HE STOOD at the open door, his long, gaunt, sun burnt face toward her. “Good-night,” he said slowly, fumbling at the handle, twisting it in his fingers. He turned and looked over the great expanse of swaying wheat, then back again at her.By JOHN H. REGAN29 min
SO ROBERT BROCKTON decided to die. With hands careful and methodic he put away the test tubes, retorts and chemicals cluttered on the laboratory table, and walked from the little room out upon the upper veranda of his home reared high on the brow of Point Grey hill.By FRANCIS DICKIE29 min
BY THE time these few kind words are before you the cannon will have boomed, the band will have played, the Windsor uniforms will have had their annual airing, the statesmen of a nation will have assembled and Parliament will be away to a “flying start.”By J. K. MUNRO17 min
APRIL twenty-ninth.Not much doing to-day. Spent part of morning in basement, hearing coolie play music on Chinese fiddle. Very good noise. Couldn’t do better myself. April twenty-ninth—Auntie upset to-day because she heard Bertie was going with girl in Frenchtown.By ELSIE McCORMICK13 min
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