Monthly Archives: July 2016

The Grandmother’s APOLOGY.

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BY ALFRED TENNYSON — I. AND Willy, my eldest born, is gone, you say, little Anne? Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man. And Willy’s wife has written: she never was overwise, Never the … Continue reading

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NIGHT and MORNING.

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So they’ve sent you card, my Adonis, For the Countess’s ball of to-night; You fancy no fate like your own is, No future so charmingly bright. It costs half-a-crown for a Hansom To go to that beautiful ball, Though shortly … Continue reading

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Magenta

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I.    UNDER the willows; in the trampled maize; Midst up-torn vines, and shatter’d mulberry rows; In rice-fields, corn-fields, dykes by dusty ways, And cottage-crofts, where the gold gourd-flower blows,— Swathes of Death’s scythe, wielded for two long days— The dead … Continue reading

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The Song of COURTESY

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I.                                                                               … Continue reading

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THE FIRST PLAY-HOUSE.

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We must go back two hundred and eighty odd years. It is not easy to understand what London was then; but we must endeavour to get a rough notion of it into our heads, in order to be able to … Continue reading

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A Piece or Red Calico.

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MR. EDITOR: If the following true experience shall prove of any advantage to any of your readers, I shall be glad. I was going into town the other morning, when my wife handed me a little piece of red calico, … Continue reading

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OUR FIRE-SCREEN

IT was a fire-screen — that is, it was a frame for one,—and it was made of ash. My wife had worked a very pretty square of silk, with flowers and other colored objects upon it; and when it was … Continue reading

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