"Where is my home,Where is my home?Waters through its meads are streaming,Mounts with rustling woods are teeming,Vales are bright with flow'rets rare,Oh, Earth's Eden, thou art fair!Thou art my home, my fatherland,Thou art my home, my fatherland!"
News of still more imprisonments and executions followed daily. The older daughter of Prof. Masaryk was imprisoned, mainly as a punishment to her father, who was working so hard against the Central Powers abroad. Machar, one of the greatest poets of Bohemia, shared the same fate because of a poem published in the United States, without the poet'sconsent—a poem passed many years before by the Austrian censor!
Strange rumors spread. Once Jozef and his particular friend, Jaroslav, walked out of the city in the direction of Blanik, a mountain around which are clustered many traditions. They were overtaken and offered a ride by a very old man.
"Who are you and where are you going?" he asked.
"We're students in the Lower Gymnasium," Jaroslav answered. "We're only out for a walk, for there is no school. We're going toward Blanik, but don't expect to get so far."
"Better not," said the old man sternly. "Who knows but the old tale may be true that the Taborites never died but are hidden, as is said, in a cave there. They were to reappear at the time of Bohemia's greatest peril, you know. This may be it. There're lights inthat mountain, I tell you; don't breathe a word of it; but also don't go there."
Here he let the boys alight, and they walked on speculating on the tradition and as to just what the man meant by his last words.
"Do you think that some of the Czechs go there to discuss things?" asked Jozef. Jaroslav did not know what to think. Both boys wondered and wondered whether some great help might not come to Bohemia from the mountain.
School did not reopen, and food became very scarce. It seemed best that Jozef be sent back to his home in Slovakia in any makeshift way possible. This was done, and after a week's hard and varied travel, he reached home, almost starved. In Slovakia he found the same persecution of all suspected of lack of sympathy with the plans and purposes of the Central Powers.
Four of his relatives had been taken to fight;of these two cousins had been killed, and one was reported to have been shot with an entire company that refused to advance against the Serbians. No one knew where the fourth relative, an uncle after whom Jozef had been named, was to be found, until Austria-Hungary was broken up and he returned home wounded. He had a story full of exciting incidents to tell and the villagers never tired of hearing it.
Men and boy listening to story"THE VILLAGERS NEVER TIRED OF HEARING IT"
"THE VILLAGERS NEVER TIRED OF HEARING IT"
One day a load of miserable looking prisoners passed in cars through the village. It was terrible to see them as they lay listlessly against each other. It was plain that it had been long since they had had anything to eat or drink.
The villagers were forbidden to give them food or to satisfy their thirst, but the kind-hearted Slovak maidens found a way to help nevertheless. How the idea spread not many of the girls knew, but there was a sudden interchange of knitting material. It must have contained a message, for the girls, far thinner thanthey had been before the War, met before the Church and proceeded past the cars in a body, as if to view the horrible sight. But most of them raised their eyes only for a moment. It was when each threw some crusts of bread soaked in wine in to the famishing prisoners—bread that each had denied herself from her own scanty allowance.
The prettiest girl of all blocked the way as long as she could to a Magyar officer, while the prisoners, weak as they were, fell like beasts on the unexpected treat.
"We want to see bad men. We show them we think them bad," the girl said to the officer in broken Hungarian, smiling sweetly.
He smiled in return and, nodding his approval of the sentiment, let the girls stay long enough for all evidences of what they had done, except the brighter looks of the prisoners, to have vanished.
Even harder to bear than the thought ofwhat their loved ones might be suffering in battle, was to see the younger children sicken because of lack of proper food. Ruzena was one of these. She became so ill that the family were seriously alarmed. She refused to eat the coarse food which was the village's daily ration and piteously begged for something different. There was nothing else to offer.
"Do go to Janik's," the mother one day bade Jozef, quite in despair, "and see if they haven't some little bit of a thing they could let us have to tempt her."
