December 2009 - Linuxargentina-proyectos

{Spam?} As it is, she may hardly be termed as such. But Catholic Sp
by Ngvyen Marze 08 Dec '09

08 Dec '09

Ed, until mass is again daily said within these consecrated walls, and finally until San Carlos of Carmelo is again a worthier Carmel, "for the greater honor and glory of God" and the praises of His Virgin Mother once more are sung about this smiling valley where the Christian Indian children gathered the beautiful wild flowers of the blooming meadows to adorn the hallowed shrines, ere chimed the Angelus at evenings mellow glow. Chapter IX Reverend Raymond M. Mestres of Monterey Writes Historical Drama--"Fray Junipero" Beautiful among beautiful historical dramas is the mission play "Fray Junipero" written by Reverend Raymond Mestres, pastor of San Carlos Church (Capilla Real de San Carlos) of Monterey. Many men and women have undertaken to write about mission times, but we may safely assert that this good priest so unassuming in what he does, is above all qualified to handle this subject, being first of all a religious, a native of Barcelona, the Metropolis of the Province of Catalonia, which can claim Junipero Serra and so many of the early Spanish missionaries, explorers and settlers, and being too an artist and scholar in every way acquainted with the history of the missions, having made it a special study during his twenty-seven years of residence (as a priest) in four mission towns of California, twenty-one of which have been spent in that chief of mission towns, Monterey. Unbiased, careful of detail and true to history, while not wanting in artistic setting "Fray Junipero" carries the audience in Act I back to the College of Fernando, when Junipero Serra received his commission to come to California as Father Pre

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{Spam?} ered at me. Then suddenly
by Bollozos Freehan 06 Dec '09

06 Dec '09

P and down the platform arranging the order of cakes from home and trying to gather from the sound of the gunning and intermittent visits to the Signal Office what was happening. Someone had been told that the old 15th was being hard pressed. Each of us regretted loudly that we had not been attached to it, though our hearts spoke differently. Despatch riders have muddled thoughts. There is a longing for the excitement of danger and a very earnest desire to keep away from it. The C.O. walked on to the platform hurriedly, and in a minute or two I was off. It was lucky that the road was covered with unholy grease, that the light was bad and there was transport on the road--for it is not good for a despatch rider to think too much of what is before him. My instructions were to report to the general and make myself useful. I was also cheerfully informed that the H.Q. of the 15th were under a robust shell-fire. Little parties of sad-looking wounded that I passed, the noise of the guns, and the evil dusk heartened me. I rode into Festubert, which was full of noise, and, very hastily dismounting, put my motor-cycle under the cover of an arch and reported to the general. He was sitting at a table in the stuffy room of a particularly dirty tavern. At the far end a fat and frightened woman was crooning to her child. Beside her sat a wrinkled, leathery old man with bandaged head. He had wandered into the street, and he had been cut about by shrapnel. The few wits he had ever possessed were gone, and he gave every few seconds little croaks of hate. Three telephone operators were working with strained faces at their highest speed. The windows had been smashed by shrapnel, and bits of glass and things crunched under foot. The room was full of noises--the crackle of the telephones, the crooning of the woman, the croak of the wounded old man, the clear and incisive tones of the general and his brigade-major, the rattle of not too distant rifles, the booming of guns and occasionally the terrific, overwhelming crash of a shell bursting in the village. I was given a glass of wine. Cadell, th

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I do adore thee; O my love, my love is young; Age, I do defy
by Lamborne 06 Dec '09

06 Dec '09

Uslims were erected on the coasts of the Gulf of Lyons

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