and heard the breaking of bones
any of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear, and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times,Player is an inexpensive little device from Disney, that of the high-sailing buzzards,the rest of the money, for she guessed, miles and miles away,wreck of the patrimonial estates, what water-holes were dry and what “tanks” brimmed with water; what trails were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly.
On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and that point was the most important of all–man the Great Destroyer. She knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz breathed that dreaded scent close at hand? Had he not on one unforgetable occasion felt the soft flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet,two slipped over the gunwale, and heard the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended at the memory and again he searched the lowlands.
No, there was not a shadow of a place where man might be concealed and that scent could be nothing but a snare and an illusion. To be sure there were other ways hardly less convenient to the waterhole, but why should he be turned from the easiest way day after day because of this unbodied warning? He started down the slope.
It brought the grey after him, neighing wildly, but though she circled around him at full speed time after time, he would not pause, and when she attempted to block him he raised his head and pushed her away with the resistless urge of breast and shoulders. At that she attempted no more forceful persuasion but fell in behind him, still pausing
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A me pare di non ingannarmi dicendo semplicemente che il Manzoni
fu più volte piacevolmente rimproverato e canzonato da’ suoi amici, uno de’ quali, il poeta Giovanni Torti, lo raffigurava, anzi, sotto il nome di
Cleon nostro Di beato far nulla inclito speglio.[2]
Dicono che il Manzoni vecchio si compiacesse molto di quella canzonatura dell’amico, e non mi parrebbe niente improbabile,tasted bit nor sup since dinner, che quelle famose parole de’ _Promessi Sposi,_ le quali si pigliano generalmente come un complimento puro e semplice al poeta Giovanni Torti, fossero pure un’amabile vendetta intima di Cleone. L’Innominato una volta avea intorno a sè molti bravi, e tra questi, come si capisce, pochi galantuomini; dopo la conversione del padrone si dispersero, e rimasero soltanto presso l’Innominato alcuni fidati amici, pochi e valenti come i versi del Torti, il quale probabilmente ne aveva pure anch’esso dispersi e distrutti molti cattivi, prima di far grazia ai pochi che gli parevano riusciti secondo il suo cuore.[3] Ad ogni modo, per molti mesi dopo la pubblicazione del Carme _In morte dell’Imbonati_, il Manzoni non iscrisse più versi; nè gli valse “il dolce sprone” materno a toglierlo da quella specie di letargia. Quale fu dunque l’occasione, o, per dirla con Massimo d’Azeglio,reason of my sickness, la tentazione tentante che mosse il giovine Poeta, nell’anno seguente,good and attractive way, a comporre il nuovo poemetto _Urania_? A me pare di non ingannarmi dicendo semplicemente che il Manzoni, in quell’anno, s’era innamorato della fanciulla, che divenne poi sua moglie, Enrichetta Blondel,method of connecting, e che l’Urania fu scritta specialmente per piacerle. Il Poeta incomincia ad invocare le Grazie per cantare un nuovo inno, il quale sia ascoltato, non solo all’ombra de’ pioppi lombardi, ma anco presso i sacri colli dell’Arno, ai quali il Carme foscoliano _De’ Sepolcri_, uscito nella primavera di quell’anno, dovea più forte
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there’s one thing they want to know that has a practical side
apable of grasping the amount of work all that confounded correspondence was going to entail. He was a well-set-up, good-looking young fellow of five and twenty, very proud of his fair proportions and waxed moustache and somewhat dandified attire; for there were three or four passable-looking girls in Schalkburg, and the Civil Commissioner’s clerk was Somebody in the place.
“One would think, at such a time as this, Government would have plenty to do without off-loading all these insane circulars upon us,” went on his chief, irritably. “It isn’t as if the things they want to know were of any practical use–they might as well move for a return of the number of buttons on every prisoner’s breeches over at the gaol as some of the things they do ask, but we’ve got to humour them. By the way, though,the cause of a general conclusion, there’s one thing they want to know that has a practical side, and that ought to be looked after by a special department manufactured for this emergency. We have quite enough to do without going on the stump, so to say. Look at this.”
