Our Little French Cousin' is an attempt to tell, in plain, simple language, something of the daily life of a little French girl, living in a Norman village, in one of the most progressive and opulent sections of France.
THE American Woman needs no introduction abroad. Always she is the most welcome of the throngs of self-invited guests who attend the great annual "At Home" which the European world holds for the visiting strangers, an entertainment that is becoming an all the year around function. All that Europe has to offer is hers on call, so long as she radiates that graciousness and appreciation which everywhere distinguishes her - the most vivacious and distinctive feminine personality of all the women of the world to be seen on the European Playground. To the American woman abroad is due the credit of having so far influenced the conventions and traditions of the Old World as to have it recognise and accept with good grace (in so far at least as her own actions are concerned) a new standard of feminine conduct - freer and more independent than its own, but none the less modest and self-protective.
TO claim for any collection of nursery rhymes the title of the "true" Mother Goose, is to throw a glove to the antiquarians; for over the origin and authenticity of these hits of ageless nonsense, as over that of other great classics, lances have splintered and savants have disagreed. It is not, however, the purpose of the present pages to trace the genesis of this inconsequent anthology, some of whose quatrains reach back to the twilight of minstrelsy, but rather to state briefly the various claims of the collectors of these delicious drolleries, and the authority for the present edition.
This concise history of the early years of European contention over the island of Manhattan was published in 1897 as a children's book, complete with numerous charming pen-and-ink drawings by the author. But with its lively, entertaining prose and smart approach that doesn't condescend to its young reader, it's still a charming read for adults today. Covering the discovery and settlement of what would become the Big Apple, this is a lovely gift for a steadfast New Yorker, a devotee of early children's books, or anyone interested in how the telling of history can be a vigorous, vivacious tale. American author and illustrator BLANCHE MCMANUS (1870-1935) was a beloved writer for children in her day, also authoring The True Mother Goose (1895) and The Voyage of the Mayflower (1897). For adults, she wrote The American Woman Abroad (1911).
Step into the fascinating world of ancient Egypt with "Nabul, Our Little Egyptian Cousin" by Blanche McManus, where culture, history, and adventure await. This captivating book introduces readers to Nabul, a young Egyptian boy, and takes them on a journey through the enchanting landscapes and rich heritage of this ancient civilization. In "Nabul, Our Little Egyptian Cousin," readers will accompany Nabul as he navigates the bustling streets of ancient Egypt, explores iconic landmarks such as the pyramids and temples, and learns about the customs and traditions of his people. From the banks of the Nile River to the grand halls of the pharaohs, readers will be immersed in the sights, sounds, and wonders of this extraordinary civilization. Blanche McManus's storytelling brings ancient Egypt to life, transporting readers back in time and offering a glimpse into the daily life, beliefs, and cultural practices of the Egyptian people. Through Nabul's adventures, readers will gain a deeper understanding of the rich history, architecture, mythology, and social structure of this remarkable civilization. Join Nabul as he embarks on a captivating journey through ancient Egypt, discovering the mysteries of the past and gaining a newfound appreciation for the wonders of this extraordinary civilization.
