Ruby: A Story of the Australian Bush

“As I lay a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, Merrie sang the birde as she sat upon the spraye! There came a noble knyghte, With his hauberke shynynge brighte, And his gallan...

“We shall think on Christmas morning Of our dear ones far away, Wafting them the tender wishes That, alas! we cannot say; Longing for their presence with us, Eye to eye, and han...

She turns the card with its illuminated wreath of holly and conventional glistening snow scene this way and that. “It’s very pretty,” the little girl murmurs admiringly. “But wh...

Crowning joy has come at last to Ruby. Mrs. Kirke’s expected letter, backed by another from her son, has come, inviting the Thornes to spend the first week of the New Year with...

“I kissed thee when I went away On thy sweet eyes--thy lips that smiled. I heard thee lisp thy baby lore-- Thou wouldst not learn the word farewell. God’s angels guard thee ever...

“There came a glorious morning, such a one As dawns but once a season. Mercury On such a morning would have flung himself From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings To so...

Jack’s card is placed upright on the mantel-piece of Ruby’s bedroom, its back leaning against the wall, and before it stands a little girl with a troubled face, and a perplexed...

In the sitting-room of an old-fashioned house in Edinburgh a little brown-haired, brown-eyed girl is dancing about in an immense state of excitement. She is a merry-looking litt...

“This is our little Australian, May,” the elder lady says, stretching out her hand to Ruby. “Ruby, darling, this is Miss Leslie. Perhaps Jack may have told you about her.”

That is a long, long day to Ruby. From Glengarry they can watch far away the flames, like so many forked and lurid tongues of fire, leaping up into the still air and looking str...