Shuffle

lark Decker winced and scrounged still lower in his seat as Mrs. Appleby-Simpkin rested her enormous bosom on the front of the podium and smiled down on the Patriot Daughters of America in convention assembled as she announced: "And now, my dears, I will read you one more short quotation from Major Wicks' fascinating book 'The Minor Tactics of The American Revolution.' When I am finished, I know that you will all agree that Rebecca Johns-Hayes will be a more than fitting successor to myself as your President." Decker looked wildly about for a way of escape from the convention auditorium. If he had only remained in the anteroom with Professor MacCulloch and the Historical Reintegrator! After suffering through four days of speeches by ladies in various stages of mammalian top-heaviness, he hadn't believed it possible that anyone could top Mrs. Appleby-Simpkin for either sheer ability to bore or for...

Joseph Howe was in a very special sense at once the child and the father of Nova Scotia. His love for his native province was deep and passionate. He was one in whom her defects and excellences could be seen in bold outline; one who knew and loved her with unswerving love; who caught the inspiration of her woods, streams, and shores; and who gave it back in verses not unmeet, in a thousand stirring appeals to her people, and in that which is always more heroic than words, namely, civic action and life-service. 'Joe' Howe was Nova Scotia incarnate. Once, at a banquet somewhere in England, in responding to the toast of the colonies, he painted the little province he represented with such tints that the chairman at the close announced, in half fun, half earnest, that he intended to pack up his portmanteau that night and start for...

In attempting even a slight sketch of China, its physical features, or some of the manners and customs of the various peoples whom we designate broadly as the Chinese, the writer is confronted with the difficulty of its immensity. The continuous territory in Asia over which China rules or exercises a suzerainty is over 4,200,000 square miles, but China Proper, excluding Manchuria, Mongolia, Tibet, and Turkestan, consists of eighteen provinces, covering an area of 1,530,000 square miles, with a population of about 410,000,000, or about twelve and a half times the area of the United Kingdom, and ten times its population. This area is bounded on the west by southern spurs from the giant mountain regions of Eastern Tibet, that stretch their long arms in parallel ranges through Burma and Western Yunnan, and whose snow-clad crests send forth the great rivers Salween and Mekong to the south, the Yangtze and...

A space rover has no business with a family. But what can a man in the full vigor of youth do—if his heart cries out for a home? They all knew he was a spacer because of the white goggle marks on his sun-scorched face, and so they tolerated him and helped him. They even made allowances for him when he staggered and fell in the aisle of the bus while pursuing the harassed little housewife from seat to seat and cajoling her to sit and talk with him. Having fallen, he decided to sleep in the aisle. Two men helped him to the back of the bus, dumped him on the rear seat, and tucked his gin bottle safely out of sight. After all, he had not seen Earth for nine months, and judging by the crusted matter about his eyelids, he couldn't have seen it too well now,...

It is worse than a waste of time, it is a grievous offence against the cause of truth, to undertake to refute an author without having taken pains to understand exactly what he teaches. In every discussion, the first thing to be settled is the point in dispute; and if this be omitted, the controversy must needs degenerate into a mere idle logomachy. It seldom happens that any thing affords so much satisfaction, or throws so much light on a controversy, as to have the point at issue clearly made up, and constantly borne in mind . What then, is the precise doctrine of the Inquiry which I intend to oppose? The great question is, says Edwards, what determines the will. It is taken for granted, on all sides, that the will is determined; and the only point is, or rather has been, as to what determines it. It is...

In the future, we may discover new planets; our ships may rocket to new worlds; robots may be smarter than people. But we'll still have slick characters willing and able to turn a fast buck—even though they have to be smarter than Einstein to do it. Anson Drake sat quietly in the Flamebird Room of the Royal Gandyll Hotel, listening to the alien, but soothing strains of the native orchestra and sipping a drink. He knew perfectly well that he had no business displaying himself in public on the planet Thizar; there were influential Thizarians who held no love for a certain Earthman named Anson Drake. It didn't particularly bother Drake; life was danger and danger was life to him, and Anson Drake was known on half a hundred planets as a man who could take care of himself. Even so, he wouldn't have bothered to come if it had...

Elizabeth of England died in 1603. There came to the English throne James Stuart, King of Scotland, King now of England and Scotland. In 1604 a treaty of peace ended the long war with Spain. Gone was the sixteenth century; here, though in childhood, was the seventeenth century. Now that the wars were over, old colonization schemes were revived in the English mind. Of the motives, which in the first instance had prompted these schemes, some with the passing of time had become weaker, some remained quite as strong as before. Most Englishmen and women knew now that Spain had clay feet; and that Rome, though she might threaten, could not always perform what she threatened. To abase the pride of Spain, to make harbors of refuge for the angel of the Reformation—these wishes, though they had not vanished, though no man could know how long the peace with Spain...

By Dallas Lore Sharp AUTHOR OF “WILD LIFE NEAR HOME” AND “ROOF AND MEADOW” With Drawings by Elizabeth Myers Snagg BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY The Riverside Press Cambridge 1908 COPYRIGHT 1908 BY DALLAS LORE SHARP ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Published September 1908 To the Memory of my Friend William Frank Morrison, M. D. The Muskrats are Building We have had a series of long, heavy rains, and water is standing over the swampy meadow. It is a dreary stretch, this wet, sedgy land in the cold twilight, drearier than any part of the woods or the upland pastures. They are empty, but the meadow is flat and wet, naked and all unsheltered. And a November night is falling. The darkness deepens. A raw wind is rising. At nine o’clock the moon swings round and full to the crest of the ridge, and pours softly over. I button the...

