Shuffle

The Pilgrims and Puritans, whose migration to the New World marks the beginning of permanent settlement in New England, were children of the same age as the enterprising and adventurous pioneers of England in Virginia, Bermuda, and the Caribbean. It was the age in which the foundations of the British Empire were being laid in the Western Continent. The "spacious times of great Elizabeth" had passed, but the new national spirit born of those times stirred within the English people. The Kingdom had enjoyed sixty years of domestic peace and prosperity, and Englishmen were eager to enter the lists for a share in the advantages which the New World offered to those who would venture therein. Both landowning and landholding classes, gentry and tenant farmers alike, were clamoring, the one for an increase of their landed estates, the other for freedom from the feudal restraints which still legally bound them....

The Stock Exchange is in the second century of its existence and in that long period of time (long relatively to the number of years during which Stock Exchanges have been known to the world) it has been forced to close its doors only twice. The first occasion was the great panic of 1873, the after effect of civil war when trading was suspended for ten days; the second came with the outbreak of the world War in the close of July, 1914. These two remarkable events differ profoundly in the gravity of the circumstances which brought them about. In 1873, although the financial disturbance was one of the greatest the United States has ever experienced, the trouble was mainly local and did not seriously involve the entire world. The Exchange was not closed in anticipation of a catastrophe but was obliged to shut down after the crash had taken...

When it happened, it happened unnoticed. Though it affected all chordata on Earth (with a possible exception to be noted in a moment), nobody knew of it, not even the Prince of all chordata, Man himself. How could he have known of it so soon? Though his lifeline had suddenly been cut, it was a long lifeline and death would still be far off. So it was not suspected for nearly twenty-four hours, nor accepted even as a working theory for nearly three days, and not realized in its full implications for a week. Now, what had occurred was a sudden and worldwide adynatogenesis of all chordata, not, however, adynatotokos; this distinction for many years offered students of the phenomenon some hope. And another hope was in the fact that one small but genuine member of chordate was not affected: an enteropneustron, a balanoglossida of the oddest sort, a creature...

Chap. 1. Origins of my family. My father joins the bodyguard. The de Certain family. Life at Lariviere. Episode in infancy. Chap. 2. Outbreak of revolution. My father's attitude. He rejoins the army. I go to Mlle. Mongalvi. My life as a boarder. Chap. 3. My father is posted to Toulouse. He takes me with him. The convoy of aristocrats. Life at Toulouse. I am taken to Soreze. Chap. 4. Life at Soreze. Early hardships. Visit of representative of the people. Chap. 5. I join my family in Paris. My father is given command of the 17th division in Paris. He refuses to join with Sieyes and hands the command to Lefebvre. Chap. 6. My father is posted to Italy. How my career is begun. I become a Hussar. Chap. 7. My father leaves. Meeting with Bonaparte at Lyon. An adventure on the Rhone. The cost of a Republican banquet....

Striding down the corridor on long thin legs, Art Fillmore mentally glanced over the news and his wide brow puckered. "Scientists to awaken twentieth century man," the mental beam proclaimed. "Dark age to yield untold volumes of ignorance." Fillmore paused before the twelve-foot door, closed his eyes and concentrated until he had achieved the proper attenuation, then entered the office without opening the door. The bald man in the reclining chair dropped his feet from the five-foot-high desk and sat up with a start. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Art," he said nervously. "You know I've got the itch." "Sorry," Fillmore apologized. "Wasn't thinking. Had my mind on my forthcoming wedding." "Wedding?" The bald man's narrow mouth dropped open, revealing small fragile teeth. "Why didn't you tell me? What does she look like?" "Haven't seen her yet," Fillmore grinned. "Just mental images, and you know how girls are when...

"Les preuves de Dieu métaphysiques sont si éloignées du raisonnement des hommes, et si impliquées, qu'elles frappent peu; et quand cela serviroit à quelques-uns, ce ne seroit que pendant l'instant qu'ils voient cette démonstration; mais, une heure après, ils craignent de s'être trompés. Quod curiositate cognoverint, superbiâ amiserunt. " — Pensées de Pascal , II, xv. 2. A question which every author ought to ask of himself before he sends forth his work, and one which must occur to every thoughtful reader, is the inquiry, Cui bono? —what justification has one for treating the subject at all, and why in the particular way which he has chosen? To the pertinency of this question to the present treatise the author has been deeply sensible, and therefore cannot forbear a few prefatory words of explanation of his object and method. In accounts of the theistic argument, as in the history of philosophy...

Somebody had to get the human angle on this trip ... but what was humane about sending me? Illustrated by WOOD My agent was the one who got me the job of going along to write up the first trip to Mars. He was always getting me things like that—appearances on TV shows, or mentions in writers' magazines. If he didn't sell much of my stuff, at least he sold me . "It'll be the biggest break a writer ever got," he told me, two days before blastoff. "Oh, sure there'll be scientific reports on the trip, but the public doesn't want them; they want the human slant on things." "But, Louie," I said weakly, "I'll probably be locked up for the whole trip. If there are fights or accidents, they won't tell me about them." "Nonsense," said Louie, sipping carefully at a paper cup of scalding coffee. "It'll be...

If you let a man learn, and study, and work—and clamp a lid on so that nothing he takes into his mind can be let out—one way or another he'll blow a safety valve! BY ERNEST M. KENYON Illustrated by Freas Suddenly Collins snapped the pencil between his fingers and hurled the pieces across the lab, where they clattered, rolled from the bench to the floor, and were still. For a moment he sat leaning against the desk, his hands trembling. He wasn't sure just when the last straw had been added, but he was sure that he had had enough. The restrictions, red tape, security measures of these government laboratories seemed to close in on his mind in boiling, chaotic waves of frustration. What was the good of his work, all this great installation, all the gleaming expensive equipment in the lab around him? He was alone. None of...

