Browse Items (202 total)

FORGOTTEN WORTHIES BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS. DAVID ZEISBERGER While John Woolman[1] was still a baby in the poor farm house at Mount Holly, another boy of like spirit, and destined to a noble work, was born in an obscure little hamlet among the…

FROM DOOR TO DOOR BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS During last winter there was an earnest movement among all the Protestant denominations in Philadelphia to unite in a great Evangelical work. The churches were open for daily service, and the public was…

THE HEAVENLY CALL BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS The McCall farm lies at the head of Ninegemoose Creek, in one of the hill counties of Pennsylvania. Old Stenifer McCall, a sturdy blacksmith, headed a party of Scotch emigrants who found their way into the…

HEROISM UNTO DEATH BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS Among the reports of havoc and suffering caused by the great storm, our readers may not have noted a piteous little incident which occurred on the Pennsylvania Railway. An express train, rushing through the…

Polly’s Religion By Rebecca Harding Davis  There can be little doubt that if the people of Ball’s Ferry had been asked to decide which was the most pious family in their midst, they would unanimously have named the Demmings. They had long ago been…

THE CONDUCTOR’S STORY  BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS Good arable?[1] Yes, sir; and if you look at it in the way of scenery, it’s as pretty a bit of land as you’ll find in Kent county. That stretch now ahead. By the way, there was a queer thing happened on…

DANIEL PONGE’S SUCCESS BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS Of all the members of the Third Church, Mrs. Clarkson Tate was the one whose religion took the most practical turn. Neither prayers nor music ever brought the tears to her cool gray eyes, and she…

CURED BY ACTIVE WORK. BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS  Every man in business, once or twice a year must take account of stock, to see just where he stands. He has not enough of one article, or has too much of another. In that direction he must show more…

"A Night in the Mountains." THE child's eyes turned from her old black maumee, on whose lap she lay, to her mother, kneeling beside her, and then out to the yard gay with dahlias and rich lilies, and the cotton-field beyond, which had been the…

A STORY OF LIFE INSURANCE BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE MURDER IN THE GLEN ROSS” CHAPTER I. Near the close of a crowded court clay, I was at work in my inner office with Messrs. Johns and Preston, counsel with myself in the Porton case, of which you have…
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