John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1587"

Juliet James - "Palaces and Courts of the Exposition"

Mungo Park - "Travels in the Interior of Africa Volume 2"

D. P. Thompson - "The Rangers"

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: Lifted Masks

S >> Susan Glaspell >> Lifted Masks




That was why he told her. He pointed to the address on the envelope,
saying: "That carries my resignation, Gretta."

Her start and the tears which rushed to her eyes told him he was
right about her feeling. She did not seem able to say anything. Her
chin was trembling.

"I see that the time has come," he said, "when a younger man can do
more for the school than I can hope to do for it."

Still she said nothing at all, but her eyes were deepening and she
had that very steadfast, almost inspired look that had so many times
quickened him in the class-room.

She was not going to deny it! She was not going to pretend!

After the first feeling of not having got something needed he rose
to her high ground--ground she had taken it for granted he would
take.

"And will you believe it, Gretta," he said, rising to that ground
and there asking, not for the sympathy that bends down, but for a
hand in passing, "there comes a hard hour when first one feels the
time has come to step aside and be replaced by that younger man?"

She nodded. "It must be," she said, simply; "it must be very much
harder than any of us can know till we come to it."

She brought him a sense of his advantage in experience--his riches.
To be sure, there was that.

And he was oddly comforted by the honesty in her which could not
stoop to dishonest comforting. In what superficially might seem her
failure there was a very real victory for them both. And there was
nothing of coldness in her reserve! There was the fulness of
understanding, and of valuing the moments too highly for anything
there was to be said about it. There was a great spiritual dignity,
a nobility, in the way she was looking at him. It called upon the
whole of his own spiritual dignity. It was her old demand upon him,
but this time the tears through which her eyes shone were tears of
pride in fulfilment, not of sorrowing for failure.

Suddenly he felt that his life had not been spent in vain, that the
lives of all those men of his day who had fought the good fight for
intellectual honesty--spiritual dignity--had not been spent in vain
if they were leaving upon the earth even a few who were like the
girl beside them.

It turned him from himself to her. She was what counted--for she was
what remained. And he remained in just the measure that he remained
through her; counted in so far as he counted for her. It was as if
he had been facing in the wrong direction and now a kindly hand had
turned him around. It was not in looking back there he would find
himself. He was not back there to be found. Only so much of him
lived as had been able to wing itself ahead--on in the direction she
was moving.

It did not particularly surprise him that when she at last spoke it
was to voice a shade of that same feeling. "I was thinking," she
began, "of that younger man. Of what he must mean to the man who
gives way to him."

She was feeling her way as she went--groping among the many dim
things that were there. He had always liked to watch her face when
she was thinking her way step by step.

"I think you used a word wrongly a minute ago," she said, with a
smile. "You spoke of being replaced. But that isn't it. A man like
you isn't replaced; he's"--she got it after a minute and came forth
with it triumphantly--"fulfilled!"

Her face was shining as she turned to him after that. "Don't you
see? He's there waiting to take your place because you got him
ready. Why, you made that younger man! Your whole life has been a
getting ready for him. He can do his work be cause you first did
yours. Of course he can go farther than you can! Wouldn't it be a
sorry commentary on you if he couldn't?"

Her voice throbbed warmly upon that last, and during the pause the
light it had brought still played upon her face. "We were talking in
class about immortality," she went on, more slowly. "There's one
form of immortality I like to think about. It's that all those who
from the very first have given anything to the world are living in
the world to-day." There was a rush of tears to her eyes and of
affection to her voice as she finished, very low: "You'll never die.
You've deepened the consciousness of life too much for that."

They sat there as twilight drew near to night, the old man and the
young girl, silent. The laughter of boys and girls and the
good-night calls of the birds were all around them. The fragrance of
life was around them. It was one of those silences to which come
impressions, faiths, longings, not yet born as thoughts.

Something in the quality of that silence brought the rescuing sense
of its having been good to have lived and done one's part--that
sense which, from places of desolation and over ways rough and steep
and dark, can find its way to the meadows of serenity.


THE END