New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1916 All rights reserved Copyright, 1914, By the Associated Sunday Magazines. Copyright, 1915, By the National Sunday Magazine, By the Red Book Corporation, and By the Illustrated Sunday Magazine. Copyright, 1916, By the International Magazine Company. Copyright , 1916, By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1916. PAGE The Black Boar of Lonesome Water 1 The Dog That Saved the Bridge 33 The Calling of the Lop-horned Bull 53 The Aigrett

The population of Lonesome Water—some fourscore families in all—acknowledged one sole fly in the ointment of its self-satisfaction. Slowly, reluctantly, it had been brought to confess that the breed of its pigs was not the best on earth. They were small, wiry pigs, over-leisurely of growth, great feeders, yet hard to fatten; and in the end they brought but an inferior price in the far-off market town by the sea, to which their frozen, stiff-legged carcases were hauled on sleds over the winter's

The old canal lay dreaming under the autumn sun, tranquil between its green banks and its two rows of stiffly-rimmed bordering poplars. Once a busy highway for barges, it was now little more than a great drainage ditch, with swallow and dragon-flies darting and flashing over its seldom ruffled surface. Scattered here and there over the fat, green meadows beyond its containing dykes, fat cows lay lazily chewing the cud. It was a scene of unmarred peace. To the cows nothing could have seemed more

The harvest moon hung globed and honey-coloured over the glassy wilderness lake. In the unclouded radiance the strip of beach and the sand-spit jutting out from it were like slabs of pure ivory between the mirroring steel-blue of the water and the brocaded dark of the richly-foliaged shore. Behind a screen of this rich foliage—great drooping leaves of water-ash and maple—sat the figure of a man with his back against a tree, almost indistinguishable in the confusion of velvety shadows. His rifle

The Girl, sitting before her dressing-table, looked at the fair reflection in her great mirror and smiled happily. Those searching lights at either side of the mirror could find no flaw in the tender colouring of her face, in the luminous whiteness of neck and arm and bosom. Her wide-set eyes, like the red bow of her mouth, were kind and gay. The brightness of her high-coiffed hair was surmounted by a tuft of straight egret plumes, as firm, pearl-white, and delicate as a filigree of frost. The G

Stepping into the cabin, Long Jackson said: "If that there blame jam don't break inside o' twenty-four hour, the hull valley's goin' to be under water, an' I'll hev to be gittin' ye out o' this in the canoe. I've just been uncoverin' her an' rozenin' her up, an' she's as good as noo. That's a fine piece o' winter bark ye put on to her, Tom." From his bunk in the dark corner beyond the stove, Brannigan lifted his shaggy face and peered wistfully out into the sunshine with sunken but shining eyes.

Side by side, in the position in which they were accustomed to labour at the yoke—Star on the off side, Buck on the nigh—they stood waiting in the twilight beside the pasture bars. From the alder swamp behind the pasture, coolly fragrant under the first of the dew-fall, came the ethereal fluting of a hermit thrush, most tender and most poignant of all bird songs. In the vault of the pale sky—pale violet washes of thin colour over unfathomable deeps of palest green—a wide-swooping night-hawk soun

Young Stan Murray turned on his heel and went into the house for his gun. His breast boiled with pity and indignation. The hired man, coming down from the Upper Field, had just told him that two more of his sheep had been killed by the bears. The sheep were of fine stock, only lately introduced to the out-settlements, and they were Stan's special charge. These two last made seven that the bears had taken within six weeks. Stan Murray, with the robust confidence of his eighteen years, vowed that

He was a splendid bird, a thoroughbred "Black-breasted Red" game-cock, his gorgeous plumage hard as mail, silken with perfect condition, and glowing like a flame against the darkness of the spruce forest. His snaky head—the comb and wattles had been trimmed close, after the mode laid down for his aristocratic kind—was sharp and keen, like a living spear-point. His eyes were fierce and piercing, ready ever to meet the gaze of bird, or beast, or man himself, with the unwinking challenge of their f

That one stark naked side of the mountain which gave it its name of Old Bald Face fronted full south. Scorched by sun and scourged by storm throughout the centuries, it was bleached to an ashen pallor that gleamed startlingly across the leagues of sombre, green-purple wilderness outspread below. From the base of the tremendous bald steep stretched off the interminable leagues of cedar swamp, only to be traversed in dry weather or in frost. All the region behind the mountain face was an impenetra

All night the big buck rabbit—he was really a hare, but the backwoodsman called him a rabbit—had been squatting on his form under the dense branches of a young fir tree. The branches grew so low that their tips touched the snow all round him, giving him almost perfect shelter from the drift of the storm. The storm was one of icy rain, which everywhere froze instantly as it fell. All night it had been busy encasing the whole wilderness—every tree and bush and stump, and the snow in every open mea

AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "HOOF AND CLAW," ETC. Decorated cloth, illustrated, 12mo, $1.50 "Mr. Roberts knows his animals intimately and writes about them with understanding and reality."— The Continent. "Whether viewed as stories, as natural history, or as literature, young and old should lose no time in making the acquaintance of 'Neighbors Unknown.'"— N. Y. Times. "Few stories about animals have as strong a power to interest and entertain or carry as deep a conviction of their truth and reas

AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "NEIGHBORS UNKNOWN," ETC. With illustrations by Paul Bransom Ill., decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35 "Whoever loves the wilderness and its furred and feathered inhabitants is always glad to know of a new book by Charles G. D. Roberts, whose knowledge and sympathy with wild things is profound, but who never falls into that danger of humanizing his characters."— Springfield Republican. "A great deal of keen observation has evidently gone into the making of these tales ... ci

Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50 Juvenile Library $.50 "'The Backwoodsmen' shows that the writer knows the backwoods as the sailor knows the sea. Indeed, his various studies of wild life in general, whether cast in the world of short sketch or story or full-length narrative, have always secured an interested public.... Mr. Roberts possesses a keen artistic sense which is especially marked when he is rounding some story to its end. There is never a word too much, and he invariably stops when the s

Here are brought together some of Mr. London's best short stories, stories of adventure, of character, of unusual experiences in unusual places. Here will be found The Turtles of Tasman , a tale of two brothers as different in nature as it is possible for human beings to be, and raising the old question as to which got the most out of life, the one with possessions or the one with rich memories; here also The Eternity of Forms , a mystery story dealing with a crime and its expiation; here again