text:
Page:Adam's reports on vernacular education in Bengal and Behar, submitted to Government in 1835, 1836 and 1838.djvu/265

Rh The following are the average ages of the scholars at the three periods formerly mentioned :—

The following works, in addition to some mentioned under the preceding heads, are read in the schools of this district :—

In Persian, Tis Takhti, a spelling-book; Farsi-nameh or Sirab Dhoka, a vocabulary; Insha-i-Herkern, forms of correspondence; Nal Daman, translation from Sanscrit of a love-story; the poems of Urfi, of ', of Wahshati, of Ghani, of Badr, and of Khakani, the last including both the Tahfut-ul-Irakin and Kasaid-i-Khakani; Waqaia Nyamat Khan Ali, an account of the campaigns of ; Hadikat-ul-Balaghat, a grammar of rhetoric; ', national poem; and Kuliyat-i-Khosro, the works of.

In Arabic, Saraf Mir and Hidayat-us-Sarf on the etymology of the Arabic; Miat Amil, Jummul, Tatamma, Hidayat-un-Nahv, Misba, Zawa, Kafia, and Sharh-i-Mulla on syntax, Zawa being a commentary on Misba, and Shar-i-Mulla on Kafia; Mizan-i-Mantih, Tahzib, Mir Zahid, Kutbi, Mir, and Mulla Jalal on logic, Kutbi and Mulla Jalal being commentaries on Mir Zahid, and Mir a glossary to Kutbi; Sharh-i-Waqaia, on the circumstantials of Islam, as the ceremonies of religion and the law of inheritance; Nurulanwar, on the fundamentals of Islam, as the unity of God and the mission of Mahomed; Sirajiya, compendium of Mahomedan law; Hidaya, on the law of inheritance; Miscat-ul-Misabih, on Mahomedan observances; Shams-i-Bazigha and Sadra, treatises on natural philosophy; Sharh-i-Chagimani, a treatise on astronomy according to the Ptolemaic system; and Tauji, Talbi, and Faragh, treatises on metaphysics.

This district contains 291 schools, of which 279 are Persian and 12 Arabic.

One town contains ninteen, another eleven, a third seven, a fourth six, and a fifth five schools. Five villages contain three each; twenty-four, two each; and a hundred and eighty, one each.

The number of teachers is the same as the number of schools, and their average age is 34.2 years.

One of the Persian teachers is a Hindu of the writer-caste, and all the other teachers, both Persian and Arabic, are Musalmans.


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Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/10

Rh And this child lived here! I shuddered, even though the heat was flickering in waves across the distant veldt.

Her steps became slower, as we approached, and she seemed to be laboring under a clutching fear. I remember that the few cheerful and rather idiotic remarks I made fell flat, and truly I was in no mood for jesting.

As we neared the house I could see half a dozen black slaves working about the kraal, but I could see no sign of life within the house. It was fearfully hot, and far, far to the east I thought I could make out the distant line of the sea, but I knew it was a mirage.

, I met Dr. Denham. We had entered the coolness of the hallway, and as I stood wondering what fashion of man it was who had furnished this dreary place so well, I saw a smiling face peering at us from beyond the draperies.

“Mr. Scott, I presume?”

A soft voice, and it fitted the man. In the semi-darkness which was the nearest approach to comfort in sweltering British East Africa, I saw Irene’s father. A man of fifty, perhaps, smooth-shaven and neatly dressed in white. The mouth under his rather hooked nose was curved into a smile, and yet, somehow, I felt chilled. No smile of welcome that! Not that there was anything alarming about the doctor’s appearance, for he was nearly as I had pictured him, with his scholarly spectacles and abstracted manner. A naturalist and scientist, he looked his part. I bowed.

“I am very glad to know you, Professor Denham,” I said, and extended my hand.

That handclasp was like ice ! Denham’s skin was repulsively cold and moist, like that of a bloated leech. I shuddered, and looked at the man closely.

The eyes! The heavy lenses of his glasses failed to utterly conceal the serpentine power of those greenish eyes. They were at once the eyes of a hypnotist and snake charmer. Though the professor was smiling with his thin lips, the eyes remained icy and the skin across his lofty brows was wrinkled into a frown. I remember that he made a few commonplace remarks and invited me inside. Dinner, he said, would soon be served. He was happy to have an Englishman for his guest. Yes, it was lonely here, but he was fond of loneliness. All the time he was talking I could not keep my eyes from his face. There was some mystery here—some strange secret in this man’s life. And Irene knew of it, for I remembered that little slip she had made while we were crossing the sands. She was worried now, and she was watching her father with mingled fear and apprehension, if I read aright.

At dinner, which was served by a good-looking black, the professor talked of many things. Did I like the country? When did I expect to return to Cairo and Port Said? He asked many questions, and for the first time since I met him I felt at ease. Perhaps I had been mistaken, after all. First impressions do not always furnish one with a character guide. I warmed up, and we talked until late afternoon, over our wine. I was just about to come to the point, and tell him the real reason for my journey there, when he asked me to look at his specimens.

“Something that you’ll find interesting, Mr. Scott, I’m sure,” he smiled. “I doubt if you’ve ever seen anything like them. It has taken years for me to perfect my plans, and it is only recently that I have had any success. Do you know anything of bacteriology?"

“Very little,” I confessed. “From what your daughter told me I thought your experiments were confined to insects. I did not know that

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


text: Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/When Rosie was faithfu'


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/11

, too, was a hobby of yours, doctor.”

He eyed me sharply.

“It’s more than a hobby,” he said, "as you will soon see. As for insects, well, you will see my insects—later.”

I felt much like telling him that he need not go to that trouble. Creeping things had always horrified me, and I had seen quite enough of them since I had been working in Africa. However, it was my plan to keep him in a good humor until we could reach an understanding, so I followed him into a distant portion of the great house.

“As far as bacteria are concerned,” I told him, “I haven’t even as much as peeped into a microscope.”

Professor Denham laughed.

“Microscope!” he leered. “You won’t need a magnifying glass to see my collection!”

Was the man mad? I felt a chill creep over me.

reached a sort of laboratory, and the professor withdrew a cloth from a glass case. I looked over his shoulder, then, and received one of the shocks of my life. What were these horribly squirming things? Not insects, for never in my dreams had I pictured things like these ! They were writhing like maggots in a substance that appeared to be a sticky gelatin. Some of them resembled scorpions, but most of them were rod-shaped things the size of my little finger. They were moving, moving—never still.

“What—what are they?” I stammered in an awed voice.

“Bacilli,” chuckled the doctor.

“You mean germs—of disease?” I asked, horrified. “Exactly! What do you think of my work? I have multiplied them a million times, in size. Some of those organisms literally breathe death. It has taken me twenty years to find the secret, and do you know what it means? I am lord of the world!”

It was devilish, and I longed to get out of the room. This man was mad, surely, yet here was the hideous proof before me.

“There they are,” went on the scientist, with a horrible smile. “There they are till I am ready to use them, safe in the glass case and in a culture medium of agar agar."

I wiped the cold sweat from my face, and told him that I had seen quite enough and was ready to leave.

“Not until you have seen the most interesting specimens in my exhibit of insect life,” smiled the professor. “I wouldn’t have you miss that, for worlds."

I wanted to tell him that I wouldn’t see another sight like those writhing things in his laboratory for worlds, either, but I followed him from the room and into a corridor. A huge black was waiting for us there.

“Well, Sahem?” asked the professor, in a harsh metallic voice.

The black giant showed his teeth in a look of anxiety.

“The slaves, master,” he muttered. “They threaten to fly. They are afraid, and even the cattle whip cannot make them stay longer. Some of them will talk, unless—”

The doctor whipped a revolver from his blouse and handed it to the great negro.

“Tell them that I will have them thrown into the great pit,” he snarled, “if they breathe a word! Kill them, Sahem, if they do not obey; and as for yourself, if you make one slip, the black pit will yawn for your carcass also!”

The slave’s face twitched with fear, and it was nearly livid when he bowed to the ground and backed out of the dank passage on his hands and knees. Before I had time to recover from my astonishment a terrible sound echoed at my feet. It was an agonized bellow, ending in a gurgling wail, and it seemed to come from a cavern under the house. The hair tightened on my scalp at that fearful sound—the death


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/12

Rh sound of some animal in fear and pain. For a moment I heard it and then it died suddenly away into silence.

“My God!” I whispered, “what was that?”

“I fancy,” smiled the professor, cheerfully, “that it was an ox.”

Kali’s weird tale flashed through my head. Perhaps the talkative black man had not lied so much, after all. There was a deeper mystery here than I had at first imagined, and for the moment my curiosity was stronger than my dread. While I followed the bobbing form of the scientist up the passage, I turned over in my mind all I had seen and heard. Again I seemed to see those horrible squirming things in the glass case, and once more I seemed to hear that awful wail. An ox! How long would this distorted nightmare last?

“Now, if you’ll be so good,” murmured the professor, “we will look over my collection of insects."

reached a trap-door and was tugging at the rope that raised it. It suddenly yawned open and I saw the first steps of a staircase leading somewhere down into the dark.

“We’ll just leave the door open, so we can see,” said the scientist, and he led the way cautiously down the wooden steps. With some misgiving I followed, keeping close to his back. The death cry of the ox still rang in my ears and I determined not to lose sight of my guide. Three steps, then four, then five. At that moment I heard steps on the passage above, and a second later saw Irene’s white face framed in the square opening at my head.

"Oh, Scott," she whispered. "Come back—come back!”

Even as the words left her lips I saw a great black hand placed over her mouth, and caught a glimpse of the giant negro, his face distorted by a scowl of rage and fury. I leaped up the steps, and as I did so, down came the trap with a bang and I found myself scuffling in the dark with the professor.

I fought furiously, and was overpowering the wiry little fiend, when I felt myself hanging over the edge of a black void. Something seemed to whirl me closer and then I fell, with the doctor’s insane laugh ringing in my ears.

