Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne - "Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte, V16"

S. O. Susag - "Personal Experiences of S. O. Susag"

Frances Hodgson Burnett - "In the Closed Room"

Robert Gordon Anderson - "Half Past Seven Stories"

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: An Old fashioned Girl

L >> Louisa May Alcott >> An Old fashioned Girl




" 'Young ladies, what is this unseemly noise?' "No answer from us
but a faint snore. Miss Cotton marched into the next room, put the
same question and received the same reply.

"In the third chamber lay Sally, and we trembled as the old lady
went in. Sitting up, we peeped and listened breathlessly.

" 'Sarah, I command you to tell me what this all means?' "But Sally
only sighed in her sleep, and muttered, wickedly, 'Ma, take me
home. I 'm starved at Cotton's.' " 'Mercy on me! is the child going
to have a fever?' cried the old lady, who did not observe the tell
tale nuts at her feet.

" 'So dull, so strict! O take me home!' moaned Sally, tossing her
arms and gurgling, like a naughty little gypsy.

"That last bit of acting upset the whole concern, for as she tossed
her arms she showed the big red cushion on her breast.
Near-sighted as she was, that ridiculous object could not escape
Miss Cotton, neither did the orange that rolled out from the pillow,
nor the boots appearing at the foot of the bed.

"With sudden energy the old lady plucked off the cover, and there
lay Sally with her hair dressed . la Topsy, her absurd breast-pin
and her dusty boots, among papers of candy, bits of pie and cake,
oranges and apples, and a candle upside down burning a hole in
the sheet.

"At the sound of Miss Cotton's horrified exclamation Sally woke
up, and began laughing so merrily that none of us could resist
following her example, and the rooms rang with merriment far
many minutes. I really don't know when we should have stopped if
Sally had not got choked with the nut she had in her mouth, and so
frightened us nearly out of our wits."

"What became of the things, and how were you punished?" asked
Fan, in the middle of her laughter.

"The remains of the feast went to the pig, and we were kept on
bread and water for three days."

"Did that cure you?"

"Oh, dear, no! we had half a dozen other frolics that very summer;
and although I cannot help laughing at the remembrance of this,
you must not think, child, that I approve of such conduct, or
excuse it. No, no, my dear, far from it."

"I call that a, tip-top story! Drive on, grandma, and tell one about
boys," broke in a new voice, and there was Tom astride of a chair
listening and laughing with all his might, for his book had come to
an end, and he had joined the party unobserved.

"Wait for your turn, Tommy. Now, Polly, dear, what will you
have?" said grandma, looking, so lively and happy, that it was very
evident "reminiscing" did her good.

"Let mine come last, and tell one for Tom next," said Polly,
looking round, and beckoning him nearer.

He came and sat himself cross-legged on the floor, before the
lower drawer of the cabinet, which grandma opened for him,
saying, with a benign stroke of the curly head, "There, dear, that 's
where I keep the little memorials of my brother Jack. Poor lad, he
was lost at sea, you know. Well, choose anything you like, and I 'll
try to remember a story about it."

Tom made a rapid rummage, and fished up a little broken pistol.

"There, that 's the chap for me! Wish it was n't spoilt, then we 'd
have fun popping away at the cats in the yard. Now, then,
grandma."

"I remember one of Jack's pranks, when that was used with great
effect," said grandma, after a thoughtful pause, during which Tom
teased the girls by snapping the lock of the pistol in their faces.

"Once upon a time," continued Madam, much flattered by the row
of interested faces before her, "my father went away on business,
leaving mother, aunt, and us girls to Jack's care. Very proud he
was, to be sure, of the responsibility, and the first thing he did was
to load that pistol and keep it by his bed, in our great worriment,
for we feared he 'd kill himself with it. For a week all went well;
then we were startled by the news that robbers were about. All
sorts of stories flew through the town (we were living in the
country then); some said that certain houses were marked with a
black cross, and those were always robbed; others, that there was a
boy in the gang, for windows, so small that they were considered
safe, were entered by some little rogue. At one place the thieves
had a supper, and left ham and cake in the front yard. Mrs. Jones
found Mrs. Smith's shawl in her orchard, with a hammer and an
unknown teapot near it. One man reported that some one tapped at
his window, in the night, saying, softly, 'Is anyone here?' and when
he looked out, two men were seen to run down the road.

"We lived just out of town, in a lonely place; the house was old,
with convenient little back windows, and five outside doors. Jack
was the only man about the place, and he was barely thirteen.
Mother and aunt were very timid, and the children weren't old
enough to be of any use, so Jack and I were the home-guard, and
vowed to defend the family manfully."