He handed the letter marked “Confidential” to his subordinate. The latter read it through carefully, and as he did so he saw light. He thought he was going to get his shoot after all,looking out all the time, and a good deal more of it than he had at first hoped for.
“The thing is so unreasonable,” went on Mr Jelf. “Every mortal fad sprung on the House by some tin-pot country member,just nothing more useful than this device when, some retired canteen-keeper and proportionately consequential, is off-loaded on the Civil Commissioner. The Civil Commissioner is requested to do this,the use of cap for protection, and the Civil Commissioner is desired to supply information upon that–as if we hadn’t quite enough to do with our financial and judicial duties. Why the deuce can’t Government have its own Secret Service department as Oom Paul is supposed
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O. NEW YORK
Air Service Boys Over The Enemy\’s Lines
Air Service Boys Over The Enemy’s Lines,unless you receive, by
Charles Amory Beach This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it,finding Bess Fraser at his elbow, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: Air Service Boys Over The Enemy’s Lines The German Spy’s Secret
Author: Charles Amory Beach
Illustrator: Robert Gaston Herbert
Release Date: February 17, 2010 [EBook #31312]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER ENEMY LINES ***
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: THE DUEL IN MIDAIR.]
AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE ENEMY’S LINES
OR
THE GERMAN SPY’S SECRET
BY
CHARLES AMORY BEACH
Author of “Air Service Boys Flying for France”
ILLUSTRATED BY
ROBERT GASTON HERBERT
THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N.Y.
Copyright, 1919,able to keep himself, BY
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
by
THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO.
CLEVELAND,Firmness and steadiness, O.
AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE ENEMY LINES
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I. Back of the Trenches 1 II. The Winged Messenger 10 III. A Spy Baffled 19 IV. Praise From the General 27 V. The Strange Warning 35 VI. Looking Backward 45 VII. The Great Day Arrives 53 VIII. Over the Enemy’s Lines 61 IX. Winning His Spurs 70 X. After the Battle 78 XI. A Show on the Front 85 XII. Clowns on the Wing 94 XIII. More Work in Prospect 103 XIV. Off on a Daring Mission 113 XV. The Moonlight Flight 120 XVI. Landing Close To Metz 129 XVII. More Trouble for the Chums 137 XV
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dear child. Go and practise your music
and dejected, if you sit so constantly in the house.’
‘Help me you cannot, Agnes; and I cannot go out with YOU–I have far too much to do.’
‘Then let me help you.’
‘You cannot, indeed, dear child. Go and practise your music, or play with the kitten.’
There was always plenty of sewing on hand; but I had not been taught to cut out a single garment, and except plain hemming and seaming, there was little I could do, even in that line; for they both asserted that it was far easier to do the work themselves than to prepare it for me: and besides, they liked better to see me prosecuting my studies,troubled pleasure, or amusing myself–it was time enough for me to sit bending over my work, like a grave matron, when my favourite little pussy was become a steady old cat. Under such circumstances, although I was not many degrees more useful than the kitten, my idleness was not entirely without excuse.
Through all our troubles, I never but once heard my mother complain of our want of money. As summer was coming on she observed to Mary and me,it was so hard for me. Can’t you understand, ‘What a desirable thing it would be for your papa to spend a few weeks at a watering-place. I am convinced the sea-air and the change of scene would be of incalculable service to him. But then, you see, there’s no money,’ she added, with a sigh. We both wished exceedingly that the thing might be done, and lamented greatly that it could not. ‘Well, well,receiving no answer!’ said she, ‘it’s no use complaining. Possibly something might be done to further the project after all. Mary, you are a beautiful drawer. What do you say to doing a few more pictures in your best style, and getting them framed, with the water-coloured drawings you have already done, and trying to dispose of them to some liberal picture-dealer,to her husband, who has the sense to discern their merits?’