Something strangly yielding broke my fall, something that felt like a suspended mass of silken rope. For a moment I was held there, and as the trap-door was opened above me, I saw the face of the professor looking down at me from above. So this was the pit! I struggled, and tried to wrench myself free from the tangling bands that bound me, for Irene’s suppressed cry still echoed in my brain. In vain I tried to tear myself loose, and then, as my eyes grew accustomed to the faint light, I ceased. The silken strands that grasped my arms and legs were as large around as my thumb, and held me like so much steel. The professor was leaning over the edge of the pit. He was speaking, and his voice was quivering with rage.

“Fool! Miserable fool!” he mocked. "So you sought to steal my daughter, did you? And she the future princess of the world! I know your kind, and now I can watch you die. Soon you will see my collection of insects!”

And then in the distant corner I could see a huge pair of phosphorescent eyes staring at me through the gloom—then another pair and another! They seemed to appear as if by magic from some dark recess within the pit. Then I saw what covered the floor of the place! Bones! Bones of cattle and of sheep! And in the maze of ropy threads about me hung the carcass of a great ox! I was being held in nothing less than the web of a monstrous spider!


text:
The Harper of Mull

 * "When Rosie was faithfu'" in Cream of Tannahill's Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
 * "The Harper of Mull" in The Seraphim; a Selection of the Most Popular Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
 * "The Harper of Mull" in The Sentimental Songster (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
 * "The Harper of Mull" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw

title: The Harper of Mull


text:
Page:Hans Brinker, Or, The Silver Skates- A Story of Life in Holland (IA hansbrinkerorsi00dodggoog).pdf/51

 "Aye, child," almost whispered his mother, "such things have been."

By this time Hans had nearly forgotten his proposed errand to Amsterdam. His mother had seldom spoken Bo familiarly with him. He felt himself now to be not only her son, but her friend, her adviser.

"You are right, mother. We must never give up the watch, For the father's sake, we will guard it always. The money, though, may come to light when we least expect it."

"Never!" cried Dame Brinker, taking the last stitch from her needle with a jerk, and laying the unfinished knitting heavily upon her lap. "There is no chance! One thousand guilders! and all gone in a day! One thousand guilders—Oh! what ever did become of them? If they went in an evil way, the thief would have confessed by this on his dying bed—he would not dare to die with such guilt on his soul!"

"He may not be dead yet," said Hans, soothingly, "any day we may hear of him."

"Ah, child," she said in a changed tone, "what thief would ever have come here? It was always neat and clean, thank God! but not fine; for the father and I saved and saved that we might have something laid by. 'Little and often soon fills the pouch.' We found it so in truth; besides, the father had a goodly sum, already, for service done to the Heernócht lands, at the time of the great inundation. Every week we had a guilder left over, sometimes more; for the father worked extra hours, and could get high pay for his labor. Every Saturday night we put something by, except the time when you had the fever, Hans, and when Gretel came.


text:
Page:Hans Brinker, Or, The Silver Skates- A Story of Life in Holland (IA hansbrinkerorsi00dodggoog).pdf/52

 At last the pouch grew so full that I mended an old stocking and commenced again. Now that I look back, it seems that the money was up to the heel in a few sunny weeks. There was great pay in those days if a man was quick at engineer work. The stocking went on filling with copper and silver—aye, and gold. You may well open your eyes, Gretel. I used to laugh and tell the father it was not for poverty I wore my old gown;—and the stocking went on filling—so full that sometimes when I woke at night, I'd get up, soft and quiet, and go feel it in the moonlight. Then, on my knees, I would thank our Lord that my little ones could in time get good learning, and that the father might rest from labor in his old age. Sometimes, at supper, the father and I would talk about a new chimney and a good winter-room for the cow; but my man forsooth had finer plans even than that. 'A big sail,' says he, 'catches the wind—we can do what we will soon,' and then we would sing together as I washed my dishes. Ah, a smooth sea makes an easy rudder,'—not a thing vexed me from morning till night. Every week the father would take out the stocking, and drop in the money and laugh and kiss me as we tied it up together.Up with you, Hans! there you sit gaping, and the day a-wasting!" added Dame Brinker tartly, blushing to find that she had been speaking too freely to her boy, "it's high time you were on your way."

Hans had seated himself and was looking earnestly into her face. He arose, and, in almost a whisper, asked:

"Have you ever tried, mother?"

She understood him.


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/13

348, and as an echo to the scream I heard the throaty laugh of the demented man in the gallery. Insects! God! Great bloated spiders, foul and gigantic, were watching me from their awful lairs! Again I struggled to wrench myself away, but I fell exhausted. Then I saw the hideous monsters begin slowly to advance, and I felt the web tremble as if something of great weight was gliding upon it.

Above me and to the right was one of the ghastly spiders. I saw its multiple eyes watching me as it paused.Fangs, shining like polished ebony, protruded beneath those terrible eyes, and when I saw the thing perched on the great web ready to pounce upon me, I cried out in horror. The web shook again, and I closed my eyes and waited for the dreadful impact. Even now, gentlemen, the sight of a fly buzzing his wings in a spider’s web makes me sick and weak. Why I did not faint then, I don’t know. Perhaps I was too terror-stricken.

I believe the monster would have leaped at that instant had it not been for a cry on the other wall of the pit. At the sound I began to hope again. It was Irene.

She was descending by a ladder, under a large trap on the other side, doubtless the one through which the ox had been cast. In her hand was an ax.

“Leave me!” I shouted, sick with fear for her safety. “You cannot save me! Back! Back!” But she came, and I saw the terrible thing above me turn on its great legs, and watch her. At that second I heard a yell of fury from the professor. He was descending a rope ladder on the other side of the pit, and was foaming with rage. The great spider had faced me again, and I could feel its legs rasp against the web that held me. I saw that the monster was covered with hair, like a huge bear, though no bear was ever so disgustingly sickening as this dreadful thing. I felt like a helpless fish about to be seized by a bloated octopus. Yet once again it hesitated, as if not knowing whether to turn on Irene or the professor.

Irene reached me first, and her ax whistled through the air at my feet as she cut me loose from the tenacious web. As she did so the hideous monster leaped at her! Like a steel trap and with terrible ferocity, the spider sprang, only to meet Irene’s ax.

The keen edge of the tool sank into its horrible flesh. I wrenched the weapon from Irene’s hand and finished the awful thing—saw it writhe out its death struggle, entangled by its own web. I struck again and again, and then threw aside the ax with a feeling of nausea and disgust. Irene clung to me and sobbed.

“Quick!” I cried, as I tore my eyes away from the throes of the monster I had killed. “Your father—look!” The unfortunate professor was pinned under the dreadful body of another spider. It had sprung upon him while I was occupied with my own troubles. Seizing the ax. I dashed toward him, taking care to avoid the treacherous web. I struck at the insect of hell with all my strength, and i turned upon me savagely. I saw those awful fangs poised above me as I struck again upward with the ax. My blow landed squarely, but it was too late to avoid the knifelike poison tubes. Something swept into my left hand like a razor, just as the dying and distended body of the spider bore me to the ground. I felt a fetid, cold breath on my neck and something flabby and soft seemed to encircle my chest. For a moment I lost consciousness.

The next thing I remembered was the sense of a great weight being removed from my body. I groaned, and sat upright. Irene helped me to my feet, and she was calm, though the dead body of the professor lay not

(Continued on page 477)


title: Page:Tristram.djvu/30


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/91

91 Joe Hackett, Ben Parker, Sandra Parker, Jessica Watkins, and Donovan Crowl have all been charged by the Department of Justice for crimes committed at the Capitol on January 6th? Were you aware of that?

I'm not aware of that.

So that's 13 folks on this list that was sent to you by Mr. Martin. So you're saying here today that you did not hear the Oath Keepers throughout the day on January 6th discussing any plans for the Capitol on January 6th?

I had very little interaction with the Oath Keepers on all of January 6th 9 because, as the two were with me, I believe, the two came with me to the Ellipse, they weren't sitting with me. I was in the front row for all of the speeches.

And they didn't—I don't believe that they went with me when Alex Jones and I were walking with his security, which was why I was in his security bubble.

And I don't recognize any of the Oath Keepers in pictures that I've seen in preparing for my testimony in shots of us. And when I got to the Capitol, not only did I not see them there, they weren't at Lot 8.

Right. So I guess that didn't answer the question. So you don't recall hearing Oath Keepers talking about their plans for the Capitol—

I didn't have an opportunity to hear any Oath Keepers talking about anything that, you know, that would have lasted more than from, based off my recollection, from the hotel to the Ellipse.

So you're providing the color without, kind of like what said earlier, you're providing the color without answering the question.

No, I'm answering the question.

Is it yes or no? Do you recall—

I do not recall.


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/128

 GEORGE BURROUGHS, MARTYR

No.4 by Seabury Quinn

SERVANTS OF SATAN

Author of “The Phantom Farmhouse,” “Out of the Long Ago” etc.

of his terror tales, Poe tells how the inmates of a lunatic asylum overcame their keepers, locked them in the cells, and proceeded to administer the affairs of the institution according to the dictates of their own diseased minds. Something like this situation, magnified many times, prevailed in the village of Salem, Massachusetts, in the summer and autumn of 1692.

In the spring, a number of young women and girls, mostly members of respected and influential families, began acting in a way which, would have led to an inquiry concerning their sanity half a century later, but which induced the authorities of that day to declare them the victims of witchcraft.

Encouraged by the Reverend Samuel Parris, pastor of Salem Village Church, and by the magistrates of the district, these “afflicted children” accused two poor, friendless old women, then a prosperous farmer and his wife, next a universally respected and revered old lady, of the diabolical crime of witchcraft. And in every instance, the accused suffered death.

Absolute power was lodged in the hands of this group of hysterical girls by the credulous public officials. No juvenile despot of antiquity—not even the Queen in Alice in Wonderland, with her customary order, “Off with his head!”—ever exercised greater authority over the lives and liberties of a community than this company of young women, the oldest of whom was twenty years of age.