"Good for you! Hope the fellows came!" cried Tom, charmed with
this opening.

"One day, an ill-looking man came in and asked for food,"
continued grandma, with a mysterious nod; "and while he ate, I
saw him glance sharply about from the wooden buttons on the
back-doors, to the silver urn and tankards on the dining-room
sideboard. A strong suspicion took possession of me, and I
watched him as a cat does a mouse.

"'He came to examine the premises, I 'm sure of it, but we will be
ready for him,' I said, fiercely, as I told the family about him.

"This fancy haunted us all, and our preparations were very funny.
Mother borrowed a rattle, and kept it under her pillow. Aunt took a
big bell to bed with her; the children had little Tip, the terrier, to
sleep in their room; while Jack and I mounted guard, he with the
pistol, and I with a hatchet, for I did n't like fire-arms. Biddy, who
slept in the attic, practised getting out on the shed roof, so that she
might run away at the first alarm. Every night we arranged pit-falls
for the robbers, and all filed up to bed, bearing plate, money,
weapons, and things to barricade with, as if we lived in war times.

"We waited a week and no one came, so we began to feel rather
slighted, for other people got 'a scare,' as Tom says, and after all
our preparations we really felt a trifle disappointed that we had had
no chance to show our courage. At last a black mark was found
upon our door, and a great panic ensued, for we felt that now our
time had come.

"That night we put a tub of water at the bottom of the back-stairs,
and a pile of tin pans at the top of the front stairs, so that any
attempt to come up would produce a splash or a rattle. Bells were
hung on door handles, sticks of wood piled up in dark corners for
robbers to fall over, and the family retired, all armed and all
provided with lamps and matches.

"Jack and I left our doors open, and kept asking one another if we
did n't hear something, till he fell asleep. I was wakeful and lay
listening to the crickets till the clock struck twelve; then I got
drowsy, and was just dropping off when the sound of steps outside
woke me up staring wide awake. Creeping to the window I was in
time to see by the dim moonlight a shadow glide round the corner
and disappear. A queer little thrill went over me, but I resolved to
keep quiet till I was sure something was wrong, for I had given so
many false alarms, I did n't want Jack to laugh at me again.
Popping my head out of the door, I listened, and presently heard a
scraping sound near the shed.

" 'There they are; but I won't rouse the house till the bell rings or
the pans fall. The rogues can't go far without a clatter of some sort,
and if we could only catch one of them we should get the reward
and a deal of glory,' I said to myself, grasping my hatchet firmly.

"A door closed softly below, and a step came creeping towards the
back-stairs. Sure now of my prey, I was just about to scream 'Jack!'
when something went splash into the tub at the foot of the
back-stairs.

"In a minute every one was awake and up, for Jack fired his pistol
before he was half out of bed, and roared 'Fire!' so loud it roused
the house. Mother sprung her rattle, aunt rang her bell, Jip barked
like mad, and we all screamed, while from below came up a
regular Irish howl.

"Some one brought a lamp, and we peeped anxiously down, to see
our own stupid Biddy sitting in the tub wringing her hands and
wailing dismally.

" 'Och, murther, and it 's kilt I am! The saints be about us! how iver
did I come forninst this say iv wather, just crapin in quiet afther a
bit iv sthroll wid Mike Mahoney, me own b'y, that 's to marry me
intirely, come Saint Patrick's day nixt.' "We laughed so we could
hardly fish the poor thing up, or listen while she explained that she
had slipped out of her window for a word with Mike, and found it
fastened when she wanted to come back, so she had sat on the
roof, trying to discover the cause of this mysterious barring out, till
she was tired, when she prowled round the house till she found a
cellar window unfastened, after all our care, and got in quite
cleverly, she thought; but the tub was a new arrangement which
she knew nothing about; and when she fell into the 'say,' she was
bewildered and could only howl.

"This was not all the damage either, for aunt fainted with the
fright, mother cut her hand with a broken lamp, the children took
cold hopping about on the wet stairs, Jip barked himself sick, I
sprained my ankle, and Jack not only smashed a looking-glass with
his bullets, but spoilt his pistol by the heavy charge put in it. After
the damages were repaired and the flurry was well over, Jack
confessed that he had marked the door for fun, and shut Biddy out
as a punishment for 'gallivanting,' of which he did n't approve.
Such a rogue as that boy was!' "

"But did n't the robbers ever come?" cried Tom, enjoying the joke,
but feeling defrauded of the fight.

"Never, my dear; but we had our 'scare,' and tested our courage,
and that was a great satisfaction, of course," answered grandma,
placidly.

