Charles James Fox - "A History of the Early Part of the Reign of James the Second"

Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v21: The Spectacles &c."

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1585"

Thornton W. Burgess - "Old Granny Fox"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Nature\'s Serial Story

E >> E. P. Roe >> Nature\'s Serial Story




"Well," said Burt, laughing, "that exceeds any eagle adventure that I
have heard of in this region. In the car business you certainly brought
his majesty down to the prose of common life, and I don't wonder the
regal bird refused to eat thereafter."

"Cannot eagles be tamed--made gentle and friendly?" old Mrs. Clifford
asked. "I think I remember hearing that you had a pet eagle years ago."

"Yes, I kept one--a female--six months. She was an unusually large
specimen, and measured about eight feet with wings extended. The females of
all birds of prey, you know, are larger than the males. As in the former
case, I had broken one of her wings, and she also threw herself on her back
and made her defence in the most savage manner. Although I took every
precaution in my power, my hands were bleeding in several places before I
reached home, and, in fact, she kept them in a rather dilapidated condition
all the time I had her. I placed her in a large empty room connected with
the barn, and found her ready enough to eat. Indeed, she was voracious, and
the savage manner in which she tore and swallowed her food was not a
pleasant spectacle. I bought several hundred live carp--a cheap, bony
fish--and put them in a ditch where I could take them with a net as I
wanted them. The eagle would spring upon a fish, take one of her long hops
into a corner, and tear off its head with one stroke of her beak. While I
was curing her broken wing the creature tolerated me after a fashion, but
when she was well she grew more and more savage and dangerous. Once a
Dutchman, who worked for us, came in with me, and the way the eagle chased
that man around the room and out of the door, he swearing meanwhile in high
German and in a high key, was a sight to remember. I was laughing
immoderately, when the bird swooped down on my shoulder, and the scars
would have been there to-day had not her talons been dulled by their
constant attrition with the boards of her extemporized cage. Covering my
face with my arm--for she could take one's eye out by a stroke of her
beak--I also retreated. She then dashed against the window with such force
that she bent the wood-work and broke every pane of glass. She seemed so
wild for freedom that I gave it to her, but the foolish creature, instead
of sailing far away, lingered on a bluff near the river, and soon boys and
men were out after her with shot-guns. I determined that they should not
mangle her to no purpose, and so, with the aid of my rifle, I added her
also to my collection of specimens."

"Have you ever found one of their nests?" Webb asked.

"Yes. They are rather curious affairs, and are sometimes five feet in
diameter each way, and quite flat at the top. They use for the substratum
of the domicile quite respectable cord-wood sticks, thicker than one's
wrist. The mother-bird must be laying her eggs at this season, cold as it
is. But they don't mind the cold, for they nest above the Arctic Circle."

"I don't see how it is possible for them to protect their eggs and young
in such severe weather," Mrs. Clifford remarked.

"Nature takes care of her own in her own way," replied the doctor, with a
slight shrug. "One of the birds always remains on the nest."

"Well," said Squire Bartley, who had listened rather impatiently to so
much talk about an unprofitable bird, "I wish my hens were laying now.
Seems to me that Nature does better by eagles and crows than by any fowls
I ever had. Good-night, friends."

With a wistful glance at Amy's pure young face, and a sigh so low. that
only pitiful Mrs. Leonard heard it, Mr. Alvord also bowed himself out in
his quiet way.

"Doctor," said Burtis, resolutely, "you have excited my strongest
emulation, and I shall never be content until I have brought down an
eagle or two."

"Dear me!" cried the doctor, looking at his watch, "I should think that
you would have had enough of eagles, and of me also, by this time.
Remember, Miss Amy, I prescribe birds, but don't watch a bald-eagle's
nest too closely. We are not ready to part with your bright eyes any more
than you are."




CHAPTER IX

SLEIGHING IN THE HIGHLANDS


During the night there was a slight fall of snow, and Webb explained at
the breakfast-table that its descent had done more to warm the air than
would have been accomplished by the fall of an equal amount of red-hot
sand. But more potent than the freezing particles of vapor giving off
their latent heat were the soft south wind and the bright sunshine, which
seemingly had the warmth of May.

"Come, Amy," said Burtis, exultantly, "this is no day to mope in the
house. If you will trust yourself to me and Thunder, you shall skim the
river there as swiftly as you can next summer on the fastest steamer."