Those first accused were residents of Salem and its environs, people whom the “afflicted” saw daily. In March, 1692, however, came the first “long distance” accusations when the Reverend George Burroughs, residing in Wells, in the Province of Maine, was “cried out upon” by the afflicted children.

a man of more than ordinary physique and much more than ordinary character. Short of stature, he was abnormally strong, and combined with great physical strength a nature of unusual sweetness and charity. Prior to the Reverend Samuel Parris’ accession to the Salem pastorate, Burroughs occupied the pulpit, but, unlike most Rh


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/92

92. Thank you.

Do you have any follow-up,

 * BY :

Actually, I just—I'm a little—I'm confused. Because when I'm looking at this email, if I understood—and is far more familiar with this, so forgive me—but Stephen Brown or Steve Brown, excuse me—was a media agency event planner that Stop the Steal hired, correct?

I hired him.

You hired him. Okay.

And Nathan Martin was somebody that worked for you, correct?

He worked with me, half volunteer. And then when I could compensate him for his travel services or that company, then I—

Mr. He worked at your direction?

Mr. Mostly.

Mr. . Okay.

 * BY :

And so I'm looking at an email from Steve Brown, somebody that you hired, to you and Nathan Martin, saying: "This is the list of personal security detail"—and if you don't know what PSD is, that's usually what it means

Oh, okay.

—"we have working with us and their names/nicknames from Signal." And you are completely unaware of this, despite that it's from the person that you hired, addressed to the person that you direct.

And I'm just trying to figure out, is it your position that, despite the fact that this is who you hired and this is who you direct, you had no idea that any of this was happening


text: Tristram (Robinson)

title: Tristram (Robinson)


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/93

93 and you never read this email?

What is "any of this"?

The email, like the arrangement of the personal security detail, you had no idea that Nathan was getting Oath Keepers, you had no idea that he sent this to you?

I'm confused, because these are two individuals that you either hired or directed, and I just want to make sure that what you're saying is, "I've never seen this email. I had no idea that they were doing this."

There's like three or four questions stacked in there. So let me in a narrative form try to summarize what I believe I've told this committee.

I do not recall seeing this email until today. I still believe that I probably have possession of this email and did not know that I did. And it's probably marked unread, and I gave the context of the date and the time and what I would have been doing.

The second thing I'd like to observe is I trust Stephen Brown and Nathan Martin mostly at my direction. You know, I don't know if we want to play around with language or whatever. I'm so unfamiliar with this email I didn't know what PSD means until you told me. And I appreciate that,.

What I will say is I'm unfamiliar with this list. This is my best recollection first time seeing this list. So when read out the list faster than I could put dots near the name of who was arrested, that's how new this information is for me.

And the question I have is, are the two that guarded me that were not with me until—were no longer with me after 10 a.m., did they get arrested?

And what I want to make sure is that you're not getting wrapped up. Because what we're not trying to do is trick you. We have an email from people to people. We're not trying to trick you about what the email says or doesn't say.

What we're trying to get from you sitting here today is, do you remember the


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/129

464 clergymen of his day, he dwelt more upon the love of God than upon His awful wrath, and the iron-souled members of Salem congregation released him in favor of a preacher of sterner doctrine. Incidentally, they allowed him to depart with a considerable portion of his salary unpaid.

Evil fortune seemed to dog Mr. Burroughs’ steps. While he was in Salem his wife died; he remarried shortly after taking up his work in another parish, and his second mate also died. Discouraged, all but despairing, he quit the colony of Massachusetts to take up missionary work in Maine. On April 10, 1692, one John Partridge, a marshal of the latter province, arrested him on a warrant charging witchcraft, trafficking with the Evil One, and sundry other diabolical crimes. May 4, he was returned to Salem Village to answer the accusation.

The Reverend Samuel Parris, who acted as clerk of court and assistant prosecutor in this case, as well as others, leaves us this quaint notation of Mr. Burroughs’ examination:

At his entry into the courtroom many (if not all of the bewitched) were grievously tortured. Susan Sheldon testified that Burroughs his two wives appeared in their winding sheets and said that man had killed them. He was bid to look upon Susan Sheldon. He looked back and knocked down all (or most of the afflicted who stood behind him.

Mercy Lewis’ deposition going to be read and he looked at her and she fell into a dreadful and tedious fit.

The magistrates, as was usual in these cases, attempted to bully the accused into an admission of guilt, asking him again and again if it were not a fact that his house in Maine was haunted by the ghosts of his two murdered wives. The officials appear to have taken it for granted that he had murdered his wives, for had not their shades appeared to the “afflicted” children? And had not these very children sworn away the lives of half a dozen other persons?

Mr. Parris notes that the accused clergyman stoutly denied his house was haunted by ghosts, either of his wives or others, but adds with an air of triumph that he admitted “there were toads in his garden"!

Among other proofs that George Burroughs was a servant of Satan the following facts were testified to: he had been seen to lift a barrel of molasses in his arms and carry it; he had been seen to carry a barrel of cider in his arms; he had been seen to pick up a musket by the muzzle and hold it out at arm’s length.

When he explained that God had been pleased to endow him with more than usual strength, the “afflicted children” were one and all “grievously vexed”, falling in fits upon the courtroom floor and screaming and crying till the proceedings had to be halted.

No witchcraft trial was complete without testimony from that remarkable twelve-year-old child, Ann Putnam. It was on her testimony that Sarah Good and Sarah Osburn were condemned to death; Giles Corey, of Salem Farms, was arrested on her accusation, so was his wife, Martha Corey. Rebecca Nurse, loved and respected by nearly every dweller in Salem, received sentence of death by hanging largely on Ann’s testimony. Whenever other witnesses were wanting to bear conclusive proof against a suspected witch, Ann Putnam could be depended on to furnish the necessary testimony. Consequently, we find this child being duly sworn upon the Holy Scriptures to tell “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth” and testifying that Burroughs had appeared to her one night and told her he had three wives and had “butchered the first two to death.”


text: Tristram (Robinson)/Canto 1

title: Tristram (Robinson)/Canto 1


text: Tristram (Robinson)/Canto 2

title: Tristram (Robinson)/Canto 2


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/94

94 facts and circumstances surrounding the three of you via this email arranging the Oath Keepers to serve as the personal security detail? And if you want to answer it in narrative form, that's fine. I'm really not trying to trick you.

Mr. Kamenar. I think he already answered that he doesn't recall this email. So I don't know what more—

. But I'm not asking him if he recalls the email.

The Witness. Why were you referencing it?

. Well, because sometimes that triggers people's recollection—

The Witness. It doesn't.

. —because it was the—

The Witness. Not to me.

. And that's fine.

Sitting here today—forget the email—do you remember any conversations with Nathan, any conversations with Stephen, about hiring the Oath Keepers to be a personal security detail on January 5th or January 6th?

The Witness. I either made the decision or authorized the decision for Oath Keepers, for two to be with me and my party, and then a gaggle.

And I do not remember. I mean, this is a big list. Okay? I don't know who came up with this amount of people. It could have been me. It could have been Stephen. It could have been Nathan. It could have been Stewart. It could have been the man on the Moon. Okay?

But let me say this. Their job, we can call them security or PSD, I've never called anyone PSD. You won't find that—

 * BY

Can I stop you right there?


title: Page:Tristram.djvu/40


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/95

95 They are perimeter people. They are there just because we can't have a rope line on the Capitol stage. We wanted to cooperate with the U.S. Capitol Police.

You keep saying you never used PSD. Turn to exhibit 22 for me and go to the second page, please, because on that you literally text, "Means I have 2 PSD guys." The second page on the back. You literally say it. Yet you're sitting here, testifying here today saying you've never used the term PSD.

I don't recall.

So help me understand that.

Yeah,. I'll help you understand that.

In all of the evidence that we've reviewed today, I don't recall using PSD. This is on the back of a page that we all reviewed together in which, you know, you're saying that Stephen used PSD first and I responded back with his language.

That's fair.

I'm sorry.

I want to go back to the email in exhibit 12 that was just talking to you about. You said it's probably in your inbox unread.

Which brings me to the point of, how did you search for responsive documents? I'm assuming you searched right?

I consulted with my attorneys on providing responsive documents.

And I'm assuming you searched for emails of Nathan Martin since he was working at your direction on January 4th, right?

I worked with my attorneys on providing responsive documents. And we even in a correspondence tried to provide some of the terms that we looked for and asked the committee to specify any particular people that they were drilling down on so that we could do a more expansive search.


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 Next to Mr. Skionar, sits Mr. Chainmail, a good-looking young gentleman, as you see, with very antiquated tastes. He is fond of old poetry, and is something of a poet himself. He is deep in monkish literature, and holds that the best state of society was that of the twelfth century, when nothing was going forward but fighting, feasting, and praying, which he says are the three great purposes for which man was made. He laments bitterly over the inventions of gunpowder, steam, and gas, which he says have ruined the world. He lives within two or three miles, and has a large hall, adorned with rusty pikes, shields, helmets, swords, and tattered banners, and furnished with yew-tree chairs, and two long old worm-eaten oak tables, where he dines with all his household, after the fashion of his favorite age.


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 He wants us all to dine with him, and I believe we shall go.

That will be something new at any rate.

Next to him is Mr. Toogood, the co-operationist, who will have neither fighting nor praying; but wants to parcel out the world into squares like a chess-board, with a community on each, raising everything for one another, with a great steam-engine to serve them in common for tailor and hosier, kitchen and cook.

He is the strangest of the set, so far.

This brings us to the bottom of the table, where sits my humble servant, Mr. Crotchet the younger. I ought not to describe him.


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/96

96 And I have to assume that it would be just the most logical search term for you to go to Mr. Steve Brown, who was getting your permits for you, that you should have found an email from January 4th, correct?

No. Incorrect. What I wouldn't find, because the subject line doesn't say "Stop the Steal" or "January 6th" or "Lot 8 event." To my knowledge, that doesn't say this in this email. Again, I'm being asked questions about something that I don't recall reading and haven't read.

That's fine.

But what I'm saying is those are terms that we would have used to come up with something like this. And so I didn't grab all Stephen Brown emails if they weren't—that they didn't fit into House Resolution 503.