"Well, I think you were the bravest of the lot. I 'd like to have seen
you flourishing round there with your hatchet," added Tom,
admiringly, and the old lady looked as much pleased with the
compliment as if she had been a girl.

"I choose this," said Polly, holding up a long white kid glove,
shrunken and yellow with time, but looking as if it had a history.

"Ah, that now has a story worth telling!" cried grandma; adding,
proudly, "Treat that old glove respectfully, my children, for
Lafayette's honored hand has touched it."

"Oh, grandma, did you wear it? Did you see him? Do tell us all
about it, and that will be the best of the whole," cried Polly, who
loved history, and knew a good deal about the gallant Frenchman
and his brave life.

Grandma loved to tell this story, and always assumed her most
imposing air to do honor to her theme. Drawing herself up,
therefore, she folded her hands, and after two or three little
"hems," began with an absent look, as if her eyes beheld a
far-away time, which brightened as she gazed.

"The first visit of Lafayette was before my time, of course, but I
heard so much about it from my grandfather that I really felt as if I
'd seen it all. Our Aunt Hancock lived in the Governor's house, on
Beacon Hill, at that time." Here the old lady bridled up still more,
for she was very proud of "our aunt." "Ah, my dears, those were
the good old times!" she continued, with a sigh. "Such dinners and
tea parties, such damask table cloths and fine plate, such solid,
handsome furniture and elegant carriages; aunt's was lined with
red silk velvet, and when the coach was taken away from her at the
Governor's death, she just ripped out the lining. and we girls had
spencers made of it. Dear heart, how well I remember playing in
aunt's great garden, and chasing Jack up and down those winding
stairs; and my blessed father, in his plum-colored coat and knee
buckles, and the queue I used to tie up for him every day, handing
aunt in to dinner, looking so dignified and splendid."

Grandma seemed to forget her story for a minute, and become a
little girl again, among the playmates dead and gone so many
years. Polly motioned the others to be quiet, and no one spoke till
the old lady, with a long sigh, came back to the present, and went
on.

"Well, as I was saying, the Governor wanted to give a breakfast to
the French officers, and Madam, who was a hospitable soul, got up
a splendid one for them. But by some mistake, or accident, it was
discovered at the last minute that there was no milk.

"A great deal was needed, and very little could be bought or
borrowed, so despair fell upon the cooks and maids, and the great
breakfast would have been a failure, if Madam, with the presence
of mind of her sex, had not suddenly bethought herself of the cows
feeding on the Common.

"To be sure, they belonged to her neighbors, and there was no time
to ask leave, but it was a national affair; our allies must be fed; and
feeling sure that her patriotic friends would gladly lay their cows
on the altar of their country, Madam Hancock covered herself with
glory, by calmly issuing the command, 'Milk 'em!' "It was done, to
the great astonishment of the cows, and the entire satisfaction of
the guests, among whom was Lafayette.

"This milking feat was such a good joke, that no one seems to have
remembered much about the great man, though one of his officers,
a count, signalized himself by getting very tipsy, and going to bed
with his boots and spurs on, which caused the destruction of aunt's
best yellow damask coverlet, for the restless sleeper kicked it into
rags by morning.

"Aunt valued it very much, even in its tattered condition, and kept
it a long while, as a memorial of her distinguished guests.

"The time when I saw Lafayette was in 1825, and there were no
tipsy counts then. Uncle Hancock (a sweet man, my dears, though
some call him mean now-a-days) was dead, and aunt had married
Captain Scott.

"It was not at all the thing for her to do; however, that 's neither
here nor there. She was living in Federal Street at the time, a most
aristocratic street then, children, and we lived close by.

"Old Josiah Quincy was mayor of the city, and he sent aunt word
that the Marquis Lafayette wished to pay his respects to her.

"Of course she was delighted, and we all flew about to make ready
for him. Aunt was an old lady, but she made a grand toilet, and
was as anxious to look well as any girl."

"What did she wear?" asked Fan, with interest.

"She wore a steel-colored satin, trimmed with black lace, and on
her cap was pinned a Lafayette badge of white satin.

"I never shall forget how b-e-a-utifully she looked as she sat in
state on the front parlor sophy, right under a great portrait of her
first husband; and on either side of her sat Madam Storer and
Madam Williams, elegant to behold, in their stiff silks, rich lace,
and stately turbans. We don't see such splendid old ladies
now-a-days "

"I think we do sometimes," said Polly, slyly.

Grandma shook her head, but it pleased her very much to be
admired, for she had been a beauty in her day.

