ESKINDALE MANOR is in Kent and not far from Maidstone. You reach it by a hedge-bordered road that goes over two brooks and then climbs a long ridge that meanders lazily through this most delightful part of the garden of England. On the side of the ridge sits the manor smiling contentedly at the velvet country below.
THE mechanical exigencies of magazine publication compel printing of contents long before issue. Hence “MacLean’s” readers, before perusing this, will have seen Parliament assembled at Ottawa, read the Speech from the Throne, received some knowledge of Premier Borden’s “Navy” policy, learned something of his designs concerning Tariff, Railways, Bank Act Revision, etc., and found Sir Wilfrid Laurier and his followers fearing that Ministers are incompetent.
Philadelphia soon will be the first city on the continent to have a hotel equipped appropriately to receive guests who may arrive at the hostelry in aeroplanes. On top of the main portion of the structure, a score or more stories above the street and higher than the top of any other building in the vicinity, there has been erected a commodious landing platform, upon which all forms of aerial craft will be capable of alighting with perfect safety.
UP TO THE TIME that Crœsus Plain bought six pairs of silk stockings over the counter of his own huge department store from a little white slip of a thing with frightened eyes, the Recording Angel had made few black marks on the page of his soul’s history.
Tents pitched—deep in the desert drear, Away from Cities, far, As streamed a Light through the velvet night, Three pilgrims saw a Star. A star of purest, pulsing light, And glistening as a gem, With steadfast blaze its shimmering rays Beckoned to Belthlehem.
NOT long ago a big business house in the United States made an interesting proposal. It worked out also to be a novel experiment. The proposition concerned holidays in general and employees in particular. In a word it was “winter vacations.”
You submit to the kneading and tapping over the sore spot in your vitals with as good grace—meaning as little grunting—as possible, and wait with anxiety for the verdict. The specialist looks up at you over his eye-glasses, seemingly to see how you will take it.
UP ON THE SECOND FLOOR of the big Power Building on Craig Street, Montreal, and at one end of an expansive board room, which occupies an entire corner of the flat, there sits at a desk a grave and dignified personage, who rises slowly on your entrance and greets you with a peculiarly solemn smile.
During the past year Uncle Sam gathered enough Douglas fir seed to plant 750,000,000 trees. The seed was planted on burned-out tracts of the National reserves that had been devastated by fires in the past three years. Forest fires were unusually destructive during the summer months of 1910 and 1911, despite the large army of rangers constantly on patrol.
A CANADIAN country winter begins, to all intents and purposes, when preparation for it becomes necessary. In the purple twilights which mark the forerunners of winter days, one comes in from the outside world intoxicated by the cold, fall air, and conscious mainiy of but two sensations—sleep and hunger.
CAPTAIN STUBBS sat before his roaring box-stove eating pea-nuts and throwing the shells at the cat. It was a cold windy day outside, with a wild sea booming on the shore and a wild sky bending threateningly above the winter world. But inside all was snug and cozy and comfortable.
That the net return on capital invested in railways is increasing more rapidly than the net return from manufactures appears from figures compiled by the Bureau of Railway Economics in Washington, D.C., established by the railways of the country for the scientific study of transportation problems.
“ONE of the dreams of my early manhood was to visit and paint the Rockies, about whose magnificence all travellers raved. I dreamed this over and over again until the vision took form in finding myself, very early one summer’s morning, at The Gap.’
“JUST the same I notice you ain’t troubled over yourself to get married,” Shorty remarked, continuing a conversation that had lapsed some few minutes before. Smoke, sitting on the edge of the sleeping robe and examining the feet of a dog he had rolled snarling on its back in the snow, did not answer.
FROM railway porter in Glasgow, Scotland, to pastor of Regent’s Square (Presbyterian) Church, London, England, is a long step. To then, suddenly give up the notable pastorate, over a whim, doff all gowns of the “cloth,” and rise to be one of the most famous undenominational evangelists, known in the four corners of the globe; such in tabloid form is the life of the, Rev. John McNeill, orator, preacher and evangelist, now of Liverpool, England, and who recently received a call to the pulpit of Cooke’s Church, Toronto, Canada.