So you didn't search Stephen Brown emails after January 1st and at January 6th, like between that date range? You didn't search for those Stephen Brown emails?

I think we looked—we tried to look for—we produced thousands of records, we produced thousands of records, represented by hundreds of pages. There's five volumes of binders here on the table. And we've—I've literally worked on this full time.

And so we've been as responsive as we can. If you said, "This is a subject line that we want you to authenticate ahead of this meeting," I would have done that.

That's not my responsibility. But did you not search—I mean, the subject line literally says, "6th Draft Names."

Yes. "6th" is not a term I would have looked for by itself.

. Could we ask that perhaps maybe we have a conversation afterwards in terms of the thoroughness of the terms, given this line of conversation, that if the 6th wasn't included in the search emails that may be something that we need to discuss?


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/130

Rh Subsequently, she swore, the shade of Mr. Burroughs suddenly appeared in her bedroom at dead of night, bringing along the ghosts of his two deceased wives as corroborative witnesses. They had turned their faces toward him and "looked very red and angry,” telling him he had been a very cruel man to them and that “they should be clothed with white robes in heaven when he should be cast into hell.” How typical this statement is of an imaginative child, fed from earliest infancy on ghost tales and the flint-hard doctrine of Knox and Calvin!

the briefest survey of the Burroughs case discloses the keenest competition among the juvenile witnesses as to who could tell the most outrageously fanciful tale. Take, for example, this statement of Mercy Lewis, as recorded by the Reverend Mr. Parris: “On the night of May 9 Burroughs carried me up to a high mountain and showed me all the kingdoms of the earth and told me he would give them all to me if I would write in his book, and if I would not he would throw me down and break my neck. I told him I would not write in his book if he threw me down on a hundred pitchforks."

Leaving out of consideration the fact that there is no “high mountain” near Salem, the modern reader may be puzzled to know how Mr. Burroughs, who was then lodged under double lock in Salem jail, could get out to convey the girl to the mountain top, how he could manage to disclose “all the kingdoms of the earth” to her from the eminence, and especially how he, a poor, obscure Colonial preacher, with most of his pitifully small salary still owed to him by his former congregation, could deliver her so much wealth. Also, it may be wondered why he did not attempt to make good his threat to break her neck when his munificent offer was refused.

But these questions seem not to have worried the court, for the child’s preposterous story was received with all due gravity and made a part of the judicial record.

The book referred to by the Lewis girl was, of course, the devil’s black book. In it were inscribed the Names of all those who acknowledged themselves Satan’s servants. By this acknowledgment they agreed to give the fiend their souls after death, and in return were granted certain supernatural powers which usually manifested themselves as ability to make neighbors’ stock sicken and die, cream refuse to churn into butter and hens fail to lay their customary number of eggs. A moment’s reflection, it would seem, should have warned the person intending to sign away his soul that the devil was getting decidedly the best of the bargain.

One other statement which sheds an interesting light on the public mind in 1692 appears in the records of this case. It is that of Abigail Williams, niece of the Reverend Samuel Parris and member of his household. It was not made in court, nor was it sworn to, yet it was duly received and preserved as a part of the court’s record.

Some time before Mr. Burroughs was brought back to Salem to stand trial, while he was still a hundred miles or so away in Maine, Abigail met Benjamin Hutchinson in the street and suddenly declared she saw Burroughs.

“Where?” demanded Hutchinson, for, naturally, he saw no one.

“There,” replied the child, pointing excitedly to a rut in the road.

Hutchinson was carrying a pitchfork over his shoulder, and, to pacify her, he flung the implement at the spot where she declared the clergyman stood. Thereupon (as was characteristic of the “afflicted children”)


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 I entreat you do.

Well, I really have very little to say in his favor.

I do not wish to hear any thing in his favor; and I rejoice to hear you say so, because—

Do not flatter yourself. If I take him, it will be to please my father, and to have a town and country-house, and plenty of servants, and a carriage and an opera-box, and make some of my acquaintance who have married for love, or for rank, or for any thing but money, die for envy of my jewels. You do not think I would take him for himself. Why he is very smooth and spruce, as far as his dress goes; but as to his face, he looks as


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 if he had tumbled headlong into a volcano, and been thrown up again among the cinders.

I cannot believe, that, speaking thus of him, you mean to take him at all.

Oh! I am out of my teens. I have been very much in love; but now I am come to years of discretion, and must think, like other people, of settling myself advantageously. He was in love with a banker's daughter, and cast her off on her father's bankruptcy, and the poor girl has gone to hide herself in some wild place.

She must have a strange taste, if she pines for the loss of him.

They say he was good-looking, till his


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 bubble-schemes, as they call them, stamped him with the physiognomy of a desperate gambler. I suspect he has still a penchant towards his first flame. If he takes me, it will be for my rank and connexion, and the second seat of the borough of Rogueingrain. So we shall meet on equal terms, and shall enjoy all the blessedness of expecting nothing from each other. You can expect no security with such an adventurer. I shall have the security of a good settlement, and then if andare al diavolo be his destiny, he may go, you know, by himself. He is almost always dreaming and distrait. It is very likely that some great reverse is in store for him: but that will not concern me, you perceive.


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/97

97 Mr. Kamenar. Yes, be glad to.

. Okay.

Mr. Kamenar. Also, I believe when we provided documents, Mr. Baron Coleman also said this is what we've found. It's not exhaustive. It's not everything. We'd be glad to go back and recheck to see what may be missing or what was overlooked by a consultant—

. Yeah.

Mr. Kamenar. —that was hired to look through these search terms.

. That's fair. And it might help actually maybe we could give you a list of key words?

. No.

. No, no, no, I know. But to the extent that there's any confusion. Because I think we would have thought the 6th would have been an obvious term.

Mr. McBride. Well, we believe that the 6th is an obvious term. And if we looked for it and if we don't have it, we'd be more than happy to take a second look for you.

Thank you.

So you said you met—did you have any follow-up, by the way, ? Sorry about that.

 * BY

I just—one thing, because I think it's really important to understand something.

Our job is to find the facts, and sometimes that's just to take the answer from you. Okay?

When the report by this committee comes out, it will be so and so said this, so and


text:
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 You torture me, Clarinda, with the bare possibility:

Hush! Here is music to sooth your troubled spirit. Next to him, on this side, sits the dilettante composer, Mr. Trillo; they say his name was O'Trill, and he has taken the O from the beginning, and put it at the end. I do not know how this may be. He plays well on the violoncello, and better on the piano; sings agreeably; has a talent at verse-making, and improvises a song with some felicity. He is very agreeable company in the evening, with his instruments and music-books. He maintains that the sole end of all enlightened society is to get up a good opera, and laments that wealth, genius, and energy, are squandered upon other pursuits, to the neglect of this one great matter.


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Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/131

466 Abigail Williams fell to the earth in a fit.

After lying rigid in the roadway a few minutes, she rose with a shudder, exclaiming, ‘‘You have torn his coat, I heard it rip!”

“Whereabouts?” Hutchinson asked.

“On the side,” she replied. "Do not you see the great rent in his garment?"

Naturally, Hutchinson saw no such thing, and said so.

A little later the same day Hutchinson met the child in the house of Lieutenant Ingersol, and she at once manifested every symptom of ungovernable terror, crying, "There he stands! Do not you see him there in the comer?”

The man, now thoroughly convinced the girl really saw some supernatural visitant, advanced upon the shadowy corner of the room, drawing his sword as he walked; but before he had gone four paces, Abigail shrieked, “He is gone; but there stands a gray cat in his place!”

At that Hutchinson struck his rapier through the empty air where the phantom cat was supposed to be crouching, and, in the words of the record, “thereupon she fell into a fit, and when it was over, she said, ‘You killed her’.”

Now mark how ingeniously this shameless little impostor played upon the superstitious credulity of the man. Half unwilling to be beguiled by her words, yet half fearful she really had seen some evidence of witchcraft, Hutchinson protested he saw no cat’s carcass on the floor, but the little maid replied, “Oh, the shade of Sarah Good came and carried her away."

Sarah Good was one of the poor old women who waited execution by hanging in Ipswich jail at the time, and her conviction had been procured largely on the testimony of Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam. Though she had probably never heard the word, Abigail Williams was a shrewd practical psychologist. Having prepared Hutchinson’s superstitious mind by her imposing cries and fainting fits, she chose this moment to strengthen the already impregnable case which popular ignorance and credulity had made against poor, friendless old Sarah Good.

jury impaneled to try George Burroughs gave little time to considering their verdict. He was found guilty as charged, and sentenced to be hanged on Gallows Hill August 19, 1692.

One of the current superstitions was that persons who had really sold their souls to Satan could not repeat the Lord’s prayer correctly; but at the gibbet’s foot George Burroughs recited the beautiful petition from beginning to end with great fervor and beauty, and quoted from the Book of Job: “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth. And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God."

The “afflicted children”, who had gathered on Gallows Hill to see their victim die, attempted to drown out the sound of his words by shrieking that a great, black man stood at his shoulder, dictating the prayer and Scriptural passages to him.

Townsmen of Salem, assembled to see Satan’s servant pay the price of his wickedness, were thunderstruck when they heard the holy words fall from the convicted wizard’s lips.

“This man is no witch,” a murmur ran through the crowd. “Save him; stop the execution; we commit murder!” The people pressed forward to take the condemned preacher from the hangman.


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Page:The-Gathas.pdf/50

 to which it alludes, as I hope elsewhere to prove; the sudden prominence or ‘call’ of a leader named Zarathushtra must have been a still effective circumstance, and not merely a remembered tradition, although it must have taken some little time for it to acquire its poetical settlement; yet, as we see, it was evidently put together for the purpose of securing the recognition of Zarathushtra's leadership and of consolidating his authority.

The form is also graphic, and in the higher sense truly poetical.

title: Page:The-Gathas.pdf/50


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/98

98 so said this, so and so said this, right? And what I want to make sure is that we're not putting words in your mouth, that we're not mischaracterizing you. And sometimes it's hard because there's a lot of color added to the answers. So when we try to drill down, it's because we don't want there to be confusion in terms of what your position is.