The aim of this volume is to put into compact and popular form, for the benefit of intelligent readers, the principal facts upon which scholars are now generally agreed concerning the literary history of the Bible. The doctrines taught in the Bible will not be discussed; its claims to a supernatural origin will not be the principal matter of inquiry; the book will concern itself chiefly with those purely natural and human agencies which have been employed in writing, transcribing, editing, preserving, transmitting, translating, and publishing the Bible. The writer of this book has no difficulty in believing that the Bible contains supernatural elements. He is ready to affirm that other than natural forces have been employed in producing it. It is to these superhuman elements in it that reference and appeal are most frequently made. But the Bible has a natural history also. It is a book among books....

Canada has had many brave sons, but none braver than Pierre Gaultier de La Vérendrye, who gave all that he had, including his life, for the glory and welfare of his country. La Vérendrye was born in the quaint little town of Three Rivers, on the St Lawrence, on November 17, 1685. His father was governor of the district of which Three Rivers was the capital; his mother was a daughter of Pierre Boucher, a former governor of the same district. In those days, when Canada was still a French colony, both Three Rivers and Montreal had their own governors, while the whole colony was under the authority of the governor-general, who lived at Quebec. At that time Three Rivers was a more important place than it is to-day. Next to Quebec and Montreal, it was the largest town in Canada. If we could see it as it was in...

I t was seven o'clock of a gray November morning when we arrived in Berlin for our first residence abroad. The approach to the city reminded us of the newer parts of New York, and we found that the population was about the same. But here the resemblance ceases. New York is the metropolis of a great nation,—the heart whence arterial supplies go forth, and to which all returning channels converge; the cosmopolitan centre of a New World. Berlin is the increasingly important capital of the German Empire,—growing rapidly, but still the royal impersonation of Prussia and the Hohenzollerns; seated in something of mediæval costume and quiet beside the river Spree; as content to cast a satisfied glance backward to Frederick the Great and the Electors of Brandenburg as to look forward to imperial supremacy among the Great Powers, and the championship of continental Protestant Europe. There is one continuous...

Why me? Why, out of 300 billion people on earth, why did they have to pick on me ? And if it had to happen, why couldn't it have happened before I met Betty and fell in love with her? You see, Betty and I were to be married tomorrow. We were to have been married. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, indeed! What a ghastly thought that is! How can I explain to Betty—to anyone! I can't face her, and what could I say on the telephone? "Sorry, Betty, I can't marry you. I'm no longer—quite human." Quit joking, Kelley! This is for real. You're sober and awake and it did happen. Marrying Betty is out of the question even if she'd have you the way you are. You're not that two-faced! Quit standing in front of the mirror, naked and shaking, looking for scars, counting your fingers and toes. You've taken a...

Dear E. ,—Can you manage to get off some time in May and go bicycling with me in Norway? Blank’s have offered me a passage to Bergen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dear W. ,—I can manage your date, but don’t quite feel drawn to your country. Norway is all mountains, and I want a little archæology. I had been thinking of Provence. Dear E. ,—No objection to Provence. Blank’s will give us a passage in one of their colliers to Bilbao, and we can ride in across the Pyrenees. You must allow me some mountains. Dear W. ,—It’s awfully good of Blank’s. But once at Bilbao, why not stick to Spain? Toledo {2} is no further than Toulouse, and...

First and Second Thoughts—A Warwickshire Welcome. About noon, one hazy April day, I found myself approaching the British coast, and was informed by the Captain of our gallant steamer, that in a few minutes we should gain a glimpse of the mountains of Wales. Instead of rushing to the upper-deck, I found myself forced by a strange impulse to retire to my state-room. For nearly thirty years had my imagination been fed with tales of the noble island over the sea; and for no small portion of that period, its history and its institutions had been a favorite subject of study. To exchange, forever, the England of my fancy for the matter-of-fact England of the nineteenth century, was something to which I was now almost afraid to consent. For a moment I gave way to misgivings; collected and reviewed the conceptions of childhood; and then betook myself, solemnly, to the...

I T is with a prayerful heart and memories deep and reverent that I begin to write the story of my long and intimate friendship with Alexandra Feodorovna, wife of Nicholas II, Empress of Russia, and of the tragedy of the Revolution, which brought on her and hers such undeserved misery, and on our unhappy country such a black night of oblivion. But first I feel that I should explain briefly who I am, for though my name has appeared rather prominently in most of the published accounts of the Revolution, few of the writers have taken the trouble to sift facts from fiction even in the comparatively unimportant matter of my genealogy. I have seen it stated that I was born in Germany, and that my marriage to a Russian officer was arranged to conceal my nationality. I have also read that I was a peasant woman brought from...

DARWIN ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES. T HERE is a growing immensity in the speculations of science to which no human thing or thought at this day is comparable. Apart from the results which science brings us home and securely harvests, there is an expansive force and latitude in its tentative efforts, which lifts us out of ourselves and transfigures our mortality. We may have a preference for moral themes, like the Homeric sage, who had seen and known much:— “Cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments”; yet we must end by confession that “The windy ways of men Are but dust which rises up And is lightly laid again,” in comparison with the work of nature, to which science testifies, but which has no boundaries in time or space to which science can approximate. There is something altogether out of the reach of science, and yet the compass...

T hus have I heard. Nearly two thousand five hundred years ago, in the City of Kapila in Northern India, the spring came with glory. And surely nowhere in all the three worlds is spring more gracious, for the sunshine, life-giving, inspiring, draws divine scents from moist earth and the deep luxuriance of leaves and flowers to send on every breathing breeze pure incense from the world, rejoicing as a bride in the all-enfolding delight. Here stood the little City of Kapila, nobly placed, as beseems the birthplace of the Perfect One, and above it the Himalayas stormed the skies with tossing billows of snow, leading the aspiration of man on and up until it melted in the Divine. On these, as was known, the Divinities had their dwelling. Thence Indra, the heavenly lord, drove his flocks of clouds to pasture in pure air, taking form and colour from the...

