LAST ISSUE, in heralding the contents of this issue, we expressed the belief that nobody would contradict us were we to say that no author can get more color and atmosphere into a romantic period story than Rafael Sabatini. This at once attracted the attention of Horace, the composing room messenger, who considers that he has done his good deed for the day if he proves that we are all wrong.
JUDITH liked Mr. Beeker. He was very kind, very gentle; and though he was not good-looking, his plainness was the type which women find attractive. “Such a nice man, that Mr. Beeker,” Judith’s Aunt Phoebe decided after a not very profound examination of the big man who always seemed to be on hand to move deck chairs and carry rugs.By VELIA ERCOLE
THE Labor Member of Parliament for Centre Winnipeg has a talent for becoming prominent whenever times are bad, but is merely a Member of Parliament when times are good. Mr. Wordsworth has lately received so much public attention as to make one believe that the country is in terrible shape.By R. T. L.
I AM NOT SURE that plain talk is the most advisable thing under the present circumstances, but I do know that something is required, and as pretty nearly everything else seems to have failed, perhaps a simple, straightforward statement of some things which a good many people in the Maritime Provinces are thinking these days would bring a number of our fellow Canadians who live farther west to their senses.By K. A. BAIRD
IT WAS his queer arresting gesture before the crucifix in the great square that supplied the decisive spur to the wishes of the Cardinal-Prince Louis de Rohan. From the moment of his entrance into Strasbourg in his great gilded rococo coach drawn by four cream-colored ponies.By RAFAEL SABATINI
THE WESTERN STATES have always had their bad men, and some of them have crossed the Canadian boundary to try their luck. Of all these desperate adventurers who have given trouble to the Mounted Police, Bill Miner had perhaps the longest record.By VERNON LACHANCE
FRANCIS GEDGE was forty. He was a member of the Stock Exchange. The anniversary had been dented into his consciousness by a dozen fine embroidered handkerchiefs from his mother and a telegram from his sister. He was grateful to neither of them.By CHRISTINE JOPE-SLADE
ECONOMISTS agree . . . That statement is so revolutionary and unorthodox that we must pause for explanation. Of course, all economists don’t agree on anything; but then, to quote Miss Agnes Macphail, M.P., “There are economists and economists."By A. F. W. PLUMPTRE
THE NEWLY RISEN SUN cleared the main range and flooded the wide mountain basin with golden light, which deepened to pastel shades of rose and mauve in the hollows of gaunt hills hemming it in on every side. Lonely in the bottom of the vast bare amphitheatre crouched an Afridi hamlet whose white-robed villagers stood herded in the council place by Dillon's Rajputs, bearded and martial on their chargers under the venomous black lances.By ALLAN SWINTON
ERIC WARE led the way swiftly. Sometimes, in his anxiety, he was many yards ahead of Marion, but they were together when they found Keegan past the edge of the cliff. The deckhand lay on his back. His face still dripped moisture and was drawn by fatigue.By ROBERT E. PINKERTON
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