And what I want to make sure, because I'm looking at the exhibit in 12, and I'm looking at the exhibit in 22, and what I see in 22 is a text conversation. And I'm sorry, my eyes are terrible, but it looks like it's between Stephen Brown and somebody named Ali Akbar, who has your picture on it, who's talking about rooms at the JW Marriott that you've admitted that you stayed at—

Uh-huh.

—with individuals who are in your room block with a personal security detail, a term that you used, presuming that this is you in this text, with the layers that you've described, with an individual that you hired.

And your position is that that's not me on the text and I don't remember this email and I didn't tell Stephen Brown to send this.

I'm just—that's where I'm—that's what I'm taking away. And I want to make sure that I understand that that's what you're saying. And if I'm wrong, I want you to correct me.

I'd like to refer you to my previous answer.

But here's the thing. If your previous answer wasn't clear, I have the right to ask you to clarify, which is not "asked and answered," it's a clarification. So if what I just said is wrong, I'd like you to correct me.

Mr. Kamenar. Well, excuse me. What you said, asked what was wrong, you had three or four, five things in there. So if you could go—

. Sure.


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Page:Crotchet Castle - Peacock (1831).djvu/103

 That is a very pleasant fancy at any rate.

I assure you he has a great deal to say for it. Well, next to him again, is Dr. Morbific, who has been all over the world to prove that there is no such thing as contagion; and has inoculated himself with plague, yellow fever, and every variety of pestilence, and is still alive to tell the story. I am very shy of him, too; for I look on him as a walking phial of wrath, corked full of all infections, and not to be touched without extreme hazard.

This is the strangest fellow of all.

Next to him sits Mr. Philpot, the geo-


text: Crotchet Castle/Chapter 5

title: Crotchet Castle/Chapter 5


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/132

Rh But the Reverend Dr. Cotton Mather, who was also present to witness the execution, spurred his horse between the victim and his would-be rescuers. He preached a fiery sermon from the saddle, reminding the people that the devil could quote Scripture for his purposes, and declaring this was but a cunning artifice of the Evil One to save his servant.

Meanwhile the hangman had adjusted the noose about the prisoner’s throat, the platform was snatched away, and George Burroughs’ stainless soul ascended to its endless home as his martyred body swung between earth and sky.

resident of Salem Village, writing of the execution to a friend in Boston, described the last chapter of the Reverend George Burroughs’ tragedy in these words: “When he had been cut down, he was dragged by the halter to a hole or grave, between the rocks, about two feet deep, his shirt and breeches being pulled off and an old pair of trousers of one previously executed put on his lower parts. He was so put in that one of his hands and his chin was left uncovered.”

So Christians did unto Christians in the name of their common religion in the year of grace 1692.

In WEIRD TALES next month Seabury Quinn tells of the end of the New England witchcraft horror, and narrates how, when more than two hundred witches were lying in the jails of Salem and Ipswich awaiting death at the hands of the common hangman, Governor Phips of Massachusetts suddenly ended the persecution and emptied the jails. The Puritan series will be followed by a thrilling true tale of witchcraft from medieval Germany, told in Mr. Quinn’s most fascinating style


text:
Page:Laws (vol 1 of 2) (Bury, 1926).pdf/77

LAWS, BOOK I man fit for command, provided that he has military science, even though he be a coward and sea-sick with a kind of tipsy terror when danger comes?

mec. Certainly not.

atu. And suppose he has no military skill, besides being a coward ?

Mec. You are describing an utterly worthless fellow, not a commander of men at all, but of the most womanish of women.

aTH. Now take the case of any social institution whatsoever which naturally has a commander and which, under its commander, is beneficial; and suppose that someone, who had never seen the conduct of the institution under its commander, but seen it only when with no commander or bad commanders, were to commend the institution or censure it: do we imagine that either the praise or the blame of such an observer of such an institution is of any value?

mec. Certainly not, when the man has never seen nor shared in an institution of the kind that was properly conducted,

aTH, Now stay a moment! Shall we lay it down that, of the numerous kinds of social institutions, that of banqueters and banquetings forms one ?

MEG, Most certainly.

ATH. Now has anyone ever yet beheld this institution rightly conducted? Both of you can easily make answer— Never yet at all,” for with you this institution is neither customary nor legal; but I have come across many modes of banqueting in many places, and [ have also inquired into nearly all of them, and I have scarcely seen or heard of a single one that was in all points rightly conducted ;

51 E 2

Google


text:
Page:Laws (vol 1 of 2) (Bury, 1926).pdf/79

LAWS, BOOK I for if any were right at all, it was only in a few details, and most of them were almost entirely on the wrong lines.

cLiN. What do you mean by that, Stranger ? Explain yourself more clearly; for since we are (as you observed) without any experience of such institutions, even if we did come across them, we would probably fail to see at once what was right in them and what wrong.

aTH. That is very probable. Try, however, to leam from my description. This you understand— that in all gatherings and associations for any purpose whatsoever it is right that each group should always have a commander.

clin. Of course.

ata. Moreover, we have recently said that the commander of fighting men must be courageous,

cin. Of course,

aTH. The courageous man is less perturbed by alarms than the coward.

cin. That is true, too.

aTtH, Now if there had existed any device for putting an army in charge of a general who was absolutely impervious to fear or perturbation, should we not have made every effort to do so?

cLiN. Most certainly.

ATH, But what we are discussing now is not the man who is to command an army in time of war, in meetings of foe with foe, but the man who is to command friends in friendly association with friends in time of peace.

CLIN. Quite so,

atu. Such a gathering, if accompanied by drunkenness, is not free from disturbance, is it?

53

Google


text:
Page:CTRL0000034607 - Deposition of Ali Alexander, (Dec. 9, 2021).pdf/99

99 Mr. Kamenar. —one by one.

. After everything that Mr. Childress asked you about the JW receipts, about your personal security detail, I'd like you to answer, sitting right here, that you believe that this is not you in exhibit 22.

The Witness. I'm not saying what I believe or don't believe. I'm saying I do not recall this exchange. This exchange lines up with all these other facts.

Mr. Kamenar. All right. That's it.

 * BY MR.

Going back to when you said you met Mr. Rhodes in November of 2020, where did you—like what was going on where you met him? Was it an event, preplanning an event? What was going on? How did you meet him?

We were in—I was protesting in Atlanta. And, yeah, someone wanted to introduce me to Stewart Rhodes. And he volunteered to, you know, hey, wherever you're going across the country, if you'll give me a call or have your people give me a call, you know, we'll try to provide you with a veteran.

What event were you throwing in November when you met him? Or what was—actually, let me backtrack.

Do you not recall the date, the rally or the event you were planning in November around—what event was it then?

I don't, I don't recall. It was either mid-November, late November, or the first days of December.

Okay. Was it a rally at the State Capitol in Georgia?

Yes.

Okay. And what were you protesting at the State Capitol in Georgia in November?


text:
Page:Laws (vol 1 of 2) (Bury, 1926).pdf/81

LAWS, BOOK I cLIN. Certainly not ; quite the reverse, I imagine.

ATH, So those people also need, in the first place, a commander ?

cLin. Undoubtedly—they above all.

ATH. Should we, if possible, provide them with a commander who is imperturbable ?

cLIN. Certainly.

aTH. Naturally, also, he should be wise about social gatherings. For he has both to preserve the friendliness which already exists among the company and to see that the present gathering promotes it still further.

cuin. Very true.

aTH, Then the commander we set over drunken men should be sober and wise, rather than the opposite? For a commander of drunkards who was himself drunken, young, and foolish would be very lucky if he escaped doing some serious mischief.

cin. Uncommonly lucky.

ATH, Suppose, then, that a man were to find fault with such institutions in States where they are managed in the best possible way, having an objection to the institution in itself, he might perhaps be right in doing so; butif a man abuses an institution when he sees it managed in the worst way possible, it is plain that he is ignorant, first, of the fact that it is badly conducted, and secondly, that every institution will appear similarly bad when it is carried on without a sober ruler and commander, For surely you per- ceive that a sea-captain, and every commander of anything, if drunk, upsets everything, whether it be aship or a chariot or an army or anything else that is under his captaincy.

55

Google


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52 Wet and North. The Country would be exceeding pleaant and heathful in if it was not for the heavy Fogs that annoy it, epecially near the  For it is as warm here as any where, when the Air is erene and clear, which happens when the Wind blows Eaterly; and ometimes it is o hot, that the  which after the Ebbing of the Sea has remained in the hollow Places of the Rocks, has often, before Night, by the Heat of the Sun, been found coagulated into a fine white Salt. I can remember, that once, for three Months together, we had as fair ettled Weather, and warm Days, as one could wih, without any Rain. The length of the Summer is from the latter End of May to the midt of September; all the remaining Part of the Yer is Winter, which is tolerable in the Latitude of 64 Degrees, but to the Northward in 68 Degrees and above, the Cold is o exceive, that even the mot pirituous Liquors, as French Brandy, will freeze near the At the End of Augut the Sea is all covered with

title: Page:A description of Greenland.djvu/80


text:
Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 6 (1925-06).djvu/133

 A Yellow Newspaper—and an Execution

was to die.* The jury took fifty minutes to decide his fate. Next day, lurid scare-headed stories told the populace that the man who had murdered Scaffia, the photographer, believed to be a ringleader in Black Hand affairs, would be hanged in the Parish prison yard in a few weeks. And the populace was thrilled, for nothing awakened greater interest than a prospective hanging, especially when the hangee had got rid of his victim with disgusting bloodiness and brutality.

To keep the thrill to its highest pitch the newspapers got on the job early. Day after day stories to quicken the pulse and feed morbid desire were printed. Reporters worked their imaginations over-time to make their sheet the favorite reading with the hanging devotees.

Sensation after sensation was sprang. The greedy readers were told that an attempt would be made to save the Aspara family from the ignominy of a hanged member by having a sharpshooter pick the murderer off as he made his way to the gallows. Then efforts to send poison and other means of personally wooing death were shriekingly told. The thrill grew.

