ON the balcony of the Trinacria Hotel in Messina a young American tourist sat finishing what had been a very welcome luncheon. Beneath him lay the noisy, populous city, and farther out around its coast spread the divine sea. The flies took possession of his piled plate of figs and dates.By Marie Van Vorst29 min
I WAS drowsing in one of those canvas chairs with canopied top which dot the beach at Atlantic City, and letting the sun bake the rheumatism out of my legs, when I heard the approach of murmuring voices, followed by two soft thuds on the sand near-by.By Jessie A. McGriff21 min
MRS. GASSAWAY was mixing batter for a cake in a yellow earthenware bowl on the kitchen table. She was a tall, angular woman, slightly bent in at the waist, like a wasp. Her faded yellow hair was tied at the nape of her neck with a butterfly bow of black silk, much ironed.By Herbert Footner16 min
A STORY with a moral appended is like the bill of a mosquito. It bores you, and then injects a stinging drop to irritate your conscience. Therefore let us have the moral first and be done with it. All is not gold that glitters, but it is a wise child that keeps the stopper in his bottle of testing acid.By O. Henry13 min
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