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Jeff Peters was always eloquent when the ethics of his profession was under discussion.

Golden by day and silver by night, a new trail now leads to us across the Indian Ocean.

Old Jerome Warren lived in a hundred-thousand-dollar house at 35 East Fifty-Soforth Street. He was a down-town broker, so rich that he could afford to walk--for his health--a few blocks in the direction of his office every morning, and then call a cab.

Considering men in relation to money, there are three kinds whom I dislike: men who have more money than they can spend; men who have more money than they do spend; and men who spend more money than they have.

"Find yo' shirt all right, Sam?" asked Mrs. Webber, from her chair under the live-oak, where she was comfortably seated with a paper- back volume for company.

It has been indicated that disaffection followed the elevation of Losada to the presidency. This feeling continued to grow. Throughout the entire republic there seemed to be a spirit of silent, sullen discontent.

Ravenel -- Ravenel, the traveller, artist and poet, threw his magazine to the floor. Sammy Brown, broker's clerk, who sat by the window, jumped.

I go to seek on many roads What is to be. True heart and strong, with love to light-- Will they not bear me in the fight To order, shun or wield or mould My Destiny?

Can you inform me where I can buy an interest in a newspaper of some kind?

If you are a philosopher you can do this thing: you can go to the top of a high building, look down upon your fellow-men 300 feet below, and despise them as insects.

Spring winked a vitreous optic at Editor Westbrook of the _Minerva Magazine_, and deflected him from his course.

Only on the lower East Side of New York do the houses of Capulet and Montagu survive. There they do not fight by the book of arithmetic.