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NAVAJO WEAVERS. By Dr. Washington Matthews. § I. The art of weaving, as it exists among the Navajo Indians of New Mexico and Arizona, possesses points of great interest to the student of ethnography. It is of aboriginal origin; and while European art has undoubtedly modified it, the extent and nature of the foreign influence is easily traced. It is by no means certain, still there are many reasons for...
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INTRODUCTION The title chosen by its author for this little volume would assuredly commend it to the Naval Service, even if that author's name were not—as it is—a household word with more than one generation of naval officers. But to such of the general public as are not yet familiar with Mr Thursfield's writings a brief word of introduction may perhaps be useful. For the matters herein...
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by:
Halsey Davidson
CHAPTER I A RUN TO ELMVALE When Philip Morgan announced his approach by an unusually cheerful strain, Al Torrance was already behind the steering wheel of his father's car, with the engine purring smoothly. "'Lo, Whistler," Al said. "Thought you had forgotten where we planned to go this morning. What made you so late?" "'Lo, Torry. Never hit the hay till after one....
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by:
Kelly Freas
General Wingrove looked at the rows of faces without seeing them. His vision went beyond the Congress of the United States, past the balmy June day to another day that was coming. A day when the Army would have its destined place of authority. He drew a deep breath and delivered what was perhaps the shortest speech ever heard in the hallowed halls of Congress: "The General Staff of the U.S. Army...
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by:
James Otis
THE PROJECT "I fear you are undertaking too much, Neal. When a fellow lacks two years of his majority—" "You forget that I have been my own master more than a year. Father gave me my time before he died, and that in the presence of Governor Wentworth himself." "Why before him rather than 'Squire White?" "I don't know. My good friend Andrew McCleary attended to...
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Esau Tankardew. Certainly, Mr Tankardew was not a pattern of cleanliness, either in his house or his person. Someone had said of him sarcastically, “that there was nothing clean in his house but his towels;” and there was a great deal of truth in the remark. He seemed to dwell in an element of cobwebs; the atmosphere in which he lived, rather than breathed, was apparently a mixture of fog and dust....
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“Can you make her out, Ned? My eyes are not so sharp as they used to be, and I lost sight of the craft when came on.” “She has tacked, uncle; I see her masts in one, and she’s standing to the westward.” “I was afraid so; she must be a stranger, or she would have kept her course. She’ll not weather the head as she’s now standing, and if it doesn’t clear and show her the land, she’ll...
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by:
Clarence Young
CHAPTER I THE SPY ALARM “There’s a German on the ground! Get him!” The sun glistened on scores of polished bayonets, as sturdy figures, clad in olive drab, which matched in hue the brown of the earth, sprang from their trenches and rushed forward. “Put some pep into it! Lively now! Get the Germans!” There were dull thuds, and there was a ripping, tearing sound as the steel slashed its way...
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CHAPTER I THE INSPIRATION A tall young man sped swiftly up the wide stone steps leading to the doorway of a mansion in one of Chicago's most fashionable avenues. After pushing the button sharply he jerked out his watch and guessed at the time by the dull red light from the panel in the door. Then he hastily brushed from the sleeve of his coat the telltale billiard chalk, whose presence reminded...
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PREFACE. In the Preface to the “Handbook of Art Needlework,” which I edited for the Royal School at South Kensington in 1880, I undertook to write a second part, to be devoted to design, colour, and the common-sense modes of treating decorative art, as applied especially to embroidered hangings, furniture, dress, and the smaller objects of luxury. Circumstances have, since then, obliged me to...
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