Few people ever knew so many things as Franklin. Men said, “How did he ever learn so many things?” For he had been a poor boy who had to work for a living. He could not go to school at all after he was ten years old. His father made soap and candles. Little Ben […]

Frank-lin thought that ants know how to tell things to one another. He thought that they talk by some kind of signs. When an ant has found a dead fly too big for him to drag away, he will run off and get some other ant to help him. Frank-lin thought that ants have some […]

The King of England gave all the land in Penn-syl-va-ni-a to William Penn. The King made Penn a kind of king over Penn-syl-va-ni-a. Penn could make the laws of this new country. But he let the people make their own laws. Penn wanted to be friendly with the Indians. He paid them for all the […]

The first white people that came to this country hardly knew how to get their living here. They did not know what would grow best in this country. Many of the white people learned to hunt. All the land was covered with trees. In the woods were many animals whose flesh was good to eat. […]

Before the white people came, there were no houses in this country but the little huts of the In-di-ans. The In-di-an houses were made of bark, or mats, or skins, spread over poles. Some people came to one part of the country. Others started set-tle-ments in other places. When more people came, some of these […]

The first white men to go into the middle of our country were French-men. The French had settled in Can-a-da. They sent mis-sion-a-ries to preach to the Indians in the West. They also sent traders to buy furs from the Indians. The French-men heard the Indians talk about a great river in the West. But […]

When Mar-quette and his men left the Il-li-nois, they went on down the river. The friendly Il-li-nois had told them that the Indians they would see were bad, and that they would kill any one who came into their country. The Frenchmen had heard before this that there were demons and monsters in the river. […]

Two weather-beaten stone buildings at Ephrata, in Pennsylvania, remain as monuments on this side of the water of the great pietistic movement in Germany in the early part of the eighteenth century. One of these was called Bethany, the other Sharon. A hundred and thirty or forty years ago there were other buildings with these, […]

A STORY IN THREE SCENES. PROLOGUE. The stories we write are most of them love stories; but in the lives of men there are also many stories that are not love stories: some, truly, that are hate stories. The main incident of the one I am about to tell I found floating down from the […]

THE STORY OF A FOURTH OF JULY. Whenever one writes with photographic exactness of frontier life he is accused of inventing improbable things. “Old Davy Lindsley” lived in a queer cabin on the Pomme de Terre River. If you should ever ride over the new Northern Pacific when it shall be completed, or over that […]

I. It was one of those obscure days found only on the banks of Newfoundland. There was no sun, and yet no visible cloud; there was nothing, indeed, to test the vision by; there was no apparent fog, but sight was soon lost in a hazy indefiniteness. Near objects stood out with a distinctness almost […]

When my friend Capt. Terrible, U.S.N., dines at my plain table, I am a little abashed. I know that he has been accustomed always to a variety of wines and sauces, to a cigarette after each course, and to cookery that would kill an undeveloped American. So, when the captain turns the castor round three […]

My friend Macartney-Smith has working theories for everything. He illustrated one of these the other day by relating something that happened in the Giralda apartment house, where he lives in a suite overlooking Central Park. I do not remember whether he was expounding his notion that the apartment house has solved the question of co-operative […]

[*] I remember a story that Judge Balcom told a few years ago on the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day. I do not feel sure that it will interest everybody as it did me. Indeed, I am afraid that it will not, and yet I can not help thinking that it is just the sort of […]

The trained novel readers, those who have made a business of it (if any such should honor this poor little story with their attention), will glance down the opening paragraphs for a description of the heroine’s tresses. The opening sentences of Miss Braddon are enough to show how important a thing a head of hair […]

For many years following the war I felt that I owed a grudge to the medical faculty. Having a romantic temperament and a taste for heroics, I had wished to fight and eat hard tack for my country. But whenever I presented the feeble frame in which I then dwelt, the medical man stood in […]

“Bring me that slate, Henriettar!” Miss Tucker added a superfluous r to some words, but then she made amends by dropping the final r where it was preceded by a broad vowel. If she said idear, she compounded for it by saying waw. She said lor for law, and dror for draw, but then she […]

“The Dickens!” That was just what Charley Vanderhuyn said that Christmas Eve, and as a faithful historian I give the exact words. It sounded like swearing, though why we should regard it profane to make free with the devil’s name, or even his nickname, I never could see. Can you? Besides, there was some ambiguity […]