L ilac hazes veil the skies. Languid sighs Breathes the mild, caressing air. Pink as coral's branching sprays, Orchard ways With the blossomed peach are fair. Sunshine, cordial as a kiss, Poureth bliss In this craving soul of mine, And my heart her flower-cup Lifteth up, Thirsting for the draught divine. Swift the liquid golden flame Through my frame Sets my throbbing veins afire. Bright, alluring... more...

Every child that is born is born of a community and into a community, which existed before his birth and will continue to exist after his death. He learns to speak the language which the community spoke before he was born, and which the community will continue to speak after he has gone. In learning the language he acquires not only words but ideas; and the words and ideas he acquires, the thoughts he... more...

THE SONG OF THE KAZAK Kazak speeds ever toward the North,    Kazak has never heart for rest,Not on the field, nor in the wood,  Nor when in face of danger pressedHis steed the raging stream must breast! Kazak speeds ever toward the North,With him a mighty power brings,To win the honour of his land  Kazak his life unheeding flings—Till fame of him eternal sings! Kazak brought all SiberiaAt... more...

CHAPTER I A NIGHT journey is essentially a thing of possibilities. To those who count it as mere transit, mere linking of experiences, it is, of course, a commonplace; but to the imaginative, who by gift divine see a picture in every cloud, a story behind every shadow, it suggests romance—romance in the very making.Such a vessel of inspiration was the powerful north express as it thundered over the... more...

SONGS OF TWO I   Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;      And as I slept, forgot of man and God,      That other dreamless sleep of rest,      I heard a footstep on the sod,      As of one passing overhead,—  And lo, thou, Dear, didst touch me on the breast,      Saying: "What shall I write against thy name          That men should... more...

Pulpits of Southern Italy. The pulpits and ambos chosen for the illustrations in this issue of The Brochures are mainly interesting for their wonderful mosaic decorations which are among the finest of their kind which have ever been executed. The work of the family of Cosmati, by whose name the Roman mosaic or inlay of this description is known, such as that in plate LXXI, is similar in design and... more...

SO, GENERAL, I came in to tell you I've found the loneliest man in the world for the Space Force. How am I supposed to rate his loneliness for you? In Megasorrows or Kilofears? I suspect I know quite a library on the subject, but you know more about stripes and bars. Don't try to stop me this time, General. Now that you mention it, I'm not drunk. I had to have something to back me up so... more...

  A farmer built around his crop    A wall, and crowned his labors  By placing glass upon the top    To lacerate his neighbors,      Provided they at any time      Should feel disposed the wall to climb.   He also drove some iron pegs    Securely in the coping,  To tear the bare, defenceless legs    Of brats who, upward groping,      Might steal, despite the... more...

Is Polite Society Polite? WHY do we ask this question? For reasons which I shall endeavor to make evident. The life in great cities awakens a multitude of ambitions. Some people are very unscrupulous in following these ambitions, attaining their object either by open force and pushing, or by artful and cunning manœuvres. And so it will happen that in the society which considers itself entitled to rank... more...

"Same Old Bill, Eh Mable!" Dere Mable: Were in sunny France at last. I cant tell you much about it yet on account of its havin been so foggy since we got here. We didnt deboat in Paris as I was expectin. We sailed up a river to a town with a wall around it and got off there. I dont know what the wall was for unless to keep people in. They certinly wouldnt need one to keep anybody out of that... more...