Genre History. Page - 21

contribution made by the freemen who live across the ocean of peace from you to "make the world safe for democracy."I also have the hope that the stories of personal experience will make real to you some of the men whose bodies have been for three years part of that human rampart that has kept your homes from desolation, and your daughters from violation, and that you will speed in sending them succor as though the barrier had broken and the bestial Hun were even now, with lust

irts of the town. My servant is an old country-woman, ill-natured from stupidity, and, moreover, there is always a nastysmell about her. I am told that the Petersburg climate is bad for me, andthat with my small means it is very expensive to live in Petersburg. Iknow all that better than all these sage and experienced counsellors andmonitors. ... But I am remaining in Petersburg; I am not going awayfrom Petersburg! I am not going away because ... ech! Why, it isabsolutely no matter whether I am

that our city Jerusalem hadarrived at a higher degree of felicity than any other city underthe Roman government, and yet at last fell into the sorest ofcalamities again. Accordingly, it appears to me that themisfortunes of all men, from the beginning of the world, if theybe compared to these of the Jews (3) are not so considerable asthey were; while the authors of them were not foreigners neither.This makes it impossible for me to contain my lamentations. Butif any one be inflexible in his

youth shrunk into tasteless sycophancy, or into silent hatred of the pale world about them and mocking distrust of everything white; or wasted itself in a bitter cry, Why did God make me an outcast and a stranger in mine own house? The shades of the prison-house closed round about us all: walls strait and stubborn to the whitest, but relentlessly narrow, tall, and unscalable to sons of night who must plod darkly on in resignation, or beat unavailing palms against the stone, or steadily, half

No matter how exciting a tale we might be rehearsing, the mere shifting of a cloud shadow in the landscape near by was sufficient to change our impulses; and soon we were all chasing the great shadows that played among the hills. We shouted and whooped in the chase; laughing and calling to one another, we were like little sportive nymphs on that Dakota sea of rolling green.On one occasion I forgot the cloud shadow in a strange notion to catch up with my own shadow. Standing straight and still,

says it would hurt Aunt Martha's feelings. Anne dearie,believe me, the state of that manse is something terrible.Everything is thick with dust and nothing is ever in its place.And we had painted and papered it all so nice before they came.""There are four children, you say?" asked Anne, beginning tomother them already in her heart. "Yes. They run up just like the steps of a stair. Gerald's theoldest. He's twelve and they call him Jerry. He's a clever boy.Faith is eleven. She

dently schoolrooms, for desks, maps, blackboards, and books were scattered about. An open fire burned on the hearth, and several indolent lads lay on their backs before it, discussing a new cricket-ground, with such animation that their boots waved in the air. A tall youth was practising on the flute in one corner, quite undisturbed by the racket all about him. Two or three others were jumping over the desks, pausing, now and then, to get their breath and laugh at the droll sketches of a little

s controlled by her it was coldly received and blindly rejected by the governing powers, and there was left only the slower, subtler, but none the less sure, process of working its way among the people to burst in time in rebellion and the destruction of the conservative forces that would repress it.In the opening years of the nineteenth century the friar orders in the Philippines had reached the apogee of their power and usefulness. Their influence was everywhere felt and acknowledged, while

Another scholar would greet "the stranger," lead him around the room, and introduce him.One day it was Abe's turn to do the introducing. He opened the door to find his best friend, Nat Grigsby, waiting outside. Nat bowed low, from the waist. Abe bowed. His buckskin trousers, already too short, slipped up still farther, showing several inches of his bare leg. He looked so solemn that some of the girls giggled. The schoolmaster frowned and pounded on his desk. The giggling stopped.

gates."What cart?" asked Bibot, roughly. "Driven by an old hag. . . . A covered cart . . ." "There were a dozen . . ." "An old hag who said her son had the plague?" "Yes . . ." "You have not let them go?" "MORBLEU!" said Bibot, whose purple cheeks had suddenly become white with fear. "The cart contained the CI-DEVANT Comtesse de Tourney and her two children, all of them traitors and condemned to death." "And