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قراءة كتاب Southern Stories Retold from St. Nicholas
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SOUTHERN STORIES
RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS

NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1907
Copyright, 1889, 1890, 1891, 1892, 1894, 1898, 1900, 1902, 1903, 1907,
by The Century Co.
THE DE VINNE PRESS
CONTENTS
PAGE | ||
A Real Uncle Remus Story | Frontispiece | |
His Hero | Margaret Minor | 3 |
Jericho Bob | Anna Eichberg King | 18 |
How We Bought Louisiana | Helen Lockwood Coffin | 28 |
The City that Lives Outdoors | W. S. Harwood | 34 |
Queer American Rivers | F. H. Spearman | 52 |
The Watermelon Stockings | Alice Caldwell Hegan | 65 |
The "'Gator" | Clarence B. Moore | 80 |
The Earthquake at Charleston | Ewing Gibson | 96 |
Hiding Places in War Times | J. H. Gore | 102 |
St. Augustine | Frank R. Stockton | 108 |
Catching Terrapin | Alfred Kappes | 126 |
"Locoed" | Edward Marshall | 130 |
A Divided Duty | M. A. Cassidy | 165 |
The "Walking-Beam Boy" | L. E. Stofiel | 178 |
The Creature with No Claws | Joel Chandler Harris | 185 |
SOUTH
Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-trees;
Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens
Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest.
Longfellow.
HIS HERO
BY MARGARET MINOR
It was an October afternoon, and through Indian summer's tulle-like haze a low-swinging sun sent shafts of scarlet light at the highest peaks of the Blue Ridge. The sweet-gum leaves looked like blood-colored stars as they floated slowly to the ground, and brown chestnuts gleamed satin-like through their gaping burs; while over all there rested a dense stillness, cut now and then by the sharp yelp of a dog as he scurried through the bushes after a rabbit.
Surrounded by this splendid autumn beauty stood Mountain Top Inn, near the crest of the Blue Ridge in Rockfish Gap, its historical value dating from the time when Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, after a long and spirited discussion in one of its low-ceiled rooms, decided upon the location of the University of Virginia.
On the porch of this old inn there now sat a little boy, idly swinging a pair of sun-tanned legs. Occasionally he tickled an old liver-colored hound that lay dozing in a limp heap; but being rewarded only by toothless snaps at very long intervals, he finally grew tired of this amusement, and stretching himself out on his back, he began to dream with wide-open eyes. At these dream-times, when he let his thoughts loose, they always bore him to the very same field, and here his fancy painted pictures with the vivid colors of a boy's imagination: pictures so strong that they left him flushed and tingling with pride; again, pictures that brought a cool, choking feeling to his throat; and at times pictures that made his childish mouth quiver and droop. Among all of these thought-born scenes, at