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He paused and studied Shillito, who began to look disturbed. "One would sooner be polite and take the easy line," Don Ramon resumed. "So far this is possible, because you are not on the list sent our Government by the British police, but we have power to examine foreigners about whom we are not satisfied. Well, I doub...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
Studying the groups of passengers at the rails, she thought she saw a face she knew. The face got distinct, and when the liner's lofty side towered above the boat, Shillito, looking down, lifted his cap and bowed with ironical politeness. Barbara turned her head and tried for calm while she watched the tug. Lister had...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
At length, the bubbles began to move towards the hulk, the ladder shook, and a dull, red reflection shone through the water. Then the copper helmet broke the surface, rose a few inches, and stopped, and Brown ran to the gangway. Lister was exhausted and his worn-out body could not meet the change of pressure. They dra...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
A steamer's hull below her load-line is pierced in places to admit water for the condensers and ballast tanks. Lister had found some inlets open, but now they were shut. "I'll own old Cartwright's a great man," Brown said thoughtfully. "When he takes on a job he studies things all round. The salvage folks, no doubt, r...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
In the morning, he knew the fever that bothered him now and then had returned. For all that, he must hold out and he began his labor in the burning sun. When the flood tide rippled about the wreck it was obvious the pump was getting the water down. The bows lifted, and starting the winches, they hauled aft the ropes. ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
The ropes cracked and the hulk's list got sharp. On one side, her deck was very near the water. She was broad, but if _Arcturus_ did not lift, it was obvious she must soon capsize. Lister opened the engine throttle until the valve-wheel would not turn. The cylinders shook, a gland blew steam, and the pump clashed and ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"Something like that! I can certainly make things awkward. However, all I want is to go with you when you open the lazaret where the boxes of gold were stored." "Ah!" said Brown. "I expect you see what your wanting to go indicates? Looks as if you knew something about the wreck." "I imagine I do know something," Montg...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
Brown knitted his brows and was quiet for some moments. Then he said, "You are now willing to get us the boys we want and help us where you can?" "That is so," Montgomery agreed. "Very well!" said Brown. "We expect to open the lazaret at daybreak and you can come with us. You had better send off your boat and stop on ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"Something in the pocket," he added and taking out a small wet book put it in the sun. "We'll look at this again, and now for the first box! I may want you to state you saw me break the seals." Sitting in the shade of the poop, they opened the box, which was filled with fine dull-yellow grains. Then Lister sent a man ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"Very good," said Brown. "Now get off and send somebody to help heave the boxes on board." Montgomery turned his head and leaned against the poop. Lister saw he trembled as if the reaction from the strain was keen. After a few moments he braced himself. "It's done with! I think all the boxes held gold, but they're gon...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"I reckon to make an anchorage before dark," he said. "We'll give the boys the rest they need and send _Terrier_ to _Sar_ Leone for coal. Learmont will land you." "Then you're not going to take _Arcturus_ into port?" Montgomery remarked with some surprise. "I am not. Cartwright expects me to save him as much as possib...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"It was a moving picture," he said. "The rusty, weed-coated steamer rolling on the blue combers, and the little, battered tug, holding her head-to-sea. The breeze was strong and for some days they had not made three knots an hour. Well, I know something about fever, but they were _all sick;_ the engineer delirious and...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"Don Luis Sarmiento is the best doctor in the town and had something to do with a fever hospital in Cuba," she said. "If you tell him I sent you, he will help. Take all the medicine he can give you and then go to Leopard Trading Company and buy whatever you think sick men would need. Bring me the bills." "If I get all...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
The merchant engaged the crew of a Spanish fishing schooner that was being laid up, and Barbara returning to the hotel found Wheeler in the garden. "I've got all the medicine and truck I reckon would be useful," he said. "If the steamboat man didn't exaggerate, you want a doctor next." Barbara gave him a level glance ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
Mrs. Cartwright let her go presently and Barbara went to her room. She had borne a heavy strain, but the reaction had begun, and throwing herself on a couch she covered her face with her hands and cried. CHAPTER XI LISTER'S REWARD Signal flags fluttered in the breeze at the top of the Isleta and a smoke cloud stained ...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"Then, I ought to have time to see her before they tow _Arcturus_ in. Some sea is running and they can't steam fast." He started for the Catalina and when he stopped by Mrs. Cartwright's chair his face was hot and he trembled. Hurry and muscular effort upset him, but time was valuable. "I have not yet asked you for mo...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
