Mrs. Douglas was looking over her shopping list, and Lily Douglas was looking over her mother's shoulder. The Christmas Charity Fair was so soon to be held that Mrs. Douglas had a world of business to attend to, for of course her table must be full of pretty things suitable for the season. She was going out this morning to finish all her purchases, and Lily had been promised a corner of the carriage if she would be as quiet as she knew how to be,... more...

OLD FATHER TIME. "Professor," said May, turning on the sofa where she was lying, "Jack has brought me a calendar that runs for ever so many years. You know the doctor says I'll not be well for two whole years, or perhaps three. I have been wondering what month among them all I shall be able to run about in; and then I began to think who could have made the first calendar, and what led him to do it." "That's very simple, May. Old Father Time... more...

BABY, BEE, AND BUTTERFLY. BY MARY D. BRINE.   aby, Bee, and Butterfly,Underneath the summer sky.Baby, bees, and birds together,Happy in the pleasant weather;Sunshine over all around,In the sky, and on the ground;Hiding, too, in Baby's eyes,As he looks in mute surpriseAt the sunbeams tumbling overMerrily amid the clover,Where the bees, at work all day,Never find the time for play.Happy little baby boy!Tiny heart all full of joy;Loving... more...

It was a terrific storm. The wind swept down the river, raising a ridge of white water in its path. The rain came down harder, so the boys thought, than they had ever seen it come down before, and the glare of the lightning and the crash of the thunder were frightful. "What luck it is that we got the tent pitched in time!" exclaimed Joe. "We're as dry and comfortable here as if we were in a house." "Pick your blankets up quick, boys," cried... more...

BY MARGARET EYTINGE. Sunshine on the meadow,Sunshine on the sea;Green buds on the rose-bush,Blossoms on the tree.Two wee children singingIn a rapt delight—One as fair as morning,One as dark as night.Hymn-book held between themWith the greatest care,Though they can not read a wordThat is printed there."Jesus, Saviour, meek and mild,Friend of ev'ry little child,Once a child Thyself, we prayThou wilt guard us day by day;For such helpless... more...

Although in the remote and dreary ice regions of the extreme North a variety of game, including bear, whale, walrus, seal, reindeer, foxes, wolves, ptarmigan, ducks, and geese, is found and pursued by the hardy Esquimau, or Innuit, it is upon the capture of the seal that he expends the most time and labor. The seal is everything to him, and without it life could hardly be sustained. In the words of Captain Hall: "To the Innuit the seal is all... more...

It was still early in the day when Walter left the cottage a second time. His heart was cheerful, and his movements light and rapid. Instead, however, of taking the road leading to the inn, he struck off in a zigzag path through the valley toward the Engelhorn, whose jagged and lofty peaks rose far up into the blue sky. After a short time he reached the large and splendid glacier that lies between the Engelhorn and Wellborn, cast a hasty glance... more...

SPECIAL INTRODUCTION Among the absurd notions as to what the Talmud was, given credence in the Middle Ages, one was that it was a man! The mediaeval priest or peasant was perhaps wiser than he knew. Almost, might we say, the Talmud was Man, for it is a record of the doings, the beliefs, the usages, the hopes, the sufferings, the patience, the humor, the mentality, and the morality of the Jewish people for half a millennium. What is the Talmud?... more...

WARWICK AND COVENTRY. OBLIQUE GABLES IN WARWICK. The history of England is written in living characters in the provincial towns of the kingdom; and it is this which gives such interest to places which have been surpassed commercially by great manufacturing centres and overshadowed socially by the attractions of London. The local nobility once held state little less than royal in houses whose beautiful architecture now masks a hotel, a... more...

CHAPTER I.—THE MOOR. Crimson and gold. As far as one could see across the moor it was one broad expanse of purply heather, kindled into a glowing crimson by the blaze of ruddy sunshine, and lighted here and there by bright patches of the thorny golden rod. Dame Nature had evidently painted out of her summer paint-box, and had not spared her best and brightest colours. Crimson-lake, children; you know what a lovely colour it is, and how... more...