The News was as sensational as its limited means and the law allowed. It catered openly to the lovers of sensation at its reddest, and it refused at all times to permit truth to interfere with its plans.

In former hangings the News had had matters pretty much its own way. Its "hanging edition" was always on the street before the cause of it had passed into the unknown. Thousands of copies were sold and their contents devoured before the less sensational papers gave forth their versions. And with papers selling at five cents a copy—well, the News needed all the money it could get, for reporters insisted upon eating.

But the Aspara hanging had kindled the entire press. Even the sleepiest of the papers was sitting up, and the Index, the one approach to the News in sensationalism, was preparing to get out an Aspara hanging edition that would leave nothing unsaid in the way of sensational detail. The News must look to its laurels. It did.

, owner and editor of the News, came into the local room one afternoon and summoned MacTavish to his sanctum. “Mac” had blown into the News office a few months earlier and landed a job. His unleashed imagination and utter disregard for facts endeared him to Keene. He found thrills on whatever run was assigned to him. He put real estate in the first column of the first page time after time, and found scandal upon scandal when the waterfront was his - *Although fictitious names are used throughout this story, nevertheless the sensational newspaper hoaxes described herein actually occurred just as told. Those residents of New Orleans who remember the Aspara hanging may wonder what newspaper it was that is here given the fictitious name of the News; but since that newspaper is no longer published, and Aspara himself long ago passed from this life at the end of a hempen rope, it suffices to print the facts (here revealed for the first time) and let the News and its enterprizing police reporter retain their anonymity. —Editor. 468


text:
Page:A description of Greenland.djvu/81

Rh with Ice, which does not thaw before April or May, and ometimes not till the latter End of June. 'Tis remarkable, that on the Wetern Coats of different Countries, lying in one and the ame Latitude, it is much colder than on the Eatern, as ome Parts of Greenland and Norway. And though Greenland is much colder than Norway, yet the Snow never lies o high, epecially in the Bays and Inlets, where it is eldom above half a Yard higher than the Ground; whereas the Inland Parts and the Mountains are perpetually covered with Ice and Snow, which never melts; and not a Spot of the Ground is bare, but near the Shore and in the Bays; where in the Summer you are delighted with a charming Verdure, caued by the Heat of the Sun, reverberated from Side to Side, and concentrated in thee lower Parts of the Valleys, urrounded by high Rocks and Mountains, for many Hours together without Intermiion; but as oon as the Sun is et, the Air is changed at once, and the cold make you oon feel the Nearnes Rh

title: Page:A description of Greenland.djvu/81


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54 of their Neighbourhood, and oblige you to put on your Furs. Beides the frightful Ice that covers the whole Face of the Land, the Sea is almot choak'd with it, ome flat and large Fields of Ice, or as they call it, and ome huge and prodigious Mountains, of an atonihing Bignes, lying as deep under Water as they oar high in the Air. Thee are Piecs of the of the Land, which lie near the Sea, and burting, tumble down into the Sea, and are carried off. They repreent to the Beholders, afar off, many odd and trange Figures; ome of Churches, Catles with Spires and Turrets; others you would take to be Ships under Sail; and many have been deluded by them, thinking they were real Ships, and going to board them. Nor does their Figure and Shape alone urprize, but alo their Diverity of Colours pleaes the Sight: for ome are like white Crytal, others blue as Sapphires; and others again green as Emeralds. One would again green as Emeralds. One would attribute the Caue of thee Colours to Metals or Minerals of the Places, where this Ice was formed;

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Rh assignment. So Keene readily saw that the police run was where he properly belonged.

Scoop after scoop resulted from the transfer. The sedate morning papers contented themselves by ignoring these as “fakes,” but nevertheless the subscription list of the News grew rapidly and the street sales brought constant smiles in the business office.

But the efforts of the Index in the interest of the Aspara passing were bearing undeniable fruits. The paper was finding readers that heretofore had been absolutely faithful to the News, and a canvas of the News’ circulation showed a falling off for several days. Drastic steps must be taken.

“Mac,” said Keene, when the two were seated in his office, “we’ve got to do something. "We’re slipping. I want our hanging edition to break all known records, and I want our subscription list built up meanwhile.”

“I’ve written everything that had a semblance of fact in it,” said Mae, “and a whole lot more that had not even that. Truth is, this Aspara is dead from the collar up. If he led the Mafia, then it is a harmless thing. He spends his time with the priests and refuses to use even the little English he knows when we try to interview him. There’s only one thing to be done.”

“And that is—”

“Fake it and fake it strong.”

“What have you in mind?”

“A series of sensations inspired by ourselves. Let us put over some fakes so big and so truthful-seeming that even the old morning cronies will have to take notice. I’ll never be content until I make them print as follow-ups our worst fakes. They brand us as liars and by that means nullify our scoops when they are genuine scoops.”

“Go as far as you like, Mac. But what stories are there?”

“There are always stories; the air is full of them. Give me until tomorrow morning and I will submit a plan.”

days later a “box-car head” in the News told the city that a bold attempt to cheat the gallows of Aspara had been made. A cake had been mailed to him from a point in Mississippi. It was a harmless-looking confection of the sponge variety, but cleverly buried in it were two sharp saws. The cake was delivered at the prison about half an hour before the home edition’s deadline. It came in a special delivery package. Scarcely had it been received when Mac approached the sheriff.

“Sheriff Short,” he said excitedly, “is it true that weapons have been sent to Aspara concealed in a pie or cake?”

The sheriff was acutely surprized.

“Who in H— told you that?” he shouted. “There’s a leak somewhere in this office! Why, the cake has scarcely been cut! I demand that you tell me who informed you."

Mac looked innocent and rather hurt.

"Why, Sheriff, our office just called me to say that such a rumor reached them. Is it true ?"

“Well, since you know, it is true. Here’s the cake. It’s a clever piece of work, too. See how the saws have been baked right in it. See how the heat has tarnished them.”

Mac looked and concealed a smile.

“That’s what comes from long experience in detecting crime, Sheriff,” he said. “None but an expert would notice a thing like that.”

Then he hurried to a telephone.

“Let her go, John,” he said to the city editor. “The cake came and Sheriff Short is trying to find the leak in his office—the leak that gave


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Rh formed; or of Waters, of which it was coagulated: but Experience teaches me, that the blue Ice is the Concretion of freh Water, which at firt is white, and at length hardens and turns blue; but the greenih Colour comes from Salt Water. 'Tis oberved, that if you put the blue Ice near the Fire and let it melt, and afterwards remove it to a colder Place, to freeze again, it does not recover its former blue, but becomes white. From whence I infer, that the volatile Sulpher, which the Ice had attracted from the Air, by its Reolution into Water, exhales and vanihes. Though the Summer Seaon is very hot in Greenland, it eldom caues any Thunder and Lightning; the Reaon of which I take to be the Coolnes of the Night, which allays the Heat of the Day, and caues the ulphureous Exhalations to fall again with the heavy Dew to the Ground. As for the ordinary Meteors, commonly een in other Countries, they are viible in Greenland; as the Rainbow, flying or hooting Stars, and the like. But what is more peculiar Rh

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56 to the Climate, is the Northern Light, or Aurora Borealis, which in the Spring of the Year, about the New Moon, darts Streams of Light all over the Sky, as quick as Lightning, epecially if it be a clear Night, with uch a Brightnes, that you may read by it, as by

At the Summer Soltice there is no Night, and you have the Pleaure to ee the Sun turn round about the Horizon all the 24 Hours; and in the Depth of Winter they have but little Comfort in that Planet, and the Nights are proportionably long; yet it never is o dark, but you can ee to travel up and down the Country, though ometimes it be neither Moonhine nor Starlight: but the Snow and Ice, with which both Land and Sea is covered, enlightens the Air; or the Reaon may be fetch'd from the Nearnes of the Horizon to the Æquator.

The Temperament of the Air is not unhealthful; for, if you except the Scurvy and

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470 us the tip. It’s a good thing we thought of mucilaging the edges of the cake where we inserted the saws. Quote the sheriff as saying the saws were baked in the cake.”

The press room at the Criminal Court was in a furor when the News scoop became known. Hurried trips to the sheriff’s quarters confirmed the story. There were the cake and the saws, and the sheriff telling how cleverly the work had been done. The Democrat and all the others had to run the story. The cake was mailed from Pass Christian, and correspondents there told of the tall, dark, foreign-looking man who had been seen skulking about the town, carrying a suspicious-looking parcel. None of these was acquainted with the business manager of the News.

had the cake grown stale when another thriller quickened the heart-beats of the populace. This time holy-picture cards were the novel means of getting Aspara on the front pages. Innocent-looking post cards were mailed to the condemned man. But Sleuth Short was not taking any chances. The cards felt bulky. He opened one of them with his jackknife. A white powder spilled upon his desk. Aha! Someone trying to smuggle poison! Isn’t it damnable? And just then Mac appeared.

“Is it true that poison has been sent to Aspara?” he asked. The sheriff bellowed his anger. He cursed his underlings, but finally admitted the truth of the story.

“I know a great deal about poisons,” he said, “but this baffles me. I will send it to the city apothecary for analysis. That’s all that can be done now. But who the H— told you about it?”

At ten minutes to deadline Mac called the city editor.

“Went through swimmingly, John,” he said. “The quinine is to be sent to the city apothecary for analysis and that, you know, will mean a couple of months. Short says he knows a lot about ordinary poisons but this baffles him. Probably some deadly importation. Play that up. I forgot it when I wrote the story last night.”

The two big beats brought the News into its own again. Its public was back eating out of its hand, and the hanging was only a day off. “We just want one more sensation,” Keene said to Mac, “and the thing is done."

Mac was writing a sob story, to appear after the hanging, about the lone bouquet of faded flowers laid on the bier of the murderer by the frayed little woman that called him husband, when Keene made the suggestion. Mae thought a minute.

“I have it!” he said. “Spring a story today that a reprieve may be granted Aspara. That will disappoint the people tremendously and make them watch and hope that it fails.”

“Great!” shouted Keene. “John, call the governor on long-distance while Mac writes the story.”

