Shuffle

HAVING given in the previous chapter a brief account of myself—dropping now, by permission, the third person—prior to my appointment, I shall here give in full what led me to seek that appointment, and how I obtained it. It was while sitting "in his father's quiet shoeshop on Decatur Street"—as a local paper had it—that I overheard a conversation concerning the then cadet from my own district. In the course of the conversation I learned that this cadet was to graduate the following June; and that therefore a vacancy would occur. This was in the autumn of 1872, and before the election. It occurred to me that I might fill that vacancy, and I accordingly determined to make an endeavor to do so, provided the Republican nominee for Congress should be elected. He was elected. I applied for and obtained the appointment. In 1865 or 1866—I do not now remember...

The writer of this little book was once showing Westminster Abbey to a party of foreigners—they were Germans,—and after hearing something about the Abbey and the people who are either buried or commemorated there, one of them turned and said: “I can understand the pride of English people when I see a place like this.” Now, it must be remembered that this German visitor was not thinking of our wealth, or of our Empire, or of our commercial prosperity. He was thinking of the “great cloud of witnesses,” the people of our race who have gone before us, and who are gathered together, resting and remembered in our chief national church. He was thinking, too, of the wide and catholic spirit which would shut out no one who had done good service to God and man. If one who was not our own countryman could feel this so strongly, is...

It was the day. The automobile with its three passengers moved slowly along the quiet morning street. There was no need for hurry. The boy's father was soberly recalling his own war experiences, wondering how similar Tom's would be. The mother was remembering vividly fragments of films, of facsimile reports, of forgotten conversations, envisioning her son cringing pathetically in a shallow foxhole as the penultimate weapon burst into grisly glory in the dark dawn sky. Tom's own thoughts were tense, but he managed to conceal his nervousness from his parents. "We're here, son," his father announced calmly, pulling the car up to the curb. "Dear, can't we drive around the block just once?" his mother asked, her voice almost a whisper. "We're early." "No, mom," Tom said crisply. He opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Want us to go in, son?" "No thanks, Dad." "But we want...

ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK Everybody was waiting to see what the delegate from Venus looked like. And all they got for their patience was the biggest surprise since David clobbered Goliath. " Let me put it this way," Conners said paternally. "We expect a certain amount of decorum from our Washington news correspondents, and that's all I'm asking for." Jerry Bridges, sitting in the chair opposite his employer's desk, chewed on his knuckles and said nothing. One part of his mind wanted him to play it cagey, to behave the way the newspaper wanted him to behave, to protect the cozy Washington assignment he had waited four years to get. But another part of him, a rebel part, wanted him to stay on the trail of the story he felt sure was about to break. "I didn't mean to make trouble, Mr. Conners," he said casually. "It just seemed strange, all these...

E very visitor to 'the quaint old Flemish city' goes first to the Market-Place. On Saturday mornings the wide space beneath the mighty Belfry is full of stalls, with white canvas awnings, and heaped up with a curious assortment of goods. Clothing of every description, sabots and leathern shoes and boots, huge earthenware jars, pots and pans, kettles, cups and saucers, baskets, tawdry-coloured prints—chiefly of a religious character—lamps and candlesticks, the cheaper kinds of Flemish pottery, knives and forks, carpenters' tools, and such small articles as reels of thread, hatpins, tape, and even bottles of coarse scent, are piled on the stalls or spread out on the rough stones wherever there is a vacant space. Round the stalls, in the narrow spaces between them, the people move about, talking, laughing, and bargaining. Their native Flemish is the tongue they use amongst themselves; but many of them speak what passes for...

Bertha and I were like a couple of city kids on their first country outing when we arrived at Morton's place. The weather was perfect—the first chill of autumn had arrived in the form of a fine, needle-shower rain of the type that doesn't look very bad through a window, but when you get out in it, it seeks out every tiny opening between the warp and weft of your clothing and runs through your hair and eyebrows, under your collar and over the surfaces of your body until, as though directed by some knowing, invisible entity, it finds its way to your belly-button. It was beautifully timed: the ancient motor-bus had two blowouts on the way up the last half-mile of corduroy road that led to the place, and of course we were obliged to change the tires ourselves. This was a new experience for both of us, and...

I T may be fearlessly asserted that those portions of the counties of Cumberland, Westmoreland and Lancashire known as the Lake District, contain more natural beauty, more literary associations and more diversity of charm than any other similar area of the whole of the Earth’s surface. Within the small space of thirty square miles, scenes of the wildest grandeur and the most tranquil beauty exist side by side. From the grim recesses of Scawfell and Great Gable one can pass in two or three hours to the placid haunts of Windermere. The stern solitudes of Wastwater can be visited upon the same day as the peaceful shores of Derwentwater, “set like a gem amid the encircling hills.” The moors and bare corries of Scotland, the foliage-clad slopes and llyns of North Wales, the lakes and valleys of Switzerland, all have their counterpart and seem to meet in Lakeland. Indeed, the...

[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction March 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Bruckner was a man deeply imbued with a sense of his own worth. Now as he rested his broad beam on the joined arms of Sweets and Majesky, he winked to include them in a "this is necessary, but you and I see the humor of the thing" understanding. Like most thoroughly disliked men, he considered himself quite popular with "the boys." The conceited ham's enjoying this, Sweets thought, as he staggered down the aisle under the big man's weight. At the ship's entrance, he glanced out across the red-sand plain to where the natives waited. They wore little clothing, Sweets noted, except the chief. He sat on his dais—carried on the shoulders of eight of his followers—dressed in long streamers of...

