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MY MOTHER'S KISS.   My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss,     I feel its impress now;  As in the bright and happy days     She pressed it on my brow.   You say it is a fancied thing     Within my memory fraught;  To me it has a sacred place—     The treasure house of thought.   Again, I feel her fingers glide     Amid my clustering hair;  I see the... more...

"My folks allus belongs to the Cavins and wore their name till after 'mancipation. Pa and ma was named Freeman and Amelia Cavin and Massa Dave fotches them to Texas from Alabama, along with ma's mother, what we called Maria. "The Cavins allus thunk lots of their niggers and Grandma Maria say, 'Why shouldn't they—it was their money.' She say there was plenty Indians... more...

by: Epictetus
I Are these the only works of Providence within us? What words suffice to praise or set them forth? Had we but understanding, should we ever cease hymning and blessing the Divine Power, both openly and in secret, and telling of His gracious gifts? Whether digging or ploughing or eating, should we not sing the hymn to God:— Great is God, for that He hath given us such instruments to till the ground... more...

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"Attention, Inner-Flight ship! Attention! You are ordered to land at the Control Station on Deimos for inspection. Attention! You are to land at once!" The metallic rasp of the speaker echoed through the corridors of the great ship. The passengers glanced at each other uneasily, murmuring and peering out the port windows at the small speck below, the dot of rock that was the Martian checkpoint,... more...

Xanthias Shall I crack any of those old jokes, master,At which the audience never fail to laugh? DIONYSUS. Aye, what you will, except I'm getting crushed: Fight shy of that: I'm sick of that already. XAN. Nothing else smart? DIO. Aye, save my shoulder's aching. XAN. Come now, that comical joke? DIO. With all my heart. Only be careful not to shift your pole,And— XAN. What? DIO. And vow... more...

BLACK EYES AND BLUE. A dreary little group was trudging along a Swedish highroad one bright October morning. It was a union between north and south, and like many other unions, not altogether founded on love. The bear, the prominent member of the party, was a Swede, and a Swede in a very bad humour. The iron ring in his torn nose, and the stout stick in the hand of one of his Italian masters, showed... more...

CHAPTER I It is in spring that wild birds make their strongest appeal to the human mind; in fact, the words "birds" and "spring" seem almost synonymous, so accustomed are we to associate one with the other. All the wild riotous singing, all the brave flashing of wings and tail, all the mad dashing in and out among the thickets or soaring upward above the tree-tops, are impelled by the... more...

Now first translated into English. This play is to be regarded merely as a dramatic narrative in which, for the purpose of tracing out the innermost workings of the soul, advantage has been taken of the dramatic method, without otherwise conforming to the stringent rules of theatrical composition, or seeking the dubious advantage of stage adaptation. It must be admitted as somewhat inconsistent that... more...

ACT I The SCENE is the Italian Room in ROSCOE CROSBY'S Home in New York. It is a handsome room. A plan of the setting will be found at the end of the play. As the curtain rises Miss HELEN O'NEILL and WILLIAM CROSBY are discovered standing R.C. They are in each other's arms, and the rising curtain discloses them as they kiss. The window blinds are drawn. HELEN. I love you so. WILLIAM. You... more...