Planetfall. Here the forest was green and cool. A soft, damp wind promised rain. The colonists moved down the ramp, staring at the crew members piling crates of supplies in the meadow beyond. Frowns. Then whispers. Saxon glanced up. His nostrils flared. "Hurry," he told the crewmen, and came forward, beaming. He was tired. It showed in his feverish, too-bright smile as he said, "Afraid Engineering's a little behind schedule. They'll be here tomorrow morning to erect your city. Tonight you'll have to rough it." Reactions varied. The women murmured and moved closer to their men. Some smiled. One man thoughtfully eyed the mounting pyramid of supplies. "You're getting a choice world, Jarl," Saxon said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Survey spent thirty years here, balancing the ecology, wiping out the bugs and carnivores. Eden." Saxon tasted the word like wine. Jarl Madsen's face was stone. "Aren't they all named...

It appears that before Post Offices were established special messengers were employed to carry letters. It is recorded that such a special messenger was paid the sum of one penny for carrying a letter from Bristol to London in the year 1532, but the record affords no further particulars as to the service, and the assumption is that the special messenger was, in his own person, a rough-and-ready "post." Later on, a post would be suddenly established for a particular purpose, and as soon abandoned when no longer specially required. Thus in the year 1621 a post to Ireland—Irish firms being then considered to require "oftener despatches and more expedition"—was set up by way of Bristol, only to be discontinued in a few years. There was in 1660 a direct but irregular post between London and some of the larger provincial towns, but there were no cross posts between two...

A Kentish Celt—A Rebellious Boy—Four Years in the Navy—With the 19th Hussars—"Captain X Trees"—A Studious Subaltern—Chafing at Home—The First Opportunity. "If I don't end my days as a Field-Marshal it will not be for want of trying, and—well, I'm jolly well going to do it." In these words, uttered many years ago to a group of brother officers in the mess room of the 19th Hussars, Sir John French quite unconsciously epitomised his own character in a way no biographer can hope to equal. The conversation had turned upon luck, a word that curiously enough was later to be so intimately associated with French's name. One man had stoutly proclaimed that all promotion was a matter of luck, and French had claimed that only work and ability really counted in the end. Yet "French's luck" has become almost a service proverb—for those who have not closely studied his career. Luck...

By R. A. Palmer Illustrated by H. W. McCauley Take two men and one girl—the eternal triangle—and mix well with an oscilloscope gone haywire. What comes out? With ingredients like these, the result is adventure, terror and, of course, romance. "What time did you get to bed last night?" "Oh, about ... well, fairly early." "Who were you out with?" "Brannan." "Then you didn't get to bed early! If you got in by three, it would be early, if I know Brannan." "I got in much before three!" "How much?" "Oh ... enough. You'd be surprised...." "I'm sure I would! Mary, how do you expect us to get anywhere with this experiment if you come in dog-tired?" "Donald Jensen, I'm not dog-tired. It's you who's got me in bed in the wee hours, not me! I came in early." "Then why won't you state the exact time?" he was exasperated....

Long, long ago, when Cornwall was almost a desert land, cold, bleak, and poor, and inhabited only by giants, who had destroyed and eaten all the smaller people, Brutus and Corineus came with a large Trojan army intending to conquer England, or Albion as it was then called, and landed at Plymouth for that purpose. These two valiant chiefs had heard strange tales of the enormous size of the people in that part of the island, so, like wise generals, before venturing inland themselves, they sent parties of their men to explore, and find out what they could of the inhabitants. The soldiers, who had never heard anything about the giants, went off very full of glee, and courage, thinking, from the miserable look of the country, that they had only some poor half-starved, ignorant savages to hunt out, and subdue. That was how they started out. They returned nearly...

Jeanne turned off the radio and went downstairs slowly, watching how the gold-shot curtains on the landing window caught the sunlight in a multitude of brilliant flecks. She shuddered slightly. Up there , the sun would scorch and sear. When she entered the living room, Aunt Anna looked up from her magazine, and Pop puffed on his calabash pipe, occasionally grunting with satisfaction. Mom looked at Jeanne hopefully, but soon turned away in confusion. She could not tell whether Jeanne wanted her to laugh or cry. "Well," said Jeanne, instantly hating the flippant way she tried to speak, "he got there." She never quite knew why, but whenever emotions threatened to choke her up she would slip on the mask, the carefree attitude, the what-do-I-care voice she was using now. "All the way— there ?" Aunt Anna fluttered her eyebrows, allowing herself a rare display of emotion. Mom smiled, laughed...

Commander Benedict kept his eyes on the rear plate as he activated the intercom. "All right, cut the power. We ought to be safe enough here." As he released the intercom, Dr. Leicher, of the astronomical staff, stepped up to his side. "Perfectly safe," he nodded, "although even at this distance a star going nova ought to be quite a display." Benedict didn't shift his gaze from the plate. "Do you have your instruments set up?" "Not quite. But we have plenty of time. The light won't reach us for several hours yet. Remember, we were outracing it at ten lights." The commander finally turned, slowly letting his breath out in a soft sigh. "Dr. Leicher, I would say that this is just about the foulest coincidence that could happen to the first interstellar vessel ever to leave the Solar System." Leicher shrugged. "In one way of thinking, yes. It...

