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In a little place called Le Monastier, in a pleasant highland valley fifteen miles from Le Puy, I spent about a month of fine days. Monastier is notable for the making of lace, for drunkenness, for freedom of language, and for unparalleled political dissension. There are adherents of each of the four French parties-Legitimists, Orleanists, Imperialists, and Republicans-in this little mountain-town; and they all hate, loathe, decry, and calumniate each other. Except for business purposes, or to give each other the lie in a tavern brawl, they have laid aside even the civility of speech. 'Tis a mere mountain Poland. In the midst of this Babylon I found myself a rallying-point; every one was anxious to be kind and helpful to the stranger. This was not merely from the natural hospitality of mountain people, nor even from the surprise with which I was regarded as a man living of his own free will in Le Monastier, when he might just as well have lived anywhere else in this big world; it arose a good deal from my projected excursion southward through the Cevennes. A traveller of my sort was a thing hitherto unheard of in that district. I was looked upon with contempt, like a man who should project a journey to the moon, but yet with a respectful interest, like one setting forth for the inclement Pole. All were ready to help in my preparations; a crowd of sympathisers supported me at the critical moment of a bargain; not a step was taken but was heralded by glasses round and celebrated by a dinner or a breakfast.
Samuel Carvelus never came home from the logging mill that evening. The rushing river claimed him as its own. His wife Megan and nine year old daughter Shiloh received word there was an accident; Samuel was killed saving the life of Jacob Turner, an eighteen year old boy just starting out in the logging business. No man could have done what Samuel did in saving this young life. He filled his lungs with air, dived into the rushing river, and struggled to dodge the floating timbers. Beneath the timbers he searched savagely for Jacob's body. Numbed by the cold raging river, the fierceness of the current thrust his body forward; his lungs began to crave for air, but dare not surface. He spotted the boy's body dangling from a jagged rock like a rag doll. He aligned himself and allowed the river to force his body toward the boy just as Jacob's shirt tore loose from the rock, Samuel grabbed hold of his arm; he scanned the surface for a break from the rushing logs. Daylight appeared between the rock and the banks. He pushed upward to the surface hanging tight to Jacob's limp body. He shoved the boy up on the embankment, four men hoisted the boy to safety, but it was too late for Samuel, the swiftness of the logs slammed into his back crushing his body while the raging current sucked him under.
I am reprinting here, in response to requests, certain recent experiences in Great Britain and France. These were selected in the hope of conveying to American readers some idea of the atmosphere, of "what it is like" in these countries under the immediate shadow of the battle clouds. It was what I myself most wished to know. My idea was first to send home my impressions while they were fresh, and to refrain as far as possible from comment and judgment until I should have had time to make a fuller survey. Hence I chose as a title for these articles, -intended to be preliminary, "A Traveller in War-Time." I tried to banish from my mind all previous impressions gained from reading. I wished to be free for the moment to accept and record the chance invitation or adventure, wherever met with, at the Front, in the streets of Paris, in Ireland, or on the London omnibus. Later on, I hoped to write a book summarizing the changing social conditions as I had found them.
A storybook and toy all in one for children to enjoy for hours of fun! With a 12 piece card puzzle play mat, 3D shed, kennel, fences and a giant tree to make out of card and 8 quality toy cats and dogs.
Frank Richard Stockton was a popular 19th century American author who remains best known for writing a series of acclaimed children's fairy tales. His books are still read across the world today.
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