Genre Fiction. Page - 195

I am quite delighted."So Jolly Robin laughed happily. And old Mr. Crow remarked that it was a fair laugh, though not so loud as he would have liked. "I'll do better next time," Jolly assured him. "Good!" said Mr. Crow. "And now, since I've finished my breakfast, we'll go over to the woods and see what's going on there this morning." The first person they saw in the woods was Peter Mink. He was fishing for trout in Broad Brook. And old Mr. Crow, as soon as he

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

ty wheresoever in life itchooses to turn the light of its gaze. So, also, in "Andrea delSarto," the easy cleverness of the unaspiring craftsman is notembodied apart from the abject relationship which made his very soula bond- slave to the gross mandates of "the Cousin's whistle." Yetin all three poems the biographic and historic conditions contributing toward the individualizing of each artist are sounobtrusively epitomized and vitally blended, that, while scarcelyany item

light, from the Record and State PaperOffice, and historical societies, will throw much light on thesubject]; and an abundant harvest offers in examining them, bywhich to make an amusing book, illustrative of our provincialwords and ancient manners. I think we cannot avoid arriving at theconclusion, that the Anglo-Saxon dialect, of which I conceive theWestern dialect to be a striking portion, has been graduallygiving way to our polished idiom; and is considered a barbarism,and yet many of the

e said as he stepped in.He was a large-boned, long-limbed man with a stoop in his broad shoulders. His hair was rough as a crow's nest, grayish and tangled, but his face was of a deep yet clear pink, seemingly out of keeping with his coarse, rugged features and bushy eyebrows. Erik Grubbe invited him to a seat and asked about his haymaking. The conversation dwelt on the chief labors of the farm at that season and died away in a sigh over the poor harvest of last year. Meanwhile the pastor was

s be'n ter Noo Orleens, an' Atlanty, an'Charleston, an' Richmon'; an' w'en I 'd be'n all ober de Souf I come terde Norf. Fer I knows I 'll fin' 'im some er dese days," she addedsoftly, "er he 'll fin' me, an' den we 'll bofe be as happy in freedomas we wuz in de ole days befo' de wah." A smile stole over her witheredcountenance as she paused a moment, and her bright eyes softened into afar-away look.This was the substance of the old woman's story. She had wandered alittle here

nd Nan were the oldertwins, and Flossie and Freddie the younger. You are first told aboutthem in the book called "The Bobbsey Twins," and in that you learn thatthe Bobbsey family, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Bobbsey and theirfour children, lived in Lakeport, an eastern city on the shore of LakeMetoka, where Mr. Bobbsey had a lumber business.In the family, though not exactly members of it, were Dinah, the jolly,fat, colored cook, and Sam Johnson, her husband. Then we must not

t of the "L" below them. It was perhaps six miles across; and all over the comparatively smooth surface jutted dark projections. Viewed through the glasses, they had a regular, uniform appearance."By Jove!" ejaculated the doctor, almost in awe. He leaned forward and scrubbed the dead-light for the tenth time. All four men strained their eyes to see. It was the architect who broke the silence which followed. The other three were content to let the thrill of the thing have its

ity with Song-jin was destined to serve him as wife or mistress. Song-jin bore the name of his hermit father, Yang, and the name given him at birth. Master Yang, as we shall now know him, was a child of such beauty and a youth of such wisdom that the governor of his county called him the "Marvellous Lad" and offered to recommend him to the Court. His physical strength, learning and ability in the Classics and composition, his marvellous knowledge of astronomy and geomancy, his

our eighth landing, all that passed. For R-14 was old again, older than any of the others.And then, on October sixteenth, Mason opened the door of the locked cabin. It happened quite by accident. One of the arelium-thaxide conduits broke in the Marie Galante's central passageway, and the resulting explosion grounded the central feed line of the instrument equipment. In a trice the passageway was a sheet of flame, rapidly filling with smoke from burning insulation. Norris, of course, was in the