The word "conducting" as used in a musical sense now ordinarily refers to the activities of an orchestra or chorus leader who stands before a group of performers and gives his entire time and effort to directing their playing or singing, to the end that a musically effective ensemble performance may result. This is accomplished by means of certain conventional movements of a slender stick called a baton (usually held in the right hand), as well as through such changes of facial expression, bodily posture, et cetera , as will convey to the singers or players the conductor's wishes concerning the rendition of the music. Conducting in this sense involves the responsibility of having the music performed at the correct tempo, with appropriate dynamic effects, with precise attacks and releases, and in a fitting spirit. This in turn implies that many details have been worked out in rehearsal, these including...

This section of New Sante Fe was off my beaten track. I've been on Mars a long time and am more than usually familiar with the various centers where we Terrans do our congregating. However, it'd been years since I'd come through here. I was sitting in an obscure tavern, called, with commendable restraint, simply Sam's Bar, lapping up Martian brandy and facing the prospect of returning to the spaceport in a few hours with no particular enthusiasm. I only half-noticed the old man who got up on the stool next to me. Sam came over and asked him what he'd have. The oldster carefully counted out some coins on the bar and said, "Wine, Sam; a glass of Martian wine." "You know I don't want your money, Joseph," Sam told him. The old man answered reproachfully, "The wine would taste that much the less, my friend, if I had...

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...

The idea of a great United British Empire seems to have originated on the North American Continent. When Canada was conquered and the power of France disappeared from North America, Great Britain then possessed the thirteen States or Colonies, as well as the Provinces of Quebec and Nova Scotia. The thirteen colonies had increased in population and wealth, and the British statesmen burdened with the heavy expenses of the French wars, which had been waged mainly for the protection of the American States, felt it only just that these Colonies should contribute something towards defraying the cost incurred in defending them. This raised the whole question of taxation without representation, and for ten years the discussion was waged vigorously between the Mother Country and the Colonists. A large number of the Colonists felt the justice of the claim of the Mother Country for some assistance, but foresaw the danger of...

That's not my real name up there, and in a little while you'll discover the reason why. If you read my real name attached to this, you'd think it was just another fantastic yarn I batted out and then you'd forget it. And you'd laugh. You'll probably laugh anyway—for awhile—but I've got to get this thing off my chest once and for all. I was a struggling science-fiction author at the time it began—or rather, just before it began. Nope, that's not right—struggling isn't the word; it doesn't express the blood, sweat and postage stamps that went into a creation, the hope and the futility that ran hot and cold with each morning's mail, the psychological and financial insecurity that comes to a beginner crazy enough to tackle such a field. And then, to top it off, I got a letter from Donald MacDonald. That's not his real name either,...

They came In friendship and love. They couldn't help the way they looked! Judge Carter Gates of the Third Circuit Court finished his chicken salad on whole wheat, thoughtfully crumpled the waxed paper bag and turned to drop it in the waste basket behind his chair—and sat transfixed. Through his second-floor office window, he saw a forty-foot flower-petal shape of pale turquoise settling gently between the well-tended petunia beds on the courthouse lawn. On the upper, or stem end of the vessel, a translucent pink panel popped up and a slender, graceful form not unlike a large violet caterpillar undulated into view. Judge Gates whirled to the telephone. Half an hour later, he put it to the officials gathered with him in a tight group on the lawn. "Boys, this thing is intelligent; any fool can see that. It's putting together what my boy assures me is some kind of...

  "Do you believe, Professor Gault, that this four dimensional plane contains life—intelligent life?" At the question, Gault laughed shortly. "You have been reading pseudo-science, Dr. Pillbot," he twitted. "I realize that as a psychiatrist, you are interested in minds, in living beings, rather than in dimensional planes. But I fear you will find no minds to study in the fourth dimension. There aren't any there!" Professor Gault paused, peered from beneath bushy white brows out over the laboratory. To his near sighted eyes the blurred figure of Harper, his young assistant, seemed busily at work over his mathematical charts. Gault hoped sourly that the young man was actually working and not just drawing more of his absurd, senseless designs amidst the mathematical computations.... "Your proof," Dr. Pillbot broke into his thoughts insistently, "is purely negative, Professor! How can you know there are no beings in the fourth dimension, unless...

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...

BEING AN EXPLANATION and VINDICATION OF THE PRINCIPLES and DOCTRINES Of the People called QUAKERS . Written in Latin and English By ROBERT BARCLAY , And since translated into High Dutch , Low Dutch , French , and Spanish , for the Information of Strangers. The Eighth Edition in ENGLISH . BIRMINGHAM ; Printed by JOHN BASKERVILLE, and sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster . M DCC LXV. And since translated into High Dutch , Low Dutch , French , and Spanish , for the Information of Strangers. The Eighth Edition in ENGLISH . BIRMINGHAM ; Printed by JOHN BASKERVILLE, and sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster . M DCC LXV. A Servant of Jesus Christ , called of God to the Dispensation of the Gospel now again revealed, and, after a long and dark Night of Apostasy , commanded to be preached to all Nations...