Transcriber’s Notes The cover image was provided by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. Punctuation has been standardized. Most abbreviations have been expanded in tool-tips for screen-readers and may be seen by hovering the mouse over the abbreviation. This book was written in a period when many words had not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated with a Transcriber’s Note. Footnotes are identified in the text with a superscript number and have been accumulated in a table at the end of the text. Transcriber’s Notes are used when making corrections to the text or to provide additional information for the modern reader. These notes have been accumulated in a table at the end of the book and are identified in the text by a dotted underline and may be...

by L'histoire n'est fondee que sur le tomoignage des Auteurs qui nous l'ont transmisse. Il importe donc extremement, pour la scavoir, de bien connoitre quels etoient ces Auteurs. Rien n'est a negliger en ce point; le tems ou ils ont vecu, leur naissance, leur patrie, le part qu'ils ont eue aux affaires, les moyens par lesquels ils ont ete instruits, et l'interet qu'ils y pouvaient prendre, sont des circonstances essentielles qu'il n'est pas permis d'ignorer: dela depend le plus ou le moins d'autorite qu'ils doivent avoir: et sans cette connoissance, on courra risque tres souvent de prendre pour guide un Historien de mauvaisse foi, ou du moins, mal informe. Hist. de l'Acad. des Inscript. Vol. X. First Published 1768 So incompetent has the generality of historians been for the province they have undertaken, that it is almost a question, whether, if the dead of past ages could revive, they would...

It was upon the waterfront that I first met her, in one of the shabby little tea shops frequented by able sailoresses of the poorer type. The uptown, glittering resorts of the Lady Aviators' Union were not for such as she. Stern of feature, bronzed by wind and sun, her age could only be guessed, but I surmised at once that in her I beheld a survivor of the age of turbines and oil engines—a true sea-woman of that elder time when woman's superiority to man had not been so long recognized. When, to emphasize their victory, women in all ranks were sterner than today's need demands. The spruce, smiling young maidens—engine-women and stokers of the great aluminum rollers, but despite their profession, very neat in gold-braided blue knickers and boleros—these looked askance at the hard-faced relic of a harsher day, as they passed in and out of the shop....

If one is not in too great a hurry it is wise to take the steamer—not the train—at Quebec and travel by it the eighty miles down the St. Lawrence to Malbaie, or Murray Bay, as the English call it, somewhat arrogantly rejecting the old French name used since the pioneer days of Champlain. This means an early morning start and six or seven hours—the steamers are not swift—on that great river. Only less than a mile apart are its rugged banks at Quebec but, even then, they seem to contract the mighty torrent of water flowing between them. Once past Quebec the river broadens into a great basin, across which we see the head of the beautiful Island of Orleans. We skirt, on the south side, the twenty miles of the island's well wooded shore, dotted with the cottages of the habitants, stretched irregularly along the winding road. Church...

Tu quis es ?  Which words are as much to say in English, “Who art thou?”  These be the words of the Pharisees, which were sent by the Jews unto St. John Baptist in the wilderness, to have knowledge of him who he was: which words they spake unto him of an evil intent, thinking that he would have taken on him to be Christ, and so they would have had him done with their good wills, because they knew that he was more carnal, and given to their laws, than Christ indeed should be, as they perceived by their old prophecies; and also, because they marvelled much of his great doctrine, preaching, and baptizing, they were in doubt whether he was Christ or not: wherefore they said unto him, “Who art thou?”  Then answered St. John, and confessed that he was not Christ. Now here is to be noted...

"Get the hell out of my sight, Nocher!" Holder shouted. The scientist had held his temper ever since he had been taken captive. This had set up such a condition of strain within him that even in his dreams, he had seen himself destroying Reds. He had blown them up with hydrogen bombs, he had destroyed them with death rays, he had disintegrated them with weapons that no other mind had ever imagined. Most of all, he had hated the poking, prying political commissars, who had breathed down his neck in every experiment he had ever attempted, or had watched from the TV camera installed in every laboratory of the vast installation, to make certain that any discovery that was made went to the right place. But even Holder's most fantastic dreams were nothing in comparison to what actually happened. Nocher was a big man, standing six foot two inches...

In publishing these “Myths of the Sioux,” I deem it proper to state that I am of one-fourth Sioux blood. My maternal grandfather, Captain Duncan Graham, a Scotchman by birth, who had seen service in the British Army, was one of a party of Scotch Highlanders who in 1811 arrived in the British Northwest by way of York Factory, Hudson Bay, to found what was known as the Selkirk Colony, near Lake Winnipeg, now within the province of Manitoba, Canada. Soon after his arrival at Lake Winnipeg he proceeded up the Red River of the North and the western fork thereof to its source, and thence down the Minnesota River to Mendota, the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, where he located. My grandmother, Ha-za-ho-ta-win, was a full-blood of the Medawakanton Band of the Sioux Tribe of Indians. My father, Joseph Buisson, born near Montreal, Canada, was connected with...

A steak-and-kidney pie, influenza, and a cablegram. There is the triple alliance that is responsible for the whole thing. Though there might have been a bit of homesickness and a desire for applause mixed up in the cycle of circumstances that started me off to Europe for a vacation. For seven years I had been basking in California's perpetual sunlight, a sunlight artificially enhanced by the studio Cooper-Hewitts. For seven years I had been working and thinking along in a single channel and I wanted to get away. Away from Hollywood, the cinema colony, away from scenarios, away from the celluloid smell of the studios, away from contracts, press notices, cutting rooms, crowds, bathing beauties, custard pies, big shoes, and little moustaches. I was in the atmosphere of achievement, but an achievement which, to me, was rapidly verging on stagnation. I wanted an emotional holiday. Perhaps I am projecting at...