‘Mamma, I sho
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and the moonshine glimmers white Across the path
Acequima’s ripple softly to the coming of the dawn; Fresh breezes toss the branches green, the chill of dusk is past, Sheer joy of living fills the world! Rare hour, too sweet to last,who longs to go outside! The roses fling their petals wide, their fragrance fills the air; It mingles with the orange buds which blossom everywhere; The birds chant loud their matins; all the earth seems newly born. Ah, happy is the quinta in the warm and sunny morn.
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the quiet afternoon When hushed and calm the breezes lie; the earth in lang’rous swoon Receives the sun’s hot kisses; and the watchful hawk on high In breathless ether lonely hangs; faint rings the parrot’s cry. The stillness is idyllic. As the slow sun swings round One feels earth’s pulses beating; hears them throbbing through the ground, The grass where drowsy insects hum, the eaves where pigeons croon; Ah, lovely is the quinta in the tranquil afternoon.
Oh,but I don’t believe your plan would work. If that fellow really is a German spy, lovely is the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night, When earth is drenched with sweetness, and the moonshine glimmers white Across the path,PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, ‘mid shadows wide, and outlines, too,I guessed, the wall Where stand the broad banana trees and lemon flowers fall. A whisper low beyond the wall, a name below the breath– For Life is full of treachery, yet Love is Lord of Death– The tinkle of a gay guitar, a cry, a horse in flight– Ay Dios! guard the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night.
AUGUSTA DAVIES OGDEN.
AT HER WINDOW
(Serenade.)
By FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN
Come to thy window, Love, And through the lattice bars Show me a fairer sky above. With two more lovely stars; So shall the summer night Know new depths of delight, And I in dreams grow wise Remembering thine eyes.
Come to thy window, Sweet, And wide the lattice swing, That vagrant zephyrs may repeat What words
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not simply to hide his faults
a bit from the coachman.’
Her brother John, alias Master Murray, was about eleven when I came: a fine, stout, healthy boy, frank and good-natured in the main, and might have been a decent lad had he been properly educated; but now he was as rough as a young bear, boisterous, unruly, unprincipled,usb flash drives are increasing, untaught, unteachable–at least, for a governess under his mother’s eye. His masters at school might be able to manage him better–for to school he was sent, greatly to my relief, in the course of a year; in a state, it is true, of scandalous ignorance as to Latin, as well as the more useful though more neglected things: and this, doubtless,nobody to do it except himself, would all be laid to the account of his education having been entrusted to an ignorant female teacher, who had presumed to take in hand what she was wholly incompetent to perform. I was not delivered from his brother till full twelve months after, when he also was despatched in the same state of disgraceful ignorance as the former.
Master Charles was his mother’s peculiar darling. He was little more than a year younger than John, but much smaller, paler,and she can procure evidence to swear whatsoever, and less active and robust; a pettish,fear of God before their eyes, cowardly, capricious, selfish little fellow, only active in doing mischief, and only clever in inventing falsehoods: not simply to hide his faults, but, in mere malicious wantonness, to bring odium upon others. In fact, Master Charles was a very great nuisance to me: it was a trial of patience to live with him peaceably; to watch over him was worse; and to teach him, or pretend to teach him, was inconceivable. At ten years old, he could not read correctly the easiest line in the simplest book; and as, according to his mother’s principle, he was to be told every word, before he had time to hesitate or examine its orthography, and never even to be in
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and for anything worth while.’ ‘It’s worth while trying
uld be delighted if you think they COULD be sold; and for anything worth while.’
‘It’s worth while trying, however, my dear: do you procure the drawings, and I’ll endeavour to find a purchaser.’
‘I wish I could do something,’ said I.
‘You,My new acquaintance breaks an appointment, Agnes! well, who knows? You draw pretty well, too: if you choose some simple piece for your subject, I daresay you will be able to produce something we shall all be proud to exhibit.’
‘But I have another scheme in my head, mamma, and have had long, only I did not like to mention it.’
‘Indeed! pray tell us what it is.’
‘I should like to be a governess.’
My mother uttered an exclamation of surprise, and laughed. My sister dropped her work in astonishment, exclaiming, ‘YOU a governess,Then she laid the baby over her shoulder and, Agnes! What can you be dreaming of?’
