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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867   By:

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867 is a collection of essays, short stories, and poems that provide a fascinating glimpse into the thoughts and culture of the time period. The authors cover a wide range of topics, from politics and social issues to art and literature, making for a thought-provoking and engaging read.

One standout piece in this volume is an essay on the role of women in society, written with a depth of insight and compassion that is ahead of its time. The language throughout the collection is rich and evocative, transporting the reader to a different era while still remaining accessible and engaging.

Overall, The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867 offers a valuable perspective on 19th-century America and is a must-read for anyone interested in history, literature, or social commentary. Highly recommended.

First Page:

THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.

A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics.

VOL. XX. DECEMBER, 1867. NO. CXXII.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by TICKNOR AND FIELDS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

MURRAY BRADSHAW PLAYS HIS LAST CARD.

"How can I see that man this evening, Mr. Lindsay?"

"May I not be Clement , dearest? I would not see him at all, Myrtle. I don't believe you will find much pleasure in listening to his fine speeches."

"I cannot endure it. Kitty, tell him I am engaged, and cannot see him this evening. No, no! don't say engaged, say very much occupied."

Kitty departed, communing with herself in this wise: "Ockipied, is it? An' that's what ye cahl it when ye're kapin' company with one young gintleman an' don't want another young gintleman to come in an' help the two of ye? Ye won't get y'r pigs to market to day, Mr. Bridshaw, no, nor to morrow, nayther, Mr. Bridshaw. It's Mrs. Lindsay that Miss Myrtle is goin' to be, an' a big cake there'll be at the weddin', frosted all over, won't ye be plased with a slice o' that, Mr. Bridshaw?"

With these reflections in her mind, Mistress Kitty delivered her message, not without a gleam of malicious intelligence in her look that stung Mr... Continue reading book >>


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