Amy was too English to be afraid of a horse, and with wraps that soon
proved burdensome in the increasing warmth of the day, she and Burt
dashed down the slopes and hill that led to the river, and out upon the
wide, white plain. She was a little nervous as she thought of the fathoms
of cold, dark water beneath her; but when she saw the great loads of
lumber and coal that were passing to and fro on the track she was
convinced that the ice-bridge was safe, and she gave herself up to the
unalloyed enjoyment of the grand scenery. First they crossed Newburgh
Bay, with the city rising steeply on one side, and the Beacon Mountains
further away on the other. The snow covered the ice unbrokenly, except as
tracks crossed here and there to various points. Large flocks of crows
were feeding on these extemporized roadways, and they looked blacker than
crows in the general whiteness. As the sleigh glided here and there it
was hard for Amy to believe that they were in the track of steamers and
innumerable sail-boats, and that the distant shores did not slope down to
a level plain, on which the grass and grain would wave in the coming
June; but when Burt turned southward and drove under the great beetling
mountains, and told her that their granite feet were over a hundred yards
deep in the water, she understood the marvellous engineering of the
frost-spirit that had spanned the river, where the tides are so swift,
and had so strengthened it in a few short days and nights that it could
bear enormous burdens.

Never before had she seen such grand and impressive scenery. They could
drive within a few feet of the base of Storm King and Cro' Nest; and the
great precipices and rocky ledges, from which often hung long, glittering
icicles, seemed tenfold more vast than when seen from a distance. The
furrowed granite cliffs, surmounted by snow, looked like giant faces,
lined and wrinkled by age and passion. Even the bright sunshine could do
little to soften their frowning grandeur. Amy's face became more and more
serious as the majesty of the landscape impressed her, and she grew
silent under Burtis's light talk. At last she said:

"How transient and insignificant one feels among these mountains! They
could not have looked very different on the morning when Adam first saw
Eve."

"They are indeed superb," replied Burt, "and I am glad my home--our
home--is among them; and yet I am sure that Adam would have found Eve
more attractive than all the mountains in the world, just as I find your
face, flushed by the morning air, far more interesting than these hills
that I have known and loved so long."

"My face is a novelty, brother Burt," she answered, with deepening color,
for the young fellow's frequent glances of admiration were slightly
embarrassing.

"Strange to say, it is growing so familiar that I seem to have known you
all my life," he responded, with a touch of tenderness in his tone.

"That is because I am your sister," she said, quietly. "Both the word and
the relation suggest the idea that we have grown up together," and then
she changed the subject so decidedly that even impetuous Burt felt that
he must be more prudent in expressing the interest which daily grew
stronger. As they were skirting Constitution Island, Amy exclaimed:

"What a quaint old house! Who lives there all alone?"

"Some one that you know about, I imagine. Have you ever read 'The Wide,
Wide World'?"

"What girl has not?"

"Well, Miss Warner, the author of the book, resides there. The place has
a historical interest also. Do you see those old walls? They were built
over one hundred years ago. At the beginning of the Revolution, the
Continental authorities were stupid enough to spend considerable money,
for that period, in the building of a fort on those rocks. Any one might
have seen that the higher ground opposite, at West Point, commanded the
position."

"No matter about the fort. Tell me of Miss Warner."

"Well, she and her sister spend their summers there, and are ever busy
writing, I believe. I'll row you down in the spring after they return.
They are not there in winter, I am told. I have no doubt that she will
receive you kindly, and tell you all about herself."

"I shall not fail to remind you of your promise, and I don't believe she
will resent a very brief call from one who longs to see her and speak
with her. I am not curious about celebrities in general, but there are
some writers whose words have touched my heart, and whom I would like to
see and thank. Where are you going now?"

"I am going to show you West Point in its winter aspect. You will find it
a charming place to visit occasionally, only you must not go so often as
to catch the cadet fever."

"Pray what is that?"

"It is an acute attack of admiration for very young men of a military
cut. I use the word cut advisedly, for these incipient soldiers look for
all the world as if carved out of wood. They gradually get over their
stiffness, however, and as officers usually have a fine bearing, as you
may see if we meet any of them. I wish, though, that you could See a
squad of 'plebes' drilling. They would provoke a grin on the face of old
Melancholy himself."