An attempt to enumerate the architectural monuments of France is not possible without due consideration being given to the topographical divisions of the country, which, so far as the early population and the expression of their arts and customs is concerned, naturally divides itself into two grand divisions of influences, widely dissimilar. Historians, generally, agree that the country which embraces the Frankish influences in the north, as distinct from that where are spoken the romance languages, finds its partition somewhere about a line drawn from the mouth of the Loire to the Swiss lakes. Territorially, this approaches an equal division, with the characteristics of architectural forms well nigh as equally divided. Indeed, Fergusson,who in his general estimates and valuations is seldom at fault, thus divides it:—"on a line which follows the valley of the Loire to a point between Tours and Orleans, then southwesterly to Lyons, and thence along the valley of the Rhône to Geneva." With such a justification, then, it is natural that some arbitrary division should be made in arranging the subject matter of a volume which treats, in part only, of a country or its memorials; even though the influences of one section may not only have lapped over into the other, but, as in certain instances, extended far beyond. As the peoples were divided in speech, so were they in their manner of building, and the most thoroughly consistent and individual types were in the main confined to the environment of their birth. A notable exception is found in Brittany, where is apparent a generous admixture of style which does not occur in the churches of the first rank; referring to the imposing structures of the Isle de France and its immediate vicinity. The "Grand Cathedrals" of this region are, perhaps, most strongly impressed upon the mind of whoever takes something more than a superficial interest in the subject as the type which embodies the loftiest principles of Gothic forms, and, as such, they are perhaps best remembered by that very considerable body of persons known as intelligent observers. The strongest influences at work in the north from the twelfth century onward have been in favour of the Gothic or pointed styles, whilst, in the south, civic and ecclesiastical architecture alike were of a manifest Byzantine or Romanesque tendency. No better illustration of this is possible than to recall the fact that, when the builders of the fifteenth century undertook to complete that astoundingly impressive choir at Beauvais, they sought to rival in size and magnificence its namesake at Rome, which, under the care of the Pontiff himself, was then being projected. Thus it was that this thoroughly Gothic structure of the north was to stand forth as the indicator of local influences, as contrasted with the Italian design and plans of the St. Peter's of the south.
No account of the life and historical monuments of any section of the old French provinces can be made to confine its scope within geographical or topographical limits. The most that can be accomplished is to centre the interest around some imaginary hub from which radiate leading lines of historic and romantic interest. Henri de Navarre is the chief romantic and historical figure of all that part of France bounded on the south by the Pyrenean frontier of Spain. He was but a Prince of Béarn when his mother, Jeanne d'Albret, became the sovereign of French Navarre and of Béarn, but the romantic life which had centred around the ancestral château at Pau was such that the young prince went up to Paris with a training in chivalry and a love of pomp and splendour which was second only to that of François I.
Who was Undine? Why, just the most beautiful Rhine maiden who ever existed, but she wanted to be a mortal and to leave the lovely caves below the waters and become a commonplace human being. So her great uncle Kühleborn, who was ruler of the spirits of the waters, made a mighty storm, and Undine, in the shape of a tiny baby, was washed to the shore of a lake, where the old fisher people who had lost their own child adopted her. As a little girl Undine often amazed her foster parents by her queer sayings and doings. She would play among the waves of the lake, and often would mysteriously disappear for days at a time. Now when she had grown up, a knight rode through the forest and stopped with the old fisher people, and that night another storm rose, and the lake burst its bound and encircled the house, so that they were cut off from land, and saw no way ever to rejoin the rest of the world. A priest was wrecked below their hut, and the next day Huldbrand, the knight, married Undine, who at once became mortal—the sweetest, gentlest, loveliest bride knight ever had. Then the lake sank down to its usual size, and straightway the knight bore off his bride. But Kühleborn followed them through the forest—now as a brook, and then as a waterfall—always near to watch over Undine. For a long time they were very happy; but a lady at the court, Bertalda, had loved the knight herself before ever he met Undine, and still loved him; so she did her best to persuade him that the fair Undine was a witch. Undine thought that a person who was so cruel must be unhappy, and thought it was because she was an orphan, so she found out through the water-fairies that Bertalda was the lost daughter of the fisher-folk, her foster parents, and sent for them. But Bertalda was furious at being discovered to be a peasant, and hated Undine still more, and did more to set Huldbrand against his bride. Now Undine knew if her husband was cruel to her or loved another, she would have to kill him and rejoin the water-people; so she did her best by loving ways to inspire him with faith, but he grew more and more suspicious, especially when Undine had the great well of the castle covered with a huge stone, for she feared lest Huldbrand’s treatment would cause the Rhine fairies, who could only enter the castle by that spring, to do him injury.
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