INTOXICATING scents of Spring were in the air. Pristine coatings of green mantled the outdoor world. The urge of youth and high vitality were upon the man as he made his way with springy step down through the Park avenues on this May morning, and the inevitable happened.By GUY MORTON35 min
JOHN BRUCE’S hands dropped to his sides. The door, already half open, was pushed wide, and Hawkins, the old chauffeur, stood on the threshold. And as John Bruce looked in that direction, he was suddenly and strangely conscious that somehow for the moment the old man dominated his attention even to the exclusion of Claire.By FRANK L. PACKARD31 min
“YES sah,sumfin’ am sure goin’ ter happen dis day.” For the twentieth time Lenix Ballister muttered this prophecy as he transferred the bacon from the frying-pan to his plate, and with nervous haste tossed a pinch of salt, spilled from the upset cellar, over his left shoulder.By ARCHIE McKISHNIE28 min
PERHAPS it was during his adolescence Colwyn Neill discovered that the sum and substance of life lay in the cultivation of Good Taste; or, as he less specifically put it, in the appreciation and development of the Esthetic Nature. This would not have been so disturbing as it sounds had he also made the attendant discovery that the democracy of work is an excellent portal of the aristocracy of art.By CHARLES G. BOOTH27 min
WHAT is the tale the ticker tells? Those who watch it from time to time in the brokers’ offices know that occasionally it seems to stutter when there is nothing doing, and it heats a sort of tattoo until the next sale comes over the wire. Applying the simile, it may he said that the ticker is now engaged in a stutter which has lasted several weeks and the meaning of which is not yet clear to the listeners.
WHEN a man can make a better mouse-trap or tell a better story than his neighbor—to twist an oft-quoted adage—the world will make a beaten pathway to his door, even if he live in the heart of the wilderness. This holds good in these days of whirlwind campaigns especially where a man is found who can make a better platform speech than his fellows.By CHARLES CHRISTOPHER JENKINS14 min
HE STOOD behind the firing line, well back in the comparative safety of the big gun emplacements. Back at least of the mud and blood and squalor of the trenches. He had no dream of glory to spur him on, no impelling enthusiasm to guide him. He was softly bred, used to ease and comfort, and all the things that were lacking here.By J. L. RUTLEDGE9 min
TWELVE-year-old Nellie walked beside me and confided, “Next week I will have a new mother and four new brothers. I have had before three mothers and when they die little baby die with them.” Next to Nellie’s was another motherless home—six boys between two and eleven years of age, and a wistful little girl of eight who was struggling with the family washing in a pail when I entered.By ROSE A. HAMBLY9 min
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