Genre Adventure. Page - 9

perityand safety of the inhabitants, at once by the profuseness ofembellishment in those newly erected, and by the neglect of thejealous precautions required in former days of confusion andmisrule. Thus it was with the village of Lynwood, where, amongthe cottages and farm-houses occupying a fertile valley inSomersetshire, arose the ancient Keep, built of gray stone,and strongly fortified; but the defences were kept up ratheras appendages of the owner's rank, than as requisite for hisprotection;

" said Uncle Dick, after a time. "I doubt if we could do it all the way by boat by September. But I'll see your teacher, here in St. Louis, where we're all going to winter this year, and arrange with him to let you study outside for the first few weeks of the fall term in case we don't get back. You'll have to work while you travel, understand that."The boys all agreed to this and gave their promise to do their best, if only they could be allowed to make this wonderful trip over

"The Mississippi Bubble" by Emerson Hough is a historical novel set in the early 18th century, following the story of John Law and the economic phenomenon that came to be known as the Mississippi Bubble. Hough skillfully weaves together historical facts and fictional characters to create a gripping tale of greed, ambition, and financial ruin. The novel provides a vivid and detailed portrayal of the social and economic conditions of the time, immersing the reader in the culture and

"The Way of a Man" by Emerson Hough is a classic novel that follows the life of John Wesley Pringle, a man who sets out to make a name for himself in the American West. Through his trials and tribulations, Pringle learns the value of hard work, integrity, and courage, ultimately finding success and happiness on his own terms. Hough's writing is both evocative and insightful, transporting readers to a bygone era of rugged landscapes and daring adventurers. Filled with memorable

; and the boat's going to start inside of an hour, and we're going to start with her!"Sure enough, when at last the heavy boom of the Yucatan's warning whistle caused the window glass along the main street to tremble, a little party once more wended its way down the sidewalk toward the wharf. Uncle Dick led the way, earnestly talking with three very grave and anxious mothers. Behind him, perfectly happy, and shouting excitedly to one another, came Rob, Jesse, and John. Each carried a rifle

d under the Brooklyn Bridge span at Dover Street and turned into South, where Christmas Eve is so joyous, in its way. The way on this particular evening was in no place more clearly interpreted than Red Murphy's resort, where the guild of Battery rowboatmen, who meet steamships in their Whitehall boats and carry their hawsers to longshoremen waiting to make them fast to the pier bitts, congregate and have their social being.Here, on this day, the wealthy towboat-owners and captains are wont to

as at sea on aclear day, with one line of light, definite as the cut of a sword.The Provencal threw his arms round the trunk of one of the palm trees,as though it were the body of a friend, and then, in the shelter ofthe thin, straight shadow that the palm cast upon the granite, hewept. Then sitting down he remained as he was, contemplating withprofound sadness the implacable scene, which was all he had to lookupon. He cried aloud, to measure the solitude. His voice, lost in thehollows of the

ed another door, which ushered him at once into a very large hall, the aspect of which quite bewildered him. There were a great many desks and tables about the hall, with clerks writing at them, and people coming and going with passports and permits in their hands. Rollo stepped forward into the room, surveying the scene with great curiosity and wonder, when his attention was suddenly arrested by the voice of a soldier, who rose suddenly from his chair, and said,--"Your cap, young

p>"Lost your captain and both mates! How in the name of Fortune did that happen?""Well, sir, you see it was this way," was the reply. "When we'd been out about a week--we're from Liverpool, bound to Sydney, New South Wales, with a general cargo and two hundred emigrants--ninety-seven days out--when we'd been out about a week, or thereabouts--I ain't certain to a day or two, but it's all wrote down in the log--Cap'n Somers were found dead in his bunk by the steward