... OUR SHORT STORY. TERESA : A STORY OF A STOLEN CHILD. A lovely baby. F—pnuy.“qdw. A veritable cherub. Such saft round arme, such clear. fllflv&lfl.ufl.fl*hy-tb.‘bhbweh.b.udnh,dhhfihk“bvhgly to the broad, white brow. “Y-—,-ym?‘fll:pdlhfi.'h layon a in a private ...

... OUR SHORT STORY, MY UNCLE'S SPIRIT. Spiritualism has always appeared 0 e & craze, and spirilualisis a set OL Crazy peopue, or, even worse, a lot of trichsiers. Fernaps nois re to be found in the ranks, and gue seg Prays on the credulities of the other ...

... Short story challenge IF you fancy yourself as a writer of that most difficuit form of fiction, the short story, now is the time to get busy. The Society of Sussex Authors is helping organise a competition for short ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. “It’s only Lord Ormsworth’s car. He's got a big house party at the Abbey, and takes his guests about the country—Ha 1’ The car stopped abruptly, backed, and then with, as it were, a mighty leap, hurled itself aud its occupants into ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. «MY FIRST SHOT.” m’Whfllß th Bl})'do:i:w question, uf n that as she leaned her aching head against the coal wimdow panc and gazed out at the beautiful green meadows of she Dunfih. homestead. The blackbirdsand thrustes were trilling their ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. THE STOLEN “HEAD.” A SECRET SOCIETY STORY. The last of the gucsts had departed. Dorotiiy Weaham, her lips parted with pleasure, desceuded the wide staircase towards the library to w.sh her father good-night, and the recollection came ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. territ Bat the old man, who was between lin .N—\p«;‘*lr:%” y&::f:q,l,ng::*; e . = e e ety - A R T -M‘W Fonboie gy ';;— 1.8 B ‘w»,\lwwmtn e | ~* ...

... Short Story: Na November 21 Edgar Wallace's famous story, is drawing to its end in the weekly radio eerial, On November 21 a new feature begins, This has been specially written for broadcasting by Maurice Moiseiwitsch, nq‘:l;ew of the famous pianist, ...

... OUR SHORT STORY.: A WOMAN-HATER. By Winirrzp GrAmAM, Martin Hale had lived a lonely life for years, hating women with an aversion which almosi amounted to mania. y ’ \ Like the majority of vomcn-l;:.hn. he Il‘:d | enuine grievance against BeX. e o B ...

... ‘OUiv SHORT STORY. 5 iE? . .i i g:;;;g olg ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. VIOLET—AND A VOLCANO. vJg that the Cliff Hotel? Yes? I want Miss Dene, please.”’ A short, aggravating silence. “Yes, it’s me. I, 1 mean—Leshe, of course. No, not Mr. Scott—you don’t know such a person!” The bgle?hon:h was firm. “Is it ...

... OUR SHORT STORY. VERA THE NIHILIST. (A BECRET SERVICE BTORY.) The stifling density of the Russian midsummer evening was broken by a man’s voice, low 1. - fierce ; and as Mademoiselle Le Fonde and lercpt nearer in the garden’s shadows we could hear a woman's ...