Charlotte Mary Yonge - "Modern Broods"

Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v14: The Hermit &c."

D. P. Thompson - "The Rangers"

Charles de Bernard - "Gerfaut, v3"

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: Opening a Chestnut Burr

E >> Edward Payson Roe >> Opening a Chestnut Burr




"And then consider the simplicity and ease of the persecutor's
method," continued Gregory, mockingly. "A man's head has become full
of supposed doctrinal errors. To refute and banish these would require
much study and argument on the part of the opponent. It was so much
easier to take an obstinate heretic's head off than to argue with him!
I think it was the simplicity of the persecutor's method that kept it
in favor so long."

"But it never convinced any one," said Annie, "and the man killed
merely goes into another world of the same opinion still."

"And there probably learns, poor fellow, that both were wrong, and
that he had better have been content with good dinners and a quiet
life, and let theology alone."

"The world would move but slowly, if all men were content with 'good
dinners and a quiet life,'" said Annie, satirically. "But you have not
answered my question. Could not good, earnest men have been very
cruel, believing that everything depended on their uprooting some evil
of their day?"

"To tell the truth, Miss Walton," he replied, a little nettled, "I
have no sympathy with that style of men. To me they are very repulsive
and ridiculous. They remind me of the breathless, perspiring
politicians of our time, who button-hole you and assert that the world
will come to an end unless John Smith is elected. To me, the desperate
earnestness of people who imagine it their mission to set the world
right is excessively tiresome. For one man or a thousand to proclaim
that they speak for God and embody truth, and that the race should
listen and obey, is the absurdity of arrogance."

"If we were to agree with you, should we not have to say that the
prophets should have kept their visions to themselves, and that Luther
should have remained in his cell, and Columbus have coasted alongshore
and not insisted on what was to all the world an absurdity?"

"Come, Miss Walton," said Gregory, with a vexed laugh as they rose
from the table, "you are a witch. I am willing to argue with flesh and
blood, but I would rather hear you sing. Still, since you have swept
away these clouds so I can have my ramble, I will forgive you for
unhorsing me in our recent tilt."

"If you would mount some good honest hobby and ride it hard, I doubt
whether any one could unhorse you," she replied in a low tone, as she
accompanied him to the parlor.

"Men with hobbies are my detestation, Miss Walton."

"Nevertheless, they are the true knights-errant of our age. Of course
it depends upon what kind of hobbies they ride, or whether they can
manage their steeds."

"Miss Walton, your figure suggests a half-idiot, with a narrow
forehead and one idea, banging back and forth on a wooden horse, but
making no progress--in other words, a fussy, bustling man who can do
and talk but one thing."

"Your understanding of the popular phrase is narrow and literal, and
while it may have such a meaning, it can also have a very different
one. Suppose that, instead of looking with languid eyes alike upon all
things, a man finds some question of vital import, or a pursuit that
promises good to himself and to others and that enlists his interest.
He comes at last to give it his best energies and thought. The whole
current of his life is setting in that direction. Of course he must
ever be under the restraints of good sense and refinement. A man's
life without a hobby is a weak and wavering line of battle
indefinitely long. One's life with a hobby is a concentrated charge."

There was in Miss Walton's face and manner, as she uttered these
words, that which caused him to regard her with involuntary
admiration. Suddenly he asked, "Have you a hobby?"

Her manner changed instantly, and with an arch look she said, "If you
detest a man with a hobby, what a monster a woman with one would be in
your eyes!"

"I have admitted that you are a witch."

"Oh, I am a monster already, and so have no character to lose. But
where is your penetration? If a man with a hobby is idiotic, narrow-
browed, fussy and bustling, excessively obtrusive with his one idea, a
woman must be like him with all these things exaggerated. Has it not
occurred to you that I have a hobby of the most wooden and clumsy
order?"

"But that was my idea of a hobby. You have spiritualized my wooden
block into a Pegasus--the symbol of inspiration. Have you such a
hobby?"

"I have."

"What is it?"

She went out of the room, saying smilingly over her shoulder, "You
must find that out for yourself."