The governor was asked whether he would grant a reprieve if Aspara made a confession implicating the Black Hand. Of course, he said he would. Then Mac hurried to the condemned cell and spoke to Aspara.

“I come with a message from the governor,” he said melodramatically as he approached the bars. “If you will confess what you know about the Mafia, the governor will grant you freedom."

Aspara shot a look of hate at the intruder.

“Me no confessa,” he snarled. “Me confessa to priest only.”

But that was enough.

“Aspara will carry his knowledge of the Mafia to his grave,” began the follow-up story. “He stolidly maintains his silence and even the offer of


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Rh freedom made by the governor fails to move him. When the reporter of the News, sent by the governor to Aspara, gave him the message which pointed the way to possible freedom, the condemned man spurned the chance to save his life. Even the pleadings of his wife, a fragile, pitiable creature, failed to move him. He flung her angrily from him and snarled: "Me confessa to priest only.'”

And the world read and chuckled. The suspense was lifted. Aspara was to die—the story of the death agony was to be told in all its gruesome details.

wrote the story of the hanging the night before it happened. It was an easy task, for people go to the scaffold in much the same way. There are certain things that one can. be practically certain about. The shudder and the drooping forward of the body at the first sight of the gallows is always perfectly safe. The Criminal Court building, too, is a splendid setting for a tragedy of this kind. The condemned cell is on the top floor and the procession reaches the yard of the Parish prison by a winding stairway. Then the tread of the feet on the paved flooring, then the glimpse of the gallows, and the shudder, and then—that was as far as Mac ever got. The rest of the journey could be taken as certain to go off without a mishap.

As the Aspara procession turned the corner, Mac jumped to the ’phone which he had preempted in Judge Skinner’s office.

"Let her go, John!” he shouted.

Then, while he rushed down the stairs and into the prison yard to see the victim cut down, and get the intimate details for the home edition, a thousand sturdy voices began to yell through the streets of the city:

"All about the hangin’ of Aspara."

It was half an hour later before the Index got on the street.

months after Aspara’s death Keene and Mac and the city editor had the heartiest sort of a laugh. The city apothecary had just handed down his finding in the case of the holy-picture cards and the white powder they contained. It stated that he had tried the substance on rats and found that it was a slow poison of the deadliest sort.

"It’s a pity we can’t tell the truth for once and get the laugh on them all,” said Mac as he picked up the half-emptied package of quinine from Keene’s desk.

"It would be the best sort of a joke,” said the city editor.

"Yes,” opined Keene, "but remember there will be other hangings—at least I hope so. The last edition certainly broke all records for sales, and our circulation has grown steadily ever since. People are coming to know who feeds them the right sort of stuff, and we must not spoil it."

"Well, anyway,” commented Mac, "we made the old fogies follow us a half dozen times. I’m satisfied. But just let the city apothecary get gay with me!”


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Rh and Ditempers of the Breat, they know nothing here of the many other Dieaes with which other Countries are plagued; and thee Pectoral Infimities are not o much the Effects of the exceive Cold, as of that naty foggih Weather, which this Country is very much ubject to; which I impute to the vat Quantity of Ice that covers the Land, and drives in the Sea. From the Beginning of April to the End of July is the foggih Seaon, and from that time the Fog daily decreaes. But as in the Summer Time they are troubled with the Fog, o in the Winter Seaon they are likewie plagued with the Vapour called which when the Cold is exceive, ries out of the Sea as the Smoak out of a Chimney, and is as thick as the thicket Mit, epecially in the Bays, where there is any Opening in the ice. 'Tis very remarkable, that this Frot, Damp, or Smoak, if you come near it, will inge the very Skin of your Face and Hands; but whe you are in it, you find no uch piercing or inging Sharpnes, but warm and oft; only it

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58 it leaves a white Frot upon your Hair and Clothes.

I mut not forget here to mention the wonderful Harmony and Correpondence, which is oberved in Greenland between Fountains and the main Sea, viz. that at in New and Full Moon, when the tronget Ebbing is at Sea, the hidden Fountains or Springs of freh Water break out on Shore and dicover themelves, often in Places, where you never would expect to meet with any uch; epecially in Winter, when the Ground is covered with Ice and Snow; yet at other Times there is no Water Springs in thoe Places. The Caue of this wonderful Harmony I leave to the learned Enquiry of Natural Philoophers; how Springs and Fountains follow the Motion of the main Sea, as the Sea does that of the Moon. Yet this I mut oberve to you, that ome great Men have been greatly mitaken, in that they have taken for granted and aerted, that in Norway and Greenland the Tide was hardly

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Rh the vertical meridian, then only the horizontal lines cast distinct retinal images. For the same reasons would one or the other of the inclined lines appear distinct if the direction of the principal meridians were not exactly vertical or horizontal. It is next to be experimentally ascertained what concave or convex cylindrical lens corrects the meridional asymmetry and causes all the lines to appear equally distinct.

In order to determine more exactly the condition of refraction in each of the principal meridians, a stenopaic slit with a breadth of 1 or 2 millimetres should be held before the eye in a direction corresponding with that of the line which is seen most distinctly; the condition of refraction in the principal meridian is then to be determined in the usual manner by the aid of concave or convex lenses; the slit is then to be placed at an angle of 90° with its former position, and the condition of refraction in the second principal meridian to be determined in the same way. The difference between the condition of refraction in the two principal meridians shows the degree of the astigmatism.

If one of the principal meridians is emmetropic, Donders calls the asymmetry "simple astigmatism." He distinguishes a simple myopic and a simple hypermetropic form; generally, in the myopic form the emmetropic principal meridian is horizontal, and in the hypermetropic form it is vertical.

Compound astigmatism is where the same anomaly of refraction exists in both principal meridians, but in a different degree; there may be myopic or hypermetropic compound astigmatism.

Mixed astigmatism is where myopia exists in one principal meridian and hypermetropia in the other.

Donders has made numerous ophthalmometric measurements of the curvature of the cornea in cases of regular astigmatism. He has proved that a considerable meridional asymmetry of these curvatures must be regarded as the principal cause of this anomaly of refraction. Still, he found that neither the degree of astigmatism, as calculated from the difference of curvature of the cornea in the principal meridians, nor the direction of those meridians, corresponds absolutely with the actual condition of refraction of the entire refracting apparatus of the eye, obtained experimentally.


text: Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Eight/Chapter 1


text: Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Eight/Chapter 2


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text: Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Eight/Chapter 4


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Jess had had ample warning. There would be something important heard from Gee Gee if she neglected the regular work of her classes to devote time and thought to that wonderful play.

It was hard to keep her mind off a task that had so gripped her heart and mind. "The Spring Road" was in her thought almost continually. She even dreamed about it at night. And it was a veritable wrench to get her mind off the idyl of youth she was writing to set it upon the grim realities of Latin, English, the higher mathematics, and other school tasks.

It seemed to Jess Morse as though no other piece of writing could ever be so enthralling as this she had undertaken. When she had begun it it was with fear and trembling. The two hundred dollar prize was what spurred her to the task. But now, she fairly loved it!

"The Spring Road" was a fantasy—a comedy


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116 of the optic nerve and retina; for all other cases a good lamp-flame is all-sufficient, and in many cases more convenient.

OPHTHALMOSCOPIC DIAGNOSIS OF THE CONDITION OF REFRACTION.

The use of the ophthalmoscope for the diagnosis of the condition of refraction is as old as the use of this instrument in general. Helmholtz mentions a case in which, in a perfectly blind eye, by the help of the ophthalmoscope, he could decide the important question whether certain former difficulties of vision; which the patient complained of, depended upon myopia or incipient amblyopia. He pointed out as an advantage of this method that it makes the examiner entirely independent of the statements of the patient, since he himself sees with the patient's eye, at least with the refracting part of it. Cases in which it is desirable to be entirely independent of the statements of the patient are, in fact, frequent. Indeed, it happens often that the ophthalmoscopic examination first gives a proper direction to the functional examination.

We have already explained the manner in which the condition of refraction is disclosed by the ophthalmoscopic examination. The degree of the anomaly may be determined by the same method. Above all things the observer must be certain that both he and the patient have fully relaxed their accommodation. He can then, observing the distance from the eye under examination, determine the degree of the refraction from the number of the lens with which the fundus can be distinctly seen in the upright image. If one wish to determine exactly the condition of refraction by the ophthalmoscopic examination, it is best to paralyze the accommodation by atropine, and to use as a test-object, not the optic disc, but one of the fine retinal vessels running from it toward the macula lutea. In such a case it is well, as Coccius has proposed, to place the correcting lens close in front of the eye under examination, between it and the mirror, and to avoid the annoying reflex by slight movements of the lens. The correcting lens is then at the same distance from the eye as it would be if used as a spectacle-glass.


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Rh —a love story; it was all three in one, and she was writing it with the limitations of those who would probably play it, in mind.

Many of the contestants for Mrs. Kerrick's prize thought not at all about the players; but already in Jess's mind was fixed who, of her schoolmates, would best fit into the parts. There was a character who could not gain much sympathy from the audience, but who could wear beautiful clothes—that would just suit Lily Pendleton.

And for the Spring Spirits, in the allegory, Budding Tree and Laughing Brook, who could be better fitted than Dora and Dorothy Lockwood? While the heroine of the story must be beautiful Kate Protest, of the Senior class, and the Truant Lover the sparkling Launcelot Darby.

At home matters were not going as smoothly as Jess had hoped, after her mother obtained regular work upon the Centerport Courier. It was nice to get the money regularly for that work; but somehow Mrs. Morse could not see the wisdom of "paying as you go." Jess could not always take cash with her when she went to the stores; and if her mother chanced to be out herself and saw something particularly nice that Jess was likely to fancy, she ordered it in without regard to how it was to be paid for.


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Rh a binocular examination, to employ two concave mirrors; these are placed in a frame provided with a handle, and are separated from each other by a distance corresponding to the distance between the two eyes; each mirror revolves about both a vertical and a horizontal axis. It is only necessary, then, to so arrange the mirrors that the two images of the light cast by them fall upon each other, in order to be able to see ophthalmoscopically with both eyes. Cloudiness of the lens or vitreous, and many cases of detachment of the retina, may be observed binocularly in this manner under the most favorable circumstances. This method is not available for objects lying deeper in the eye, nor for examination in the inverted image.

