CHAPTER I The sun shone, that morning, and even from a city office window the Spring wind could be felt, sweet and keen and heady, making you feel that you wanted to be out in it, laughing, facing toward the exciting, happy things Spring was sure to be bringing you, if you only went a little way to meet them—just a little way! Marjorie Ellison, bending over a filing cabinet in a small and solitary... more...

TO MY AUDIENCE SAINTS, SINNERS, AND IN-BETWEENS Before you enter the confines of "Frenzied Finance," here spread out—for your inspection, at least; enlightenment, perhaps—halt one brief moment. If the men and things to be encountered within are real—did live or live now—you must deal with them one way. If these embodiments are but figments of my mind and pen, you must regard them from a... more...

CHAPTER ITHE OPEN PORT 'Fun!' said Ken Carrington, as he leaned over the rail of the transport, 'Cardigan Castle,' and watched the phosphorescent waters of the Aegean foaming white through the darkness against her tall side. 'Fun!' he repeated rather grimly. 'You won't think it so funny when you find yourself crawling up a cliff with quick-firers barking at you... more...

The ladies of St. James’s Go swinging to the play; Their footmen run before them With a “Stand by! Clear the way!” But Phyllida, my Phyllida! She takes her buckled shoon. When we go out a-courting Beneath the harvest moon. The ladies of St. James’s! They are so fine and fair, You’d think a box of essences Was broken in the air: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! The breath of heath and furze When... more...

NOTES ON DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. If building many houses could teach us to build them well, surely we ought to excel in this matter. Never was there such a house-building people. In other countries the laws interfere,—or customs, traditions, and circumstances as strong as laws; either capital is wanting, or the possession of land, or there are already houses enough. If a man inherit a house, he is not... more...

ATHALIA HALL stopped to get her breath and look back over the road climbing steeply up from the covered bridge. It was a little after five, and the delicate air of dawn was full of wood and pasture scents—the sweetness of bay and the freshness of dew-drenched leaves. In the valley night still hung like gauze under the trees, but the top of the hill was glittering with sunshine. "Why, we've... more...

AN UNTHANKFUL ORPHAN y name is Mary Cary. I live in the Yorkburg Female Orphan Asylum. You may think nothing happens in an Orphan Asylum. It does. The orphans are sure enough children, and real much like the kind that have Mothers and Fathers; but though they don't give parties or wear truly Paris clothes, things happen, and that's why I am going to write this story. To-day I was kept in.... more...

THE PERFECT READER On Christmas Eve, while the Perfect Reader sits in his armchair immersed in a book—so absorbed that he has let the fire go out—I propose to slip gently down the chimney and leave this tribute in his stocking. It is not a personal tribute. I speak, on behalf of the whole fraternity of writers, this word of gratitude—and envy. No one who has ever done any writing, or has any... more...

The Latest Viewpoints of Men Worth While Stuyvesant Fish Says That Americans Are Wasteful, While Pastor Wagner Praises Our National Character—John D. Rockefeller, Jr., and Professor Fagnani Discuss Joseph's Corner in Corn—Thomas F. Ryan Holds That Opportunity to Win Wealth is Necessary to Industrial Progress—Andrew Carnegie as the Financier of Spelling Reform—With Other Opinions of... more...

WILLIAM BLAKE. My antiquarian tendencies bring me acquainted with many neglected and obscure individuals connected with our earlier English literature, who, after "fretting their hour" upon life's stage, have passed away; leaving their names entombed upon the title-page of some unappreciated or crotchetty book, only to be found upon the shelves of the curious. To look for these in Kippis,... more...