The R. canon correct; Alimentary Qualities of the Oyster; Profitable Investment; Billingsgate, and London Consumption; English Oyster-beds; Jersey Oysters; French Oyster-beds on the Coast of Brittany. OF the Millions who live to eat and eat to live in this wide world of ours, how few are there who do not, at proper times and seasons, enjoy a good oyster. It may not be an ungrateful task, therefore, if I endeavour to inform them what species of animal the little succulent shell-fish is, that affords to man so much gastronomical enjoyment—how born and bred and nurtured; when, and where; and, lastly, how best it may be eaten, whether in its living and natural state, or having undergone the ordeal of cooking by the skill of a superior artist. I have oftentimes been told that it is a mere question of fastidiousness, or fashion, that oysters should be served for human food...

  THE LIFE AND SURPRISING EXPLOITS OF J A C K   S H E P P A R D . [ Jack Sheppard beating his Master. ] J ACK SHEPPARD was born in the parish of Stepney, near London, in the year 1702. His father was a Carpenter, and he died when Jack was so young, that Jack could not recollect ever seeing him. Hence the burthen of his maintenance, together with that of his brother and sister, lay upon his mother, who soon procured him admission into the workhouse, in Bishopsgate-street, where he continued for a year and a half; and, during that time, received an education sufficient to qualify him for the trade his mother designed him, viz., a carpenter: accordingly, he was recommended to Mr. Wood, in Wych-street, Drury-lane, and bound to him for seven years. The lad proved an early proficient. Being an ingenious hand,...

Westover got a shock when he stumbled onto the monster, for all that he knew one had been through here. He had been following the high ground toward the hills, alternately splashing through waist-deep water and climbing onto comparatively dry knolls. To right and left of him was the sullen noise of the river in flood, and behind him, too, the rising water he had barely escaped. The night was overcast, the moon a faint disk of glow that left river and hills and even the mud underfoot invisible. He had not sought in his mind for the flood's cause, but had merely taken it numbly as part of the fury and confusion of a world in ruin. Anyway, he was dead tired out on his feet. He sensed more than saw the looming wall before him, but he thought it the bare ledge-rock of a stripped hillside until he...

Colony Eight on the Damballa was a huddle of low plastic domes set in a clearing of the jungle. It was also the most welcome sight Jim Reese had seen in a month—the month since he'd quarreled with Lois and struck out into the jungle alone. He had covered close to a thousand miles—all the way to Colony Seven, the nearest of the 10 colonies Earth had planted on the jungle world. Now he was returning, hoping his month's absence had healed the wounds he and Lois had caused each other. She had had time to think things over. So had he—and he still loved her. He saw one of the natives straggling through the jungle toward him and grinned. It was drunken old Kuhli, a native who had been accidentally made a drug addict by a well-meaning Terran doctor. Kuhli lived in a murky fog and hung around Colony...

What the psychological processes were that led to my enlisting in "Kitchener's Army" need not be inquired into. Few men could explain why they enlisted, and if they attempted they might only prove that they had done as a politician said the electorate does, the right thing from the wrong motive. There is a story told of an incident that occurred in Flanders, which shows clearly the view held in certain quarters. The Honourable Artillery Company were relieving some regulars in the trenches when the following dialogue ensued between a typical Tommy Atkins and an H.A.C. private: T.A.: "Oo are you?" H.A.C.: "We're the H.A.C." T.A.: "Gentlemen, ain't yer?" H.A.C.: "Oh well, in a way I suppose—" T.A.: "'Ow many are there of yer?" H.A.C.: "About eight hundred." T.A.: "An' they say yer volunteered!" H.A.C.: "Yes, we did." T.A.: (With conviction as he gathers together his kit). "Blimey, yer must...

Here's what happens when two Master Spies tangle ... and stay that way! "Nothing, nothing to get upset about," Pashkov said soothingly, taking his friend's arm as they came out of the villa forty miles from Moscow. Pashkov looked like a roly-poly zoo attendant leading a tame bear. "Erase his memory, give him a new name and feed him more patriotism. Very simple." Medvedev raised his hand threateningly. "Don't come howling to me if everybody guesses he is nothing but a robot." Pashkov glanced back at the house. Since the publication of Dentist Amigovitch , this house had become known all over the world as Boris Knackenpast's villa. Now the house was guarded by a company of soldiers to keep visitors out. From an open window Pashkov heard the clicking of a typewriter. "It's when they're not like robots that everybody suspects them," he said, climbing into his flier. "Petchareff...

[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories December 1948. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "There you are!" Judson Taylor, the eccentric physics prof, pulled a metallic object out of his pocket and laid it on the table between us. The object was a solid chunk of some kind of metal, judging from its bright silver color, about the size and shape of a pocket knife. I looked at it stupidly and said, " Where are we?" I am Bill Halley. Some of the adolescent undergraduate brats at this one-horse college have nicknamed me "Comet" and it burns me up every time some pimply-faced baby waves his arm at me and says, "Hiya, Comet." But I smile and don't let them know I don't like it, because if they knew there would be no living with them. Jud...

To the inhabitants of London and its suburbs a history of Hampstead and the Heath may seem wholly unnecessary. What London lad who has not fished in and skated on its ponds, played truant in its subrural fields and lanes, gone bird-nesting in its woods, or spent delightful, orthodox half-holidays upon the heath? As for the free brotherhood of the lanes and alleys before the plague of Board schools afflicted them, or the Board of Works stood sponsor for the preservation of the Heath, what hand’s breadth (of its mile-wide waste) of its hundreds of acres was there that they did not know and continue to renew acquaintance with on every recurrence of the high festivals of Easter and Whitsuntide? But it is not of ‘’Appy ’Amstead’ that I am about to write, but of that older Hampstead the materials for the history of which lie scattered through many books...

  BY CHARLES P. BOWDITCH (From the American Anthropologist ( N. S. ), Vol. 3, October-December, 1901) NEW YORK G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 1901 ON THE AGE OF MAYA RUINS By CHARLES P. BOWDITCH The inscription lately discovered in Chichen Itza by Edward H. Thompson, United States Consul at Merida, is of more than passing interest. It contains an Initial Series of glyphs, which, so far as I know, gives the only initial date that has been found in the northern part of Yucatan. Although it may be a matter of doubt on what date the long count declared by the Initial Series began, yet, if we assume that the majority of the initial dates refer to the time when the buildings or stelæ on which the dates occur were erected (and this assumption seems altogether probable), we can at least decide on the relative age of the ruined cities...