Hurtz went through the automatic motions of preparing himself for their landing on the small unnamed planet, but each thing he did was a wasted motion because it was really the boy, Jones, who was going to put the rocket down. And what could Hurtz do now? Hurtz touched his rough cheek with the back of his hand and swore silently. The hard, aging muscles of his body were taut, and although the lines about his eyes had deepened, his eyes, blue and sparkling, still retained their old ferocity. His eyebrows, although nearly completely gray now, intensified that ferocity with their thickness. Jones, the boy, moved his hands and the rocket made its turn clumsily, pointing its blazing fins at the strange globe beyond. Hurtz shook his head and asked himself why he had ever tried to help this cocky, all-knowing kid with the thin mouth and short-clipped hair. The...

(For these recipes, unless otherwise specified, make all measurements level. The use of measuring cups, divided into halves and thirds, is strongly urged, as well as the tea and table measuring spoons.) Every mother should begin to instruct her little daughter at an early age in the different branches of housekeeping, and if taught in the right way, none will prove more attractive than cooking. When quite young the child will be eager to experiment, and generally will be careful; and with many of the simple recipes she can scarcely make a mistake, and they will prove invaluable to her later on. Cooking is of great educational value. Aside from giving a girl that knowledge necessary to the proper conduct of a home, in the dextrous handling of utensils and food products, the concentration required, and the practice of doing certain work for certain results, it also gives excellent mental...

"You're nuts," came the reply, but the voice on the telephone was jovially reproving rather than sarcastic. "I can't do anything about this order." Peter Manton blinked. "But it has a Four-A-One priority." Brannon nodded—invisibly, of course—and said, "Sure you have a top priority. Anything your lab wants has top. But darn it, Peter, the best priority in the world isn't going to buy you a dozen mousetraps that are nonexistent." "But—" "Besides which, that building you're in is about as rat-proof as a sealed gasoline can. There isn't an item of comestible in the place." "I know that. And the mice can go hungry for all I care. But the mice don't seem to understand that bringing food into the place is not only forbidden by law but dangerous." "But there ain't a mousetrap in the country. Ding bust it, Peter, mousetraps take spring wire, and labor. The people...

It wasn't the grim thought that he would be dead in a few moments that filled the mind of Don Moffat so much as the bitter realization that a sixteen-year-old suspicion had been confirmed too late. Across the small room a mad light burned in the blood-shot eyes of his uncle. In spite of the raw liquor he had drunk, the grimy paw that held the old electronic gun was steady. Beyond the battered hut's open door heat-blasted desert pulsated as a tiny sun beat savagely down on the arid, sterile wastes from the inferno's distant rim. It was that southern rim, a mere uneven thread of rust, to which Don had raised his eyes so many times that day, his heart light with the thought that he was going to Propontis. And from Propontis to a greener world beyond—a world he had dreamed of one day seeing; a world...

We set out from London on a raw and rainy day. It had been raining off and on for many weeks, and as enthusiasts of the car we had been grumbling, my wife and I, a good deal at the weather. But we were booked for the land of sunshine! And when we bade good-bye to the chauffeur at Charing Cross Station, rather nervously watched the old grey car roll away among the traffic and the drizzling rain, we comforted each other with simple words about the sunshine that awaited us far off by the River Plate. Even Paris was dirty. I am an inveterate lover of Paris, and must have made some thirty different visits, but seldom out of season, so that I have rarely seen her draggle-tailed. But in that rainy March she looked as miserable as London, and next day only the luxurious accommodation of the Sud...

M ANY years have come and gone since I, Alan Gray, bade farewell to bonny Glenconan, in which I spent the happy days of my childhood; during these years I have feasted my eyes on some of the loveliest scenery in the Empire; my lot has been a most varied one, bringing me in contact with all sorts and conditions of men; yet in spite of these things I have never forgotten, and never can forget, the quiet sylvan beauty of my native glen, or the quaint old-world characters, who then lived in it, all now, alas, gone over to the great majority. The other day I had occasion to make a long and tedious journey across the snow-covered, frost-bound prairie. There was no wind to speak of; the air, though keen, was not too cold for comfort; my sleigh was well equipped, my horses strong and willing; my Jehu,...

EvER since, in 1901, I returned from my first journey into Chinese Turkestan, happy recollections of successful labour among its mountains and deserts kept my mind fixed upon the hope of fresh explorations. By the excavations I then effected it was my good fortune to bring to light for the first time authentic remains of that ancient civilization which, as the joint product of Indian, Chinese, and classical influences, had once flourished in the oases fringing the Tarim Basin. There was every reason to hope that explorations renewed over a wider area, and with a more liberal allowance of time and means, would be equally fruitful. But the very abundance of the results which had rewarded my first effort retarded the attainment of that eagerly sought chance. Their scientific elaboration had to precede a fresh journey, and to assure that elaboration in a manner befitting pioneer work in a new...

On the Doctrine of the Church of the Latter Day Saints. Of Faith. Section 1. 1. Faith being the first principle in revealed religion, and the foundation of all righteousness, necessarily claims the first place in a course of lectures which are designed to unfold to the understanding the doctrine of Jesus Christ. 2. In presenting the subject of faith, we shall observe the following order— 3. first, faith itself—what it is. 4. Secondly, the object on which it rests. And, 5. Thirdly, the effects which flow from it. 6. Agreeable to this order we have first to show what faith is. 7. The author of the epistle to the Hebrews, in the eleventh chapter of that epistle and first verse, gives the following definition of the word faith: 8. Now faith is the substance (assurance) of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. 9. From this we...

