Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, December 1878

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Various. Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, December 1878

DANUBIAN DAYS

"FOR PERCIVAL."

CHAPTER XLVIII ENGAGEMENTS—HOSTILE AND OTHERWISE

CHAPTER XLIX. HOW THE SUN ROSE IN GLADNESS, AND SET IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH

CHAPTER L. THROUGH THE NIGHT

CHAPTER LI. BY THE EXPRESS

CHAPTER LII

CHAPTER LIII. AFTERWARD

SOME ASPECTS OF CONTEMPORARY ART

THREE WATCHES

SISTER SILVIA

A SPANISH STORY-TELLER

THROUGH WINDING WAYS

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

DAWN IN THE CITY

THE PARIS EXPOSITION OF 1878

IV.—MACHINERY

THE COLONEL'S SENTENCE: AN ALGERIAN STORY

STARLIGHT

THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE OF 1878 IN VENEZUELA

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP

THE HISS AND ITS HISTORY

A NEW TOPIC OF CONVERSATION

THE STORY OF THE TROCADÉRO

SWISS ENGINEERING

LITERATURE OF THE DAY

Books Received

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The fairest season of the year, the debatable ground between spring and summer, had come round once more. There were leaves on the trees and flowers in the grass. The sunshine was golden and full, not like the bleak brightness of March. The winds were warm, the showers soft. Percival, always keenly affected by such influences, felt as if a new life had come to him with the spring. Now that the evenings had grown long and light, he could escape into the country, breathe a purer air and wander in fields and lanes. And as he wandered, musing, it seemed to him that he had awakened from a dream.

He looked back upon the past year, and he was more than half inclined to call himself a fool. He had taken up work for which he was not fit. He could see that now. He knew very well that his life was almost intolerable, and that it would never be more tolerable unless help came from without. He could never grow accustomed to his drudgery. He could work honestly, but he could never put his heart into it. And even if he could have displayed ten times as much energy, if his aptitude for business had been ten times as great, if Mr. Ferguson had estimated him so highly as to take him as articled clerk, if he had passed all his examinations and been duly admitted, if the brightest possibilities in such a life as his had become realities and he had attained at last to a small share in the business,—what would be the end of this most improbable success? Merely that he would have to spend his whole life in Brenthill absorbed in law. Now, the law was a weariness to him, and he loathed Brenthill. Yet he had voluntarily accepted a life which could offer him no higher prize than such a fate as this, when Godfrey Hammond or Mrs. Middleton, or even old Hardwicke, would no doubt have helped him to something better.

.....

"A place to recollect and dream of on a November day," said Fothergill.

"Oh, don't talk of November now! I hate it."

.....