Concerning the Birth and Education of Dr. Gervaas Van Varken, and his Loathing and Abhorrence of the whole Human Race—How he met an Ancient Parsee merchant in Bombay, and got an introduction to the Great Magician of Thibet—How he went to Thibet; what he learned there, and how he departed from it. [Mr. Gervaas Van Varken was a tradesman who flourished on the Boomptjes of Rotterdam in the early years of the last century. His business was that of a ship-chandler—for so we may approximately translate the inscription, ‘ Koopman en Touwwerk en andere Scheepsbehoeften ,’ which appeared at the side of his door. Van Varken drove a tolerably brisk trade, and, being of extremely miserly habits, succeeded in accumulating a respectable amount of capital. He was a man of very morose and sulky disposition, and, when he had reached the period of middle age, married a Vrouw who was...

Since the United States began to be there never was such a post as Fort Philip Kearney, commonly called Fort Phil Kearney. [3] From its establishment, in 1866, to its abandonment, some two years later, it was practically in a state of siege. I do not mean that it was beleaguered by the Indians in any formal, persistent investment, but it was so constantly and so closely observed by war parties, hidden in the adjacent woods and the mountain passes, that there was little safety outside its stockade for anything less than a company of infantry or a troop of cavalry; and not always, as we shall see, for those. Rarely in the history of the Indian wars of the United States have the Indians, no matter how preponderant in force, conducted a regular siege, Pontiac’s investment of Detroit being almost unique in that particular. But they literally surrounded Fort...

I desire to say what follows, in all earnestness, to my fellow-countrymen who have been, through God’s goodness, baptized into the Church of England.  I shall be thankful, also, if others will patiently consider what is here set down. There can be no question that, in old times, God was pleased to set up a visible token, whereby the world might be convinced of His power and love.  And this token was also a witness to God’s Truth.  No one doubts that the Jewish Church and nation were the witnesses of God ; and that they were His witnesses by His own express appointment.  It is equally allowed, on all hands, that the Jewish Church and nation failed in their witness.  They failed—not because the need of witnessing had been taken away; or their authority to witness had been loosened.  But they failed, because, having the power of choice free—to...

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, TO WIT: Be it remembered , That on this tenth day of November, Anno Domini, eighteen hundred and thirty-one, Thomas R. Gray of the said District, deposited in this office the title of a book, which is in the words as following: "The Confessions of Nat Turner, the leader of the late insurrection in Southampton, Virginia, as fully and voluntarily made to Thomas R. Gray, in the prison where he was confined, and acknowledged by him to be such when read before the Court of Southampton; with the certificate, under seal, of the Court convened at Jerusalem, November 5, 1831, for his trial. Also, an authentic account of the whole insurrection, with lists of the whites who were murdered, and of the negroes brought before the Court of Southampton, and there sentenced, &c" the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in conformity with an Act of Congress,...

In this book of instruction, I have introduced for practice the easiest braids first—which are chain braids. The first pattern, found on page 9 , is a very easy and handsome one, and should be practiced to perfection before trying any other, as it will enable the beginner to execute all others after the first is perfected. A new beginner should be particular to place the strands correctly upon the table, and mark the cover with precision, after the manner shown in the diagram. I have, by the introduction of plates, diagrams and explanatory remarks, made comprehensive and simple the execution of all the braids herein contained. The novice should first give special attention to preparing the hair for braiding, the adjustment of it to the bobbins, weights, molds, &c., of which plates, and full explanations are to be found elsewhere in this book. I wish to impress upon the...

Internal Economy. — Fishing-Parties, — Rumours of Pirates. — News of an Illanoon Squadron. — A floating Menagerie. — An Encounter with Pirates.—The “ Hyacinth ” searches for Pirates, — A War-fleet heard of. — Quedah Politics. — We are required to aid the Siamese, — Rapid Equipment of Pirate Fleet.— The Malays are warned of the coming Retribution, — Captain Warren visits the Pirate Fleet. — Arrangements are made to equip a Flotilla, — The “IIya- cinth” and Gun-boats off Quedah.— My Gun-boat and Crew.— The Coxswain's Excitability, —The Interpreter's Appearance. Tue Captain has gone ashore to take up his quarters with the Governor; the second lieutenant says it is his duty to be out of the ship as much as possible in harbour, and has gone to carry his theory into practice. Those of the subordinate officers who are blest with funds, go on shore to hire horses,...

"BUT didn't you feel anything , Javo?" Strain was apparent in every line of Tula's taut, bare body. "Nothing at all?" "Nothing whatever." The one called Javo relaxed from his rigid concentration. "Nothing has changed. Nor will it." "That conclusion is indefensible!" Tula snapped. "With the promised return of the Masters there must and will be changes. Didn't any of you feel anything?" Her hot, demanding eyes swept the group; a group whose like, except for physical perfection, could be found in any nudist colony. No one except Tula had felt a thing. "That fact is not too surprising," Javo said finally. "You have the most sensitive receptors of us all. But are you sure?" "I am sure. It was the thought-form of a living Master." "Do you think that the Master perceived your web?" "It is certain. Those who built us are stronger than we." "That is true. As...

I was born on the 17th of November, 1828, in the village of Nam Ping (South Screen) which is about four miles southwest of the Portuguese Colony of Macao, and is situated on Pedro Island lying west of Macao, from which it is separated by a channel of half a mile wide. I was one of a family of four children. A brother was the eldest, a sister came next, I was the third, and another brother was the fourth and the youngest of the group. I am the only survivor of them all. As early as 1834, an English lady, Mrs. Gutzlaff, wife of the Rev. Charles Gutzlaff, a missionary to China, came to Macao and, under the auspices of the Ladies’ Association in London for the promotion of female education in India and the East, immediately took up the work of her mission by starting a girls’ school...

