Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. VIII

Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. VIII

Various

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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. VIII by Various

Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Vol. VIII Chapter 1 No.1

Come here! my confidential Secretary

Of the complaints in which my days are rife,

Paper,-whereon I gar my griefs o'erflow.

Tell we, we twain, Unreasons which in life

Deal me inexorable, contrary

Destinies surd to prayer and tearful woe.

Dash we some water-drops on muchel lowe,

Fire we with outcries storm of rage so rare

That shall be strange to mortal memory.

Such misery tell we

To God and Man, and eke, in fine, to air,

Whereto so many times did I confide

My tale and vainly told as I now tell;

But e'en as error was my birthtide-lot,

That this be one of many doubt I not.

And as to hit the butt so far I fail

E'en if I sinnèd her cease they to chide:

Within mine only Refuge will I 'bide

To speak and faultless sin with free intent.

Sad he so scanty mercies must content!

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Yule Logs

Yule Logs

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It was a grand success. Every one said so; and moreover, every one who witnessed the experiment predicted that the Mermaid would revolutionize naval warfare as completely as did the world-famous Monitor. Professor Rivers, who had devoted the best years of his life to perfecting his wonderful invention, struggling bravely on through innumerable disappointments and failures, undaunted by the sneers of those who scoffed, or the significant pity of his friends, was so overcome by his signal triumph that he fled from the congratulations of those who sought to do him honour, leaving to his young assistants the responsibility of restoring the marvellous craft to her berth in the great ship-house that had witnessed her construction. These assistants were two lads, eighteen and nineteen years of age, who were not only the Professor's most promising pupils, but his firm friends and ardent admirers. The younger, Carlos West Moranza, was the only son of a Cuban sugar-planter, and an American mother who had died while he was still too young to remember her. From earliest childhood he had exhibited so great a taste for machinery that, when he was sixteen, his father had sent him to the United States to be educated as a mechanical engineer in one of the best technical schools of that country. There his dearest chum was his class-mate, Carl Baldwin, son of the famous American shipbuilder, John Baldwin, and heir to the latter's vast fortune. The elder Baldwin had founded the school in which his own son was now being educated, and placed at its head his life-long friend, Professor Alpheus Rivers, who, upon his patron's death, had also become Carl's sole guardian. In appearance and disposition young Baldwin was the exact opposite of Carlos Moranza, and it was this as well as the similarity of their names that had first attracted the lads to each other. While the young Cuban was a handsome fellow, slight of figure, with a clear olive complexion, impulsive and rash almost to recklessness, the other was a typical Anglo-Saxon American, big, fair, and blue-eyed, rugged in feature, and slow to act, but clinging with bulldog tenacity to any idea or plan that met with his favour. He invariably addressed his chum as "West," while the latter generally called him "Carol."

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