| 241 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | `God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.' | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | LITTLE NELL, sometimes called the Blessed Damosel, was a war
correspondent for the New York Eclipse, and at sea on the
despatch boats he wore pyjamas, and on shore he wore whatever fate
allowed him, which clothing was in the main unsuitable to the climate.
He had been cruising in the Caribbean on a small tug, awash always,
habitable never, wildly looking for Cervera's fleet; although what he was
going to do with four armoured cruisers and two destroyers in the event
of his really finding them had not been explained by the managing editor.
The cable instructions read: 'Take tug; go find Cervera's fleet.' If his
unfortunate nine-knot craft should happen to find these great twenty-knot
ships, with their two spiteful and faster attendants, Little Nell had
wondered how he was going to lose them again. He had marvelled, both
publicly and in secret, on the uncompromising asininity of managing
editors at odd moments, but he had wasted little time. The Jefferson
G. Johnson was already coaled, so he passed the word to his skipper,
bought some tinned meats, cigars, and beer, and soon the Johnson
sailed on her mission, tooting her whistle in graceful farewell to some
friends of hers in the bay. | | Similar Items: | Find |
242 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Scotch Express | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | THE entrance to Euston Station is of itself sufficiently imposing.
It is a high portico of brown stone, old and grim, in form a casual
imitation, no doubt, of the front of the temple of Nike Apteros, with a
recollection of the Egyptians proclaimed at the flanks. The frieze,
where of old would prance an exuberant processional of gods, is, in
this case, bare of decoration, but upon the epistyle is written in
simple, stern letters the word, "EUSTON." The legend reared high by
the gloomy Pelagic columns stares down a wide
avenue. In short, this entrance to a railway station does not in any
resemble the entrance to a railway station. It is more the front of
some venerable bank. But it has another dignity, which is not born of
form. To a great degree, it is to the English and to those who are in
England the gate to Scotland. | | Similar Items: | Find |
245 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Sergeant's Private Madhouse | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | THE moonlight was almost steady blue flame, and all this radiance
was lavished out upon a still, lifeless wilderness of stunted trees
and cactus plants. The shadows lay upon the ground, pools of black
and sharply outlined, resembling substances, fabrics, and not
shadows at all. From afar came the sound of the sea coughing among
the hollows in the coral rocks. | | Similar Items: | Find |
246 | Author: | Crane, Stephen, 1871-1900 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Shrapnel of their Friends | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | FROM far over the knolls came the tiny sound of a cavalry bugle
singing out the recall, and later, detached parties of His Majesty's
Second Hussars came trotting back to where the Spitzenbergen
infantry sat complacently on the captured Rostina position. The
horsemen were well pleased, and they told how they had ridden
thrice through the helter-skelter of the fleeing enemy. They had
ultimately been checked by the great truth that when an enemy runs
away in daylight he sooner or later finds a place where he fetches up
with a jolt and turns to face the pursuit—notably if it is a cavalry
pursuit. The Hussars had discreetly withdrawn, displaying no
foolish pride of corps. | | Similar Items: | Find |
250 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Blind Tom | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | SOMETIME in the year 1850, a tobacco-planter in Southern
Georgia (Perry H. Oliver by name) bought a likely negro woman
with some other field-hands. She was stout, tough-muscled,
willing, promised to be a remunerative servant; her baby, however,
a boy a few months old, was only thrown in as a makeweight to the
bargain, or rather because Mr. Oliver would not consent to separate
mother and child. Charity only could have induced him to take the
picaninny, in fact, for he was but a lump of black flesh, born blind,
and with the vacant grin of idiocy, they thought, already stamped on
his face. The two slaves were purchased, I believe, from a trader: it
has been impossible, therefore, for me to ascertain where Tom was
born, or when. Georgia field-hands are not accurate as Jews in
preserving their genealogy; they do not anticipate a Messiah.
A white man, you know, has that vague hope unconsciously latent
in him, that he is, or shall give birth to, the great man of his race, a
helper, a provider for the world's hunger: so he grows jealous with
his blood; the dead grandfather may have presaged the possible son;
besides, it is a debt he owes to this coming Saul to tell him whence
he came. There are some classes, free and slave, out of whom
society has crushed this hope: they have no clan, no family-names
among them, therefore. This idiot-boy, chosen by God to be
anointed with the holy chrism, is only "Tom,"—"Blind Tom," they
call him in all the Southern States, with a kind cadence always,
being proud and fond of him; and yet—nothing but Tom? That is
pitiful. Just a mushroom-growth,—unkinned, unexpected, not hoped
for, for generations, owning no name to purify and honor and give
away when he is dead. His mother, at work to-day in the Oliver
plantations, can never comprehend why her boy is famous; this gift
of God to him means nothing to her. Nothing to him, either, which
is saddest of all; he is unconscious, wears his crown as an idiot
might. Whose fault is that? Deeper than slavery the evil lies. | | Similar Items: | Find |
251 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | An Old-Time Love Story | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | ON the shelves of the libraries of our historical societies are
many privately printed volumes, the histories of American families
whose ancestors settled here in early days. They usually are dull
reading enough, but we sometimes find in them fragments of real
life more strange and tragic than any fiction. | | Similar Items: | Find |
254 | Author: | Dunbar, Paul Laurence | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Mr. Cornelius Johnson, Office-Seeker | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | IT was a beautiful day in balmy May and the sun shone pleasantly on
Mr. Cornelius Johnson's very spruce Prince Albert suit of gray as he
alighted from the train in Washington. He cast his eyes about him,
and then gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction as he took his bag
from the porter and started for the gate. As he went along, he looked
with splendid complacency upon the less fortunate mortals who were
streaming out of the day coaches. It was a Pullman sleeper on which
he had come in. Out on the pavement he hailed a cab, and giving the
driver the address of a hotel, stepped in and was rolled away. Be it
said that he had cautiously inquired about the hotel first and found
that he could be accommodated there. | | Similar Items: | Find |
255 | Author: | Eastman, Charles Alexander, 1858-1939 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Madness of Bald Eagle | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | IT was many years ago, when I was only a child, began White
Ghost, the patriarchal old chief of the Yanktonnais Sioux, that our
band was engaged in a desperate battle with the Rees and Mandans.
The cause of the fight was a peculiar one. I will tell you about it.
And he laid aside his long-stemmed pipe and settled himself to the
recital. | | Similar Items: | Find |
256 | Author: | Echols, E. Sherman | Requires cookie* | | Title: | A New England Literary Colony | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | GROUPED together in and about the old New England city of Hartford
are some of the best known literary people in this country. Their
homes form what might almost be called a literary colony, and so close
are their lives that one thinks instinctively of the old saying,
"Birds of a feather flock together." Here are the adjoining homes of
Harriet Beecher Stowe, Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain), Charles Dudley
Warner, William E. Gillette, the noted writer and actor of the drama,
Richard Burton, poet and literary critic, and Isabella Beecher Hooker,
philanthropist and writer on sociology. | | Similar Items: | Find |
257 | Author: | Far, Sui Sin | Requires cookie* | | Title: | An Autumn Fan | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | FOR two weeks Ming Hoan was a guest in the house of Yen Chow, the
father of Ah Leen, and because love grows very easily between a youth
and a maid it came to pass that Ah Leen unconsciously yielded to Ming
Hoan her heart and Ming Hoan as unconsciously yielded his to her.
After the yielding they became conscious. | | Similar Items: | Find |
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