There was a stunned sensation in Downey's head as he slowly regained consciousness. He had the feeling of one who has been drugged, or sandbagged; and for a moment he could not quite recall where he was or what had happened to him. He was only aware of a dull, hammering sound from somewhere in the distance; and aware also of the aching pain and the stiffness in every joint and muscle of his body. It seemed to him at first that his eyelids were glued together, and would never open; and when at length he forced them apart, he realized that he was in darkness, except for a faint light that slowly widened at the further end of a narrow gallery. A low moan from just ahead of him caused him to reach out; and, more by feeling than by sight, he recognized the slim form sprawled full-length on...

Skating on ice is the best sport in the world. It is also the best method in the world for developing grace of carriage, supple muscles and fine health through a fascinating exercise. I have tried all the various sports, including swimming, fencing, dancing, tennis and mountain climbing, and there is none to compare with ice skating. Strange as it may seem, ice skating will both reduce fat and add fat; if mildly followed as a regular exercise it will stimulate appetite, digestion and that zest in life which makes for healthy, rounded physique without superfluous fat. If persisted in vigorously, it will reduce flabby fat into smooth muscle. It is especially good for the reduction of fat around the waist and hips. Skating to music is the most rhythmic of all exercises and far surpasses dancing in enjoyment and benefit. Dancing generally implies the need of a partner who...

The landing on the green planet, Koosh told himself in satisfaction, was one of utmost perfection. Not that that made it unusual, since the Martian craft all but handled itself and invariably performed almost one hundred per cent flawlessly. But Koosh did feel that this landing was a little, just a little, better than average, and his ability as pilot had made it so. Thuko apparently thought the same, for he touched the other on the back of the neck in brief compliment. Twirling his eye-stalks in pleasure, Koosh pressed a button on the control panel and arose to follow Thuko to the opening airlock, hopping on one leg, which happened to be all that he or any Martian possessed. They emerged into warm, late summer air. For a moment they stood, filling their lungs, reveling in the rich, heady atmosphere that was so unlike their own. "Wonderful, Thuko!" Koosh...

After finishing my studies in Scotland I visited London at the end of the autumn of 1864 for the purpose of appearing before the examining board of the Apothecaries’ Hall, when I found myself the guest of a brother-in-law, a popular non-conformist preacher in one of the populous suburbs of that city. During my stay with him I happened to hear one evening that an emigrant ship appointed to sail next day to Port Natal would most probably be detained by the sudden illness of the surgeon superintendent who had governmental charge. The vacancy was offered to me on condition that I should at once pass the official examination required of every medical man before he can be legally entrusted with the care of government emigrants. Early next morning, therefore, I appeared before Mr. Le Gros Clark, the appointed examiner, and successfully passing this extra examination joined on the same...

It was the lack of sense in the ad that made him go back to it again. He was having his breakfast coffee in the cafeteria next to the midtown hotel where he lived. The classified section of the New York Times was spread before him. WANTED: Live wire Real Estate broker—No selling—30-40. Room 657 Silvers Building—9-12 Monday morning. The ad made no sense for several reasons. One: you just don't go around advertising for brokers with four pages of them in the classified phone book. Two: how can one be a live wire broker, without having to sell? Kevin Muldoon shook his head. Just no damn sense. The Silvers Building—H'm! Not too far off. He looked at his strap watch. Fifteen minutes of nine. He could walk it in that time. "Don't be a fool," he said to himself. "It's obviously a come-on of some kind." He got up,...

Jerom speaking of the different manner which writers found themselves obliged to use, in their controversial, and dogmatical writings, intimates, that in controversy whose end was victory, rather than truth, it was allowable to employ every artifice which would best serve to conquer an adversary; in proof of which "Origen, says he, Methodius, Eusebius, Apollinaris, have written many thousands of lines against Celsus, and Porphyry: consider with what arguments and what slippery problems they baffle what was contrived against them by the spirit of the devil: and because they are sometimes forced to speak, they speak not what they think, but what is necessary against those who are called Gentiles. I do not mention the Latin writers, Tertullian, Cyprian, Minutius, Victorinus, Lactantius, Hilarius, lest I be thought not so much defending myself, as accusing others, &c." Op. Tom. 4. p. 2. p.:256. Middleton's Free Enquiry, p. 158. It is remarkable...

"There will be a great many changes, Ned," Cynthia Jackson said. She stared out the viewport at the little green world which the contact rocket Star Mist was swiftly approaching on warp-drive. Her husband co-pilot nodded, remembering Clifton and Helen Sweeney, and the Sweeney youngsters. Remembering with a smile Tommy Sweeney's kite-flying antics, his freckles and mischievous eyes—a tow-headed kid of ten with an Irish sense of humor, sturdily planted in a field of alien corn five thousand light years from Earth. Sowing and reaping and bringing in the sheaves, in the blue light of a great double sun, his dreams as vibrant with promise as the interstellar warp-drive which, a century ago, had brought the first prospect ship from Earth to the stars. He'd be a man grown now, as sturdy as his dad. You could almost take that for granted. And his sister would be a willowy girl...

Markten flew low over the sun-lit ruins, and wondered idly if he would find any more in them than he had found elsewhere on the planet. "Looks as completely dead as all the rest," he said to his companion. "New City has a big enough population anyhow, as far as I'm concerned. Not that it's important, I suppose. There's always plenty of space in which to expand, but you know what I mean." The younger occupant of the low-circling aircraft nodded his understanding. "There'd be enough room on either side of the Big Mountains to take care of millions more of us, I guess. But I think you're right. Anyway, there isn't another nomad or ruin-dweller on the planet. New City is as complete as it's going to be—and as you say, twelve million is enough. But do you think we'll find any more plans down there?" "Hard to say,"...