"We girls had dressed the house with flowers; old Mr. Coolidge
sent in a clothes-basket full. Joe Joy provided the badges, and aunt
got out some of the Revolutionary wine from the old Beacon Street
cellar.

"I wore my green and white palmyrine, my hair bowed high, the
beautiful leg-o'-mutton sleeves that were so becoming, and these
very gloves.

"Well, by-and-by the General, escorted by the Mayor, drove up.
Dear me, I see him now! a little old man in nankeen trousers and
vest, a long blue coat and ruffled shirt, leaning on his cane, for he
was lame, and smiling and bowing like a true Frenchman.

"As he approached, the three old ladies rose, and courtesied with
the utmost dignity. Lafayette bowed first to the Governor's picture,
then to the Governor's widow, and kissed her hand.

"That was droll; for on the back of her glove was stamped
Lafayette's likeness, and the gallant old gentleman kissed his own
face.

"Then some of the young ladies were presented, and, as if to
escape any further self-salutations, the marquis kissed the pretty
girls on the cheek.

"Yes, my dears, here is just the spot where the dear old man
saluted me. I 'm quite as proud of it now as I was then, for he was a
brave, good man, and helped us in our trouble.

"He did not stay long, but we were very merry, drinking his health,
receiving his compliments, and enjoying the honor he did us.

"Down in the street there was a crowd, of course, and when he left
they wanted to take out the horses and drag him home in triumph.
But he did n't wish it; and while that affair was being arranged, we
girls had been pelting him with the flowers which we tore from the
vases, the walls, and our own topknots, to scatter over him.

"He liked that, and laughed, and waved his hand to us, while we
ran, and pelted, and begged him to come again.

"We young folks quite lost our heads that night, and I have n't a
very clear idea of how I got home. The last thing I remember was
hanging out of the window with a flock of girls, watching the
carriage roll away, while the crowd cheered as if they were mad.

"Bless my heart, it seems as if I heard 'em now! 'Hurrah for
Lafayette and Mayor Quincy! Hurrah for Madam Hancock and the
pretty girls! Hurrah for Col. May!' 'Three cheers for Boston! Now,
then! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!' "

And here the old lady stopped, out of breath, with her cap askew,
her spectacles on the end of her nose, and her knitting much the
worse for being waved enthusiastically in the air, while she hung
over the arm of her chair, shrilly cheering an imaginary Lafayette.
The girls clapped their hands, and Tom hurrahed with all his
might, saying, when he got his breath, "Lafayette was a regular old
trump; I always liked him."

"My dear! what a disrespectful way to speak of that great man,"
said grandma, shocked at Young America's irreverence.

"Well, he was a trump, anyway, so why not call him one?" asked
Tom, feeling that the objectionable word was all that could be
desired.

"What queer gloves you wore then," interrupted Fanny, who had
been trying on the much-honored glove, and finding it a tight fit.

"Much better and cheaper than we have now," returned grandma,
ready to defend "the good old times" against every insinuation.
"You are an extravagant set now-a-days, and I really don't know
what you are coming to. By the way, I 've got somewhere two
letters written by two young ladies, one in 1517, and the other in
1868. The contrast between the two will amuse you, I think."

After a little search, grandma produced an old portfolio, and
selecting the papers, read the following letter, written by Anne
Boleyn before her marriage to Henry VIII, and now in the
possession of a celebrated antiquarian:

DEAR MARY, I have been in town almost a month, yet I cannot
say I have found anything in London extremely agreeable. We rise
so late in the morning, seldom before six o'clock, and sit up so late
at night, being scarcely in bed before ten, that I am quite sick of it;
and was it not for the abundance of fine things I am every day
getting I should be impatient of returning into the country.

My indulgent mother bought me, yesterday, at a merchant's in
Cheapside, three new shifts, that cost fourteen pence an ell, and I
am to have a pair of new stuff shoes, for my Lord of Norfolk's ball,
which will be three shillings.

The irregular life I have led since my coming to this place has
quite destroyed my appetite. You know I could manage a pound of
bacon and a tankard of good ale for my breakfast, in the country,
but in London I find it difficult to get through half the quantity,
though I must own I am generally eager enough for the dinner
hour, which is here delayed till twelve, in your polite society.

I played at hot cockles, last night, at my Lord of Leicester's. The
Lord of Surrey was there, a very elegant young man, who sung a
song of his own composition, on the "Lord of Kildare's Daughter."
It was much approved, and my brother whispered me that the fair
Geraldine, for so my Lord of Surrey calls his sweetheart, is the
finest woman of the age. I should be glad to see her, for I hear she
is good as she is beautiful.