She entered the patio with two young tourists, whom she sent off, and beckoned Cartwright to a bench behind a palm. The sun that pierced the glass roof was strong and he reflected with dry amusement that Ellen looked better by electric light in the evening. Although she smiled, her glance was keen and not friendly. "I...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"I have an engagement, but I rather want the shares. My getting them would help me at the meeting," he said. "Shall we say twelve-and-sixpence? This is the limit." "Very well," said Mrs. Seaton and smiled with a sense of triumph. "It looks very greedy, but when can I have a check? You see, I'm nearly bankrupt." "Now,"...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
The tugs looked very small; the half-loaded hull they towed to an anchorage floated high above her proper water-line. Rolling on the languid swell at the harbor mouth, she looked huge. Her rusty side was like a warehouse wall. When she lifted her plates from the water one saw the wet weed shine; higher up it clung, pa...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"It's not far. Carrying will be smoother." "Very well, I'll see all's ready," said Cartwright and got into the carriage. Then Barbara went to the stretcher, which was covered by green canvas. She thought she knew who lay behind the screens, and her look was strained. "Is Mr. Lister very ill?" she asked. Wheeler gave h...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
"It's just. Coming home, when my men were sick and Brown was in his bunk, you undertook the duties of doctor and navigator, and Wheeler admits your cures were good. Since you have a counter-claim, suppose we say we're quits?" Montgomery felt some relief. It looked as if Cartwright did not mean to use his advantage; th...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
Lister was delirious, and for two or three days the doctors doubted his recovery. Then, one morning, they said his temperature had fallen and there was hope. Next morning they admitted that he was slowly making progress. Barbara did not leave the hotel, lest she miss the latest news from the sick-room. She was not all...
Lister's Great Adventure
Bindloss, Harold
1866
1945
['en']
11
{'Salvage -- Fiction', 'Shipwrecks -- Fiction', 'Africa -- Fiction', 'Love stories'}
PG10076
Distributed Proofreaders THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. VOL. X.--OCTOBER, 1862.--NO. LX. A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. AUTUMNAL TINTS. Europeans coming to America are surprised by the brilliancy of our autumnal foliage. There is no account of such a phenomenon in English poetry, because the trees acquire but few...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
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Flowers are but colored leaves, fruits but ripe ones. The edible part of most fruits is, as the physiologist says, "the parenchyma or fleshy tissue of the leaf" of which they are formed. Our appetites have commonly confined our views of ripeness and its phenomena, color, mellowness, and perfectness, to the fruits whic...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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THE PURPLE GRASSES. By the twentieth of August, everywhere in woods and swamps, we are reminded of the fall, both by the richly spotted Sarsaparilla-leaves and Brakes, and the withering and blackened Skunk-Cabbage and Hellebore, and, by the river-side, the already blackening Pontederia. The Purple Grass (_Eragrostis p...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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In most plants the corolla or calyx is the part which attains the highest color, and is the most attractive; in many it is the seed-vessel or fruit; in others, as the Red Maple, the leaves; and in others still it is the very culm itself which is the principal flower or blooming part. The last is especially the case wi...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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At the same time with this, or near the end of August, a to me very interesting genus of grasses, Andropogons, or Beard-Grasses, is in its prime. _Andropogon furcatus_, Forked Beard-Grass, or call it Purple-Fingered Grass; _Andropogon scoparius_, Purple Wood-Grass; and _Andropogon_ (now called _Sorghum_) _nutans_, Ind...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A man shall perhaps rush by and trample down plants as high as his head, and cannot be said to know that they exist, though he may have cut many tons of them, littered his stables with them, and fed them to his cattle for years. Yet, if he ever favorably attends to them, he may be overcome by their beauty. Each humble...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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THE RED MAPLE. By the twenty-fifth of September, the Red Maples generally are beginning to be ripe. Some large ones have been conspicuously changing for a week, and some single trees are now very brilliant. I notice a small one, half a mile off across a meadow, against the green wood-side there, a far brighter red tha...