Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis Stevenson
Robert Louis Stevenson was a Scottish novelist, poet, and travel writer, best known for his classic works such as "Treasure Island" and "Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde." Born on November 13, 1850, in Edinburgh, his adventurous spirit and chronic health issues influenced much of his writing, which often explores themes of adventure, duality, and human nature. Stevenson's vivid storytelling and memorable characters have left a lasting impact on literature, making his works beloved by readers of all ages.

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STORY OF THE DOOR Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which... more...

CHAPTER I Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the "Admiral... more...

CHAPTER I A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, David Balfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending me with a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing me from their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, I was like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to my last shillings, my... more...

CHAPTER I. THE FOREIGNER AT HOME “This is no my ain house;I ken by the biggin’ o’t.” Two recent books one by Mr. Grant White on England, one on France by the diabolically clever Mr. Hillebrand, may well have set people thinking on the divisions of races and nations.  Such thoughts should arise with particular congruity and force to inhabitants of that United Kingdom, peopled from so many... more...

Sir,—It may probably occur to you that we have met, and visited, and conversed; on my side, with interest.  You may remember that you have done me several courtesies, for which I was prepared to be grateful.  But there are duties which come before gratitude, and offences which justly divide friends, far more acquaintances.  Your letter to the Reverend H. B. Gage is a document which, in my sight,... more...

I.—THE PERSONS OF THE TALE. After the 32nd chapter of Treasure Island, two of the puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and met in an open place not far from the story. “Good-morning, Cap’n,” said the first, with a man-o’-war salute, and a beaming countenance. “Ah, Silver!” grunted the other.  “You’re in a bad way, Silver.” “Now, Cap’n... more...

The Child Alone       I The Unseen Playmate     II My Ship and I    III My Kingdom     IV Picture-Books in Winter      V My Treasures     VI Block City    VII The Land of Story-Books   VIII Armies in the Fire     IX The Little Land Garden Days       I Night and Day     II Nest Eggs    III The Flowers     IV Summer Sun      V The Dumb... more...

These studies are collected from the monthly press. One appeared in the New Quarterly, one in Macmillan’s, and the rest in the Cornhill Magazine. To the Cornhill I owe a double debt of thanks; first, that I was received there in the very best society, and under the eye of the very best of editors; and second, that the proprietors have allowed me to republish so considerable an amount of copy. These... more...

CHAPTER I I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father's house. The sun began to shine upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were... more...

THE FOREIGNER AT HOME “This is no’ my ain house; I ken by the biggin’ o’t.” Two recent books, one by Mr. Grant White on England, one on France by the diabolically clever Mr. Hillebrand, may well have set people thinking on the divisions of races and nations. Such thoughts should arise with particular congruity and force to inhabitants of that United Kingdom, peopled from so many different... more...

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