THE man conscious of that power which makes him master of the situation, has his task half performed by the manner in which he approaches it. He who walks up boldly and faces his difficulty without wincing does not have so hard a time in overcoming it as the man who goes to it timidly, wavering between fears and doubts.
WE reproduce here a remarkably prophetic article on a question that has been with us for nearly fifty years and seems likely to go on for another half century. The writer, Mr. W. Dewart, who had been a schoolmaster and merchant at Fenelon Falls, Ontario, divided with the father of W. F. Maclean, M.P., the honor of inspiring the National Policy.
THE attitude with which we approach our work, whether with hope and courage, or despair, has everything to do with our success. If the health drops, the mind drops, and then the quality of the work drops, too. There is a loss of enthusiasm, of zest, of buoyancy, which acts disastrously on achievement.
MY INTEREST in finding a “good fellow” was neither scientific nor literary. It was personal. I had been called one. Long ago it was my ambition to be called one. I made good—so far as getting the title. Inside, I knew I wasn’t guilty. There were two or three others on the inside.
BE NOT a great stenographer, or great bookkeeper, professor, merchant, farmer or doctor, merely, but a great man,—every inch a king. The man who is drowned in his vocation, lost in his calling, is of very little use in any community. No man can be truly great until he outgrows the vocation which gives him bread and butter.
A devout Scotchman declared: “For twenty years I hae been praying the Lord to gie me a gude opeenion o’ my self'.” HOW few people appreciate what real self respect means; that it is an integral part of man, and that when it is gone, the man is gone. If children were trained to know and to appreciate what self respect really means, character would be revolutionized.
“SUPPOSE that all the new toys in the world—all the tin horns and engines, all the dolls and doll houses, all the boats and Noah’s arks, and all the other things that you wind up and let run across the floor—suppose these were gathered together in one place and were placed around so you could see them all and play with them.
COLONEL Malcolm, D. S. O., has just written an interesting text book on the Bohemia campaign of 1866 being part of a series of books on campaigns and their lessons. A reference to the great Von Moltke disproves the theory that the great works of men are done before they are 40.
The first edition of 500,000 of “Their Yesterdays,” by Harold Bell Wright has been exhausted and unquestionably the book will be the year’s best seller. It was only ten or twelve years ago that Mr. Wright was a thousand-dollar-a-year preacher in the Western States.
No Public Man is Quite Safe From the Attacks of Anarchists and Cranks Unless Precautionary Measures are Taken for His Protection
THE attempt to assassinate Theodore Roosevelt at Milwaukee and the subsequent report that extraordinary measures are being taken in consequence to protect American public men have served to draw attention to the fact that in these days no public man is ever quite safe from the attack of anarchist or crank.
One of the Paris Creators Tells of the System Which She Follows in Evolving a New Gown—Novel Methods of Creation
A FEW men and women in Paris create the fashions of the world for women. One of the leaders is Madame Paquin. The woman who is fortunate enough and rich enough to have her dresses made by Paquin is generally one or two years ahead of styles in this country.
Rise of New Type of Theatre and Photo Plays Creates New Profession of “Moving Picture Actors” and Yields Big Returns
THE public is at last awakening to the fact that the early twentieth century has evolved an entirely new form of dramatic entertainment. At the present moment the American people are spending $500,000 a day on moving-picture shows. There are at least 20,000 places in the United States that are devoted to this form of popular amusement.
Confessions of a Newspaper Writer who Served Under the Master Faker of the Business—How Stories are Colored by Sensational Press
The American Magazine for November contains the confessions of a newspaper writer “who, for twelve years served under the master faker of the business.” The name of the master in question is “Berghand.” By way of introduction the writer says:
Stick to Your Own Business—Because You Are Successful in One Line is no Indication that You can Conquer in All Fields
THE Knox Automobile Company attributes its present financial troubles to having embarked in the truck business. So long as it confined itself to making a fine pleasure car all was well. But going into another, though allied line of business, brought serious trouble.