CHAPTER X

A PLOT AGAINST MISS WALTON



Gregory was soon off for his ramble. The storm had cleared away,
leaving the air so warm and genial as to suggest spring rather than
fall; but he was quite oblivious of the outer world, and familiar
scenes had not the power to awaken either pleasant or painful
associations. He was trying to account for the influence that Annie
Walton had suddenly gained over him, but it was beyond his philosophy.
This provoked him. His cool, worldly nature doubted everything and
especially everybody. He believed in the inherent weakness of
humanity, and that if people were exceptionally good it was because
they had been exceptionally fortunate in escaping temptation. He also
had a cynical pleasure in seeing such people tripping and stumbling,
so that he might say in self-excusing, "We are all alike."

And yet he was compelled to admit that if Annie's goodness was seeming
it was higher art than he had known before. There was also an
unconscious assertion of superiority in her manner that he did not
like. True, things had turned out far better than he had expected.
There was no cant about her. She did not lecture him or "talk
religion" in what he regarded as the stereotyped way, and he was sure
she would not, even if they became better acquainted. But there is
that in genuine goodness and nobility of character that always
humiliates the bad and makes them feel their degradation. A real pity
and sympathy for him tinged her manner, but these qualities are not
agreeable to pride. And it must be admitted that she had a little
self-righteous satisfaction that she was so much better than this
sadly robbed and wounded man suddenly appearing at the wayside of her
life. In human strength there is generally a trace of arrogance. Only
divine strength and purity can say with perfect love and full
allowance for all weakness and adverse influences, "Neither do I
condemn thee; go, and sin no more."

Gregory had now reached a rustic bridge across a little stream that,
swollen from the recent rain, came gurgling and clamoring down from
the hills. Leaning upon the rail he seemed to watch the foaming water
glide under his feet; but the outward vision made no impression on his
mind.

At last in the consciousness of solitude he said: "She told me I must
find her out. I will. I will know whether she is as free from human
frailty as she seems. I have little doubt that before many days I can
cause her to show all the inherent weaknesses of her sex; and I should
think New York and Paris had taught me what they are. She has never
been tempted. She has never been subjected to the delicate flattery of
an accomplished man of the world. I am no gross libertine. I could not
be in this place. I could not so wrong hospitality and the household
of my father's friend. But I should like to prove to that girl her
delusion, and show her that she is a weak woman like the rest; that
she is a pretty painted ship that has never been in a storm, and
therefore need not sail so confidently. We all start on the voyage of
life as little skiffs and pleasure boats might cross the ocean. If any
get safely over, it is because they were lucky enough not to meet
dangerous currents or rough weather. I should like her better with her
piquant ways if she were more like myself. Saints and Madonnas are
well enough in pictures, but such as I would find them very
uncomfortable society."

With sudden power the thought flashed upon him, "Why not let her make
you as she is?" Where did the thought come from? Tell me not that the
Divine Father forgets His children. He is speaking to them
continually, only they will not hear. There was a brief passionate
wish on the part of this bad man that she might be what she seemed and
that he could become like her. As the turbulent, muddy Jordan divided
that God's people might pass through, so this thought from heaven
found passage through his heart, and then the current of sinful
impulse and habit flowed on as before. With the stupidity of evil he
was breaking the clew that God had dropped into his hand even when
desperately weary of his lost state. He is wrecked and helpless on the
wide ocean; a ship is coming to his rescue; and his first effort is
that this vessel also may be wrecked or greatly injured in the
attempt.

There is no insanity like that of a perverted heart. The adversary of
souls has so many human victims doing his work that he can fold his
hands in idleness. And yet according to the world's practice, and we
might almost say its code, Gregory purposed nothing that would be
severely condemned--nothing more than an ordinary flirtation, as
common in society as idleness, love of excitement, and that power over
others which ministers to vanity. He had no wish to be able to say
anything worse of her than that under temptation she would be as vain
and heartless a coquette as many others that he knew in what is
regarded as good society. He would have cut off his right hand, as he
then felt, rather than have sought to lead her into gross sin.

And yet what did Gregory purpose in regard to Annie but to take the
heavenly bloom and beauty from her character? As if they can be lovely
to either God or man of whom it can be said only, They commit no overt
crime. What is the form of a rose without its beauty and fragrance?
They who tempt to evil are the real iconoclasts. They destroy God's
image.

