PREFACE It was good advice that Rudyard Kipling gave his "young British soldier" in regard to the latter's rifle: "She's human as you are—you treat her as sichAnd she'll fight for the young British soldier." Tommy Atkins' rifle was by no means the first inanimate or dumb thing to prove human and to deserve human treatment. Animals of all sorts have been given this quality. Jack London's dog, in The Call of the Wild, has human... more...

ON THE ATLANTIC "Come to me, children," said Mrs. Bradley invitingly; "I will be a mother to you, my darlings. You shall not be a burden to the community, but I will take care of you myself." Having said this, she seized the little boy and his sister and pressed them to her heart, while tears trickled down her full, rosy cheeks. "Now you little sweethearts," she said soothingly, "you must not be afraid of me. Let me wipe your tears, and then... more...

CHAPTER I Molly and Polly It had stopped raining; Molly made quite sure of it by looking into the little puddles upon the walk. At first she thought there were drops still falling upon them, but it was only the wind which ruffled the surface. The green grass was misty with rain and upon the bushes the shining drops hung from every twig. Presently a sudden burst of sunshine broke through the clouds and changed the drops to sparkles of light.... more...

THE VARMINT I When young Stover disembarked at the Trenton station on the fourth day after the opening of the spring term he had acquired in his brief journey so much of the Pennsylvania rolling stock as could be detached and concealed. Inserted between his nether and outer shirts were two gilt "Directions to Travelers" which clung like mustard plasters to his back, while a jagged tin sign, wrenched from the home terminal, embraced his stomach... more...

A QUEER OLD PERSON There was a queer old person that lived in Farmer Green's garden. Nobody knew exactly how long he had made his home there because his neighbors seldom saw him. He might have been in the garden a whole summer before anybody set eyes on him. Those that were acquainted with him called him Grandfather Mole. And the reason why his friends didn't meet him oftener was because he spent most of his time underground. Grandfather Mole's... more...

CHAPTER I A BIG CLOUD ON THE SUBMARINE HORIZON "At what time did you say that the 'Pollard' was due to be back, Mr.Farnum?" "At two o'clock," replied the owner of the boat-building yard at the little seaport town of Dunhaven. "It's within five minutes of that hour, now." "So it is," nodded the owner of the yard, after briefly consulting his watch. For half an hour, or a little longer, a middle aged man, with the world of business and large... more...

The Story of Little Black Mingo. Once upon a time there was a little black girl, and her name was Little Black Mingo. She had no father and mother, so she had to live with a horrid cross old woman called Black Noggy, who used to scold her every day, and sometimes beat her with a stick, even though she had done nothing naughty. One day Black Noggy called her, and said, "Take this chatty down to the river and fill it with water,... more...

CHAPTER I THE FIVE NUT FORAGERS The bright October sun was half-way down the western sky one Saturday afternoon. Two-thirds of the Fall month had already gone, and the air was becoming fairly crisp in the early mornings. All around the forest trees were painted various shades of bright scarlet, burnt umber brown and vivid gold by the practiced fingers of that master artist, the Frost-King. Flocks of robins and blackbirds were gathering rather... more...

FOREWORD The special interest of this volume of Russian Folk Tales is that it is a translation from a collection of peasant Chap-books of all sorts made in Moscow about 1830, long before the Censorship had in great measure stopped the growth of popular literature. It is not necessary to dilate upon the peculiarities of Chap-books and their methods: in the conditions of their existence many of the finest qualities of the primitive stories are... more...

INTRODUCTION In the winter of 1901-02, while rummaging an old closet in the shed-chamber of my father's house, I unearthed a salt-box which had been equipped with leather hinges at the expense of considerable ingenuity, and at a very remote period. In addition to this, a hasp of the same material, firmly fastened by carpet-tacks and a catch of bent wire, bade defiance to burglars, midnight marauders, and safe-breakers. With the aid of a... more...