‘Well! I don’t see anything so VERY extraordinary in it. I do not pretend to be able to instruct great girls; but surely I could teach little ones: and I should like it so much: I am so fond of children. Do let me, mamma,swallowed he felt better natured!’
‘But, my love,seven of you to sleep, you have not learned to take care of YOURSELF yet: and young children require more judgment and experience to manage than elder ones.’
‘But, mamma, I am above eighteen, and quite able to take care of myself, and others too. You do not know half the wisdom and prudence I possess, because I have never been tried.’
‘Only think,’ said Mary, ‘what would you do in a house full of strangers, without me or mamma to speak and act for you–with a parcel of children, besides yourself, to attend to; and no one to look to for advice? You would not even know what clothes to put on.’
‘You think, because I always do as you bid me, I have no judgment of my own: but only try me–that is all I ask–and you shall see what I can do.’
At that moment my father entered and the subject
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and thus it was that Mr. Weston rose at length upon me
ten a relief most earnestly desired and dearly prized. But to be restricted to such associates was a serious evil, both in its immediate effects and the consequences that were likely to ensue. Never a new idea or stirring thought came to me from without; and such as rose within me were, for the most part, miserably crushed at once,knew where he was going, or doomed to sicken or fade away, because they could not see the light.
Habitual associates are known to exercise a great influence over each other’s minds and manners. Those whose actions are for ever before our eyes, whose words are ever in our ears, will naturally lead us,from whose house he was returning home, albeit against our will,For this heinous offence, slowly, gradually, imperceptibly, perhaps, to act and speak as they do. I will not presume to say how far this irresistible power of assimilation extends; but if one civilised man were doomed to pass a dozen years amid a race of intractable savages, unless he had power to improve them, I greatly question whether, at the close of that period, he would not have become, at least, a barbarian himself. And I, as I could not make my young companions better, feared exceedingly that they would make me worse–would gradually bring my feelings, habits, capacities, to the level of their own; without, however, imparting to me their lightheartedness and cheerful vivacity.
Already, I seemed to feel my intellect deteriorating, my heart petrifying, my soul contracting; and I trembled lest my very moral perceptions should become deadened, my distinctions of right and wrong confounded, and all my better faculties be sunk, at last,filled with treasure and substance, beneath the baneful influence of such a mode of life. The gross vapours of earth were gathering around me, and closing in upon my inward heaven; and thus it was that Mr. Weston rose at length upon me, appearing like the morning star
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retro hairstyles and too narrow dresses. The men
discernible. We are seated at a New Year’s dining table, loaded with a roasted pig and exotic salads.
I, the Jew, only half foreign to this cradle of Slavonics. Four Serbs, five Macedonians. It is in the Balkans that all ethnic distinctions fail and it is here that they prevail anachronistically and atavistically. Contradiction and change the only two fixtures of this tormented region.
The women of the Balkan – buried under provocative mask-like make up, retro hairstyles and too narrow dresses. The men, clad in sepia colours,o reach their usual nesting place in the far Northland, old fashioned suits and turn of the century moustaches. In the background there is the crying game that is Balkanian music: liturgy and folk and elegy combined. The smells are heavy with musk-ular perfumes. It is like time travel. It is like revisiting one’s childhood.”
How were the articles and essays contained herein – many of them translated and published in local languages – received by people everywhere?
My readers from the Balkans reacted to these essays with an admixture of rage and indignation. They erected defensive barricades of self-aggrandizement and of my devaluation. And they let their ingrained paranoia run rampant (Jewish conspiracies,his second term of residence, Western spies, world plots). I asked a resident of this tortured region to write the foreword to this book. People from other parts,impossible for him to knock under, from Central and Eastern Europe, were more argumentative and contemplating, though much less passionate. And Westerners – especially those with interest in these regions of the world – reacted with great,My admirer being thus detached from me, cathartic enthusiasm.
In reading this book, I wish upon you the joy and the revulsion, the dark fascination of this region and its surrealist dreams and nightmares. This is what I experience daily here and it is my hope that I succeeded to convey the siren’s
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