Janik's mother was full of sympathy but vainly searched her cupboards. At last she sent Janik with Jozef to see if there might not be some winter vegetable rolled in some corner of the cellar.
Boy on floor holding something up to his woman with girl in bed beside him"HE DROPPED HIS TREASURE AT RUZENA'S BEDSIDE"
"HE DROPPED HIS TREASURE AT RUZENA'S BEDSIDE"
The boys searched but found nothing. As they were leaving there suddenly flashed upon Jozef a recollection of how he had hidden a private store some distance in the secretpassages. Hastily leaving Janik without any explanation, he ran excitedly to his mother.
"Give me the key to our cellar quick, quick, mother!" he panted.
His mother stared. "What has happened?"
But Jozef grasped the key without answering and ran. Trembling, he lit the lantern and made his way into the passage opening, to find that the earth had fallen, barring the way.
Running out again, he leaped into the courtyard, and seized a shovel, not glancing at his mother, although conscious that she stood close to the window gazing out, her face full of alarm.
Again he went into the cellar. Little by little the hardened earth was shoveled away under his feeble grasp, until he was able to crawl into the opening. The air smelled close and moldy. "One—two—three—" Jozef counted the ten steps which he rememberedhaving taken and looked around. No food was to be seen. He searched for the shelves—but they also had vanished.
Dumbfounded and sadly disappointed, he retraced his steps.
But instead of getting back to the opening, he unexpectedly found himself in another passage, and there, oh, joy! his food!
Loading his arms, he staggered out. Without locking the cellar door, he made his way dizzily across the street.
"Thanks be to the blessed Virgin!" exclaimed his mother in the midst of her amazement as he sank on his knees and dropped his treasure at Ruzena's bedside.
I wasdrafted in July, 1915, and sent with others to a Hungarian training camp. We were not there long before we heard that we were to go to the front. On the day of departure, Anka, to whom I am engaged, came to the station with my mother. There were, of course, many other women, all with flowers in their arms and all with eyes red from weeping. For they did not want us to go to fight those who had done us no harm. My father, who had always been a great patriot, could not come, but he sent me these words which he had painstakingly copied from our greatest poet:
"It is shameful when in misery to moan over our fate; he who by his deeds appeasesthe wrath of Heaven, acts better. Not from a tearful eye but from a diligent hand fresh hope will blossom. Thus even evil may yet be changed to good."
Later this fell into the hands of a German, but he did not understand it. I did.
It was hard to part. My mother, in the midst of her uncontrollable sobs, whispered:
"Jozef, when the time comes, you know what you must do."
It was hard to part. At the end, Anka gave me some red and white ribbon, the Czech and Slovak colors, which I tied around my rifle. It did not remain there long, for when the Magyar captain in charge of our battalion saw it, he swore savagely, and taking his saber, cut it off and stamped it under his heels. Not satisfied, he deliberately hit me a blow from which I suffered for many days. At the same time he muttered: "Take care what you are about, you Slovak dog!"
My companions were as indignant as myself at the insult to our colors to which we have every right. "If a time comes when we can revenge ourselves, we'll not forget," we promised one another.
By this time we had all heard, somehow, of Czechs and Slovaks who refused to fight against the Allies, declaring that they had not voted for the War, and ought not to be compelled to fight; and of many Czech and Slovak desertions. Just before we left, there was fiendish rejoicing among the Austrian Germans and Magyars, because a Czech regiment, intending to desert to the Russians, had been trapped, and all the officers and every tenth private shot. The story did not frighten us or make us less determined to surrender if opportunity offered. Better to be shot, we told ourselves, than to serve those who in victory would treat our people still worse than they had already done.
We got to the front at Rovno and all that day were kept working without a morsel to eat. We had just finished entrenching ourselves, when Russian shrapnel blew over us.
