetaceae and Vespertilionidae are properly omitted. In the groups... more...

Introductory Notice WHILE ENGAGED in writing an account of the grand enterprise of Astoria, it was my practice to seek all kinds of oral information connected with the subject. Nowhere did I pick up more interesting particulars than at the table of Mr. John Jacob Astor; who, being the patriarch of the fur trade in the United States, was accustomed to have at his board various persons of adventurous... more...

Ludovick Eversole sat in the golden sunshine outside his house, writing a poem as he watched the street flow gently past him. There were very few people on it, for he lived in a slow part of town, and those who went in for travel generally preferred streets where the pace was quicker. Moreover, on a sultry spring afternoon like this one, there would be few people wandering abroad. Most would be lying... more...

PURPLE PATCHES FROM LORD YORICK'S GREAT BOOK. (Special Review.) Lord Yorick's Reminiscences, just published by the house of Hussell, abound in genial anecdote, in which the "personal note" is lightly and gracefully struck, in welcome contrast to the stodgy political memoirs with which we have been surfeited of late. We append some extracts, culled at random from these jocund pages:—... more...

MEMOIR OF THOMAS CAMPBELL, ESQ. Of the subject of this memoir, it has been remarked, "that he has not, that we know of, written one line, which, dying, he could wish to blot." These few words will better illustrate the fitness of Mr. Campbell's portrait for our volume, than a laudatory memoir of many pages. He has not inaptly been styled the Tyrtaeus of modern English poetry, and one of... more...

CHAPTER I A BOMBING AIR RAID The scene in the valley was striking in one respect. Low ranges of gently sloping hills had widened out, enclosing broad levels with what in America would be termed a creek but was here poetically named a river. By here I mean eastern France, not so many miles from No-Man's-Land. The "striking" feature was the "Flying Camp" spread out over a dead level... more...

CHAPTER1 OLD MAN OF THE HILLS A girl in crumpled linen slacks skidded to a fast stop on the polished floor of the Star business office. With a flourish, she pushed a slip of paper through the bars of the treasurer’s cage. She grinned beguilingly at the man who was totaling a long column of figures. “Top o’ the morning, Mr. Peters,” she chirped. “How about cashing a little check for me?” The... more...

Doctors lay by your Irksome Books And all ye Petty-Fogging Rookes Leave Quacking; and Enucleate The vertues of our Chocolate. Let th’ Universall Medicine (Made up of Dead-mens Bones and Skin,)Be henceforth Illegitimate,And yeild to Soveraigne-Chocolate. Let Bawdy-Baths be us’d no more;Nor Smoaky-Stoves but by the whoreOf Babilon: since Happy-Fate Hath Blessed us with Chocolate. Let old Punctæus... more...