"Where is the danger, then, of acute admiration?"

"Well, they improve, I suppose, and are said to be quite irresistible
during the latter part of their course. You need not laugh. If you knew
how many women--some of them old enough to be the boys' mothers--had
succumbed, you would take my warning to heart."

"What nonsense! You are a little jealous of them, Burt."

"I should be indeed if you took a fancy to any of them."

"Well, I suppose that is one of the penalties of having brothers. Are all
these houses officers' quarters?"

They had now left the ice, and were climbing the hill as he replied:

"No, indeed. This is Logtown--so named, I suppose, because in the earlier
days of the post log huts preceded these small wooden houses. They are
chiefly occupied by enlisted men and civilian employees. That large
building is the band barracks. The officers' quarters, with a few
exceptions, are just above the brow of the hill west and south of the
plain."

In a few moments Amy saw the wide parade and drill ground, now covered
with untrodden snow.

"What a strange formation of land, right in among the mountains," she
said.

"Yes," replied her companion. "Nature could not have designed a better
place for a military school. It is very accessible, yet easily guarded,
and the latter is an important point, for some of the cadets are very
wild, and disposed toward larks."

"I imagine that they are like other young fellows. Were you a saint at
college?"

"How can you think otherwise? There, just opposite to us, out on the
plain, the evening parade takes place after the spring fairly opens. I
shall bring you down to see it, and 'tis a pretty sight. The music also
is fine. Oh, I shall be magnanimous, and procure you some introductions
if you wish."

"Thank you. That will be the best policy. These substantial buildings on
our right are the officers' quarters, I suppose?"

"Yes. That is the commandant's, and the one beyond it is the
superintendent's. They are both usually officers of high rank, who have
made an honorable record for themselves. The latter has entire charge of
the post, and the position is a very responsible one; nor is it by any
means a sinecure, for when the papers have nothing else to find fault
with they pick at West Point."

"I should think the social life here would be very pleasant."

"It is, in many respects. Army ties beget a sort of comradeship which
extends to the officers' wives. Frequent removal from one part of the
country to another prevents anything like vegetating. The ladies, I am
told, do not become overmuch engrossed in housekeeping, and acquire
something of a soldier's knack of doing without many things which would
naturally occupy their time and thought if they looked forward to a
settled life. Thus they have more time for reading and society. Those
that I have met have certainly been very bright and companionable, and
many who in girlhood were accustomed to city luxury can tell some strange
stories of their frontier life. There is one army custom which often
bears pretty hard. Can you imagine yourself an officer's wife?"

"I'll try, if it will be of help to you."

"Then suppose you were nicely settled in one of those houses, your
furniture arranged, carpets down, etc. Some morning you learn that an
officer outranking your husband has been ordered here on duty. His first
step may be to take possession of your house. Quarters are assigned in
accordance with rank, and you would be compelled to gather up your
household goods and take them to some smaller dwelling. Then your
husband--how droll the word sounds!--could compel some other officer,
whom he outranked, to move. It would seem that the thing might go on
indefinitely, and the coming of a new officer produce a regular 1st of
May state of affairs."

"I perceive that you are slyly providing an antidote against the cadet
fever. What large building is this?"

"The cadet barracks. There are over two hundred young fellows in the
building. They have to study, I can tell you, nor can they slip through
here as some of us did at college. All must abide the remorseless
examinations, and many drop out. There goes a squad to the riding hall.
Would you like to see the drill and sabre practice?"

Amy assenting, they soon reached the balcony overlooking the arena, and
spent an amused half-hour. The horses were rather gay, and some were
vicious, while the young girl's eyes seemed to have an inspiriting effect
upon the riders. Altogether the scene was a lively one, and at times
exciting. Burt then drove southward almost to Fort Montgomery, and
returning skirted the West Point plain by the river road, pointing out
objects of interest at almost every turn, and especially calling the
attention of his companion to old Fort Putnam, which he assured her
should be the scene of a family picnic on some bright summer day, Amy's
wonder and delight scarcely knew bounds when from the north side of the
plain she saw for the first time the wonderful gorge through which the
river flows southward from Newburgh Bay--Mount Taurus and Breakneck on
one side, and Cro' Nest and Storm King on the other. With a deep sigh of
content, she said:

"I'm grateful that my home is in such a region as this."