THE twenty-second of June, of the year 2001, was Miriam Mayne’s birthday—her twenty-first. She and her father, Terence Mayne, the billionaire contractor, had arranged to meet at the Long Island house for dinner. After an early breakfast, she kissed him good-by; he went down-town to business, and she to her room, to put on her traveling dress. A glorious day it was! When the tall girl stepped from the window of her room on to the balcony, the sun embraced her graceful figure as if it loved her; the perfume of flowers rose up like incense; two humming-birds, busy with the morning-glories, buzzed a welcome; the air was warm but exhilarating. She mounted to the wide parapet of the balcony and stood poised for a moment before starting on her journey. She was clad in a dove-colored suit of a tunic and trousers to the knee, fitting snugly, but allowing...

THE SQUADRON SAILS. When, in the latter end of the summer of the year 1739, it was foreseen that a war with Spain was inevitable, it was the opinion of several considerable persons, then trusted with the administration of affairs, that the most prudent step the nation could take, on the breaking out of the war, was attacking that Crown in her distant settlements. It was from the first determined that George Anson, Esquire, then captain of the "Centurion", should be employed as commander-in-chief of an expedition of this kind. The squadron, under Mr. Anson, was intended to pass round Cape Horn into the South Seas, and there to range along the coast, cruising upon the enemy in those parts, and attempting their settlements. On the 28th of June, 1740, the Duke of Newcastle, Principal Secretary of State, delivered to him His Majesty's instructions. On the receipt of these, Mr....

One glorious morning in June 1875, I, with the true holiday feeling at heart, for the world was all before me, stepped on board the Rustchuk steamer at Buda-Pest, intending to go down the Danube as far as Basiash. Your express traveller, whose aim it is to get to the other end of everywhere in the shortest possible time, will take the train instead of the boat to Basiash, and there catch up the steamer, saving fully twelve hours on the way. This time the man in a hurry is not so far wrong; the Danube between Buda-Pest and the defile of Kasan is almost devoid of what the regular tourist would call respectable scenery. There are few objects of interest, except the mighty river itself. Now the steamer has its advantages over the train, for surely nowhere in this locomotive world can a man more thoroughly enjoy "sweetly doing...

SPAIN IN DECADENCE BY MARTIN HUME EDITOR OF THE CALENDARS OF SPANISH STATE PAPERS (PUBLIC RECORD OFFICE) LECTURER IN SPANISH HISTORY AND LITERATURE PEMBROKE COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. Vuestras augustisinas Soberanias vivan , O GRAN FELIPE, inclitamente triunfantes, gravadas en los Anales de la Fama, pues sois sólida columna y mobil Atlante de la Fe, unica defensa di la iglesia, y bien universal de vuestras invencibles reinos LONDON EVELEIGH NASH 1907 PREFACE "I lighted upon great files and heaps of papers and writings of all sorts.... In searching and turning over whereof, whilst I laboured till I sweat again, covered all over with dust, to gather fit matter together ... that noble Lord died, and my industry began to flag and wax cold in the business." Thus wrote William Camden with reference to his projected life of Lord Burghley, which was never written; and the words may be applied not inappropriately to...

Freddy the Fish glanced at the folded newspaper beside him on the bench. A little one-column headline caught his eye: MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS FROM OUTER SPACE "Probably from Cygnus," he said. Freddy mashed a peanut, popped the meat into his mouth, and tossed the shell to the curb in front of his bench. He munched and idly watched two sparrows arguing over the discarded delicacy; the victor flitted to the head of a statue, let go a triumphant dropping onto the marble nose, and hopped to a nearby branch. "Serves him right," Freddy said. He yawned and rubbed the stubble on his chin. Not yet long enough for scissors, he decided. He pulled his feet up on the bench, twisting in an effort to get comfortable. The sun was in his eyes, so he reclaimed the discarded newspaper and spread it over his face. His eyes momentarily focused on MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS...

The Pageant of the Road.—Canterbury Pilgrims.—Henry II. barefoot.—Choosing the Road.—Wind on the Hill.—Wine in the Valley.— Pilgrim's Progress. —Shalford Fair.—A doubtful Mile.—Trespassers will be Prosecuted.—With Chaucer from the Tabard. East and west through the county of Surrey runs the chalk ridge of the North Downs, the great highway of Southern England from the Straits of Dover to Salisbury Plain. Of all English roads, it has carried the longest pageant. It saw the beginnings of English history; for four centuries it was one of the best known highways in Christendom: the vision from its windy heights is one of the widest and most gracious of all visions of woods and fields and hills. By the trackway they made upon the ridge came the worshippers to Stonehenge; Phœnician traders brought bronze to barter for British tin, and the tin was carried in ingots from Devon and Cornwall along the highway to the...

Irruption of Northern people upon the Roman territories—Visigoths—Barbarians called in by Stilicho—Vandals in Africa—Franks and Burgundians give their names to France and Burgundy—The Huns—Angles give the name to England—Attila, king of the Huns, in Italy—Genseric takes Rome—The Lombards. The people who inhabit the northern parts beyond the Rhine and the Danube, living in a healthy and prolific region, frequently increase to such vast multitudes that part of them are compelled to abandon their native soil, and seek a habitation in other countries. The method adopted, when one of these provinces had to be relieved of its superabundant population, was to divide into three parts, each containing an equal number of nobles and of people, of rich and of poor. The third upon whom the lot fell, then went in search of new abodes, leaving the remaining two-thirds in possession of their native country. These migrating masses destroyed the Roman empire...