In most instances, emigration is a matter of necessity, not of choice; and this is more especially true of the emigration of persons of respectable connections, or of any station or position in the world. Few educated persons, accustomed to the refinements and luxuries of European society, ever willingly relinquish those advantages, and place themselves beyond the protective influence of the wise and revered institutions of their native land, without the pressure of some urgent cause. Emigration may, indeed, generally be regarded as an act of severe duty, performed at the expense of personal enjoyment, and accompanied by the sacrifice of those local attachments which stamp the scenes amid which our childhood grew, in imperishable characters, upon the heart. Nor is it until adversity has pressed sorely upon the proud and wounded spirit of the well-educated sons and daughters of old but impoverished families, that they gird up the loins...

Three men sat around a table which was littered with graphs, sketches of mathematical functions, and books of tensor formulae. Beside the table stood a Munson-Bradley integraph calculator which one of the men was using to check some of the equations he had already derived. The results they were getting seemed to indicate something well above and beyond what they had expected. And anything that surprised the team of Arcot, Wade, and Morey was surprising indeed. The intercom buzzed, interrupting their work. Dr. Richard Arcot reached over and lifted the switch. "Arcot speaking." The face that flashed on the screen was businesslike and determined. "Dr. Arcot, Mr. Fuller is here. My orders are to check with you on all visitors." Arcot nodded. "Send him up. But from now on, I'm not in to anyone but my father or the Interplanetary Chairman or the elder Mr. Morey. If they come, don't...

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...

"To the Right Reverend Father in God, the Lord Bishop of London. "62, Fleet Street, November 18,1833. "My Lord, "I have long and deliberately thought, that the state of the Country, the state of the Church, and the state of the Public Mind in relation to the Church, calls upon me to offer myself for an interview with your Lordship, as my Diocesan, that your Lordship may hear from me what I have to advance against the present state and condition of the Church, and what I have to propose as an immediately necessary and proper Reform. "I offer to wait on your Lordship, with your Lordship's consent; and promise, that my conversation shall be altogether courteous and reasonable. "I am one of your Lordship's scattered sheep, wishing for the fold of a good shepherd,—(which is Christ Jesus),— "RICHARD CARLILE." "P. S.—I may add, my Lord Bishop, that I am...

There are few stiller things than the stillness of a summer's noon such as this, a summer's noon in a broken woodland, with the deer asleep in the bracken, and the twitter of birds silent in the coppice, and hardly a leaf astir in the huge beeches that fling their cool shade over the grass. Afar off a gilded vane flares out above the grey Jacobean gables of Knoll, the chime of a village clock falls faintly on the ear, but there is no voice or footfall of living thing to break the silence as I turn over leaf after leaf of the little book I have brought with me from the bustle of town to this still retreat, a book that is the record of a broken life, of a life "broken off," as he who lived it says of another, "with a ragged edge." It is a book...

Illustrated by EMSH Frankston pushed listlessly at a red checker with his right forefinger. He knew the move would cost him a man, but he lacked enough interest in the game to plot out a safe move. His opponent, James, jumped the red disk with a black king and removed it from the board. Gregory, across the room, flicked rapidly through the pages of a magazine, too rapidly to be reading anything, or even looking at the pictures. Ross lay quietly on his bunk, staring out of the viewport. The four were strangely alike in appearance, nearly the same age, the age where gray hairs finally outnumber black, or baldness takes over. The age when the expanding waistline has begun to sag tiredly, when robust middle age begins the slow accelerating decline toward senility. A strange group to find aboard a spaceship, but then The Columbus was a very strange...

In my criminal work anything that wears skirts is a lady, until the law proves her otherwise. From the frayed and slovenly petticoats of the woman who owns a poultry stand in the market and who has grown wealthy by selling chickens at twelve ounces to the pound, or the silk sweep of Mamie Tracy, whose diamonds have been stolen down on the avenue, or the staidly respectable black and middle-aged skirt of the client whose husband has found an affinity partial to laces and fripperies, and has run off with her—all the wearers are ladies, and as such announced by Hawes. In fact, he carries it to excess. He speaks of his wash lady, with a husband who is an ash merchant, and he announced one day in some excitement, that the lady who had just gone out had appropriated all the loose change out of the pocket of...

AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, CHICAGO PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE 1908 Nihil Obstat F. THOMAS BERGH, O.S.B., Censor Deputatus. Imprimatur GULIELMUS, A cross Episcopus Arindelensis, Vicarius Generalis. WESTMONASTERII, Die 7 Feb., 1908. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE T HE name of Father Valuy, S.J., is already favourably known to English readers by several translations of his works, which have a large circulation. The following little treatise is taken from one of his works on the Religious Life, and is translated with the kind permission of the publisher, M. Emmanuel Vitte, of Lyons. The subject is so important a factor in community life that I feel confident it will supply a want hitherto felt by many. Though specially written for religious, it cannot fail to prove beneficial to seculars in every sphere of life, as love, the sunshine of existence, is wanted everywhere. I. CHARITY THE PECULIAR VIRTUE OF CHRIST II. FIRST...

"Mr. F.A. McKenzie has been abused in the columns of the Japanese press_ with a violence which, in the absence of any reasoned controversy, indicated a last resource. In answer to his specific charges, only one word has been uttered—'lies!' "Yet these charges embrace crimes of the first magnitude—murder, plunder, outrage, incendiarism, and in short all the horrors that make up tyranny of the worst description. It is difficult to see how Mr. McKenzie's sincerity could be called into question, for he, too, like many other critics of the new Administration, was once a warm friend and supporter of Japan. "In those days, his contributions were quoted at great length in the newspapers of Tokyo, while the editorial columns expressed their appreciation of his marked capacity. So soon, however, as he found fault with the conditions prevailing in Korea, he was contemptuously termed a 'yellow journalist' and a 'sensation monger.'"—...