But the supreme question of the selfish heart is, "What do I want
_now?_"

Gregory wished to satisfy himself and Miss Walton that she had no
grounds for claiming any special superiority over him, and he turned
on his heel and went back to the house to carry out his purpose.
Nature, purified and beautiful by reason of its recent baptism from
heaven, had no attractions for him. Gems of moisture sparkled unseen.
He was planning and scheming to turn her head with vanity, make her
quiet life of ministry to others odious, and draw her into a
fashionable flirtation.

Annie did not appear until the supper-bell summoned her, and then
said, "Mr. Gregory, I hope you will not think it rude if father and I
leave you to your books and Aunt Eulie's care this evening. It is our
church prayer-meeting night, and father never likes to be absent."

"I shall miss you beyond measure. The evening will seem an age."

Something in his tone caused her to give him a quick glance, but she
only said, with a smile, "You are very polite to say so, but I imagine
the last magazine will be a good substitute."

"I doubt whether there is a substitute for you, Miss Walton. I am
coming to believe that your absence would make that vacuum which
nature so dreads. You shall see how good I will be this evening, and
you shall read me everything you please, even to that 'Ancient
Ecclesiastical History.' If you will only stay I will be your slave;
and you shall rule me with a rod of iron or draw me with the silken
cords of kindness, according to your mood."

"It is not well to have too many moods, Mr. Gregory," said Annie,
quietly. "In reply to all your alluring reasons for staying at home I
have only to say that I have promised father to go with him; besides,
I think it is my duty to go."

"'Duty' is a harsh, troublesome word to be always quoting. It is a
kind of strait-jacket which we poor moral lunatics are compelled to
wear."

"'Duty' seems to me a good solid road on which one may travel safely.
One never knows where the side paths lead: into the brambles or a
morass like enough."

"Indeed, Miss Walton, such austerity is not becoming to your youth and
beauty."

"What am I to think of your sincerity when you speak of my beauty, Mr.
Gregory?"

"Beauty is a question of taste," answered Gregory, gallantly. "It is
settled by no rigid rules or principles, but by the eyes of the
observer."

"Oh! I understand now. My beauty this evening is the result of your
bad taste."

"Calling it 'bad' does not make it so. Well, since you will not remain
at home with me, will you not let me go with you to the prayer-
meeting? If I'm ever to join your church, it is time I entered on the
initiating mysteries."

"I think a book will do you more good in your present mood."

"What a low estimate you make of the 'means of grace'! Why, certain of
your own poets have said, 'And fools who came to scoff remained to
pray.'"

"The quotation does not apply to you, Mr. Gregory. For, even if you
can doubt the power and truth of Christianity, the memory of your
childhood will prevent you from scoffing at it."

A sudden shadow came across his face, but after a moment he said, in
his old tones:

"Will you not let me go to the prayer-meeting?"

"Father will be glad to have you go with us, if you think it prudent
to venture out in the night air."

"Prudence to the dogs! What is the use of living if we cannot do as we
please? But will _you_ be glad to have me go?"

"That depends upon your motives."

"If I should confess you wouldn't let me go," he replied with a bow.
"But I will try to be as good as possible, just to reward your
kindness."

The rest of the family now joined them in the supper-room, and during
the meal Walter exerted himself to show how entertaining he could be
if he chose. Anecdotes, incidents of travel, graphic sketches of
society, and sallies of wit, made an hour pass before any one was
aware.

Even the children listened with wondering eyes, and Mr. Walton and
Miss Eulie were delighted with the vivacity of their guest. Annie
apparently had no reason to complain of him, for his whole manner
toward her during the hour was that of delicately sustained
compliment. When she spoke he listened with deference, and her words
usually had point and meaning. He also gave to her remarks the best
interpretation of which they were capable, and by skilfully drawing
her out made her surpass even herself, so that Miss Eulie said, "Why,
Annie, there surely is some witchcraft about. You and Mr. Gregory are
as brilliant as fireworks."

"It's all Miss Walton's work, I assure you," said Gregory. "As Pat
declared, 'I'm not meself any more,' and shall surprise you, sir, by
asking if I may go to the prayer-meeting. Miss Walton says I can if I
will behave myself. The last time I went to the old place I made faces
at the girls. I suppose that would be wrong."

"That is the sin of our age--making faces," said Annie. "Many have
two, and some can make for themselves even more."

"Now that was a barbed arrow," said Gregory, looking at her keenly.
"Did you let it fly at a venture?"

