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Susan Warner
Susan Warner (1819-1885) was an American author best known for her novel "The Wide, Wide World," which became one of the first American bestsellers. Writing under the pen name Elizabeth Wetherell, Warner produced numerous novels that often focused on themes of Christianity and domestic life. Alongside her sister, Anna Warner, she also wrote hymns, including the widely known "Jesus Loves Me."
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Susan Warner
WHO IS SHE? "Tom, who was that girl you were so taken with last night?" "Wasn't particularly taken last night with anybody." Which practical falsehood the gentleman escaped from by a mental reservation, saying to himself that it was not last night that he was "taken." "I mean the girl you had so much to do with. Come, Tom!" "I hadn't much to do with her. I...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. THE FIRST SMOKE OF THE BATTLEFIELD. While Miss Cardigan went with her nephew to the door, I remained standing by the fire, which could have witnessed to so much done around it that night. I felt strong, but I remember my cheeks had an odd sensation as if the blood had left them. I did not know Miss Cardigan had come back, till I saw her standing beside me and looking at me anxiously....
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Susan Warner
Chapter I. A single cloud on a sunny day When all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear, When skies are blue and earth is gay. Byron. Come, dear grandpa!—the old mare and the wagon are at the gate—all ready." "Well, dear!"—responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my...
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Susan Warner
THE RUINS. "She look'd and saw that all was ruinous, Here stood a shattered archway plumed with fern; And here had fall'n a great part of a tower, Whole, like a crag that tumbles from the cliff, And like a crag was gay with wilding flowers, And high above a piece of turret stair, Worn by the feet that now were silent, Bare to the sun." The first thing...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. A little girl was coming down a flight of stairs that led up from a great hall, slowly letting her feet pause on each stair, while the light touch of her hand on the rail guided her. The very thoughtful little face seemed to be intent on something out of the house, and when she reached the bottom, she still stood with her hand on the great baluster that rested on the marble there, and looked...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. A single cloud on a sunny day,When all the rest of heaven is clear,A frown upon the atmosphere,That hath no business to appear,When skies are blue and earth is gay.BYRON. "Come, dear grandpa! the old mare and the wagon are at the gate all ready." "Well, dear! responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my hat yet." "O, I'll get...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. AFTER DANDELIONS. It is now a good many years ago that an English family came over from the old country and established itself in one of the small villages that are scattered along the shore of Connecticut. Why they came was not clearly understood, neither was it at all to be gathered from their way of life or business. Business properly they had none; and their way of life seemed one of...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. DAISY'S QUESTION. A little girl was coming down a flight of stairs that led up from a great hall, slowly letting her feet pause on each stair, while the light touch of her hand on the rail guided her. The very thoughtful little face seemed to be intent on something out of the house, and when she reached the bottom, she still stood with her hand on the great baluster that rested on the...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. "He that has light within his own clear breast,May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day."MILTON. The farming plan succeeded beyond Fleda's hopes thanks not more to her wisdom than to the nice tact with which the wisdom was brought into play. The one was eked out with Seth Plumfield's; the other was all her own. Seth was indefatigably kind and faithful. After his...
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Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. The door stands open of a handsome house in Walnut Street—the Walnut Street which belongs to the city of William Penn; and on the threshold stands a lady, with her hand up to her brows, shielding her eyes from the light. She is watching to see what will come out of a carriage just driving up to the curbstone. The carriage stops; there descends first the figure of a handsome, very...
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