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A small Red Maple has grown, perchance, far away at the head of some retired valley, a mile from any road, unobserved. It has faithfully discharged the duties of a Maple there, all winter and summer, neglected none of its economies, but added to its stature in the virtue which belongs to a Maple, by a steady growth fo...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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As I go across a meadow directly toward a low rising ground this bright afternoon, I see, some fifty rods off toward the sun, the top of a Maple swamp just appearing over the sheeny russet edge of the hill, a stripe apparently twenty rods long by ten feet deep, of the most intensely brilliant scarlet, orange, and yell...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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FALLEN LEAVES. By the sixth of October the leaves generally begin to fall, in successive showers, after frost or rain; but the principal leaf-harvest, the acme of the _Fall_, is commonly about the sixteenth. Some morning at that date there is perhaps a harder frost than we have seen, and ice formed under the pump, and...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Birds'-nests, in the Huckleberry and other shrubs, and in trees, are already being filled with the withered leaves. So many have fallen in the woods, that a squirrel cannot run after a falling nut without being heard. Boys are raking them in the streets, if only for the pleasure of dealing with such clean crisp substa...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Perchance, in the afternoon of such a day, when the water is perfectly calm and full of reflections, I paddle gently down the main stream, and, turning up the Assabet, reach a quiet cove, where I unexpectedly find myself surrounded by myriads of leaves, like fellow-voyagers, which seem to have the same purpose, or wan...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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For beautiful variety no crop can be compared with this. Here is not merely the plain yellow of the grains, but nearly all the colors that we know, the brightest blue not excepted: the early blushing Maple, the Poison-Sumach blazing its sins as scarlet, the mulberry Ash, the rich chrome-yellow of the Poplars, the bril...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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When the leaves fall, the whole earth is a cemetery pleasant to walk in. I love to wander and muse over them in their graves. Here are no lying nor vain epitaphs. What though you own no lot at Mount Auburn? Your lot is surely cast somewhere in this vast cemetery, which has been consecrated from of old. You need attend...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Little did the fathers of the town anticipate this brilliant success, when they caused to be imported from farther in the country some straight poles with their tops cut off, which they called Sugar-Maples; and, as I remember, after they were set out, a neighboring merchant's clerk, by way of jest, planted beans about...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Shall the names of so many of our colors continue to be derived from those of obscure foreign localities, as Naples yellow, Prussian blue, raw Sienna, burnt Umber, Gamboge?--(surely the Tyrian purple must have faded by this time)--or from comparatively trivial articles of commerce,--chocolate, lemon, coffee, cinnamon,...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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No wonder that we must have our annual Cattle-Show, and Fall Training, and perhaps Cornwallis, our September Courts, and the like. Nature herself holds her annual fair in October, not only in the streets, but in every hollow and on every hill-side. When lately we looked into that Red-Maple swamp all a-blaze,--where th...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A village needs these innocent stimulants of bright and cheering prospects to keep off melancholy and superstition. Show me two villages, one embowered in trees and blazing with all the glories of October, the other a merely trivial and treeless waste, or with only a single tree or two for suicides, and I shall be sur...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Stand under this tree and see how finely its leaves are cut against the sky,--as it were, only a few sharp points extending from a midrib. They look like double, treble, or quadruple crosses. They are far more ethereal than the less deeply scolloped Oak-leaves. They have so little leafy _terra firma_ that they appear ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Regarded as water, it is like a pond with half a dozen broad rounded promontories extending nearly to its middle, half from each side, while its watery bays extend far inland, like sharp friths, at each of whose heads several fine streams empty in,--almost a leafy archipelago. But it oftener suggests land, and, as Dio...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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This very perfect and vigorous one, about forty feet high, standing in an open pasture, which was quite glossy green on the twelfth, is now, the twenty-sixth, completely changed to bright dark scarlet,--every leaf, between you and the sun, as if it had been dipped into a scarlet dye. The whole tree is much like a hear...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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If you wish to count the Scarlet Oaks, do it now. In a clear day stand thus on a hill-top in the woods, when the sun is an hour high, and every one within range of your vision, excepting in the west, will be revealed. You might live to the age of Methuselah and never find a tithe of them, otherwise. Yet sometimes even...