All sorts of things come in on a space freighter. Even in the old days grocers were always finding twenty-foot pythons curled cozily inside bunches of bananas from South America; and what sort of undesired stowaways do you suppose you get when you have a cargo of tongarus from south Venus, agatized Fyella corymbs from the district around Aphrodition, hand-painted lumigraphs on goor fiber made in Marsport prefecture, and golden rhnx jewelry from the canal centers? George Saunders, supercargo of the S.S. Trito , gave his wife a warm kiss on the cheek. "For Pete's sake," he hissed into her ear, "act like you're glad to see me, can't you? The Old Man's watching us." Marta Saunders hesitated a moment and then threw her plump body into her husband's arms. "Oooh, Georgie!" she squealed. "You sweet old thing! It's so wonderful to see you again!" "That's enough," George rumbled warningly....

Gordy survived the Three-Hour War, even though Detroit didn't; he was on his way to Washington, with his blueprints and models in his bag, when the bombs struck. He had left his wife behind in the city, and not even a trace of her body was ever found. The children, of course, weren't as lucky as that. Their summer camp was less than twenty miles away, and unfortunately in the direction of the prevailing wind. But they were not in any pain until the last few days of the month they had left to live. Gordy managed to fight his way back through the snarled, frantic airline controls to them. Even though he knew they would certainly die of radiation sickness, and they suspected it, there was still a whole blessed week of companionship before the pain got too bad. That was about all the companionship Gordy had for the...

Introduction of myself to the reader—To the service—Who would not be a Soldier?—A recruit—Wilkie—Cupid’s Row-dow—The service endangered by another—Arrival at Liverpool—I am made prisoner, but not by the French—Recaptured by our sergeant—Lichfield round-house—St. Paul’s—I join my regiment, and the regiment joins us—Great numbers of rank and file burnt alive. It has ever been the fashion in story telling to begin, I believe, with the birth of the hero, and as I do not forget, for a moment, that I am my own, I can only modestly say with young Norval I am, I was born at the town of Mount Mellick, Queen’s County, Ireland, on the 26th October, 1788. When I was seven years old my father removed to Dublin, where he had been appointed to the situation of tide waiter. As soon as I became a good sized youth, my father bound me apprentice to a cabinet-maker, in King...

Simon Grover always felt like a goldfish in a coptercab. The plexiglass bubble afforded full 360 degree vision, but people could also see you from the crowded traffic lanes above a big city. "Hurry," said Simon Grover, a small, energetic man with close-set hazel eyes and a stubborn chin. "I'm hurrying," the pilot told him with frustrating indifference. In another few moments he would be safe. He squirmed around and saw another copter rise above the express lane and close the gap between them. It had never been this close before. The aquamarine roof of the Marriage Building loomed ahead, then swelled up at them. The other copter buzzed closer. "Don't see any landing space," the pilot said laconically. Simon squinted down anxiously. The copters were lined up in neat but crowded rows on the rooftop, with hardly more than walking space between them. "Hover," Simon pleaded. "I'll jump." "I...

N OW , the very first book was called "Infancy"; and, having finished it, I closed it with a bang! I was just twelve. 'Tis thus the twelve-year-old is apt to close most books. Within those pages—perhaps some day to be opened to the kindly inquiring eye—lie the records of a quiet life, stirred at intervals by spasms of infantile intensity. There are more days than one in a life that can be written of, and when the clock strikes twelve the day is but half over. The clock struck twelve! We children had been watching and waiting for it. The house had been stripped bare; many cases of goods were awaiting shipment around Cape Horn to California. California! A land of fable! We knew well enough that our father was there, and had been for two years or more; and that we were at last to go to him,...

No single factor is more important to the strength of our democracy than the free flow of accurate information about the government’s operations. The citizen in a democracy must know what his government is doing, or he will lack the soundest basis for judging the candidates and the platforms of our political parties. Our elected officials are given only a temporary grant of power, and only a temporary custody of government property and government records. Neither the President nor those he appoints have any royal prerogative; they have only a limited right to steer our government within the framework of the Constitution and the laws. It is well to remember that every withholding of government business from the public is an encroachment upon the democratic principle that government officials are accountable to the people. It follows that citizens should regard all governmental secrecy with some suspicion as an encroachment on...

In an endeavour to trace the Inquisition to its source it is not necessary to go as far back into antiquity as went Paramo; nor yet is it possible to agree with him that God Himself was the first inquisitor, that the first “Act of Faith” was executed upon Adam and Eve, and that their expulsion from Eden is a proper precedent for the confiscation of the property of heretics. 1 Nevertheless, it is necessary to go very far back indeed; for it is in the very dawn of Christianity that the beginnings of this organization are to be discovered. There is no more lamentable lesson to be culled from history than that contained in her inability to furnish a single instance of a religion accepted with unquestioning sincerity and fervour which did not, out of those very qualities, beget intolerance. It would seem that only when a faith has...

The planet itself was tough enough—barren, desolate, forbidding; enough to stop the most adventurous and dedicated. But they had to run head-on against a mad genius who had a motto: Death to all Terrans! "Let's keep moving," I told Val. "The surest way to die out here on Mars is to give up." I reached over and turned up the pressure on her oxymask to make things a little easier for her. Through the glassite of the mask, I could see her face contorted in an agony of fatigue. And she probably thought the failure of the sandcat was all my fault, too. Val's usually about the best wife a guy could ask for, but when she wants to be she can be a real flying bother. It was beyond her to see that some grease monkey back at the Dome was at fault—whoever it was who had failed to...

HER RESOURCES AND ADVANTAGES.   Issued under the Auspices of the Montgomery Real Estate Agents’ Association, Composed of the following Firms, 1888. ILLUSTRATED AND PRINTED BY THE SOUTH PUBLISHING COMPANY, 76 PARK PLACE, N. Y. STATE CAPITOL AND SOLDIERS’ MONUMENT. MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA. The year 1865 saw Montgomery an utterly exhausted little town of some six thousand people, with three broken-down railroads. The year 1888 finds her a city of 30,000 people, with six well-equipped railroads. Her sole resource was trade with the cotton planters of the surrounding country, and such enterprise as men might exhibit who started life over without a dollar. This difference between 1865 and 1888 is stated to show the discerning reader that there is a source of wealth here, and that the people have utilized it as fast as they could accumulate capital to develop it. Unaided by the influx of capital and enterprise from the...