The source of light for the ophthalmoscopic examination may be either a bright oil- or gas-flame, or daylight. The last, as has been shown by Helmholtz, is the best light for all cases where it is desirable to judge of the true color of the fundus, or to detect slight cloudiness in the retina. Moreover, it has the advantage of dazzling the patient less than lamp-light.

Since, in general, daylight is preferred to artificial illumination in cases where it is wished to recognize fine shades of color, it of course suggested itself to make use of this advantage in ophthalmoscopic examination. It is noticed that by daylight the ophthalmoscopic image has a yellow shade, which disappears entirely by artificial illumination. Under normal relations, this effect is seen most distinctly upon the optic nerve.

The more exact recognition of shades of color and differences in illumination possible by daylight, is probably the reason why slight cloudiness, especially in the retinal substance, which cannot be seen by artificial illumination, becomes visible by daylight. Eyes absolutely physiological often furnish proof of this fact.

The illumination by daylight is best arranged by allowing it to enter a dark room through an opening 3 or 4 centimetres in diameter, cut in the window-shutter. The ophthalmoscope may then be directed toward the sky just as is the mirror of the microscope. Direct sunlight ought, of course, not to be used except in eyes absolutely blind.

The use of daylight is particularly applicable to examinations


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106 But that had always been Mrs. Morse's way. She was over-generous with Jess while she, herself, went with shabby gloves and mended shoes. But any sensible plan of retrenchment in their household expenses had never been evolved in her mind.

How they were to meet the added burden of the January rent never seemed to trouble her. Jess only spoke of it once during that first fortnight in December; then it disturbed her mother so much that the lamp of genius refused to burn for a whole day, and, with a sigh, the girl gave over discussing the point.

Checks for her mother's stories came few and far between these days. Jess feared that they would soon owe Mr. Hargrew as large a bill as they had at Mr. Closewick's store. And as for a new dress—well, the idea of that was as far in the offing as ever.

All the girls she knew well were so busy scribbling away at their prize plays that, had Jess been free herself out of school hours, she would have been unable to find any of her usual companions at leisure.

Even Chet Belding, who was always at her beck and call, was terribly busy these days. He and Lance Darby were hard at work upon some wonderful sort of ice craft they were building


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Rh down in Monson's old boathouse, near the Girls' Branch Athletic League field and boathouse.

Each day saw the wintry winds grow colder, and soon the ice upon Lake Luna was thick enough to bear. Some of the more reckless boys had skated out to the steamboat channel, which had been sawed from the open water in the middle of the lake, so that the freight boats from Lumberport and Keyport could get to their docks.

Ice of such thickness on Lake Luna at this early date, however, surprised even that apocryphal person, "the oldest inhabitant." And Jess Morse would have been glad of a new coat, or the set of furs that her mother had talked about. When she started for school some mornings, the first blast of keen air off the lake seemed to cut through her like a knife. She wouldn't have had her mother know how really thin her apparel seemed for anything in the world.

And, very wisely, she kept up her gym. work faithfully. A few minutes' vigorous exercise after the regular day's work at school was finished put her in a glow, made her breathe more deeply and "put a shine in her eyes," as Bobby expressed it.

"There isn't a girl in the class who doesn't need brisking up in the gym. this weather—unless it's Eve Sitz," confided Bobby to Laura and


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108 Jess as they left the gymnasium building together one afternoon. "Girls are just like cats; they all like to mope around the register or the steam radiator in cold weather. Why, Lil Pendleton wears a lace shawl over her shoulders in the house, and hangs over the gas-log like an old woman. We all ought to get back into basketball—and at the rowing machines—again. Once a week on the court isn't enough to keep us alive."

"If you knew the number of things Eve Sitz does, in and out of doors, before she comes to school in the morning, and after she gets home again, you wouldn't wonder that she keeps her color, and is so brisk and strong," laughed Laura.

"I expect she is a busy little bee," admitted Bobby.

"She helps milk the cows night and morning"

"There!" interrupted the irrepressible Bobby. "That's what I've always intended to ask Eve; but I forget it."

"What's that?" asked Jess.

"Why, when you have finished milking a cow, how do you turn the milk off?"

"Isn't she the ridiculous girl?" chuckled Laura, as Bobby ran up the side street toward her own door. Then Mother Wit turned on her


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302 lent process in the deeper parts of the cornea than from the purulent infiltration of the edges of the ulcer. The floor of the ulcer is often also purulently infiltrated, and this is especially true of small ulcers; or it may be quite clean and smooth; or finally, by the help of focal illumination and a magnifying lens, it may be seen to be gray and clouded, and to contain numerous gray-white, punctated, purulent infiltrations. This purulent infiltration of the margin of the ulcer is generally only at one part of its circumference, and shows itself in the form of a dirty, yellowish-white line, while the remaining part of the circumference is clean and smooth, and therefore more difficult to see. The ulcer spreads toward the side of the infiltrated margin, and after a time comes to a stand-still at this point, but the process is renewed at some other portion of the circumference, and the tissue in its neighborhood is destroyed.

Since this destructive process gradually creeps over the surface of the cornea, Sämisch has designated this form of disease as ulcus corneæ serpens. These ulcers frequently appear flatter than they really are, since the thinned floor yields to the pressure of the aqueous humor and is pressed forward. Between the corneal abscess and the ulcus serpens there are many intermediate forms.

In the great majority of cases of purulent keratitis pus collects in the anterior chamber. In such cases iritis generally exists at the same time; but cases do undoubtedly occur in which hypopion exists, while the iris still reacts promptly under atropine and there are no adhesions with the capsule, nor any other traces of inflammation.

The belief formerly generally accepted, that the hypopion was due to a participation in the purulent process by the epithelium of the membrane of Descemet, seems no longer plausible, since we have come to regard the pus-cells as identical with the white blood-corpuscles. The process of a direct rupture of the abscess into the anterior chamber, as described by A. Weber, I have never been able satisfactorily to observe. But one very often sees a yellowish-white thread of pus, of greater or less thickness, lying close to the membrane of Descemet, and extending from the ulcer


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Rh chum, with her brisk, bird-like way: "How's the play going, Jess?"

"I'm—I'm afraid it's finished," said her chum, slowly.

Afraid! repeated Laura, in amazement.

"Yes. As far as I can finish it."

"But you're not going to give it up in the middle?" cried Laura.

"No. It is complete. Only it doesn't satisfy me," returned Jess, shaking her head. "And it never will."

"Ah! there speaks real genius!" declared Laura, smiling.

"Don't you believe it," was her friend's hasty reply. "I just don't know enough to write it well enough to suit me."

"Modesty!"

"Sense," corrected Jess, laughing a little dolefully. "How are you getting along?"

"Just as Mr. Sharp said, I am no female Shakespeare," said Laura. "But I have hopes that maybe my play isn't so bad."

Jess was not sanguine about "The Spring Road," however. She knew that it might be written so much better, if one only knew how!

And while they discussed the play Jess heard somebody calling her by name. Laura grabbed her arm and pointed.


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110 "Isn't that Mrs. Prentice—the very rich Mrs. Prentice—in her electric runabout? And, I declare, Jess! she's calling to you."

"Yes. I know her; she wants me," said Jess breathlessly, and she ran across the street to where the electric car was standing beside the curb.

"I want you, child," said the lady, with decision. "Can you excuse yourself to your friend?"

Jess waved her hand to Laura, and called:

"I'll be up after supper, dear."

Laura nodded, and smiled, and went on; but she was evidently puzzled as she turned to gaze after the runabout as it moved off swiftly with her chum beside the lady in the magnificent furs.

"And how are you and your mother getting along?" asked Mrs. Prentice, as soon as the car had started.

"Why—why about as usual, Mrs. Prentice," stammered Jess, who was much puzzled as to why the lady should want her to take this ride. "Only mother is regularly employed by Mr. Prentice, and is very grateful for the work—as you must know, ma'am."

"Oh, don't speak of that," said Mrs. Prentice, laughing. "I fancy that Pat is getting full measure for his money; he usually does. But tell me,


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Rh chamber, Roser has proposed for this condition the very suitable name of "hypopion keratitis."

The beginning of this affection is always near the centre and in the deeper layers of the cornea. At that place there appears a round, circumscribed, gray opacity, in which, when examined with a magnifying lens and by focal illumination, a number of short gray striæ may be detected. They may be either parallel with one another or radiating. The superficial layers of the cornea are at the same time diffusely clouded, and there are many small defects and irregularities in the epithelial covering.

The infiltration of the deeper layers now assumes gradually a yellowish purulent color, while a loss of substance occurs upon the surface. The appearance of these superficial ulcers is very varied. Often the ulcer is no larger than the purulent infiltration, has the appearance of a so-called corneal facet, with a smooth, glistening floor, clean margins, and no steep walls, exactly as if a piece had been sliced from the cornea by a single cut with a sharp knife. It is very easy to conceive, under these circumstances, that by the collapse of an abscess the anterior surface of the cornea has sunk in. The possibility of such a process, as described by Arlt, cannot be questioned, but, as a general rule, this change of form seems to be due to a superficial disintegration of tissue.

In other cases the superficial ulcer attains soon a greater size than the purulent infiltration behind it; its margins are sometimes flat, sometimes steep, and are often quite clean, that is, free from any purulent infiltration; it is then sometimes not easy to recognize the full extent of the loss of substance.

Frequently there is some punctated purulent infiltration in the corneal substance surrounding the margin of the ulcer.

The further course and the entire type of the disease depend essentially upon whether the deep purulent infiltration or the superficial ulcer becomes more extensive. Cases of the first kind are called corneal abscesses, on account of the circumscribed accumulation of pus in the tissue of the cornea. Unless recovery is rapid, the enlargement of the abscess and of the superficial ulcer causes extensive destruction of tissue.

Other cases assume a dangerous character, less from the puru-