At the time of the American Revolution most of the New World still belonged to Spain and Portugal, whose captains and conquerors had been the first to come to its shores. Spain had the lion's share, but Portugal held Brazil, in itself a vast land of unsuspected resources. No empire mankind had ever yet known rivaled in size the illimitable domains of Spain and Portugal in the New World; and none displayed such remarkable contrasts in land and people. Boundless plains and forests, swamps and deserts, mighty mountain chains, torrential streams and majestic rivers, marked the surface of the country. This vast territory stretched from the temperate prairies west of the Mississippi down to the steaming lowlands of Central America, then up through tablelands in the southern continent to high plateaus, miles above sea level, where the sun blazed and the cold, dry air was hard to breathe, and then...

By JOHN WILLIAM KAYE, F.R.S. THIRD EDITION. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I.     LONDON: WM. H. ALLEN & CO., 13, WATERLOO PLACE, Publishers to the India Office. 1874. LONDON. PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. IF PUBLIC CLAIMS ALONE WERE TO BE REGARDED, I KNOW NOT TO WHOM I COULD MORE FITLY INSCRIBE THESE VOLUMES, THAN TO THE OFFICERS OF A REGIMENT, ON THE ROLLS OF WHICH ARE THE NAMES OF POLLOCK, MACGREGOR, TODD, SHAKESPEAR, LAWRENCE, ABBOTT, ANDERSON, AND OTHERS, DISTINGUISHED IN THE ANNALS OF THE AFGHAN WAR; BUT IT IS IN GRATEFUL RECOLLECTION OF SOME OF THE HAPPIEST YEARS OF MY LIFE THAT I DEDICATE THESE VOLUMES TO THE OFFICERS OF THE BENGAL ARTILLERY. Bletchingley , Oct. 30, 1851 . ——◆—— The present Edition of the “History of the War in Afghanistan” is a reproduction of the three-volumed Edition of 1857, which was...

Department of the Interior, The Ethnological Survey , Manila, December 21, 1904 . Sir : I have the honor to transmit a series of papers on Moro history, law, and religion consisting of original studies and translations from Moro texts made by Dr. Najeeb M. Saleeby. I recommend that these papers be published as Part I of Volume IV of the scientific studies edited by the Survey. Very respectfully, Merton L. Miller , Acting Chief of The Ethnological Survey . Hon. Dean C. Worcester , Secretary of the Interior, Manila, P. I. Chapter I        Page History of Magindanao      11 Chapter II Laws of the Moros      63 Chapter III Two Sulu Orations      101 Laws of the Moros      63 Chapter III Two Sulu Orations      101 Diagrams...

There's an axiom in the galaxy: The more complicated the machine, the bigger mess it can make. Like the time the planetary computer for Buughabyta flipped its complete grain-futures series. The computer ordered only 15 acres, and Buughabytians had to live for a full year off the government's stored surplus—thus pounding down the surplus, forcing up the price, eliminating the subsidy and balancing the Buughabytian budget for fifteen years—an unprecedented bit of nonsense that almost had permanent effects. But a career economist with an eye for flubup and complication managed to restore balanced disorder, bringing Buughabyta right back to normalcy. Or like the time a matter-duplicator receiver misread OCH 3 CH 3 OH, to turn out a magnificently busted blonde sphygmomano-raiser with an HOCH 3 OH replacement, putting a strain on the loyalty of a billion teen-age girls dedicated to Doyle Oglevie worship. Doyle-she insisted she was Doyle-he, as it...

Becoming Ambitious—Leaving Home—Hotel Porter—Card Business—Lightning Rod Agent—The Accident—Twelve Glasses of Water. I was born in the good old State of Illinois, my birthplace being on a farm just twenty miles out of Chicago. Here I lived until I was eighteen years of age. My father was fairly well fixed as a farmer and gave me as good an education, both classical and musical, as a country residence could afford. In those early days of my life the western half of the United States was virtually in its infancy, and all around me, in whatever direction the eye might turn, new enterprises were being launched with a view to development of the country. Reading of these created a desire on my part to see some of them, and perhaps take my humble part in the great work of building up the new side of the nation. One day I would read...

The bed woke them. "Time to get up, dears," it cooed. "Time to get up and greet the sun ... time to get up...." Then the supporting magnetism faded and let their mattress drift gently to the soft warm floor. Janet turned and opened her eyes, pouting at Les. He scowled back, grumbled something, and rolled away. She shook his film-coated shoulder. "Come on, Les. Come on, you'll feel better after coffee." "Don't want any," he snarled. But the damage had been done. At the word "coffee" a grotesque marionette opened the bedroom door and minced in with two steaming cups on a tray, swinging them artfully so that they appeared likely to spill, but didn't. For some years, now, that dance had left Janet unamused. She was about to say so when Les growled, "These darned dolls are a nuisance. I wish you'd order a plain, automatic dispenser!" "...

New York , January 22, 1914. Copyright, 1914, by Joseph F. Wagner, New York The present work has already secured many friends in German Europe. An invitation has now been extended for its reception among the English-speaking countries, with the object that there, too, it may seek readers and friends, and communicate to them its thoughts—the ideas it has to convey and to interpret. While wishing it heartfelt success and good fortune on its journey, the Author desires it to convey his greetings to its new readers. This book has issued from the throes of dissension and strife, seeing the light at a time when, in Austria and Germany, the bitter forces of opposition, that range themselves about the shibboleth Freedom of Science , were seen engaging in a combat of fiercer intensity than ever. Yet, notwithstanding, this Child of Strife has learned the language of Peace only. It speaks...

§1. Theory and Fact . The controversy between the "Theorist" and the "Practical Man" is common to all branches of human affairs, but it is more than usually prevalent, and perhaps more than usually acrid in the economic sphere. It is always a rather foolish controversy, and I have no intention of entering into it, but its prevalence makes it desirable to emphasize a platitude. Economic theory must be based upon actual fact: indeed, it must be essentially an attempt, like all theory, to describe the actual facts in proper sequence, and in true perspective; and if it does not do this it is an imposture. Moreover, the facts which economic theory seeks to describe are primarily economic facts, facts, that is to say, which emerge in, and are concerned with, the ordinary business world; and it is, therefore, mainly upon such facts that the theory must be based. People...