First Contact was always dangerous—but usually only to the man involved! From space, the planet Viridian resembled a great green moss-covered tennis ball. When the spaceship had arrowed even closer to the lush jungle that was the surface of the 7000-mile sphere, there was still no visible break in the green cloak of the planet. Even when they dipped almost below their margin of safety—spaceships were poorly built for extended flight within the atmosphere—it took nearly a complete circuit of the planet before a triangle of emptiness was spotted. It was in the midst of the tangled canopy of treetops, themselves interwoven inextricably with coarse-leaved ropy vines that sprawled and coiled about the upthrust branches like underfed anacondas. Into the center of this triangle the ship was lowered on sputtering blue pillars of crackling energy, to come to rest on the soft loamy earth. A bare instant after setdown, crewmen...

There's a library in a small town near Charles Neck on Murdock Sound. It's so run down and useless that a lot of old books still hang around on the shelves, the big kind with stiff backs and all kinds of fancy little stars or small, curly designs to show the end of one section and the beginning of another. Very quaint. After the WFI took over the Sound in our remote area, I didn't have much to do in the day time, so I used to walk down the road to town and get a handful of these stiff backs once in a while. From reading them I got the notion I'm a one man resistance movement, which is pitiful and foolish, and, I gather, always has been a seedy, run-down sort of thing, a backward state of mind and feelings. That's me, alright: backward. I tried to be...

Liberty’s Knight— L’Homme des Deux Mondes —Ancestry of La Fayette—His Birth and Early Years—Youthful Enthusiasm—College Life—Introduction to the French Court—Vast Inheritance—A Page to the Queen—Member of the Mousquetaires du Roi —Promoted a Commissioned Officer—Personal Appearance—Early Marriage—His Wife’s Family—Stationed at Metz—News of the American Revolution—Influence on La Fayette—His Resolve—Opposition—Visit to London—Return to Paris—Secret Preparations—Sovereign Displeasure—Hasty Flight—Aboard the Victory —Letters to his Wife. LA FAYETTE was not only the Knight of Liberty in two worlds and in two centuries, but was also the champion of law and order. Other men have fought for freedom; but few men in history have so truly and broadly comprehended the indissoluble tie which must ever bind liberty to law, if the shackles of oppression be unloosed, and the equal rights of men become the watchwords of national peace and prosperity. The battle of Minden, in 1758, was fought, and a young and valiant French marquis sacrificed...

If you cannot get the "good old days" out of your mind, there is only one person to blame—Edgar's grandmother! Folks who knew Edgar Evans said he was a strange young man. Certainly he was the darling of the old ladies and the despair of the young. The sternest fathers positively beamed when Edgar called for their daughters, but fellows his own age declared in the authoritative tones of youth that Edgar was a square. Handsome enough he was. The real reason for all the fuss was Edgar's manners. The trouble was that he had them. For Edgar had been orphaned at four by an Oklahoma tornado and raised by his Hoosier grandmother, a dear old lady whose hand had once been kissed by a passing Barrymore. The result was Edgar's manners. He realized, of course, that one didn't kiss a lady's hand these days, but such was Edgar's gracious...

A man's food, when he has the means and opportunity of selecting it, suggests his moral nature. Many a Christian is trying to do by prayer that which cannot be done except through corrected diet.— Talmage. Our pious ancestors enacted a law that suicides should be buried where four roads meet, and that a cart-load of stones should be thrown upon the body. Yet, when gentlemen or ladies commit suicide, not by cord or steel, but by turtle soup or lobster salad, they may be buried on consecrated ground, and the public are not ashamed to read an epitaph upon their tombstones false enough to make the marble blush.— Horace Mann. It is related by a gentleman who had an appointment to breakfast with the late A.T. Stewart, that the butler placed before them both an elaborate bill of fare; the visitor selected a list of rare dishes, and was...

Five skins with skulls of Rhogeëssa , collected by J. R. Alcorn in the states of Sonora and Nayarit of western Mexico, were recently received at the Museum of Natural History of the University of Kansas. Two other specimens of the same genus, collected by Walter W. Dalquest in the state of Veracruz of eastern Mexico, also are in the Museum of Natural History. With the aim of applying names to these bats they were compared with materials in the United States National Museum (including the Biological Surveys collection) where there are approximately the same number of Mexican specimens of Rhogeëssa as are in the Museum of Natural History. The three kinds of Rhogeëssa named from Mexico are as follows: R. parvula from the Tres Marias Islands off the west coast of Nayarit; R. tumida from Mirador, Veracruz, on the eastern slope of the Republic; and R. gracilis from Piaxtla,...

lsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the 25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century. Now it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an equal interest 500 years from now—particularly in view of that unique perspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I did, in one leap across a gap of 492 years. This statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world who are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now there may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure any worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D. and the present time. I should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know, the only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has been spread...

The story of the first few centuries of Arctic exploration can, of course, never be written. The early Norsemen, to whom must go the credit for most of the first discoveries, were a piratical race, and their many voyages were conducted, for the most part, in a strictly business-like spirit. Occasionally one of them would happen on a new country by accident, just as Naddod the Viking happened upon Iceland in 861 by being driven there by a gale while on his way to the Faroe Islands. Occasionally a curious adventurer would follow in the footsteps of one of these early discoverers, but no serious attempt was made to widen the field of knowledge thus opened up, unless the Norsemen saw their way to entering upon commercial relations with the natives, to the great disadvantage of the latter. AN OLD MAP OF THE POLAR REGIONS FROM NARBOROUGH’S “VOYAGES” (1694) The...