"I'm grateful too," the young fellow replied, looking at her and not at
the scenery.

But she was too pre-occupied to give him much attention, and in less than
half an hour Thunder's fleet steps carried them through what seemed a
realm of enchantment, and they were at home. "Burt," she said, warmly, "I
never had such a drive before. I have enjoyed every moment."

"Ditto, ditto," he cried, merrily, as the horse dashed off with him
toward the barn.




CHAPTER X

A WINTER THUNDER-STORM


Even before the return of Burtis and Amy the sun had been obscured by a
fast-thickening haze, and while the family was at dinner the wind began
to moan and sigh around the house in a way that foretold a storm.

"I fear we shall lose our sleighing," old Mr. Clifford remarked, "for all
the indications now point to a warm rain."

His prediction was correct. Great masses of vapor soon came pouring over
Storm King, and the sky grew blacker every moment. The wind blew in
strong, fitful gusts, and yet the air was almost sultry. By four o'clock
the rain began to dash with almost the violence of a summer shower
against the windowpanes of Mr. and Mrs. Clifford's sitting-room, and it
grew so dark that Amy could scarcely see to read the paper to the old
gentleman. Suddenly she was startled by a flash, and she looked up
inquiringly for an explanation.

"You did not expect to see a thunder-storm almost in midwinter?" said Mr.
Clifford, with a smile. "This unusual sultriness is producing unseasonable
results."

"Is not a thunder-storm at this season very rare?" she asked.

"Yes; and yet some of the sharpest lightning I have ever seen has
occurred in winter."

A heavy rumble in the southwest was now heard, and the interval between
the flash and the report indicated that the storm centre was still
distant. "I would advise you to go up to Maggie's room," resumed Mr.
Clifford, "for from her south and west windows you may witness a scene
that you will not soon forget. You are not afraid, are you?"

"No, not unless there is danger," she replied, hesitatingly.

"I have never been struck by lightning," the old man remarked, with a
smile, "and I have passed through many storms. Come, I'll go with you. I
never tire of watching the effects down among the mountains."

They found Mrs. Leonard placidly sewing, with Johnnie and Ned playing
about the room. "You, evidently, are not afraid," said Amy.

"Oh no!" she replied. "I have more faith in the presence of little
children than in the protection of lightning-rods. Yes, you may come in,"
she said to Webb, who stood at the door. "I suppose you think my sense of
security has a very unscientific basis?"

"There are certain phases of credulity that I would not disturb for the
world," he answered: "and who knows but you are right? What's more, your
faith is infectious; for, whatever reason might tell me, I should still
feel safer in a wild storm with the present company around me. Don't you
think it odd, Amy, that what we may term natural feeling gets the better
of the logic of the head? If that approaching storm should pass directly
over us, with thickly flying bolts, would you not feel safer here?"

"Yes."

Webb laughed in his low, peculiar way, and murmured, "What children an
accurate scientist would call us!"

"In respect to some things I never wish to grow up," she replied.

"I believe I can echo that wish. The outlook is growing fine, isn't it?"

The whole sky, which in the morning had smiled so brightly in undimmed
sunshine, was now black with clouds. These hung so low that the house
seemed the centre of a narrow and almost opaque horizon. The room soon
darkened with the gloom of twilight, and the faces of the inmates faded
into shadowy outlines. The mountains, half wrapped in vapor, loomed vast
and indefinite in the obscurity. Every moment the storm grew nearer, and
its centre was marked by an ominous blackness which the momentary flashes
left all the more intense. The young girl grew deeply absorbed in the
scene, and to Webb the strong, pure profile of her awed face, as the
increasingly vivid flashes revealed it, was far more attractive than the
landscape without, which was passing with swift alternations from ghastly
gloom to even more ghastly pallor. He looked at her; the rest looked at
the storm, the children gathering like chickens under the mother's wing.

At last there came a flash that startled them all. The mountains leaped
out of the darkness like great sheeted spectres, and though seen but a
second, they made so strong an impression that they seemed to have left
their solid bases and to be approaching in the gloom. Then came a
magnificent peal that swept across the whole southern arch of the sky.
The reverberations among the hills were deep, long, and grand, and the
fainter echoes had not died away before there was another flash--another
thunderous report, which, though less loud than the one that preceded it,
maintained the symphony with scarcely diminished grandeur.

