Charlotte M. Yonge - "The Pigeon Pie"

Laura Lee Hope - "The Story of a Lamb on Wheels"

Francois Coppee - "A Romance of Youth, v2"

Charlotte M. Yonge - "The Pigeon Pie"

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: Harrigan

M >> Max Brand >> Harrigan




"It'll break my heart to hear her confess she loves ye, McTee--but I'll
go!"

They went to the sleepy clerk behind the desk and asked him to send up
word to Miss Malone that they wished to see her.

"Ah, Miss Malone," said the clerk, nodding, "before she left--"

"Left?" echoed the two giants in voices of thunder.

"She gave me this note to deliver to you."

And he passed them the envelope. Each of them placed a hand upon it and
stared stupidly at the other.

"Open it!" said Harrigan hoarsely.

"I'm troubled with my old failing--a weakness of the eyes," said McTee.
"Open it yourself."

Harrigan opened it at last and drew out the paper within. They stood
under a light, shoulder to shoulder, and read with difficulty, for the
hand of Harrigan which held the paper shook.

_Dear lads, dear Dan and Angus:

As soon as you left me, I went to the British consul, and from him I
learned the shortest way of cutting across country to the railroad. By
the time you read this, I am on the train and speeding north to the
States.

I have known for a long time that the only thing which keeps you from
being fast friends is the love which each of you says he has for me. So
I have decided to step from between you, for there is nothing on earth
so glorious as the deep friendship of one strong man for another.

I fear you may try to follow me, but I warn you that it would be
useless. I have taken a course of training, and I am qualified as a
nurse. The Red Cross of America will soon be sending units across the
water to care for the wounded of the Allies. I shall go with one of the
first units. You might be able to trace me to the States, but you will
never be able to trace me overseas. This is good-by.

It is hard to say it in writing. I want to take your hands and tell you
how much you mean to me. But I could not wait to do that. For your own
sakes I have to flee from you both.

Now that I have said good-by, it is easier to add another thing. I care
for both of you more than for any man I have ever known, but one of you
I love with all my soul. Even now I dare not say which, for it might
make enmity and jealousy between you, and enmity between such men as
you means only one thing--death.

I have tried to find courage to stand before you and say which of you I
love, but I cannot. At the last moment I grow weak at the thought of
the battle which would follow. My only resort is to resign him I care
for beyond all friends, and him I love beyond all other men.

I know that when I am gone, you will become fast friends, and together
you will be kings of men. And in time--for a man's life is filled with
actions which rub out all memories--you will forget that you loved me,
I know; but perhaps you will not forget that because I resigned you
both, I built a foundation of rock for your friendship.

You will be happy, you will be strong, you will be true to one another.
And for that I am glad. But to you whom I love: Oh, my dear, it is
breaking my heart to leave you!

Kate

One hand of each was on the paper as they lowered it and stared into
each other's face, with a black doubt, and a wild hope. Then of one
accord they raised the paper and read it through again.

"And to think," muttered Harrigan at last, "that I should have ruined
her happiness. I could tear my heart out, McTee!"

"Harrigan," said the big Scotchman solemnly, "it is you she means. See!
She cried over the paper while she was writing. No woman could weep for
Black McTee!"

"And no woman could write like that to Harrigan. Angus, you can keep
the knowledge that she loves you, but let me keep the letter. Ah-h,
McTee, I'll be afther keepin' it forninst me heart!"

"Let's go outside," said McTee. "There is no air in this room."

They went out into the black night, and as they walked, each kept his
hand upon the letter, so that it seemed to be a power which tied them
together.

"Angus," said Harrigan after a time, "we'll be fightin' for the letter
soon. Why should we? I know every line of it by heart."

"I know every word," answered McTee.

"I've a thought," said Harrigan. "In the ould days, whin a great man
died, they used to burn his body. An' now I'm feelin' as if somethin'
had died in me--the hope av winnin' Kate, McTee. So let's burn her
letter between us, eh?"

"Harrigan," said McTee with heartfelt emotion, "that thought is well
worthy of you!"

They knelt on the little spot. They placed the paper between them. Each
scratched a match and lighted one side of the paper; the flames rose
and met in the middle of the letter. Yet they did not watch the
progress of the fire; by the sudden flare of light they gazed steadily
into each other's face, straining their eyes as the light died away as
though each had discovered in the other something new and strange. When
they looked down, the paper was merely a dim, red glow which passed
away as quickly as a flush dies from the face, and the wind carried
away the frail ashes. Then they rose and walked shoulder to shoulder on
and into the night.