On the Wednesday or Thursday of Holy Week of the year 1772 the inhabitants of the squalid and dilapidated little mountain towns between Ancona and Loreto were thrown into great excitement by the passage of a travelling equipage, doubtless followed by two or three dependent chaises, of more than usual magnificence. The people of those parts have little to do now-a-days, and must have had still less during the Pontificate of His Holiness Pope Clement XIV.; and we can imagine how all the windows of the unplastered houses, all the black and oozy doorways, must have been lined with heads of women and children; how the principal square of each town, where the horses were changed, must have been crowded with inquisitive townsfolk and peasants, whispering, as they hung about the carriages, that the great traveller was the young Queen of England going to meet her bridegroom; a thing to...

DIFFERENT FORMS OF THE CROSS. The simple cross made with two sticks or marks belongs to prehistoric times. Its first appearance among men is lost in antiquity. One may theorize as to its origin, but there is no historical identification of it either in epoch or by country or people. The sign is itself so simple that it might have originated among any people, however primitive, and in any age, however remote. The meaning given to the earliest cross is equally unknown. Everything concerning its beginning is in the realm of speculation. But a differentiation grew up in early times among nations by which certain forms of the cross have been known under certain names and with specific significations. Some of these, such as the Maltese cross, are historic and can be well identified. The principal forms of the cross, known as symbols or ornaments, can be reduced to a...

Considering it was nearly the height of the London winter season, the Great Empire Hotel was not unusually crowded. This might perhaps have been owing to the fact that two or three of the finest suites of rooms in the building had been engaged by Mark Fenwick, who was popularly supposed to be the last thing in the way of American multi-millionaires. No one knew precisely who Fenwick was, or how he had made his money; but during the last few months his name had bulked largely in the financial Press and the daily periodicals of a sensational character. So far, the man had hardly been seen, it being understood that he was suffering from a chill, contracted on his voyage to Europe. Up to the present moment he had taken all his meals in his rooms, but it was whispered now that the great man was coming down to...

SHE was twenty-two years old, fresh out of college, full of life and hope, and all set to conquer the world. Colin Fraser happened to be on vacation on Cape Cod, where she was playing summer stock, and went to more shows than he had planned. It wasn't hard to get an introduction, and before long he and Judy Sanders were seeing a lot of each other. "Of course," she told him one afternoon on the beach, "my real name is Harkness." He raised his arm, letting the sand run through his fingers. The beach was big and dazzling white around them, the sea galloped in with a steady roar, and a gull rode the breeze overhead. "What was wrong with it?" he asked. "For a professional monicker, I mean." She laughed and shook the long hair back over her shoulders. "I wanted to live under the name of Sanders,"...

The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. He was wrapped up from head to foot, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid every inch of his face but the shiny tip of his nose; the snow had piled itself against his shoulders and chest, and added a white crest to the burden he carried. He staggered into the “Coach and Horses” more dead than alive, and flung his portmanteau down. “A fire,” he cried, “in the name of human charity! A room and a fire!” He stamped and shook the snow from off himself in the bar, and followed Mrs. Hall into her guest parlour to strike his bargain. And with that much...

Religion, in some form or other, seems to have been observed by mankind, in all ages and all parts of the world; and considered as the most noble employment, of the most divine nature, and producing the most beneficial effects to society, of all the objects that ever engaged their attention: although from casual circumstances, and interested motives of individuals, there are as many modes and varieties of worship, as languages or nations on the face of the earth. Europeans have in general embraced Christianity, as contained in the Bible, which they call the Word of God, as the only true and infallible system on earth, and which only can lead us to eternal happiness. This Bible, we have been taught to believe, is holy, just, perfect, and superior to the human understanding; so sacred, that to doubt or disbelieve it, would entail on us inevitable never-ending misery. This doctrine,...

The Annals of Music in America during the first hundred years contain very little that would seem to be of any importance to the musicians of today. Nevertheless it is as interesting to note the beginnings of music in this newly settled country as to watch the appearance of the baby's first tooth. The first settlement at Plymouth took place in 1620, and we find that in 1640 the colonists were already busy with the printing press in Cambridge, Mass., and the second book which came from the press was a reprint of an English Psalm book, printed under the title of the Bay Psalm Book. This was not an original work, but its production shows that music was already a living problem, and was even then part of the life of the colonists. Practically nothing more of note happened until the importation of the first pipe organ, in 1700....

H aving made up my mind to write an account of the life and conversation, and to a large extent of the actions of my lord and patron King Charles, of great and deservedly glorious memory, I have compressed my task within the narrowest possible limits. My aim has been on the one hand to insert everything of which I have been able to find an account; and on the other to avoid offending the fastidious by telling each new incident at wearisome length. Above all, I have tried to avoid offending in this new book those who look down upon even the monuments of antiquity written by learned and eloquent men. There are, I do not doubt, many men of learning and leisure who feel that the life of the present day must not be utterly neglected, and that the doings of [pg 5] our own time should not...

"Really great criminals are never found out, for the simple reason that the greatest crimes—their crimes—are never discovered," remarked Professor Augustus S. F. X. Van Dusen positively. "There is genius in the perpetration of crime, Mr. Grayson, just as there must be in its detection, unless it is the shallow work of a bungler. In this latter case there have been instances where even the police have uncovered the truth. But the expert criminal, the man of genius—the professional, I may say—regards as perfect only that crime which does not and cannot be made to appear a crime at all; therefore one that can never under any circumstances involve him, or anyone else." The financier, J. Morgan Grayson, regarded this wizened little man of science—The Thinking Machine—thoughtfully, through the smoke of his cigar. "It is a strange psychological fact that the casual criminal glories in his crime beforehand, and from...

