Genre Fiction. Page - 212

licia and the angelic baby."What is the matter, Papa?" "I am dreadfully poor, my child." "Have you no money at all, Papa?" [Illustration: "What is the matter, Papa?"] "None my child." "Is there no way left of getting any, Papa?" "No way," said the King. "I have tried very hard, and I have tried all ways." When she heard those last words, the Princess Alicia began to put her hand into the pocket where she kept the

e ricks in farmers' yards. Out-door work was abandoned, horse-troughs at road- side inns were frozen hard, no stragglers lounged about, doors were close shut, little turnpike houses had blazing fires inside, and children (even turnpike people have children, and seem to like them) rubbed the frost from the little panes of glass with their chubby arms, that their bright eyes might catch a glimpse of the solitary coach going by. I don't know when the snow begin to set in; but I know that we were

an with the accuracy of a sculptor's eye. "There is onepoint, however, or, rather, two points, in respect to which our friendDonatello's abundant curls will not permit us to say whether the likenessis carried into minute detail."And the sculptor directed the attention of the party to the ears of thebeautiful statue which they were contemplating. But we must do more than merely refer to this exquisite work of art; itmust be described, however inadequate may be the effort to express

o dispose of the miserable horse that hasbrought me hither, and am preparing to continue the journey on foot."Although he seemed to recite this story tranquilly enough, Iobserved the tears start to his eyes as he concluded. Thisadventure struck me as being not less singular than it wasaffecting. "I do not press you," said I to him, to make me theconfidant of your secrets; but if I can be of use to you in anyway, I gladly tender you my services." "Alas!" replied

een taught to write, by the young man without arms, who got his living with his toes (quite a writing master HE was, and taught scores in the line), but Chops would have starved to death, afore he'd have gained a bit of bread by putting his hand to a paper. This is the more curious to bear in mind, because HE had no property, nor hope of property, except his house and a sarser. When I say his house, I mean the box, painted and got up outside like a reg'lar six-roomer, that he used to creep

Mermaid, the professor, theboys, Washington and Andy, sailed until they came to the greatshaft leading downward. Then the ship rose in the air anddescended through clouds of vapor. After many perils theyreached the center of the earth, where they found a strange raceof beings.One day, to their horror, an earthquake dosed the shaft by whichthey had come to the center of the earth. The boys were indespair of ever getting to the surface again, but the professorhad been prepared for this emergency,

ll you?"Mr. Sloane found compliance impossible. He could not steady his hand sufficiently. "Hold that torch, judge," Hastings prompted. "It's knocked me out--completely," Sloane said, surrendering the torch to Wilton. Webster, the pallor still on his face, a look of horror in his eyes, stood on the side of the body opposite the detective. At brief intervals he raised first one foot, then the other, clear of the ground and set it down again. He was unconscious of making

ead with an air of importance."Take your word for it," answered Hood without emotion, save for a slight annoyance at the other's arrogation of superior information. "'Tain't the first time there's been an earthquake since creation." And he strolled out, swinging to the doors behind him. The night shift settled himself before the instruments with a look of dreary resignation. "Say," he muttered aloud, "you couldn't jar that feller with a thirteen-inch bomb! He

As a child I was melancholy and timid, but that wasbecause the gentle consideration paid to my misfortune sunk deepinto my spirit and made me sad, even in those early days. I wasbut a very young creature when my poor mother died, and yet Iremember that often when I hung around her neck, and oftener stillwhen I played about the room before her, she would catch me to herbosom, and bursting into tears, would soothe me with every term offondness and affection. God knows I was a happy child at

For its being a little gloomy, he had hired it principally for the gardens, and he and my mistress would pass the summer weather in their shade.'So all goes well, Baptista?' said he. 'Indubitably, signore; very well.' We had a travelling chariot for our journey, newly built for us, and in all respects complete. All we had was complete; we wanted for nothing. The marriage took place. They were happy. I was happy, seeing all so bright, being so well situated, going to my own city, teaching my