"Bless me!" said Mr. Walton, rising hastily, "we should have been on
the road a quarter of an hour ago. You mustn't be so entertaining
another prayer-meeting night, Mr. Gregory. Of course we shall be glad
to have you accompany us if you feel well enough. I give you both but
five minutes before joining me at the wagon."

Walter again mounted the stairs with something of his old buoyancy,
and Annie followed, looking curiously after him.

It was not in human nature to be indifferent to that most skilful
flattery which can be addressed to woman--the recognition of her
cleverness, and the enhancing of it by adroit and suggestive
questions--and yet all his manner was tinged by a certain insincere
gallantry, rather than by a manly, honest respect. She vaguely felt
this, though she could not distinctly point it out. He puzzled her.
What did he mean, and at what was he aiming?




CHAPTER XI

A DRINKING-SONG AT A PRAYER-MEETING



Having failed in his attempt to induce Annie to remain at home,
Gregory resolved that the prayer-meeting should not be one of quiet
devotion. Mr. Walton made him, as an invalid, take the back seat with
Annie, while he sat with the driver, and Gregory, after a faint show
of resistance, gladly complied.

"It's chilly. Won't you give me half of your shawl?" he said to her.

"You may have it all," she replied, about to take it off.

"No, I'll freeze first. Do the brethren and sisters sit together?"

"No," she answered, laughing, "we have got in the queer way of
dividing the room between us, and the few men who attend sit on one
side and we on the other."

"Oh, it's almost a female prayer-meeting then. Do the sisters pray?"

"Mr. Gregory, you are not a stranger here that you need pretend to
such ignorance. I think the meeting is conducted very much as when you
were a boy."

"With this most interesting difference, that you will be there and
will sing, I hope. Miss Walton, where did you learn to sing?"

"Mainly at home."

"I should think so. Your voice is as unlike that of a public singer as
you are unlike the singer herself."

"It must seem very tame to you."

"It seems very different. We have an artificial-flower department in
our store. There is no lack of color and form there, I assure you, but
after all I would prefer your rose garden in June."

"But you would probably prefer your artificial-flower department the
rest of the year," said Annie, laughing.

"Why so?"

"Our roses are annuals and are only prosaic briers after their bloom."

"Imagine them hybrid perpetuals and monthlies and you have my meaning.
But your resemblance to a rose extends even to its thorns. Your words
are a little sharp sometimes."

"In the thorns the resemblance begins and ends, Mr. Gregory. I assure
you I am a veritable Scotch brier. But here we are at our destination.
I wonder if you will see many old, remembered faces."

"I shall be content in seeing yours," he replied in a low tone,
pressing her hand as he assisted her to alight.

If he could have seen the expression of her face in the darkness it
would have satisfied him that she did not receive that style of
compliment like many of the belles of his acquaintance, who would take
the small change of flattery with the smiling complacency of a public
door-keeper.

They were late. The good old pastor was absent, and one of the
brethren was reading a chapter in the Bible. Gregory took a seat where
he could see Annie plainly, and she sat with her side face toward him.

He watched her keenly, in order to see if she showed any consciousness
of his presence. The only evidence in his favor was a slight flush and
a firmness about the lips, as if her will was asserting itself. But
soon her face had the peaceful and serious expression becoming the
place and hour, and he saw that she had no thoughts for him whatever.
He was determined to distract her attention, and by restlessness, by
looking fixedly at her, sought her eye, but only secured the notice of
some young girls who thought him "badly smitten with Miss Walton."

The long chapter having been read, a hymn was given out. The gentleman
who usually led the music was also absent, and there was an ominous
pause, in which the good brother's eye wandered appealingly around the
room and at last rested hopefully on Annie. She did not fail him, but,
with heightened color and voice that trembled slightly at first,
"started the tune." It was a sweet, familiar air, and she soon had the
support of other voices. One after another they joined her in widely
varying degrees of melody, even as the example of a noble life will
gradually secure a number of more or less successful imitators.

Gregory had seen the appeal to her with an amused, half-comical look,
but her sincere and ready performance of the duty that had
unexpectedly revealed itself rapidly changed the expression of his
face to one of respect and admiration. Distinct, and yet blending with
the others, her voice seemed both to key up and hide the little
roughnesses and discords of some who perhaps had more melody in their
hearts than in their tones.