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Let your walks now be a little more adventurous; ascend the hills. If, about the last of October, you ascend any hill in the outskirts of our town, and probably of yours, and look over the forest, you may see--well, what I have endeavored to describe. All this you surely _will_ see, and much more, if you are prepared ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Take a New-England selectman, and set him on the highest of our hills, and tell him to look,--sharpening his sight to the utmost, and putting on the glasses that suit him best, (ay, using a spy-glass, if he likes,)--and make a full report. What, probably, will he _spy_?--what will he _select_ to look at? Of course, he...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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These bright leaves which I have mentioned are not the exception, but the rule; for I believe that all leaves, even grasses and mosses, acquire brighter colors just before their fall. When you come to observe faithfully the changes of each humblest plant, you find that each has, sooner or later, its peculiar autumnal ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"All ready, Dyke?" "All right, Capt'n." Palmer lingered, listening to the talk of the men. Dyke had been an Ohio-River pilot; after the troubles began, had taken a pork-contract under Government; but was lieutenant now, as I said. It paid better than pork, he told Palmer,--a commission, especially in damp weather. Pal...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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But Theodora and these women had seen their door-posts slopped with blood,--that made a difference. This woman in front had found her boy's half-charred body left tied to a tree by Rebel scouts: this girl was the grandchild of Naylor, a man of seventy,--the Federal soldiers were fired at from his house one day,--the n...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Dyke touched Palmer's arm. "Lor', Capt'n," he whispered, "ef thar a'n't old Scofield! 'n the back o' th' house, watchin' you. Son killed at Manassas,--George,--d' ye know?" "I know." "Danged ef I don't respect Secesh like them," broke out Dyke. "Ye'll not sin his soul with a test-oath. Thar's grit thar. Well, God help...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Crossing the field hurriedly, he saw two men talking eagerly behind a thorn-bush. One of them, turning, came towards him, his hat slouched over his face. It was Scofield. As he came into the clear starlight, Palmer recognized the thick-set, sluggish figure and haggard face, and waited for him,--with a quick remembranc...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Palmer's eyes lighted. Men of the old lion-breed know each other in spite of dress or heirship of opinion. "Ye've been to th' house to-night, boy?" said the old man, his voice softened. "Yes? That was right. Ye've truer notions nor me. I went away so 's not till meet yer. I'm sorry for it. George's gone, Dougl's, but ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Have you no more to say to me?" "Yes, Dougl's,--'s for my little girl,--ef so be as I should foller my boy sometime, I'd wish you'd be friends to Dode, Dougl's. Yes! I would,"--hesitating, something wet oozing from his small black eye, and losing itself in the snuffy wrinkles. Palmer was touched. It was a hard strugg...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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He went up into the pulpit, taking out the Bible that lay on the shelf, lighting a candle, glancing uneasily at the old man on the steps. He never had feared to meet his eye before. He turned to the fly-leaf, holding it to the candle. What odd fancy made him want to read the uncouth, blotted words written there? He kn...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Gaunt was startled. Somehow to-night he did not feel as if God was near on the hills, as Scofield thought. "I will,"--hesitating. "Are you going to see Dode first, before you go?" "Dode? Don't speak of her, boy! I'm sick! Kneel down an' pray,--the Lord's Prayer,--that's enough,--mother taught me that,"--baring his gra...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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He had met no pickets: he believed the whole Confederate camp there was asleep. And behind him, on the road he had just passed, trailing up the side of a hill, was a wavering, stealthy line, creeping slowly nearer every minute,--the gray columns under Dunning. The old man struck the rowels into his horse,--the boys wo...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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He was in advance of them, with one other man,--Dyke. Dyke took him, as knowing the country best, and being a trustworthy guide. So this was work! True work for a man. Marching hour after hour through the solitary night, he had time to think. Dyke talked to him but little: said once, "P'raps 't was as well the parsons...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Halt!" said Dyke. "Let them come up to us." Gaunt stopped in his shambling gait. "Look!" hissed Dyke,--"a spy!"--as the figure of a man climbed from a ditch where he had been concealed as he ran, and darted towards the rebel camp. "We'll miss them yet!"--firing after him with an oath. The pistol missed,--flashed in t...