Mary johnston

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  • THE morning was gray and I sat by the sea near Palos in a gray mood. I was Jayme de Marchena, and that was a good, old Christian name. But my grandmother was Jewess, and in corners they said that she never truly recanted, and I had been much with her as a child. She was dead, but still they talked of her. Jayme de Marchena, looking back from the hillside of forty-six, saw some service done for the Queen and the folk. This thing and that thing. Not demanding trumpets, but serviceable. It would be neither counted nor weighed beside and against that which...

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  • THE work of the day being over, I sat down upon my doorstep, pipe in hand, to rest awhile in the cool of the evening. Death is not more still than is this Virginian land in the hour when the sun has sunk away, and it is black beneath the trees, and the stars brighten slowly and softly, one by one. The birds that sing all day have hushed, and the horned owls, the monster frogs, and that strange and ominous fowl (if fowl it be, and not, as some assert, a spirit damned) which we English call the whippoorwill,...

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  • “The Giant Scissors,” and “Two Little Knights of Kentucky.”) The Little Colonel’s House Party The Little Colonel’s Holidays The Little Colonel’s Hero The Little Colonel at Boarding-School The Little Colonel in Arizona The Little Colonel’s Christmas Vacation The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor The Little Colonel’s Knight Comes Riding Mary Ware:

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