by Rudyard Kipling It was not part of their blood, It came to them very late, With long arrears to make good, When the Saxon began to hate. They were not easily
Editor’s note: The following is extracted from History, by Bernadotte Perrin (published 1912). (Go back to previous chapter) But the Ancient History of the Greeks never emancipated itself wholly from the influence of the epic poems. The revolt against it
(Continued from Part VII) The day was perfect, she thought. The rector stood before a young couple in the royal hall. Beyond them and lower, two families looked on, hopes for the
(Continued from Part VI) Brita was sitting with the princess when a knock came and the door to their room creaked open. The king entered alone and quietly, pulling a wooden stool
(Continued from Part V) Being a princess is not so bad, Brita told herself, admiring the elegant white gloves that reached above her elbows. She was riding in a royal carriage finer
The following is extracted from The Book of Were-Wolves, by Sabine Baring-Gould (published 1865). All spelling in the original. English folk-lore is singularly barren of were-wolf stories, the reason being that wolves
(Continued from Part IV) “All these people do is eat and drink and play,” Brita said to the King as they watched the joust below. A month of touring and tournaments was
Editor’s note: The following is extracted from Hunting in Many Lands: The Book of the Boone and Crockett Club (published 1895). The little hunting I did in 1893 and 1894 was while
(Continued from Part III) “Of all the world’s inventions,” Brita said from among the bubbles, “hot water is definitely the finest.” “I agree,” Elda answered. “Now would you please get out of
Editor’s note: The following is extracted from Vanishing Roads and Other Essays, by Richard Le Gallienne (published 1915). All spelling in the original. The longevity of trees is said to be
(Continued from Part II) Brita sat, a copper-haired girl of eight, on a log near a wooded camp. She was dressed in green from head to toe, except for the brown leather
(Continued from Part I) “Have you nothing to say for yourself, young lady?” Brita looked at the king, who stood in a rage on the dais above her. His face burned as
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