"This is our Highland music, Amy," Webb remarked, as soon as he could be
heard. "It has begun early this season, but you will hear much of it
before the year is out."

"It is rather too sublime for my taste," replied the young girl,
shrinking closer to Mr. Clifford's side.

"You are safe, my child," said the old man, encircling her with his arm.

"Let me also reassure you in my prosaic way," Webb continued. "There, do
you not observe that though this last flash seemed scarcely less vivid,
the report followed more tardily, indicating that the storm centre is
already well to the south and east of us? The next explosion will take
place over the mountains beyond the river. You may now watch the scene in
security, for the heavenly artillery is pointed away from you."

"Thank you. I must admit that your prose is both reassuring and inspiring.
How one appreciates shelter and home on such a night as this! Hear the rain
splash against the window! Every moment the air seems filled with
innumerable gems as the intense light pierces them. Think of being out
alone on the river, or up there among the hills, while Nature is in such an
awful mood!--the snow, the slush, everything dripping, the rain rushing
down like a cataract, and thunder-bolts playing over one's head. In
contrast, look around this home-like room. Dear old father's serene
face"--for Mr. Clifford had already taught her to call him father--"makes
the Divine Fatherhood seem more real. Innocent little Ned here does indeed
seem a better protection than a lightning-rod, while Johnnie, putting her
doll to sleep in the corner, is almost absolute assurance of safety. Your
science is all very well, Webb, but the heart demands something as well as
the head. Oh, I wish all the world had such shelter as I have to-night!"

It was not often that Amy spoke so freely and impulsively. Like many with
delicate organizations, she was excited by the electrical condition of
the air. The pallor of awe had given place to a joyous flush, and her
eyes were brilliant.

"Sister Amy," said Webb, as they went down to supper, "you must be
careful of yourself, and others must be careful of you, for you have not
much _vis inertiae_. Some outside influences might touch you, as I would
touch your piano, and make sad discord."

"Should I feel very guilty because I have not more of that substantial
quality which can only find adequate expression in Latin?" she asked,
with a humorous glance.

"Oh, no! At least not in my opinion. I much prefer a woman in whom the
spirit is pre-eminent over the clay. We are all made of dust, you know,
and we men, I fear, often smack of the soil too strongly; therefore we
are best pleased with contrasts. Moreover, our country life will brace
you without blunting your nature. I should be sorry for you, though, if
you were friendless, and had to face the world alone."

"That can scarcely happen now," she said, with a grateful glance.

During the early part of the evening they all became absorbed in a story,
which Webb read aloud. At last Mr. Clifford rose, drew aside the
curtains, and looked out. "Come here, Amy," he said. "Look where the
storm thundered a few hours since!"

The sky was cloudless, the winds were hushed, the stars shining, and the
mountains stood out gray and serene in the light of the rising moon.

"See, my child, the storm has passed utterly away, and everything speaks
of peace and rest. In my long life I have had experiences which at the
time seemed as dark and threatening as the storm that awed you in the
early evening, but they passed also, and a quiet like that which reigns
without followed. Put the lesson away in your heart, my dear; but may it
be long before you have occasion for its use! Good-night."




CHAPTER XI

NATURE UNDER GLASS


The next morning Amy asked Mrs. Clifford to initiate her more fully into
the mysteries of her flowers, promising under her direction to assume
their care in part. The old lady welcomed her assistance cordially, and
said, "You could not take your lesson on a more auspicious occasion, for
Webb has promised to aid me in giving my pets a bath to-day, and he can
explain many things better than I can."

Webb certainly did not appear averse to the arrangement, and all three were
soon busy in the flower-room. "You see," resumed Mrs. Clifford, "I use the
old-fashioned yellow pots. I long ago gave up all the glazed, ornamental
affairs with which novices are tempted, learning from experience that they
are a delusion and a snare. Webb has since made it clear to me that the
roots need a circulation of air and a free exhalation of moisture as truly
as the leaves, and that since glazed pots do not permit this, they should
never be employed. After all, there is nothing neater than these common
yellow porous pots. I always select the yellowest ones, for they are the
most porous. Those that are red are hard-baked, and are almost as bad as
the glazed abominations, which once cost me some of my choice favorites."