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Classics Books
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Michelangelo's Shoulder It dawned hot in Georgia. Don rubbed his head and blinked. He got out of bed and paused before a makeshift easel where a drawing, taped to a board, showed a woman sitting on a park bench. She was large, dressed in layers of multi-colored cotton. She reminded him of the Renoir woman in her plush living room, the dog sprawled at her feet, but she was smarter. The line across...
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Prudence urges me here to forestall detection, by conceding that this brief play has no pretension to "literary" quality. It is a piece in its inception designed for, and in its making swayed by, the requirements of the little theatre stage. The one virtue which anybody anywhere could claim for The Jewel Merchants is the fact that it "acts" easily and rather effectively. And candor...
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by:
George Thompson
CHAPTER I A Young Gentleman of Wealth and Fashion—a noble resolve—the flatterers—the Midnight Encounter—an Adventure—the Courtezan—Temptation triumphant—how the Night was passed. 'What a happy dog I ought to be!' exclaimed Frank Sydney, as he reposed his slippered feet upon the fender, and sipped his third glass of old Madeira, one winter's evening in the year 18—, in the...
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by:
Mary Dennett
INTRODUCTION FOR ELDERS In reading several dozen books on sex matters for the young with a view to selecting the best for my own children, I found none that I was willing to put into their hands, without first guarding them against what I considered very misleading and harmful impressions, which they would otherwise be sure to acquire in reading them. That is the excuse for this article. It is far more...
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by:
John McElroy
CHAPTER I. SHORTY BEGINS BEING A FATHER TO PETE SKIDMORE. "Come, my boy," Si said kindly. "Don't cry. You're a soldier now, and soldiers don't cry. Stop it." "Dod durn it," blubbered Pete, "I ain't cryin' bekase Pm skeered. I'm cryin' bekase I'm afeared you'll lose me. I know durned well you'll lose me yit, with all this...
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A heavy stillness hung about the great halls and richly furnished rooms of Judson McMasters' residence, and even seemed to extend out over the velvet lawns, the shrub-lined walks and sun-blotched reaches under the lacy elms and somber maples. Biggs glided about the sick-chamber like a specter, apparently striving to keep busy, while he cast countless furtive, uneasy glances at the heavy figure...
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THE EUROPEAN ANARCHY 1. Introduction. In the great and tragic history of Europe there is a turning-point that marks the defeat of the ideal of a world-order and the definite acceptance of international anarchy. That turning-point is the emergence of the sovereign State at the end of the fifteenth century. And it is symbolical of all that was to follow that at that point stands, looking down the vista...
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by:
Edmund Gosse
THE FUTURE OF ENGLISH POETRYJ’ai vu le cheval rose ouvrir ses ailes d’or,Et, flairant le laurier que je tenais encor,Verdoyant à jamais, hier comme aujourd’hui,Se cabrer vers le Jour et ruer vers la Nuit.Henri de Régnier.In venturing this afternoon to address an audience accustomed to listen to those whose positive authority is universally recognized, and in taking for my theme a subject not,...
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In the order of our Library "Mr. Punch with the Children" comes last, yet, so continual and sincere has been the interest of the breezy little man in the children, we might well have placed this volume first. The Punch pictures, stories and jests that are concerned with the young folk are almost inexhaustible. The present collection, though containing the cream of them, comes very far indeed...
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The sun came up over a glassy, motionless sea. In the life-boat, Craig arranged the piece of sail to protect them from the sun. He hoisted it to the top of the improvised mast, spreading it so that it threw a shadow on the boat. There was no wind. There had been no wind for three days. Craig stood up and swept his eyes around the circle of the sea. The horizon was unbroken. As he sat down he was aware...
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