"Begone, interlopers," he said. "You disturb the goats."


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The men of First Regiment massed on the parade-ground. While they stood At Ease, their plastic-sleeved rifles and packs growing heavier by the minute, their safety-suits staler, four of the five Service Companies marched out from the Syphon to join them. The women were suited in yellow plastic, giving rise to the gags about fool's gold. The four golden companies took up position at the center of the Regiment.

The last sentence Wolf understood perfectly. On the instant he was dancing with excitement at the prospect of a walk. Being a collie, he was of no earthly help in a hunting-trip; but, on such tramps, as everywhere else, he was the Boy’s inseparable companion.

"O God in Heaven," I groaned, sinking on the ground, "that there are such damned scoundrels in this world!" And for the first time since a child I could not restrain myself, and burst into tears.

This was Graves, valet-butler to the late Count Foscatini. The story he had to tell was a sensational one.

It follows that motherhood, which we still in a muddle-headed way seem to regard as partly self-indulgence and partly a service paid to a man by a woman, is regarded by the Socialists as a benefit to society, a public duty done. It may be in many cases a duty full of pride and happiness—that is beside the mark. The State will pay for children born legitimately in the marriage it will sanction. A woman with healthy and successful offspring will draw a wage for each one of them from the State, so long as they go on well. It will be her wage. Under the State she will control


Bud wept because the tears were running down the old man’s cheeks. He wanted to say something, but he could not speak. That queer feeling that came over him at times and made him silent had come again.

I retain a very clear impression of his personality. He was short, rather dapper, and very deliberate. He always thought briefly before he answered a question, but when he did answer it he did so without hesitation, going straight into the middle of the matter. He struck me, as he sat on a rather low chair opposite the window, as essentially earnest, essentially honest-minded, essentially clear-headed. His manner was a little important. He may be said to have “pronounced” things rather than to have spoken them. He was formally courteous. I do not think one could justly say that he has the “artistic” temperament, and I imagine he possesses no particularly acute perception of beauty. There is no emotional enthusiasm about him; he has no unreliable “moods”; he does not think or feel one thing to-day and another to-morrow. By no means typically a man of this generation, and yet not a man who has outlived his own time. It appeared to me that he had little intuition; his very considerable knowledge of human nature is probably based on close observation and most careful deduction.

The folks from whom the fa-ther came were first known in A-mer-i-ca in 1618. They came from Eng-land at that time, and made a home at Hing-ham, Mass. They bore a good name, went straight to work, had health, strength, thrift, and soon tracts of land for their own.

I cordially invited him to come, and mentioned how many of the veterans come down every now and then to go over the battlefields of the South.

“Let’s wait for him outside the platform entrance and cheer him when he comes out,” suggested my brother.

And that was the ind of Miss Molly Malone




It is plucking the blossom from a hazel when it is white.”


“Are you certain that there is nothing which might link the four together?”


"That sounds like the way a man would play a game," Sandra observed. "Look ahead a little way and try to make a plan. You know, like getting out trumps in bridge or setting up a finesse."

What If Love



Zopyrus and Eumetis without a word, but with a mutual impulse, sought the section of seats at the head of which stood the statue of Aphrodite. For some moments they sat in silence with eyes fixed upon the stage as if before them they saw again enacted the great play of Phrynichus. But her hand did not touch his arm as upon that former occasion. There existed an inexplicable estrangement, and Zopyrus as he noticed her pensive mood revealed in her pale features, was smitten with remorse that he had neglected and undoubtedly wounded her.

. . .