I knew that John Cunningham had been warned on graduation day that no man with a romantic nature should specialize in gynecology. John was not only a romanticist; he was also the best looking intern north of the equator. The laws of probability functioned. Within three years, John Cunningham was married, divorced, disgraced and flat broke. And so it was that the winsome, six-foot, blonde-headed nurse's idol of the flashing smile and brilliant mind, approached life with three strangely related goals, namely: (1) To practice medicine successfully without (2) coming in contact with his patients, and yet (3) make back the family fortune he had squandered mixing potions with poetry. In a much less interesting way, I, too, was diverted from an otherwise promising career in the practice of conventional 21st Century medicine. My final exam before the board revealed an aptitude that landed me a fat offer from the...

The title of this book needs a word of explanation, since each of its terms can legitimately be used to denote more than one conception both of time and place. "The East" is understood widely and vaguely nowadays to include all the continent and islands of Asia, some part of Africa--the northern part where society and conditions of life are most like the Asiatic--and some regions also of South-Eastern and Eastern Europe. Therefore it may appear arbitrary to restrict it in the present book to Western Asia. But the qualifying term in my title must be invoked in justification. It is the East not of to-day but of antiquity with which I have to deal, and, therefore, I plead that it is not unreasonable to understand by "The East" what in antiquity European historians understood by that term. To Herodotus and his contemporary Greeks Egypt, Arabia and India were the...

A night wondrously clear and of a colour unknown to our climate; a place of dreamlike aspect, fraught with mystery. The moon of a bright silver, which dazzles by its shining, illumines a world which surely is no longer ours; for it resembles in nothing what may be seen in other lands. A world in which everything is suffused with rosy color beneath the stars of midnight, and where granite symbols rise up, ghostlike and motionless. Is that a hill of sand that rises yonder? One can scarcely tell, for it has as it were no shape, no outline; rather it seems like a great rosy cloud, or some huge, trembling billow, which once perhaps raised itself there, forthwith to become motionless for ever. . . . And from out this kind of mummified wave a colossal human effigy emerges, rose-coloured too, a nameless, elusive rose; emerges, and stares with...

It started with a load of potatoes. Joe Loftus and I were driving the big semi-trailer back from Montauk that night after delivering a load of fishing gear to one of the big resorts out there and wondering if we'd be able to pick up a truckload of anything on the way back to increase the take when Joe spotted this sign. It was one of those standard hand-painted Return Load signs, so we pulled in and I climbed down from the cab while Joe remained behind the wheel, ready to roll if they had nothing for us. The sun was going down in a bank of heavy black clouds. I figured it might rain before the trip was over. I went over to the door of the farm house and knocked. Pretty soon I heard footsteps inside and a man chewing a mouthful of his supper opened the door...

AUTHOR OF "Invisible Light, or the Electric Theory of Creation," "The Cities of the Sun," Etc., Etc. The universe is a vast electric machine or organism creating its own cosmic force, lighting and heating itself from its own latent electric fires, and bound together by invisible electric bands pulling and guiding with the swiftness of lightning, and the power and wisdom of Omnipotence. —From " The Cities of the Sun ." G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY Publishers New York Copyright, 1903 by George Woodward Warder Issued February, 1904 The Universe a Vast Electric Organism CONTENTS This volume is intended to further elucidate my theories of electrical creation, to cover some points lightly touched upon in my previous books; also to bring forward to date the most recent scientific facts and discoveries tending to show that the universe is a vast electric machine or organism. This is the electrical age of the...

I have ventured, my dear Lumsden, to address you in, and inscribe to you, these pages. Within your hospitable walls my project of African travel was matured, in the fond hope of submitting, on return, to your friendly criticism, the record of adventures in which you took so warm an interest. Dis aliter visum! Still I would prove that my thoughts are with you, and thus request you to accept with your wonted bonhommie this feeble token of a sincere good will. Averse to writing, as well as to reading, diffuse Prolegomena, the author finds himself compelled to relate, at some length, the circumstances which led to the subject of these pages. In May 1849, the late Vice-Admiral Sir Charles Malcolm, formerly Superintendent of the Indian Navy, in conjunction with Mr. William John Hamilton, then President of the Royal Geographical Society of Great Britain, solicited the permission of the Court...

T HE earliest tales of the foundation of Prague are as those of most very ancient cities—entirely mythical. Here, as elsewhere, very ancient legends and traditions take the place of genuine history. Yet a notice of such ancient towns that ignored these legends would be valueless. It is almost certain that the earliest inhabited spot within the precincts of the present city of Prague was the hill on the right bank of the Vltava or Moldau, known as the Vysehrad (‘higher castle’ or Acropolis). It is also probable that the ‘higher castle’ was from a very early date the residence of a prince who ruled over part of Bohemia, and the very ancient legend that refers to the Vysehrad as the residence of Krok or Crocus, the earliest Sovereign of Bohemia, is no doubt founded on this fact. Krok is said to have left no son, but three daughters, Kázi,...

Early in November, 1915, I sailed from New York to Rotterdam. I spent nearly a month in Holland completing my preparations, and at length one grey winter morning I took the step that I dreaded. I had left Germany six months before with a feeling that to enter it again and get safely out was hopeless, foolish, dangerous, impossible. But at any rate I was going to try. At Zevenaar, while the Dutch customs officials were examining my baggage, I patronised the youth selling apple cakes and coffee, for after several months' absence from Germany my imagination had been kindled to contemplate living uncomfortably on short rations for some time as the least of my troubles. Furthermore, the editorial opinion vouchsafed in the Dutch newspaper which I had bought at Arnhem was that Austria's reply to the "Ancona" Note made a break with America almost a certainty. Consequently as the...