Again a divine impulse, like a flower-laden breeze sweeping into a
dark and grated vault at Greenwood, stirred Gregory's evil nature.

"Let her teach you the harmony of noble, unselfish living. Follow her
in thought, feeling, and action, as those stammering, untuned tongues
do in melody, and the blight of evil will pass from your life. Seek
not to muddy and poison this clear little rill that is watering a bit
of God's world. Grant that her goodness is not real, established, and
thoroughly tested--that it is only a pretty surface picture. Seek not
to blur that picture."

But the evil heart is like Sodom. Good angel-thoughts may come to it,
but they are treated with violence and driven out. His habit of
cynical doubt soon returned, and his purpose to show Miss Walton that
she was a weak, vain woman after all became stronger than ever.

It seemed to have come to this, that his salvation depended on, not
what Miss Walton could say or do directly in his behalf, but upon her
maintenance of a character that even a sceptical world must
acknowledge as inspired by heaven, and this, too, against a tempter of
unusual skill and tact. She might sing with resistless pathos, and
argue and plead with Paul's logic and eloquence. His nature might be
stirred for a moment as a stagnant pool is agitated by the winds of
heaven, and, like the pool, he would soon settle back into his old
apathy. But if she could be made to show weakness, to stumble and
fall, it would confirm him in his belief that goodness, if it really
existed, was accidental; that those whose lives were apparently free
from stain deserved no credit, because untempted; and that those who
fell should be pitied rather than blamed, since they were unfortunate
rather than guilty. Anything that would quiet and satisfy his
conscience in its stern arraignment of his evil life would be welcome.
The more he saw of Miss Walton the more he felt that she would be a
fair subject upon whom to test his favorite theory. Therefore, by the
time one of the brethren present had finished his homely exhortation
he was wholly bent upon carrying out his plan.

But Miss Walton sat near, as innocently oblivious of this plot against
her as Eve of the serpent's guile before the tempter and temptation
came into fatal conjunction.

What thoughts for and against each other may dwell utterly hidden and
unknown in the hearts of those so near that their hands may touch!
Conspiracies to compass the death that is remediless may lurk just
behind eyes that smile upon us. Of course Gregory desired no such
fatal result to follow his little experiment. Few who for their own
pleasure, profit, or caprice tempt others wish the evil to work on to
the bitter end. They merely want a sufficient letting down of
principle and virtue for the accomplishment of their purpose, and then
would prefer that the downward tendency should cease or be reversed.
The merchant who requires dishonorable practices of his clerk wishes
him to stop at a point which, in the world's estimation, is safe. And
those who, like Gregory, would take the bloom from woman's purity and
holiness in thought and action, that they may enjoy a questionable
flirtation, would be horrified to see that woman drop into the foul
gulf of vice. With the blind egotism of selfishness, they wish merely
to gratify their present inclinations, ignoring the consequences. They
are like children who think it would be sport to see a little cataract
falling over a Holland dike. Therefore, when the tide is in they open
a small channel, but are soon aghast to find that the deep sea is
overwhelming the land.

Gregory, as is usual with his kind, thought only of his own desires.
When he had accomplished these Miss Walton must take care of herself.
When from seeming a sweet, pure woman she had, by a little temptation,
proved to be capable of becoming a vain flirt, he would go back to
business and dismiss her from his thoughts with the grim chuckle, "She
is like the rest of us."

And thus Annie was destined to meet her mother Eve's experience; and
with the energy and promptness of evil Gregory was keenly on the alert
for anything to further his purpose.

It would seem that the satanic ally in such schemes does not permit
opportunity to be wanting long. The leader of the meeting again
selected a hymn, but of a peculiar metre. He read only two lines, and
then looked expectantly toward Annie, who could not at the moment
think of a tune that would answer; and while with knit brows she was
bending over her book, to her unbounded surprise she heard the hymn
started by a clear, mellow tenor voice. Looking up she saw Gregory
singing as gravely as a deacon. She was sufficiently a musician to
know that the air did not belong to sacred music, though she had never
heard it before.

In his watchfulness he had noted her hesitation, and glancing at the
metre saw instantly that the measure of a drinking-song he knew well
would fit the words. This fell out better than he had hoped, and with
the thought, "I will jostle her out of her dignity now," he began
singing without any embarrassment, though every eye was upon him. He
had been out in the world long enough for that.