Outside pure Naval history it would be difficult to find any period so full of incident and contest as that which is covered by the exploits of the English Preventive Service in their efforts to deal with the notorious and dangerous bands of smugglers which at one time were a terrible menace to the trade and welfare of our nation. As we shall see from the following pages, their activities covered many decades, and indeed smuggling is not even to-day dead nor ever will be so long as there are regulations which human ingenuity can occasionally outwit. But the grand, adventurous epoch of the smugglers covers little more than a century and a half, beginning about the year 1700 and ending about 1855 or 1860. Nevertheless, within that space of time there are crowded in so much adventure, so many exciting escapes, so many fierce encounters, such clever moves and...

Two low flying interceptor jets screamed overhead, climbing for much needed altitude as they headed out to sea. The Captain took off his steel helmet and looked up at the thunderous roar just before he leaped from the still moving jeep. When his feet touched the ground he moved quickly, shouting orders at the olive-drab truck convoy he had been leading. He pointed his finger at the side of the road where he wanted the small stuff. The "duce and a half's" he directed to the opposite side of the road. Then he put his helmet back on. He watched as the troops quickly dismounted and assembled. He lighted a cigarette while he waited for his three officers. Only then did he look at the Bridge. The massive steel structure spanning the river was six lanes wide, cantilever style with curved upper and lower cords. The Bridge looked trim and...

Let him go. It's quite safe to leave us. I want to talk to him. Sit over there, Chris, where you can be comfortable. A paradox, isn't it? You were taught we may never go back. Now I've authorized the building of the rocket. From your point of view you were justified in trying to destroy it. I'm violating the regulations; you weren't. But time changes the shape of the truth, Chris; it isn't static. No one had the insight, then, to grasp the insanity of John Firth's dream. People hated Firth or envied him; but no one called him mad. John Firth was an industrialist; yet far more than that, too—politician, scientist, financier, even an artist of sorts. There was nothing he couldn't do; and few things he didn't do superbly well. That accounts for his philosophy. He never understood his own superiority. He honestly believed that all men...

[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories March 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "Suzy, Suzy, Suzy!" Whit Clayborne looked at the luminous face of the bulkhead clock for the hundredth time that day. Sweat started out on his forehead, and he gripped his face with a convulsed hand, moaning in helpless anguish. The clock clicked impersonally in the darkness, and Whit moaned again. The cold. The darkness. The quiet. And the solitude. But there was always Suzy, linking him to the earth so many miles away. "One hundred and forty-three days out, four hundred and seven to go." The ritual of the report, designed to keep him thinking, day after day. "Nothing to report, sir, all equipment functioning. All graphs tracking. No abnormality of any kind. My health is good...." In four hundred and seven days...

Silke of grasse or grasse Silke. There is a kind of grasse in the countrey vppon the blades where of there groweth very good silke in forme of a thin glittering skin to bee stript of. It groweth two foote and a halfe high or better: the blades are about two foot in length, and half inch broad. The like groweth in Persia, which is in the selfe same climate as Virginia, of which very many of the silke workes that come from thence into Europe are made. Here of if it be planted and ordered as in Persia, it cannot in reason be otherwise, but that there will rise in shorte time great profite to the dealers therein; seeing there is so great vse and vent thereof as well in our countrey as els where. And by the meanes of sowing & planting in good ground, it will be...

by John A. Carpenter On August 18, 1814, Admiral Cockburn, having returned with his fleet from the West Indies, sent to Secretary Monroe at Washington, the following threat: SIR: Having been called upon by the Governor-General of the Canadas to aid him in carrying into effect measures of retaliation against the inhabitants of United States for the wanton destruction committed by their army in Upper Canada, it has become imperiously my duty, in conformity with the Governor-General's application, to issue to the naval forces under my command an order to destroy and lay waste such towns and districts upon the coast as may be found assailable. His fleet was then in the Patuxent River, emptying into the Chesapeake Bay. The towns immediately "assailable," therefore, were Baltimore, Washington, and Annapolis. Landing at Benedict's, on the Patuxent, the land forces, enervated by a long sea-voyage, marched the first day to Nottingham, the...

Illness of George IV. — His death — Sale of his clothes, etc. — The new King — His character. In the Times of Friday, April 16, 1830, we have the following Court Circular :— "His Majesty, we regret to state, has experienced, during the last few days, an attack of indisposition. The King took an airing for some time on Monday. During the night his Majesty became indisposed; Sir Henry Halford, who was in attendance at the Palace that evening, and who, according to his usual practice, slept there, left the Palace on Tuesday morning and came to town, but thought it advisable to return to Windsor in the evening. Sir Henry came to town on Wednesday morning, and again returned to the Palace; when, finding that the King's attack of illness had increased, Sir Henry sent for Sir Matthew Tierney at an early hour yesterday morning. Sir Matthew...

It was five o'clock in the afternoon, when a bright little messenger boy in blue touched the electric button of Room No. —— in Carnegie Studio, New York City. At once the door flew open and a handsome young artist received a Western Union telegram, and quickly signed his name, "Alfonso H. Harris" in the boy's book. "Here, my boy, is twenty-five cents," he said, and tore open the message, which read as follows:— Harrisville ,—. Alfonso H. Harris, Carnegie Studio, New York. We reach Grand Central Depot at 7:10 o'clock tomorrow evening in our new private car Alfonso. Family greetings; all well. Reuben Harris. Alfonso put the telegram in his pocket, completed packing his steamer trunk, wrote a letter to his landlord, enclosing a check for the last quarter's rent, and ran downstairs and over to the storage company, to leave an order to call for two big trunks...