Towards morning, I heard shouting. Soon after I saw a bearded Russian with a long bayonet, standing over me. I tried to tell him I was a friend, but he had no time to listen, for Austrian machine gun shot began to come from the rear, and, with others, I was taken to a wood not far away.
It was already full of prisoners. As soon as we came, the Austrian and Magyar prisoners pitched into us, claiming that what had happened was the fault of those "Czech and Slovak cowards." Even here, the Germans and Austrians blustered and tried to order us about.
We were very hungry, but nothing was given us to eat until we reached Rovno. Here we received a little, several of us sharing one bowl.After that we were marched to Kiev, a distance between two hundred and three hundred miles. We still had very little to eat, for Magyars and Austrian Germans had not yet got over their notion of being superior people and so entitled to more than we. When we complained, they even beat us. One poor fellow who had grabbed a loaf of bread from a Magyar who had two, was found next morning with his throat cut.
Our prison camp was at Darnica, near the city. It was just a big field with some trees, surrounded by barb wire. I remained here about two weeks when, because workmen were needed and because of Czecho-Slovak efforts in Petrograd, we were allowed to volunteer for work on farms or in ammunition factories.
I chose the latter and came to Kiev. I had not been in the city long, before I heard that Czech and Slovak prisoners were being organized to join a so-called Hussite legion whichwas made up of Czech and Slovak residents of Russia, who had already rendered valuable assistance to the Russians as scouts. The Russian authorities had been opposed to the plan at first, not caring to encourage revolutionaries, even though not Russian revolutionaries. However, in the end, a grudging consent was given. I wished to join, but was not permitted to leave my work.
Then the Revolution came, and, as the prisoners were freed, the Czechs and Slovaks flocked to their own colors, and I with them. If I live forever I shall never forget how I felt when I found myself among my own people, our red and white flag waving over us, and heard the band play our "Kde domov muj."
When we had to swear our oath of loyalty to Francis Joseph before leaving Austria-Hungary, all Czech and Slovak soldiers mumbled the words. When we swore the oath of obedience to Prof. Masaryk, "the littlefather," as we called him, who had come to Russia, we shouted it so joyously and loudly that the people from around came to see what all the noise was about.
I wasso happy now. Every morning I awakened with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart. For were we not going to free our dear, our native land, of the usurper? We again sang our native songs, which we had not been allowed to sing in the land of our birth; sang them so often that we came to be known as "The Singing Czecho-Slovaks." Whatever state we came from, Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, or Slovakia, we were quite united now, and had only one word for each other and that word was "Brother."
And in the spirit in which we sang, we also fought. No longer did the Germans and Magyars call us cowards. They now called us "red and white devils," because of the colorson our hats. At the famous charge at Zborov, there was almost a religious exaltation as we marched to the field singing the glorious hymn of the Hussites: "All Ye Warriors of God." Here we captured sixty-two officers, and three thousand one hundred and fifty soldiers, fifteen guns and many machine guns, turning most of the latter against the enemy.
But our bravery did little good, the Russians were deserting the army so fast.
In 1917, I was slightly wounded. This prevented my taking part in the terrible battle at Tarnapol, in Galicia, where our men were entirely abandoned by the Russian troops. It was a wonderful charge they made, the men rushing in where danger was thickest and resisting to the last, and the officers blowing out their brains rather than surrender.
When the Germans invaded Bessarabia, before preparing to resist them, we bound ourselves by a most sacred oath:
"In the name of our national honor, in the name of all that is most dear to us as men and as Czecho-Slovaks, with full realization of this step, we swear to fight alongside of our allies to the last drop of our blood, against all of our enemies, until we have obtained complete liberation of our Czecho-Slovak nation, until the Czech and Slovak lands are reunited into a free and independent Czecho-Slovak state, until our nation is absolutely mistress of her destinies.
"We solemnly promise, whatever may be the danger and whatever may be the circumstances, without fear and hesitation, never to abandon the sacred goal of our fight.