LONDON, Printed by E. Tyler , and R. Holt , for Nath. Brooke , at the Angel in Corn-Hill , near the Royal Exchange. 1671. A QUEENS DELIGHT OF Conserves, and Preserves, Candying and Distilling To preserve white Pear Plums, or green. To preserve Grapes To preserve Quinces white. To preserve Respass. To preserve Pippins. To preserve fruits green. To preserve Oranges and Lemons the best way. An approved Conserve for a Cough or Consumption of the Lungs. To make conserve of Any of these Fruits. To dry any Fruits after they are preserved, to or Candy them. To preserve Artichokes young, green Walnuts and Lemons, and the To preserve Quinces white or red. To preserve Grapes. To preserve Pippins, Apricoks, Pear-Plums and Peaches when they are To preserve Pippins, Apricocks, Pear-Plums, or Peaches green. To dry Pippins, or Pears without Sugar. To make Syrup of Clove-gilly flowers. To make...

The dull October afternoon was rapidly drawing to a close as I passed through the village of Pinhoe, and set my steps rather wearily toward Exeter. I had conceived the idea, some time before, of walking from London to Torquay, partly because I felt the need of the exercise and fresh air, and partly because I wanted to do some sketching in the southwest counties. Perhaps had I realized, when I started out, what manner of adventure would befall me in the neighborhood of the town of Exeter, I should have given that place a wide berth. As matters now stood, my chief concern at the moment was to decide whether or not I could reach there before the impending storm broke. For a time I had thought of spending the night at the inn at Pinhoe, but, after a careful examination of the wind-swept sky and the masses of...

by Author of Johnstone of the Border , Prescott of Saskatchewan , etc. With Frontispiece in Colors Grosset & Dunlap Publishers New York 1917 It was getting dark, and a keen wind blew across the ragged pines beside the track, when Jake Foster walked up and down the station at Gardner's Crossing in North Ontario. Winter was moving southwards fast across the wilderness that rolled back to Hudson's Bay, silencing the brawling rivers and calming the stormy lakes, but the frost had scarcely touched the sheltered valley yet and the roar of a rapid throbbed among the trees. The sky had the crystal clearness that is often seen in northern Canada, but a long trail of smoke stretched above the town, and the fumes of soft coal mingled with the aromatic smell of the pines. Gardner's Crossing stood, an outpost of advancing industry, on the edge of the lonely woods....

This book is intended as a supplement to the “Century Cook Book,” hence no general rules for cooking are given. It is a book of illustrated receipts, a cook’s picture-book, intended to be very useful in the way of suggestion. It is arranged so that housekeepers may more readily make up a menu, often a difficult task, or may easily find new dishes to vary the routine of the daily fare. Instead of various menus, which are impracticable because they seldom suit the convenience of the moment, lists of dishes are given which can be quickly read over and those suitable for the occasion selected. These lists are placed at the heads of the sections, each section representing a single course, and each list comprising a number of dishes, any one of which is suitable for that course. The receipts will meet the requirements of luncheons, but the majority of...

One moment he was piloting a fast plane over dangerous green jungles ... and the next Eddie was wide awake and peering through the gloom. Across the room Rags was whining softly and sniffing the damp night air that rolled in through the open window. The Scotty was excited, Eddie saw, and it must be something out of the ordinary for Rags' whimpering carried an undercurrent of perplexity and fear ... and the dog wasn't a coward. The boy called softly to him, but Rags, after tossing back a swift glance of recognition, put his forefeet up on the sill and peered, muttering, out across the pastures. Eddie slipped from his bed and padded over to the window. As he comfortingly ruffed the fur behind the Scottie's ears, he listened intently at the night. At first he heard only the ordinary country sounds—roosters crowing over at the next farm, the...

T HE information, which has come down to us respecting the early life of the only Englishman, who ever sat on the papal throne, is so defective and scanty, as easily to be comprised in a few paragraphs. Nicholas Breakspere was born near St. Albans, most probably about the close of the 11th century. His father was a clergyman, who became a monk in the monastery of that city, while his son was yet a boy. Owing to extreme poverty, Nicholas could not pay for his education, and was obliged to attend the school of the monks on charity. [1] This circumstance would seem to have put his father so painfully to the blush, that he took an unnatural dislike to his son; whom he shortly compelled by his threats and reproaches to flee the neighbourhood in a state of utter destitution. Thus cruelly cast on the world, Nicholas to...

When the fathers of the present generation were young men, and George the Third ruled the land, they imagined that the whole interior of Africa was one howling wilderness of burning sand, roamed over by brown tribes in the north and south, and by black tribes—if human beings there were—on either side of the equator, and along the west coast. The maps then existing afforded them no information. Of the Mountains of the Moon they knew about as much as of the mountains in the moon. The Nile was not explored—its sources unknown—the course of the Niger was a mystery. They were aware that the elephant, rhinoceros, cameleopard, zebra, lion and many other strange beasts ranged over its sandy deserts; but very little more about them than the fact of their existence was known. They knew that on the north coast dwelt the descendants of the Greek and Roman colonists,...

The early history of the posts is involved in some obscurity. What little is known on the subject is touched upon in the first Annual Report of the Post Office, the Report for 1854; but the historical summary there given is, as it purports to be, a summary only. The object of the following pages is nothing more than to fill up the gaps and to supply some particulars for which, though not perhaps without interest, an official report would be no fitting place. The origin and progress of an institution which has so interwoven itself with the social life of the people as to have become one of the most remarkable developments of modern civilisation can hardly, we think, be considered a subject unworthy of study. It seems almost certain that until the reign of Henry the Eighth, or perhaps a little earlier, no regular system of posts existed...