ANARCHY is a word which comes from the Greek, and signifies, strictly speaking, without government: the state of a people without any constituted authority, that is, without government. Before such an organization had begun to be considered possible and desirable by a whole class of thinkers, so as to be taken as the aim of a party (which party has now become one of the most important factors in modern social warfare), the word Anarchy was taken universally in the sense of disorder and confusion; and it is still adopted in that sense by the ignorant and by adversaries interested in distorting the truth. We shall not enter into philological discussions; for the question is not philological but historical. The common meaning of the word does not misconceive its true etymological signification, but is derived from this meaning, owing to the prejudice that government must be a necessity of the...

In the spring of 1896, at a time when public attention centred on the Armenian troubles, the Sultan of Turkey sent a confidential emissary to London for the purpose of sounding the Marquis of Salisbury on the situation without the knowledge of the Turkish Ambassador. He endeavoured to obtain an interview with the Prime Minister, but without success. The Turkish Ambassador was anything but pleased at this Palace manœuvre, and did his best to prevent his master’s agent being received. Costaki Pasha, with whom I was on friendly terms, told me that it was bad enough to be kept waiting for one’s salary, but it was adding insult to injury to have your position undermined by unauthorized missions. The Sultan’s emissary informed me during his stay that the Sultan was most anxious to ascertain Prince Bismarck’s opinion on the Armenian question, and if possible to learn what the Prince would...

To C. H. G. H. Who saw with me so much of what is in this book ( Killed in action in Artois, August 27th, 1918 ) These stories of travel and chance have been selected from writings published in various periodicals between January 1907 and April 1918, and are arranged in order of time.   Foreword The author of Old Junk has been called a legend. A colleague who during the later stages of the war visited the western front assured me that this was the right word by which to describe the memory left among officers and men, not so much by his work as a war correspondent, as by his original and fascinating character. A legend, too, he appears to be in the newspaper world of London: but there in a different sense, by reason of the singular contradiction between the human creature beloved of all his...

The first edition of this work was published in 1854, and, although a large one, has been long out of print. Many inquiries having been made for it since the recent lamented death of the translator, the publishers have determined to offer a second edition to the public, and have been advised to give it a place in their “English and Foreign Philosophical Library.” It is an exact reprint of the first edition, and they trust it will be received with equal favour. London , June 1881 . The clamour excited by the present work has not surprised me, and hence it has not in the least moved me from my position. On the contrary, I have once more, in all calmness, subjected my work to the severest scrutiny, both historical and philosophical; I have, as far as possible, freed it from its defects of form, and enriched it with...

Departure for Broussa—Rocky Coast—Moudania—The Custom House—Translation of the word Backshich —The Archbishop of Broussa—The Boatman’s House—The Dead and the Living—Laughable Cavalcade—Dense Mists—Fine Country—Flowers, Birds, and Butterflies—The Coffee Hut—The Turkish Woman—Broussa in the Distance—The Dried-up Fountain—Immense Plains—Bohemian Gipsies—Mountain Streams—Turkish Washerwomen—Fine Old Wall—The Jews’ Quarter—The Turkish Kiosk—Oriental Curiosity—A Dream of Home. Having decided on visiting Broussa, we hired an island caïque with four stout rowers, and provided ourselves with plenty of coats and cloaks, a basket of provisions, and a few volumes of French classics; and thus we set sail from the Golden Horn on the last day of May, leaving Stamboul all splendour and sunshine. A brisk northerly wind carried us rapidly out into the Propontis; all sails were set; my father and myself comfortably established among “the wraps,” our Greek servant ensconced between two baskets, the steersman squatted upon the poop of the boat grinning applause, and revealing in his...

Four nominal species of the genus Pipistrellus are currently recognized in North America. They are Pipistrellus subflavus (F. Cuvier) of eastern North America, Pipistrellus hesperus (H. Allen) of western North America, Pipistrellus veracrucis (Ward) from Veracruz, Mexico, and Pipistrellus cinnamomeus Miller from Tabasco, Mexico. In the past three years, specimens have been obtained in Veracruz (by Dalquest) of each of the southern species. One of these, P. cinnamomeus , previously was known from a single specimen; the other, P. veracrucis , was known only from six specimens which now are lost or misplaced. The results of our study of these recently acquired Mexican specimens constitute our principal contribution in this paper; we have done little more with the material from the United States and Canada than to codify the findings of other mammalogists with respect to the systematic status and geographic distribution. Study of the available specimens reveals that there...

                    By M. TURNER, SURGEON,                             IN                          LIVERPOOL.                           LONDON:  Printed by J. WILKIE, at the Bible in St. Paul's Church-yard. The Publisher of the following short Account of the AETHER having prepared, and successfully made Use of it in his private Practice, for several Years, has at length determin'd to endeavour to extend it's Utility, by thus making it public; as he knows of no one who has ever published it's medicinal virtues ; or offered it to Sale in it's Perfection ; or given the Criteria by which they who are unacquainted with it might distinguish the Genuine from the Spurious : And he doubts not but every candid Person who examines it, will agree with him, That it carries with it the strongest Marks of a valuable Addition to the Materia Medica , and therefore ought to lie no longer in Obscurity. AN ACCOUNT OF THE AETHER, &c. This...

The cities are called Taskentl and Caskayre,! and the people that warre against Taskent are called Cassaks! of the law of Mahomet, and they which warre with the said countrey of Caskayre are called Kirghiz, Gentiles and idolators.—ANTHONY JENKINSON. Ox March 5, 1915, my brother and I started off on our long journey to Kashgar, the capital of Chinese Turkestan, where he was to act for Sir George Macartney, the well-known Consul-General, who was taking leave. Owing to the War, we were obliged, as the first stage of our journey, to travel to Petrograd by the circuitous route through Norway, Sweden and Finland. The small Norwegian steamer, the Iris, in which we embarked at Newcastle, made its way up the coast of Scotland to a point opposite Peterhead in order to avoid mines and submarines, after which it crossed to Bergen. We passed two choppy nights in stuffy cabins with...