"As faithful and honorable soldiers, heirs of our noble history, cherishing the heroic deeds of our immortal chiefs and martyrs, Jan Hus and Jan Zizka of Trocnov, we promise to remain worthy of them, never to flee from battle, to shirk no danger, to obey the orders of our officers, to venerate our flags and standards,never and under no circumstances beg for our lives from our enemy and never to surrender with weapons in our hands, to love our companions as brothers and to give them aid in danger, to have no fear of death, to sacrifice all, even our lives, for the freedom of our fatherland.
"So freely, without pressure of any sort, we pledge ourselves to act, and so shall we act. Such is the duty imposed upon us by honor and fidelity toward our people and our country."
After the Bolsheviks gained complete control of the government, the Czecho-Slovak army numbered sixty thousand. We waited hoping that things would change for the better, until the disgusting Peace of Brest-Litovsk, in February, 1918. Then we could not but see that our only chance of continuing the fight for freedom was to get to France. Through Professor Masaryk, free passage to Vladivostok was granted us by the Bolsheviks.
It was no little thing that we undertook to do. It would have been a big enough enterprise, even under the most favorable conditions. There was a journey of over five thousand miles across Eastern Russia and Asia, and then across the Pacific, across Canada or the United States, and finally across the Atlantic. In other words, we were willing to undertake a trip around the world in order to fight for freedom. In the Russian part, we had to procure our trains and provisions, and negotiate with practically independent Soviets in every district.
Since concentration at stations was prohibited, we started for the Pacific in small detachments. Everywhere we were urged to join the Red Guard with promises of high pay and good living. But although we had little to eat, we refused the bribe. We were in demand, for afterwards, Gen. Kornilov, and Kaledines, the Cossack hetman, each tried to gain our help.Again we refused, unwilling to interfere in Russian internal affairs.
When we reached Penza, we had a disagreeable surprise. Being the last to leave the front, we were well armed and had many cannon, machine guns and other equipment worth hundreds of millions of dollars, that would otherwise have fallen into the hands of the Germans. These we were asked to surrender on orders from headquarters, retaining only a few rifles and a few hand grenades to each train. So anxious were we to leave Russia without a fight, that we obeyed the order.
Later we heard that about this same time in Irkutsk, a train division of our men was surrounded by three thousand of the Red Guard, mainly former German and Magyar prisoners, and under German officers, all well armed and with many machine guns. Our men had only one gun to every ten men, but when the German officer gave the command to shoot, the Czechsrushed barehanded at them, captured their guns, and in half an hour had control of the station.
Even then the Moscow authorities were begged by Masaryk, and by the French, British, and American consuls that our troops be allowed to proceed in peace. Instead, Trotsky ordered every Czecho-Slovak soldier caught with arms to be shot at sight.
At Vertunovka we had a long wait. We employed it in decorating the box cars in which we traveled, in ways to remind us of the old brave days of Jan Hus and Jan Zizka, when the Czechs of Bohemia held all of astonished Europe at bay for almost a quarter of a century. As we worked, we each resolved to prove ourselves worthy of these ancestors.
Some of the boys added inscriptions to the decorations, such as, "Long live Little Father Masaryk and the Allies," and put Czech and Slovak flags about so that our cars really lookedvery nice, each platoon striving to have theirs the best.
As we made our way, by fair means when we could, by force when necessary, we found Magyar and Germans in control everywhere. Our very own first conflict came when a Magyar in a train of prisoners hit one of our men with a piece of iron, injuring him very seriously. We thought him killed and rushed to the train and demanded the surrender of the murderer. This led to more trouble. We had few arms, but took up rocks and followed the train into the city, singing as we marched. The Soviet buildings were deserted when we reached them, and evidently in a hurry, for we found some rifles which we seized with thanksgiving.