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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When the fight was nearly over, the horse which Palmer rode broke from the _mélée_ and rushed back to the road. His master did not guide him. His face was set, pale; there was a thin foam on his lips. He had felt a sabre-cut in his side in the first of the engagement, but had not heeded it: now, he was growing blind, ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Tink dem Yankees is gettin' de Debbil in de Gap," Bone said, consolingly. "Would yer like ter know how de fight is goin', Mars'?" "What matters it?" mumbled the old man. "Them things is triflin', after all,--now,--now." "Is dar anyting yer'd like me ter git, Mars' Joe?" said Bone, through his sobs. The thought of the...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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It was a cold winter's evening, that, after the funeral. The January wind came up with a sharp, dreary sough into the defiles of the hills, crusting over the snow-sweeps with a glaze of ice that glittered in the pearly sunlight, clear up the rugged peaks. There, at the edge of them, the snow fretted and arched and fel...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Out in the little kitchen, the day had warmed up wonderfully. Dode's Aunt Perrine, a widow of thirty years' standing, had come over to "see to things durin' this murnful affliction." As she had brought her hair-trunk and bonnet-box, it was probable her stay would be indefinite. Dode was conscious of her as she would b...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Well, well," she muttered, getting breath. "We'll not talk of our individooal sorrers when affliction is general, Jane Browst. S'pose we hev Bone in, and hear the perticklers of the scrimmage at Blue's Gap. It's little time I've hed for news since,"--with a groan to close the subject finally. Mis' Browst sighed an as...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Dougl's dead!" said Aunt Perrine. "Well!--in the midst of life--Yer not goin', Jane Browst? What's yer hurry, woman? You've but a step across the road. Stay to-night. Dode an' me'll be glad of yer company. It's better to come to the house of murnin' than the house of feastin', you know." "You may be thankful you've a...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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She did not speak; her face, with its straight-lidded eyes, turned to the mountain beyond which lay the Tear-coat gully. A fair face under its blue hood, even though white with pain,--an honorable face: the best a woman can know of pride and love in life spoke through it. "Mist' Dode," whined Ben, submissively, "what ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A strange peace came to the girl. She untied her hood and pushed it back, that her whole head might feel the still air. How pure it was! God was in it,--in all. The mountains, the sky, the armies yonder, her own heart, and his under the snow, rested in Him, like motes in the sunshine. The moon, rising behind a bank of...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Stooping, she went over the ground again, an unbroken waste of white: until, close to the water's edge, she found the ginseng-weeds torn and trampled down. She never afterwards smelt their unclean, pungent odor, without a sudden pang of the smothered pain of this night coming back to her. She knelt, and found foot-mar...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Did you find him?" she asked, without looking up. "I ought to have done it. I wish I had done that. I wish I had given him his life. It was my right." One would think she was talking in her sleep. "Why was it your right?" he asked, quietly. "Because I loved him." Gaunt raised his hand to his head suddenly. "Did you, ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Her eyes filled with tears at last, when he did not speak, and she turned away. The blood rushed to Palmer's face: surely that was more than pity! But he would not tempt her,--he would never vex her soul as he had done before: if she had come to him, as a sister might, because she thought he was dying, he would not ta...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"I understand you. I am to go back, then? It was a long road,--and cold, Douglas." He stopped abruptly, looked at her steadily. "Do not taunt me, child! I am a blunt man: what words say, they mean, to me. Do you love me, Theodora?" She did not speak, drawn back from him in the opposite shadow of the door-way. He leane...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Let me do it," he muttered. "I'd like to make your whole life warm, Dode,--your life, and--any one's you love." Dode's face flushed with a happy smile. Even David never would think of her as alone again. Poor David! She never before had thought how guileless he was,--how pitiful and solitary his life. "Come home with...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"Whatever you do, it will be honorable, David," said Palmer, gently. "I think--God might take it as expiation,"--holding his hand to his head. He did not speak again for a little while, then he said,---- "I will never see these old Virginian hills again. I am going West; they will let me nurse in one of the hospitals;...