Classics Books

HOW THE HORSES OF THE SUN RAN AWAY Greek Phaeton was the child of the Sun-god, Apollo. "Mother Clymene," said the boy one day, "I am going to visit my father's palace." "It is well," she answered. "The land where the Sun rises is not far from this. Go and ask a gift from him." That night Phaeton bound his sandals more tightly, and, wrapping a thicker silken robe... more...

CHAPTER I Inside the bank that June morning the clerks and accountants on their high stools were bent over their ponderous ledgers, although it was several minutes before the opening hour. The gray-stone building was in Atlanta's most central part on a narrow street paved with asphalt which sloped down from one of the main thoroughfares to the section occupied by the old passenger depot, the... more...

CHAPTER I Jill looked at the East! At her feet sat huddled groups of women, just bundles of black robes, some with discs about their necks, some with chains or golden crescents upon the forehead, all wearing the burko [yashmak or face veil] covering the entire face with the exception of the eyes, and held in position between the eyebrows by the quaint tube-shaped selva, fastening it to the tarhah, the... more...

PROLOGUE The Affair of the Man Who Vanished Mr. Maverick Narkom, Superintendent at Scotland Yard, flung aside the paper he was reading and wheeled round in his revolving desk-chair, all alert on the instant, like a terrier that scents a rat. He knew well what the coming of the footsteps toward his private office portended; his messenger was returning at last. Good! Now he would get at the facts of the... more...

The six tales now translated for the English reader were written by Turgenev at various dates between 1847 and 1881. Their chronological order is:— Pyetushkov, 1847 The Brigadier, 1867 A Strange Story, 1869 Punin and Baburin, 1874 Old Portraits, 1881 A Desperate Character, 1881 Pyetushkov is the work of a young man of twenty-nine, and its lively, unstrained realism is so bold, intimate, and delicate... more...

othing more exciting ever happened to Oliver Watts than being rejected by his draft board for a punctured eardrum until, deferring as usual to the superior judgment of his Aunt Katisha and of Glenna—his elder and militantly spinster sister—he put away his lifelong dream and took up, at the age of twenty-five, the practice of veterinary medicine. The relinquished dream was Oliver's ambition,... more...

Historical The manufacture of projectiles to meet the requirements of the modern science of warfare has been brought to its present high stage of development through a long series of experiments based, at first, more upon theory than perhaps any other branch of engineering. In the days of wooden vessels very little thought was given to the actual physical properties of the then cast iron spherical... more...

DOOM "Then I'm to understand there's no hope for me?" "I'm afraid not...." Greyerson said reluctantly, sympathy in his eyes. "None whatever." The verdict was thus brusquely emphasized by Hartt, one of the two consulting specialists. Having spoken, he glanced at his watch, then at the face of his colleague, Bushnell, who contented himself with a tolerant waggle of... more...

PART ONE Agénor Clerambault sat under an arbour in his garden at St. Prix, reading to his wife and children an ode that he had just written, dedicated to Peace, ruler of men and things, "Ara Pacis Augustae." In it he wished to celebrate the near approach of universal brotherhood. It was a July evening; a last rosy light lay on the tree-tops, and through the luminous haze, like a veil over the... more...

CHAPTER I. It was past midnight, and both men were smoking leisurely by the study fireside. Morgan Druce sat just on the edge of a low chair, his long, slim body bent forward, his clean-shaven boyish face well within the glow of the fire. Though he appeared to be looking at it, he was only conscious of its warmth. Robert Ingram, middle-aged and bearded, lolled back in sensuous comfort. "The long... more...