After this delay we resolved to pay no more attention to delays ordered by the Bolsheviki, but to push on as quickly as possible to Vladivostok. Fighting now began in earnest. Everywhere success was with us. Our spiritwould allow of no defeat. When we were menaced, we took the enemy by surprise; we had set out to get to France and we intended getting to France, no matter what difficulties we had to meet and conquer. We seized trains; we took city after city. While the Bolshevik propaganda failed to appeal to us, it was not it so much we fought as the objection of its supporters to, and lack of comprehension of our love of country. We knew that the Magyars and the Germans who were with the Russian Bolsheviks, fought us not so much because of our lack of sympathy with the doctrines they professed, as because of our nationality.
In the meantime, our forces constantly grew by means of new recruits. Our fame grew also as we advanced. Sometimes the mere rumor that the Czecho-Slovaks were coming, caused the enemy to flee. And all through Siberia, we were welcomed by the real inhabitants as deliverers.By the end of two weeks, three thousand miles of railroad were in our hands.
Then, when finally we reached Vladivostok, on the Pacific, we found that we were not to go to France after all, that the Allies thought we had a more important work to do where we were, especially in keeping the railroad, and hence the wealth of Siberian grain and mineral, from reaching the Central Powers. This was also fighting for liberty, and, without a murmur, we accepted our new duty.
Itwas October, and Jozef's godfather had gone again to Bohemia, this time as a delegate representing the Slovak National Council. The Czecho-Slovak National Alliance and its army had been recognized formally some time before as an ally by the great powers and greater events were scheduled to follow.
When he reached beautiful "hundred-towered" Praha, the capital, he found the streets and coffee houses jammed with people. Every face had an expectant look in which anxiety and confidence were blended. Toward the end of the month their expectations were realized. The National Council took over the government of the Czecho-Slovak countries, Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, and Slovakia, all ofthem formerly belonging to the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy.
It was a bloodless revolution, for the Austrian Government realized the hopelessness of its position.
All the great sufferings through which they had passed—the hunger, the fear, the grief—were forgotten by the people in the great joy of their liberation. Old men embraced each other; old women wept in each other's arms with happiness that they had lived to see the day. People from all the states, with their slight variations of dialect, were there; Czechs, Moravians, Czecho-Silesians, and Slovaks. The ties of close kinship were felt as never before.
Crowds stood on the big St. Vaclav Square listening to the Proclamation of Independence from the steps of the splendid National Museum. When the reading came to an end, the people, with one voice, sang the ancientCzech choral to St. Vaclav, Bohemia's patron saint.
Almost every hour a new report came: now that the Emperor's Governor had fled; now that the Magyar soldiers, who had been stationed in the city, cared for nothing except to be allowed to return to Hungary; now that the commanders of the local garrison had put themselves at the disposal of the Czecho-Slovak government.
Similar scenes took place in the historical Old Town Square, around the splendid monument of John Hus, that three years before had had to be unveiled by stealth. Men, women, and children felt that the noble past of which Czechs have always been so proud, was come again. Pride swelled their hearts, too, that all that they were gaining had come to them through efforts and sacrifices of their own, so great that the world had been forced to recognize and admire.
On the following day the Slovak delegates were received officially, thus uniting the two branches of the Czecho-Slovak nation.
The first act of the new state was to declare a republican form of Government with Thomas Garigue Masaryk as President.
President Masaryk was to take up his official residence in the immense royal palace so long deserted. Carpenters and others were busy modernizing it.
This palace had lived through unusual vicissitudes of fortune. Already in the tenth century, a stone fortified palace stood there, but it was not until the reign of Bohemia's beloved King Charles I that it assumed something of its present form, being modeled by him after the Louvre of Paris. It was enlarged by King Vladislav, the principal hall being named after him. In Rudolph's time other Halls were added.
After the defeat of the White Mountain,when Bohemia lost her independence, it no longer served as a royal residence, and was practically deserted. In 1757, it was bombarded, to be rebuilt and enlarged by Empress Maria Theresa.
And now the greatest change of all: it was to be the home of the President of a thoroughly democratic state.