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A June day. These old Virginia hills have sucked in the winter's ice and snow, and throbbed it out again for the blue heaven to see in a whole summer's wealth of trees quivering with the luxury of being, in wreathed mosses, and bedded fern: the very blood that fell on them speaks in fair, grateful flowers to Him who ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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So Dode, with deeper-lit eyes, and fresher rose in her cheek, stands in the door this summer evening waiting for her husband. She cannot see him often; he has yet the work to do which he calls just and holy. But he is coming now. It is very quiet; she can hear her own heart beat slow and full; the warm air holds movel...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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A busy life, not one moment idle; but the man grows strong in it,--a healthy servant, doing a healthy work. The patients are glad when he comes to their ward in turn. How the windows open, and the fresh air comes in! how the lazy nurses find a masterful will over them! how full of innermost life he is! how real his Go...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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And Life about his being clasp Her rosy girdle once again:-- But no! let go your stubborn grasp On some wild hope, and take your pain! For, through the crystal of your tears, His love and beauty fairer shine; The shadows of advancing years Draw back, and leave him all divine. And Death, that ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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No age is without its attractions. There would be much to envy in the Greek or the Roman life, if we could have them clear of drawbacks. Many persons would be glad always to find Emerson in State Street, or sauntering in the Mall, ready to talk with all comers,--or to hear the latest words of Bancroft or Lowell from t...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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It is not that we are poorer or more penurious than our ancestors, but that we have more wants than they, and that the new wants overshadow the old. What is spent in one direction must be spared in another. The matter-of-course necessaries of our life were luxuries or were unknown to them. First of all, the luxury of ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Nor is there any ground for saying that the fault is in the builders,--that the old builders met the demands of their time, and would equally satisfy the demands of our time, without sacrifice of their art. The first demand in the days of good architecture was, that the building should have an independent artistic val...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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But though we admire the result, we have grown out of sympathy with the cause, the state of mind that produced it, and so the root wherefrom the like should be produced is cut off. There is no reason to suppose that the old builders were men of a different kind from ours, more earnest, more poetical. The stories about...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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This is displayed most fully in the doings of "Building Committees." Here we see what each member (perhaps it would be more just to say the least judicious among them) would do in his own case, were he free from the rude admonitions of necessity. He has at least to live in his own house, and so cannot escape some atte...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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It may be asked whether, then, I surrender the whole matter of appearance,--whether the building may as well be ugly as beautiful. By no means; what I have said is in the interest of beauty, as far as it is possible to us. Positive beauty it may be often necessary to forego, but bad taste is never necessary. Ugliness ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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The commonest case for counsel, and more common here than anywhere else, is where a man is to build for himself a house, especially in the country,--for town-houses are more governed by extraneous considerations. The first point is the _aspect_,--that the living-rooms be well open to the sun. Let no fancied advantages...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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The smallest house must provide some escape from the dining-room. If dining-room and sitting-room are on the sunny side, and the entrance be also on that side, they will be separated, as indeed they always may be, without loss. The notion that the rooms must immediately connect is one of those whims to which houses ar...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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In every case, unless a man is rich enough to have two houses in one, it comes to choice between domestic comfort and these occasional facilities. Direct connection of rooms usually involves the sacrifice of the chimney-corner, on one or both sides; for it is not pleasant to sit in a passage-way, even if it be rarely ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Mr. Garbett advises that the windows be many and small. This costs more; and if it be understood to involve placing the windows on different sides, the effect, I think, will be generally less agreeable than where the room is lighted wholly from one side. A capital exception, however, is the dining-room, which should a...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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We hear much of the importance of proportions, but the main point generally is that the house be not too high. This is the most universal difficulty, particularly in small houses, the area being diminished, but not the height of stories. In this respect the old farm-houses had a great advantage, and this is a main ele...