After an interval of more than fifty years, I propose taking a second look at some parts of Europe. It is a Rip Van Winkle experiment which I am promising myself. The changes wrought by half a century in the countries I visited amount almost to a transformation. I left the England of William the Fourth, of the Duke of Wellington, of Sir Robert Peel; the France of Louis Philippe, of Marshal Soult, of Thiers, of Guizot. I went from Manchester to Liverpool by the new railroad, the only one I saw in Europe. I looked upon England from the box of a stage-coach, upon France from the coupé of a diligence, upon Italy from the cushion of a carrozza. The broken windows of Apsley House were still boarded up when I was in London. The asphalt pavement was not laid in Paris. The Obelisk of Luxor was lying in...

"The World's Sixteen Crucified Saviors." What an imposing title for a book! What startling developments of religious history it implies! Is it founded on fact or on fiction? If it has a basis of truth, where was such an extraordinary mine of sacred lore discovered? Where were such startling facts obtained as the title of the work suggests. These queries will doubtless arise as soliloquies in the minds of many readers on glancing at the title-page. And the author is disposed to gratify this natural and most probable, in some cases, excited curiosity by a brief explanation. In doing this, he deems it only necessary, to state that many of the most important facts collated in this work were derived from Sir Godfrey Higgins' Anacalypsis, a work as valuable as it is rare—a work comprising the result of twenty years' labor, devoted to the investigation of religious history. And although...

Supreme General Hoshawk, chief of staff, watched with piercing gray eyes while the President of the United States of the Western Hemisphere, Jeffrey Wadsworth, lay relaxed under a cosmic-ray lamp, with no covering but a towel over his loins. The surgeon-general of the Hemispheric Armies raised his hand, and the lamp receded. "Is that enough?" Hoshawk asked dryly. "It's the maximum, even for him," said the surgeon-general. "His reflexes will be faster than light itself." Hoshawk grunted, his eyes narrow. As far as he could see, the speed of a man's reflexes, even of a man who was about to champion seven hundred million persons, wasn't as important as the man's loyalty or his sense of personal responsibility. And Hoshawk did not have much use for Wadsworth. Augusto Iraola of Brazil, deputy president for South America, stepped forward from the group of forty men. He asked the President anxiously, "How...

I am a quadroon, that is, I am of one-fourth African blood, and three-fourths Anglo-Saxon. I graduated at Oneida Institute, in Whitesboro', New York, in 1844; subsequently studied Law with Ellis Gray Loring, Esq., of Boston, Massachusetts; and was thence called to the Professorship of the Greek and German languages, and of Rhetoric and Belles-Lettres of New York Central College, situated in Mc. Grawville, Cortland County,—the only College in America that has ever called a colored man to a Professorship, and one of the very few that receive colored and white students on terms of perfect equality, if, indeed, they receive colored students at all. In April, 1851, I was invited to Fulton, to deliver a course of Lectures. I gladly accepted the invitation, and none the less that Fulton had always maintained a high reputation for its love of impartial freedom, and that its citizens were highly respected for...

ITALIAN YESTERDAYS BY MRS. HUGH FRASER Author of “A Diplomatist’s Wife in Japan,” “A Diplomatist’s Wife in Many Lands,” “Reminiscences of a Diplomatist’s Wife,” etc. VOL. I NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1913 Copyright, 1913, by DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY Published November, 1913 CHAPTER I PAGE Impressions of Early Rome 1 Romance and Companionship of the Past—Rome the Supremely Beloved—Pictures and Legends of Her Origin—Migration of the Alban Shepherds—Romulus and Remus—Etruria’s Civilisation—Whole World Contributes to Rome’s Growth—Brilliant Scenes in the Roman World—Rome’s High Destiny—Numa Pompilius, the Law-giver—Egeria’s Grotto—Love Story of Herodes Atticus and Annia Regilla—Early Christianity. CHAPTER II Reminiscences of Modern Rome 18 Rome’s Seasons—Childhood Memories of a Roman Spring—My Birthday Festival—A Day in the Country—The Appian Way—Rome’s Great Wall—An Adventure with the Campagna Steers—Campagna Sheep-Dogs—Early Morning Street Scenes—The Giardino Colonna—Secluded Italian Gardens—Inroads of Commercialism—Discovery of a Dream-Garden of the Renaissance—Song of the Nightingale in the Lost Italian Garden....

General Introduction For the Independent Journal. HAMILTON To the People of the State of New York: After an unequivocal experience of the inefficacy of the subsisting federal government, you are called upon to deliberate on a new Constitution for the United States of America. The subject speaks its own importance; comprehending in its consequences nothing less than the existence of the UNION, the safety and welfare of the parts of which it is composed, the fate of an empire in many respects the most interesting in the world. It has been frequently remarked that it seems to have been reserved to the people of this country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force. If...

Abraham Lockwood was born on the 3rd November, 1792. His birthplace, also called Lockwood, is situated about a mile and half out of Huddersfield. It makes no pretensions to importance in any way. The only public building which it boasts, is the Mechanics' Institute, a structure of moderate size, yet substantially built. Its one main street is lined with some very excellent shops, some of whose owners, report says, have made a nice little competency there. It still boasts a toll-bar of its own, which is guarded on either side by two white wooden posts, that take the liberty of preventing all cattle, horses, and asses from evading the gate, and of unceremoniously squeezing into the narrowest limits every person who prefers pavement to the highroad. Lockwood is also important enough to receive the attention of two or three 'buses which ply to and fro between there and Huddersfield, as...