Many days following were festal days. People flocked to the churches, particularly to the Cathedral of St. Vitus, which is one of the great works of King Charles.
While the young people looked forward to the future, the old recalled the past.
"Ah, how King Charles in his heavenly home will rejoice," one bent old woman, supported on crutches, murmured.
"And saintly Vaclav, too," scarcely breathed another so emaciated that she looked like a moving shadow. "He'll be proud now that Bohemia is called after him the Realm of St.Vaclav. Ah, I must see once more those precious relics we have kept of him."
With difficulty she made her way to the Cathedral where St. Vaclav's helmet, sword, and coat of mail have been religiously preserved.
Jozef's godfather sent him several picture postcards reminding him of Jozef's hero, King Charles. One represented the historic stone bridge, which Charles had had built with such care that he did not live to see it finished. On this card he wrote:
"All the statues on the bridge have a dazed expression. I wonder what they think of the change."
Another card was of the old walls of Praha, working on which through the King's care saved a thousand men from starving in a time of famine.
"I walked past these fortifications early one morning," was the message, "and hundreds ofbirds were among the ruins, all singing the news of our glorious resurrection."
The third card showed Karluv Tyn, built by Charles for the protection of the crown jewels and the charters of Bohemia. This beautiful castle stands not far from Praha, on a rock of jasper a thousand feet above the River Mze. To it the King-Emperor sometimes retired for the meditative devotion which he found so helpful. On this card the message was the longest:
"Charles did more than build beautiful castles and splendid cathedrals. He welcomed men of learning and made higher education possible even for the poor by founding the University of Praha, the first university in all of Central Europe. He freed the land of robbers; he secured justice to the peasants by making it possible for them to appeal to the King from the decision of their own feudal lords. His name has come down to us reveredand beloved, because of the many evidences of his unselfish, constant thought for the people's welfare."
By a strange coincidence, on the very day that the last postcard came to Jozef in Slovakia, another reached him from his friend, Jaroslav. It was dated from the famous watering place, Carlsbad, in northern Bohemia, where Jaroslav had accompanied his father, who had some business there.
"The Germans here, who have largely control of things," it stated, "are angry at the turn affairs have taken. They clamor about the rights of the minority, they who never considered the rights of the Slavic majority. But I think they are calming down, for they see that they're going to get justice. The Czechs are not revengeful. If we treated them as they treated us—whew!" He said no more of the Germans, but humorously described some of the patients he had seen; some very fat, somevery thin, all expecting cure from digestive disturbances.
A few days before he left, Jozef's godfather took one more walk across the sixteen-arched statue decorated Charles Bridge (Karluv most), through the picturesque Little Side, with its quaint old-time palaces of nobles, up a steep and winding street to the Hradcany, as the group of buildings around the royal palace together with it, is called.
From these heights, Praha is seen in all its wondrous beauty lying on both sides of the River Vltava (Moldau). It seems an endless succession of parks, gardens, queer roofs that are the delight of every artist that sees them, and innumerable towers and steeples. Across the river he could see the rocky Vysehrad, the seat of the early rulers. It was there that Libusa, the reputed founder of Praha, made her famous prophecy: "Lo, before me I see a city whose glory reaches to the skies!"
He mused at the great richness not only in Bohemia's real historic past but in her legendary lore; how everything about the city has its story. On the hills towards which he was turned, Vlasta, the leader of an Amazon band, made her stand in the early days against Prince Premysl; near him was the tower of Daliborka, where a noble was once imprisoned and said to have found solace in a violin. Since then ghostly music is said to haunt the place. Of the alchemists who lived near by in the Street of Gold, a street of the tiniest, most brightly-hued houses imaginable, he recalled the strange tales told. In the very courts of the palace, legends mingled with history.
A peculiar feeling that he had never experienced before came over him. To live in Praha, he felt, was not the prosaic, everyday life he had always known; it was living a brightly colored romance too disturbing for him to getused to now. His own dear Slovakia, with its quiet, simple life, was better for him.
