SCENE.—London. ACT I. SCENE I.—FAILER entering to BURR, who is putting on his buff-coat. Fail. What! not ready yet, man? Burr. You do not consider my voyage from Holland last night. Fail. Pish, a mere ferry; get up, get up: My cousin's maids will come and blanket thee anon; art thou not ashamed to lie a-bed so long? Burr. I may be more ashamed to rise; and so you'll say, dear heart, if... more...

The last roses of the year 1811 were in bloom in the Richmond gardens and their petals would soon be scattered broadcast by the winds which had already stripped the trees and left them standing naked against the cold sky. Cold indeed, it looked, through the small, smoky window, to the eyes of the young and beautiful woman who lay dying of hectic fever in a dark, musty room back of the shop of Mrs.... more...

CHAPTER I ON ACTIVE SERVICE "Four o'clock mornin', sah; bugle him go for revally." Dudley Wilmshurst, Second Lieutenant of the Nth West African Regiment, threw off the light coverings, pulled aside the mosquito curtains, and sat upon the edge of his cot, hardly able to realise that Tari Barl, his Haussa servant, had announced the momentous news. Doubtful whether his senses were not... more...

NOTES GRAVESEND BOATS. While so much has been said of coaches, in the early numbers of "Notes and Queries" and elsewhere, very little notice has been taken of another mode of conveyance which has now become very important. I think it may amuse some of your readers to compare a modern Gravesend boat and passage with the account given by Daniel Defoe, in the year 1724: and as it is contained in... more...

I. THIS WAY, AND THAT. The parlor blinds were shut, and all the windows of the third-story rooms were shaded; but the pantry window, looking out on a long low shed, such as city houses have to keep their wood in and to dry their clothes upon, was open; and out at this window had come two little girls, with quiet steps and hushed voices, and carried their books and crickets to the very further end,... more...

INVOCATION O Thou, who art the source of joy and light, The great Revealer of the will Divine; Thyself Divine, all nature owns Thy might, And bows in homage at a beck of Thine, Afford me light to guide my unskilled hand, And by Thy Spirit all my thoughts command. To Thy great name I dedicate my powers, Yielding to Thee what Thou with blood hast bought, Resolved that Thou shalt have my days and hours,... more...

CHAPTER I. EARLY YEARS. It will be necessary, for several reasons, to give this short sketch the form rather of a critical essay than of a biography. The data for a life of Nathaniel Hawthorne are the reverse of copious, and even if they were abundant they would serve but in a limited measure the purpose of the biographer. Hawthorne's career was probably as tranquil and uneventful a one as ever... more...

GENERAL INTRODUCTION. These articles recovered from the MSS. of De Quincey will, the Editor believes, be found of substantive value. In some cases they throw fresh light on his opinions and ways of thinking; in other cases they deal with topics which are not touched at all in his collected works: and certainly, when read alongside the writings with which the public is already familiar, will give... more...

CHAPTER I THE ARRIVAL OF THE BOY "What's the news, Uncle?" asked Miss Patricia Doyle, as she entered the cosy breakfast room of a suite of apartments in Willing Square. Even as she spoke she pecked a little kiss on the forehead of the chubby man addressed as "Uncle"—none other, if you please, than the famous and eccentric multi-millionaire known in Wall Street as John... more...

I. On a January evening of the early seventies, Christine Nilsson was singing in Faust at the Academy of Music in New York. Though there was already talk of the erection, in remote metropolitan distances "above the Forties," of a new Opera House which should compete in costliness and splendour with those of the great European capitals, the world of fashion was still content to reassemble every... more...