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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The way out of this quagmire is first of all to avoid confusion of aim. What is this that we are building? If it is a monument, let us seek only to make it beautiful. But if it is a house, let us always keep in mind that the appearance of it, being really secondary, must be seen to have been held so throughout. Else w...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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MR. AXTELL. PART III. The twilight was almost gone on the Saturday night when I went back to the grave, solemn house. There was no one dead in it now. It was the first time that I had approached it without the abyss of shadow under its roof. A little elasticity came back to me. Kino came out to give his welcome: we ha...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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I looked down upon the gravelly earth lying above her, as I had looked across at it when I left the parsonage at night fall, and passed by the church-yard. All the while, my eyes were in the depths of the fire. I went down through stone and soil to the coffin there. All was unutterable blackness. I put out my hand to ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"It takes Mr. Axtell a very long time to take his tea," I thought; "he must know more of hunger's power than I.--I will look at the fire no more," I said, slowly, to myself, and closed my eyelids, somewhat willing to drop after all that they had endured that day. A soft, silver, "swimming sound" floated through the ro...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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I left the world, and went up to take my last watch with the convalescing lady. Her brother was with her. He looked a little surprised, when I went in; but the cloud of anger had gone away: folded it up he had, I fancied, all ready to shake out again upon the slightest provocation; and I did not care to see its folds ...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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I grew colder than ever, standing hesitatingly in the closet, whence a draught blew from the dressing-room beyond. I must have the shawl. I reached forth my hand to take it down. The dress, I found, was hung over it. It must needs come off, before the shawl. I lifted it, catching, as I did so, my fingers in a rent,--w...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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She must have seen it quite well, for it had been lying in the full light of the blazing wood. "Have you a dress like that?" she asked, when I had restored the fragment. "I have not," I replied. "I am sorry I awakened you." "It was a dream that awakened me," she said. "Will you have the kindness to give me that bit of...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"It seems not," I said; "but the tideless hearts, what of them?" "Oh, they are the hardest of all. Think! Imagine one of those serene, iridescent rings of land, moored close beside the cliff, at which the waves never rest from beating. Could the one forever at peace, with leave from wind and wave to grow its verdure a...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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I knew not how to reply. The very bit of material which she had hidden underneath a pillow was the cause; and so I answered,-- "Town-life is so different; one becomes so accustomed to a ring of changes in the all-around of life, that, when in the country, one looks for something to remind one of the life that has been...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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Five hours came booming up from the village-clock. The wind must have changed, or I could not have heard the strokes, so roundly full. "How short the hour has been!" was my first thought. Kino began a furious, untimely barking. "What for?" I wondered; and I lifted up my head and listened. No sound; the room was very s...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"What is it?" I asked. "Is anything wrong, Mr. Axtell?" "It seems not," he said. "Kino's barking aroused me,--it is so unusual. How has she slept?" "Very well. For the last hour she has not spoken." Kino began again his low, dismal howling. "Did not the dog disturb her when he barked?" Mr. Axtell had walked to the lou...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"No; I found the front-door unfastened. I thought Katie might have forgotten it, when I went to see. She has gone out, I know." He looked for the wrappings she might have put on, searching, as he did so, for the small lamp that always was placed beside the larger one upon the table. It was gone. It had been there at f...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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"It isn't your sister," I said. "You, Miss Percival? Why are you out?" and he seemed anxious. He said, "You are suffering too much from the 'strange people.'" How could he mention my hasty words at such a time? and I remembered the unforgiving face that I had touched a fathom deep under the hard ground. "I'm glad I've...
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 60, October, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
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