"Annie, girl, who is that coming up the spring path? Ah me! I fear my old eyes are beginning to fail me at last!" "Coming up the—ugh! ...

"Ef yer strike that gal, by ther heavings erbove I'll send er bullet through yer skull or bury my knife in yer heart," and the speaker's ...

Sir Harold Wynde, Baronet, was standing upon the pier head at Brighton, looking idly seaward, and watching the play of the sunset rays ...

It was evening among the stately cottonwoods and poplars that lined the banks of the Maumee, and the dying day an August one in the year ...

Pontiac, the Ottawa, was dead! Yes, the fearless originator of the greatest Indian conspiracy on record had received a death blow at ...

It was a beautiful scene. Not a cloud marred the vast blue dome of heaven. Autumn reigned supreme in the Lone Star State, where brave ...

Mid-afternoon of an oppressively hot and sultry day, in the year ’54. We call the reader’s attention to a scene, that, if not romantic, ...

The scene of our story is laid in the great North-west. It was a bleak, windy day in November. The shrill blasts wailed through the ...

Toward noon of a pleasant June day, 18—, a man, mounted on a powerful animal of the Mustang breed, was riding slowly over the plain, ...

The sun was going down behind the western hills in a flood of yellow light, and a river dimpled on under the slanting rays, great fish ...

The sun was sinking, a great fiery ball, in the leaden west, at the close of an autumn day, in the year 1804, when a solitary canoe ...