"A life-saver!" Mick said, bringing the space freighter down with a gentle bump on the huge, shapeless mass of rock and iron that floated between Mars and Jupiter. The term huge was purely relative, for the asteroid was scarcely ten miles in diameter at its thickest point, and its axis could not have been more than twelve miles long. Mick switched off the rockets, opened a locker and pulled forth a suit of heavy, furlined, airtight garments which he slipped over his uniform. The communication speaker buzzed. "Hey, Mick! Are you still on the bridge?" Alf Rankin was calling from the charting room. "Yes, Alf. What's the trouble." Mick Conner was sealing his space suit. "This isn't an ordinary asteroid, Mick. It isn't barren. There's stuff growing on it." "That's nothing to get goggle-eyed about, Alf. There's moss on Eros which is smaller than this. And there are 142 different...

In the year 1791, Woodward sailed from Boston in the ship Robert Morris, Captain Hay, for the East Indies. On his arrival there he was employed in making country voyages until the 20th of January, when he sailed as chief-mate in an American ship from Batavia bound to Manilla. In passing through the straits of Macassar, they found the wind and current both against them, and after beating up for six weeks they fell short of provision. Captain Woodward and five seamen were sent to purchase some from a vessel about four leagues distant. They were without water, provisions, or compass,—having on board only an axe, a boat hook, two penknives, a useless gun and forty dollars in cash. They reached the ship at sunset, and were told by the captain that he had no provision to spare as he was bound to China and was victualled for only one...

By means of a lorry lift from railhead, and a horse borrowed from the Divisional Ammunition Column, I found Brigade Headquarters in a village that the Germans had occupied before their retreat in the spring of 1917. The huge, red-faced, grey-haired adjutant, best of ex-ranker officers, welcomed me on the farmhouse steps with a hard handshake and a bellowing "Cheerio!" followed by, "Now that you're back, I can go on leave." In the mess the colonel gave me kindly greeting, and told me something of the Brigade's ups and downs since I had left France in August 1917, wounded at Zillebeke: how all the old and well-tried battery commanders became casualties before 1917 was out, but how, under young, keen, and patiently selected leaders, the batteries were working up towards real efficiency again. Then old "Swiffy," the veterinary officer, came in, and the new American doctor, who appeared armed with...

He heard the star-port grind open, and the movement of the metal claws groping into space, and then the star-port closed. There was another dead man aboard the Constellation . Sam Burnett shook his long head, trying to think clearly. Pallid and quiet, three bodies lay on the cold transparent tables around him; machines stirred, revolved, hummed. He didn't see them. He didn't see anything but a red haze over his mind. It blotted out the far wall of the laboratory where the shelves went up and down, numbered in scarlet, keeping the bodies of soldiers from all further harm. Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical gown, staring at his fingers gloved in bone-white rubber; feeling all tight and wild inside himself. It went on for days. Moving the ship. Opening the star-port. Extending the retriever claw. Plucking some poor warrior's body out of the...

A couple of weeks ago I went to Washington to contradict under the solemn obligation of my oath a gross and wanton calumny which, based upon nothing but anonymous and irresponsible gossip, had been uttered regarding my name. On my way between New York and Washington, thinking that, once on the stand, I might possibly be asked a number of questions more or less within the general scope of the Committee's enquiry, I indulged in a little mental exercise by putting myself through an imaginary examination. With your permission, I will read a few of these phantom questions and answers: Should the Exchange Be "Regulated"? Question: There is a fairly widespread impression that the functions of the Stock Exchange should be circumscribed and controlled by some governmental authority; that it needs reforming from without. What have you to say on that subject? Answer: I need not point out to your...

U.S. DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR GEOLOGICAL SURVEY Shaded relief map of Yellowstone National Park. [ This map in a higher resolution ] Ferdinand Vandiveer Hayden and the Founding of the Yellowstone National Park One of the prime movers among the many explorers of the west who played key roles in establishing the Yellowstone National Park was Ferdinand Vandiveer Hayden of the U. S. Geological and Geographical Survey of the Territories, a predecessor of today’s U. S. Geological Survey. His signal accomplishments, in 1871-72, were among the many highlights of a long and distinguished career in public service. Hayden’s professional training was as a doctor of medicine. It is a tribute to his determination and energy that he reached this professional status. Born in Westfield, Massachusetts, on September 7, 1829, he was, in his early youth, sent by his widowed mother to live with an uncle on a farm in Rochester,...

Anne Meredith looked at her mother, appalled. “Marry David Curtis!” she exclaimed. “Marry a man I have seen not more than a dozen times. Are you mad?” “No, but your uncle is,” bitterly. “God knows what has prompted this sudden philanthropy,” hesitating for a word. “This sudden desire to, as he expresses it, ‘square accounts’ with the past by insisting that you marry David Curtis or be disinherited.” “Disinherited—?” “Just so”—her mother’s gesture was expressive. “Having brought you up as his heiress, he now demands that you carry out his wishes.” “And if I refuse—?” “We are to leave the house at once.” Anne stared at her mother. “It is too melodramatic for belief,” she said, and laughed a trifle unsteadily. “This is the twentieth century—women are not bought and paid for. I,” with a proud lift of her head, “I can work.” “And starve—” Mrs. Meredith shrugged her shapely...