The next day the new President arrived from abroad, and was installed in office. That was the greatest day of all in Praha. The feeling of the multitude was expressed by one old man who said, "I shall weep no more for my dead, since they helped make the fairy tale come true that brutal force no longer rules, that a proud, deserving nation is freed at last from a bondage to which so long the world was indifferent."
THE END
Selections fromThe Page Company'sBooks for Young People
THE BLUE BONNET SERIES
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume$1.50
A TEXAS BLUE BONNET
ByCaroline E. Jacobs.
"The book's heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness."—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
BLUE BONNET'S RANCH PARTY
ByCaroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read.
"A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."—Boston Transcript.
BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON;Or, Boarding-School Days at Miss North's.
ByCaroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards.
"It is bound to become popular because of its wholesomeness and its many human touches."—Boston Globe.
BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE;Or, The New Home in the East.
ByCaroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards.
"It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their teens."—New York Sun.
BLUE BONNET—DÉBUTANTE
ByLela Horn Richards.
An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for Blue Bonnet.
THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES
ByHarrison Adams
Each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume$1.50
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO;Or, Clearing the Wilderness.
"Such books as this are an admirable means of stimulating among the young Americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of the Republic."—Boston Globe.
THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES;Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois.
"The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not only interesting but instructive as well and shows the sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance and trial produced."—American Tourist, Chicago.
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI;Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness.
"The story is told with spirit, and is full of adventure."—New York Sun.
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI;Or, In the Country of the Sioux.
"Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a capital one for boys."—Watchman Examiner, New York City.
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOWSTONE;Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders.
"There is plenty of lively adventure and action and the story is well told."—Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn.
THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA;Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest.
"The story is full of spirited action and contains much valuable historical information."—Boston Herald.
THE HADLEY HALL SERIES
ByLouise M. Breitenbach
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume$1.50
ALMA AT HADLEY HALL
"The author is to be congratulated on having written such an appealing book for girls."—Detroit Free Press.
ALMA'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
"It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things in girls' books."—Boston Herald.
ALMA'S JUNIOR YEAR
"The diverse characters in the boarding-school are strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and the action is never dull."—The Boston Herald.
ALMA'S SENIOR YEAR
"Incident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach's stories and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."—Boston Transcript.
THE GIRL'S OF FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES
ByHarriet Lummis Smith
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume$1.50
THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE
"A book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems to understand perfectly the girl character."—Boston Globe.
PEGGY RAYMOND'S VACATION
"It is a wholesome, hearty story."—Utica Observer.
PEGGY RAYMOND'S SCHOOL DAYS
The bode is delightfully written, and contains lots of exciting incidents.
FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES
ByCharles H. L. Johnston
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume>.00
FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS
"More of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way."—New York Sun.
"It is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and will prove interesting as well to the adults."—Lawrence Daily World.
FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS
"Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these famous Indians with the whites for the possession of America is a worthy addition to United States History."—New York Marine Journal.
FAMOUS SCOUTS
"It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys and young men, and while it entertains them it will also present valuable information in regard to those who have left their impress upon the history of the country."—The New London Day.
FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA
"The tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the dramas of the sea."—The Pittsburgh Post.
FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES OF THE BORDER
"The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual adventure."—Cleveland Leader.
FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS OF AMERICA
"The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and bravest adventures of which the world has known and of discoveries which have changed the face of the old world as well as of the new."—Brooklyn Daily Eagle.
HILDEGARDE-MARGARET SERIES
ByLaura E. Richards
Eleven Volumes
The Hildegarde-Margaret Series, beginning with "Queen Hildegarde" and ending with "The Merryweathers," make one of the best and most popular series of books for girls ever written.
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume$1.50The eleven volumes boxed as a set$16.50
LIST OF TITLES