Christine: A Fife Fisher Girl

The summer had been full of interest and excitement, but it was over. There was the infallible sense of ended summer, even at noonday; and the dahlias and hollyhocks, dripping i...

The dead sailor, Has peace that none may gain who live; And rest about him, that no love can give, And over him, while life and death shall be, The light and sound, and darkness...

Tomorrow is always another day, always a new day, and as long as we live, always our day. It will bring us our little freight of good or evil, and we must accept it, our salvati...

Nearly two years had passed since James Ruleson's death, and Christine was facing an embarrassing condition. She was nearly without money. During the severe illness which follow...

Neil did not find it convenient on his return northward, to call again at the home in Culraine. His mother was disappointed, and fretted to Christine about the neglect. His fath...

Perhaps Christine was not so brave as her father thought, but she had considered the likelihood of such a situation, and had decided that there was no dealing with it, except in...

And if it is not tightly clasped, and well guarded, it soon fades away, especially if doubt or question come near it. The heart, which is never weary of recalling its sorrows, s...

It was a cold winter day at the end of January, and a streak of white rain was flying across the black sea. Christine stood at the window, gazing at her brother's old boat edgin...

The winds go up and down upon the sea, And some they lightly clasp, entreating kindly, And waft them to the port where they would be: And other ships they buffet long and blindl...

Roberta Ruleson was the last person in the world Christine expected to see. She came in smiling, and with outstretched hand said, "Dear Christine, tell me that you are glad to s...

The next morning the women of the village were early at the pier to watch the boats come in. They were already in the offing, their gunwales deep in the water, and rising heavil...

Friends, who have wandered with me through England, and Scotland, and old New York, come now to Fife, and I will tell you the story of Christina Ruleson, who lived in the little...

I remember the black wharves and the boats, And the sea tides tossing free; And the fishermen with bearded lips, And the beauty and mystery of the ships, And the magic of the sea.

Not long before the breaking out of the present European war, I was in London, and needed a typist, so I went to a proper Intelligence Office on the Strand, and left a request d...