Lord Loudwater was paying attention neither to his breakfast nor to the cat Melchisidec. Absorbed in a leader in The Times newspaper, now and again he tugged at his red-brown beard in order to quicken his comprehension of the weighty phrases of the leader-writer; now and again he made noises, chiefly with his nose, expressive of disgust. Lady Loudwater paid no attention to these noises. She did not even raise her eyes to her husband's face. She ate her breakfast with a thoughtful air, her brow puckered by a faint frown. She also paid no attention to her favourite, Melchisidec. Melchisidec, unduly excited by the smell of grilled sole, came to Lord Loudwater, rose on his hind legs, laid his paws on his trousers, and stuck some claws into his thigh. It was no more than gentle, arresting pricks; but the tender nobleman sprang from his chair with a short...

The Navy is very old and very wise. Much of her wisdom is on record and available for reference; but more of it works in the unconscious blood of those who serve her. She has a thousand years of experience, and can find precedent or parallel for any situation that the force of the weather or the malice of the King's enemies may bring about. The main principles of sea-warfare hold good throughout all ages, and, so far as the Navy has been allowed to put out her strength , these principles have been applied over all the seas of the world. For matters of detail the Navy, to whom all days are alike, has simply returned to the practice and resurrected the spirit of old days. In the late French wars, a merchant sailing out of a Channel port might in a few hours find himself laid by the...

In a gleaming chrome and glass federal building located at the center of Venusport, Division Chief Carl Wattles wearily arose from his office couch. He had been taking his usual two-hour, after-lunch nap, but today it had brought him little refreshment. Earlier he had received an unexpected report that made sleep impossible. "John?" he mumbled. John Claxson, the generously padded assistant division chief, stopped drilling out his earwax but did not remove his feet from the blotter of his desk. "Yeah, Chief?" "I've heard from the Kentons again." "I thought something was deviling you, the way you was carrying on in your sleep." He raised thick eyebrows. "Is their production down again?" "Worse than that, John. Kenton has had the gall to request time off to build a new house!" "No! I can't believe it." "I can't either, John. They know it's not in the Manual." "Certainly it's not, Chief....

The Earl of Somerville was coming out of the Agricultural Hall and just stepping into his brougham, when a few drops of rain began to fall and a distant clap of thunder was heard. But it would no doubt be over in a few minutes; only a passing shower which would dispel the clouds, clear the leaden atmosphere, and in no way interfere with the midnight picnic to which Lord Somerville was going. The day had been oppressively hot, and although it was only the second of May, one might have easily believed it to be the month of July. It was fortunate, for several entertainments were organised in that early period of the London Season—theatricals and bazaars, private and public, were announced for every day of the first weeks in May, for the benefit of soldiers’ widows, East-End sufferers and West-End vanities. In fact, never had Londoners’ hearts beaten...

ARTILLERY As these sketches of the changing phases of modern war are largely concerned with the work of the artillery, as, indeed, they are written from the standpoint of that branch of the Service, this would seem to be a favourable place to explain shortly the significance of the arm. My excuse, if any be needed, may be sought in the mind of the average man who, terrified as ever of the contemplation of anything technical, puzzled by the grandiloquence of the self-appointed "expert," regards the art of the artilleryman as written in a book sealed to him for ever by its own abstruseness. Yet the general principles that guide the employment of the man with the gun, as distinguished from the man with the rifle, are very simple. In the first place, whereas the latter is only concerned with the incapacitating of personnel , the former has in addition...

  The outcasts; the hunted of all the brighter worlds, crowded onto Yaroto. But even here was there salvation for Ransome, the jinx-scarred acolyte, when tonight was the night of Bani-tai ... the night of expiation by the photo-memoried priests of dark Darion? he last light in the Galaxy was a torch. High in the rafters of Mytor's Cafe Yaroto it burned, and its red glare illuminated a gallery of the damned. Hands that were never far from blaster or knife; eyes that picked a hundred private hells out of the swirling smoke where a woman danced. She was good to look at, moving in time to the savage rhythm of the music. The single garment she wore bared her supple body, and thighs and breasts and a cloud of dark hair wove a pattern of desire in the close room. Fat Mytor watched, and his little crafty eyes gleamed....

  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...

January 20, 1907. M Y own interest in the Congo Free State began at the St. Louis exposition. As is well known, that exposition made a special feature of groups of representatives of tribes from various parts of the world. These natives dressed in native dress, lived in native houses, and so far as possible reproduced an accurate picture of the daily life to which they were accustomed in their homes. Among the groups there brought together was one of Congo natives. This group was commonly known as the pygmy group, though but four out of the nine members composing it made claims to be such. The group was brought by Mr. S. P. Verner, at one time missionary to the Congo, who was engaged by the exposition to make a special journey into central Africa to procure it. Four members of the group were Batua, the others were large...

Fieldwork was carried on by the California Museum of Vertebrate Zoology during 1917 in the Inyo region of eastern California. In going over the collection of birds obtained, the attention of the writer was arrested by certain peculiarities evident in the Mountain Chickadees. Comparison with series from the Sierras showed the Inyo birds to be paler colored and longer tailed; and in order to appraise these differences in taxonomic terms it became necessary to assemble material representative of the entire range of the species, in so far as possible. The results of the study thus undertaken are presented herewith. The material involved in the inquiry has amounted to 464 skins of the Mountain Chickadee, derived from the following sources other than the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology: United States National Museum, through Dr. Charles W. Richmond; United States Biological Survey, through Mr. Edward W. Nelson; and the private collections of Messrs....