Genre Fiction. Page - 183

o! my songs have crossed the ocean But the voice of my emotion finds no word. SEE? If one proves weak who you fancied strong, Or false who you fancied true, Just ease the smart of your wounded heart By the thought that it is not you! If many forget a promise made, And your faith falls into the dust, Then look meanwhile in your mirror and smile, And say, '_I_ am one to trust!' If you search in vain for an ageing face Unharrowed by fretful fears, Then make right now (and keep) a vow To grow in

"Lazy Thoughts of a Lazy Girl" by Jenny Wren is a witty and humorous collection of essays and musings on the art of laziness. Through a series of relatable and entertaining anecdotes, Wren explores the joys and pitfalls of a life lived at a leisurely pace, touching on topics such as procrastination, napping, and the art of doing nothing. Her writing is light-hearted and whimsical, but also insightful, encouraging readers to embrace their inner laziness and find beauty in the quiet

to Central Park, where the scene was to be filmed, or photographed over again--a "retake," as it is called, the bane alike of camera men and directors.And while the girls--the moving picture girls--are on their way to do over a bit of work, I shall take the opportunity of telling my new readers something about Ruth and Alice DeVere. I have called them just what they are: "The Moving Picture Girls," and that is the title of the first volume of this series, which depicts them

fe. One sees that dead, vacant look steal sometimes over the rarest, finest of women's faces,--in the very midst, it may be, of their warmest summer's day; and then one can guess at the secret of intolerable solitude that lies hid beneath the delicate laces and brilliant smile. There was no warmth, no brilliancy, no summer for this woman; so the stupor and vacancy had time to gnaw into her face perpetually. She was young, too, though no one guessed it; so the gnawing was the fiercer.She lay

enever one of those beings becomes cognisable by us, he instantly becomes subject to gravitation; and he must resume his own mode of being ere he can be free from its consequences. The Angels were not subject to gravitation; that is to say, they had the means of moving in any direction at will. When they rebelled, and were punished by expulsion from Heaven, they did not fall out; for, in fact, so far as the description intimates, there existed no planet, no distinct material element, towards

"In this manner we should have enough to last us three days -- maybe more -- with equal shares among the three of us..." Such was his summing of the demonstration, and it passed without comment, as a matter of course in the premises, that he should count as he did -- ignoring that other who sat alone at the stern of the raft, the black Canaque, the fourth man. Perroquet had been out-manoeuvred, but he listened sullenly while for the hundredth time Dubosc recited his easy and definite

, ye 'llhave to bail her out. Besides," he added whimsically, looking up atthe sky, "there 's another squall coming on, and two at a time is toomany for any sailor. If I 'm to cast you up on the shore same as thewhale, ye 'll have to tell me which way to go, and who ye are.""Our father is Josiah Pepperell," answered Dan, "and our house isalmost a mile back from shore near Cambridge." "So you 're Josiah Pepperell's children! To be sure, to be sure!

ortable old fashioned place, situated in one of the most picturesque parts of Sussex. The property was not large, but being so near to fashionable Brighton, the land was valuable, and more than one tempting offer had been made to Sir Lester to part with it for building purposes. The mere thought of The Downs estate being cut up by jerry builders irritated him. His affairs would be in a very bad way when he parted with the place for such a purpose. His house at Hove had turned out a profitable