M. de Voltaire; My Discussions with That Great Man—Ariosto—The Duc deVillars—The Syndic and the Three Girls—Dispute withVoltaire—Aix-en-Savoie—The Marquis Desarmoises "M. de Voltaire," said I, "this is the happiest moment of my life. I have been your pupil for twenty years, and my heart is full of joy to see my master." "Honour me with your attendance on my course for... more...

I may assume, that after the terrible example given in my last chapter, you have firmly made up your mind never on any account to take service in the great army of bores. But this determination is not all that is necessary. A man must constantly keep a strict guard on himself, lest he should unconsciously deviate even for a few minutes into the regions of boredom. Whatever you do, let nothing tempt you... more...

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. The origin of the phrase, Le Coup de Jarnac, is interesting, and the story is well told by Mr. MACDOWALL in Macmillan's Magazine. Good, this, for "The Two Macs." In The Argosy, edited by Mr. CHARLES WOOD, there are two good most seasonable Ghost Stories, by CHARLES W. WOOD, the "Rev. F.O.W." The first is not new, as there is a similar legend attached to several... more...

Mister Henderson called me into his office my third day back in Tangiers. That was a day and a half later than I'd expected. Roving claims investigators for Tangiers Mutual Insurance Corporation don't usually get to spend more than thirty-six consecutive hours at home base. Henderson was jovial but stern. That meant he was happy with the job I'd just completed, and that he was pretty... more...

The sun was sinking low beyond the ford of the foaming Platte. The distant bluffs commanding the broad valley of the Sweetwater stood sharp and clear against the westward skies. The smoke from the camp-fires along the stream rose in misty columns straight aloft, for not so much as a breath of breeze had wafted down from the far snow fields of Cloud Peak, or the sun-sheltered rifts of the Big Horn. The... more...

THE AMATEUR. "I ain't sayin' as how I could run a whole fire, same as some of the chiefs do; but when it comes to drivin' an engine, Dan Roberts, an' doin' it in time to get the first water, or layin' hose, I wouldn't knuckle down to the biggest man in the Department." "Now see here, Seth Bartlett, what's the sense of talkin' that way? It would... more...

A LETTER, &c. Micmaki-Country, March 27, 1755. SIR, I should long before now have satisfied you in those points of curiosity you expressed, concerning the savages amongst whom I have so long resided, if I could have found leisure for it. Literally true it is, that I have no spare time here, unless just in the evening, and that not always. This was my case too in Louisbourg; and I do not doubt but... more...

You know a murderer preys on your household—lives with you—depends on you—and you have no defence! Death wore the seeming of a battered Chevrolet. The child's scream and the screech of rubber on concrete knifed through two seconds of time before snapping, like a celery stalk of sound, into aching silence. The silence of limbo, called into being for the space of a slow heartbeat. Then the... more...

Daniel Boone. In all notices of border life, the name of Daniel Boone appears first—as the hero and the father of the west. In him were united those qualities which make the accomplished frontiersman—daring, activity, and circumspection, while he was fitted beyond most of his contemporary borderers to lead and command. Daniel Boone was born either in Virginia or Pennsylvania, and at an early age... more...

Tony Bronson was the son of a man who had made a great deal of money in a doubtful line of business by rather shady proceedings. In other words, he was not strictly honest, and had amassed a large fortune in a manner that would not bear investigation. Of this Tony, of course, was ignorant; but he inherited from his father a mean spirit and a determination to turn every circumstance to his own account.... more...