Pray take care of the poultry during my absence. Poor things! I
always fed them myself; and if Margery has knitted me the
crimson worsted mittens, I should be glad if they were sent up the
first opportunity.

Adieu, dear Mary. I am just going to mass, and you shall speedily
have the prayers, as you have now the kindest love of your own
ANNE BOLEYN.

"Up before six, and think it late to go to bed at ten! What a
countrified thing Anne must have been. Bacon and ale for
breakfast, and dinner at twelve; how very queer to live so!" cried
Fanny. "Lord Surrey and Lord Leicester sound fine, but hot
cockles, and red mittens, and shoes for three shillings, are horrid."

"I like it," said Polly, thoughtfully, "and I 'm glad poor Anne had a
little fun before her troubles began. May I copy that letter some
time, grandma?"

"Yes, dear, and welcome. Now, here 's the other, by a modern girl
on her first visit to London. This will suit you better, Fan," and
grandma read what a friend had sent her as a pendant to Anne's
little picture of London life long ago:

MY DEAREST CONSTANCE, After three months of intense
excitement I snatch a leisure moment to tell you how much I enjoy
my first visit to London. Having been educated abroad, it really
seems like coming to a strange city. At first the smoke, dirt and
noise were very disagreeable, but I soon got used to these things,
and now find all I see perfectly charming.

We plunged at once into a whirl of gayety and I have had no time
to think of anything but pleasure. It is the height of the season, and
every hour is engaged either in going to balls, concerts, theatres,
f^tes and church, or in preparing for them. We often go to two or
three parties in an evening, and seldom get home till morning, so
of course we don't rise till noon next day. This leaves very little
time for our drives, shopping, and calls before dinner at eight, and
then the evening gayeties begin again.

At a ball at Lady Russell's last night, I saw the Prince of Wales,
and danced in the set with him. He is growing stout, and looks
dissipated. I was disappointed in him, for neither in appearance
nor conversation was he at all princely. I was introduced to a very
brilliant and delightful young gentleman from America. I was
charmed with him, and rather surprised to learn that he wrote the
poems which were so much admired last season, also that he is the
son of a rich tailor. How odd these Americans are, with their
money, and talent, and independence!

O my dear, I must not forget to tell you the great event of my first
season. I am to be presented at the next Drawing Room! Think
how absorbed I must be in preparation for this grand affair.
Mamma is resolved that I shall do her credit, and we have spent
the last two weeks driving about from milliners to mantua-makers,
from merchants to jewellers. I am to wear white satin and plumes,
pearls and roses. My dress will cost a hundred pounds or more, and
is very elegant.

My cousins and friends lavish lovely things upon me, and you will
open your unsophisticated eyes when I display my silks and laces,
trinkets and French hats, not to mention billet deux, photographs,
and other relics of a young belle's first season.

You ask if I ever think of home. I really have n't time, but I do
sometimes long a little for the quiet, the pure air and the girlish
amusements I used to enjoy so much. One gets pale, and old, and
sadly fagged out, with all this dissipation, pleasant as it is. I feel
quite blas, already.

If you could send me the rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and gay spirits I
always had at home, I 'd thank you. As you cannot do that, please
send me a bottle of June rain water, for my maid tells me it is
better than any cosmetic for the complexion, and mine is getting
ruined by late hours.

I fancy some fruit off our own trees would suit me, for I have no
appetite, and mamma is quite desol,e about me. One cannot live
on French cookery without dyspepsia, and one can get nothing
simple here, for food, like everything else, is regulated by the
fashion.

Adieu, ma chSre, I must dress for church. I only wish you could
see my new hat and go with me, for Lord Rockingham promised to
be there.

Adieu, yours eternally, FLORENCE.

"Yes, I do like that better, and I wish I had been in this girl's place,
don't you, Polly?" said Fan, as grandma took off her glasses.

"I should love to go to London, and have a good time, but I don't
think I should care about spending ever so much money, or going
to Court. Maybe I might when I got there, for I do like fun and
splendor," added honest Polly, feeling that pleasure was a very
tempting thing.

"Grandma looks tired; let 's go and play in the dwying-woom," said
Maud, who found the conversation getting beyond her depth.

"Let us all kiss and thank grandma, for amusing us so nicely,
before we go," whispered Polly. Maud and Fanny agreed, and
grandma looked so gratified by their thanks, that Tom followed
suit, merely waiting till "those girls" were out of sight, to give the
old lady a hearty hug, and a kiss on the very cheek Lafayette had
saluted.