Classics Books

Preface Colonel Duff has, at my request, written the following very interesting and touching account of my dear Mother; and she has done so in the hope that those who read it will be helped to follow in the footsteps of that wonderful servant of God. But how can they do so? Was not Mrs. Booth, you ask, an exceptional woman? Had she not great gifts and very remarkable powers, and was she not trained in... more...

CHAPTER I The officer whose collar ornaments were the winged staff and serpents of the medical branch, held what was left of the deck in his right hand and moistened the tip of his thumb against the tip of his tongue. “Reënforcements, major?” he inquired with a glance to the man at his left, and the poker face of the gentleman so addressed remained impervious to expression as the answer was given... more...

CHAPTER I. Every one who knows Oxford, and a good many besides, must have heard of certain periodical migrations of the younger members of that learned university into distant and retired parts of her Majesty’s dominions, which (on the “lucus a non lucendo” principle) are called and known by the name of Reading Parties. Some half-dozen undergraduates, in peril of the coming examination, form... more...

CHAPTER I. FATHERLESS. t was an artist's studio, a poor, shabby little place, with a latticed window facing the north. There was nothing in the furnishing or arrangement of the room to suggest successful work, or even artistic taste. A few tarnished gold frames leaned against the gaudily-papered wall, and the only picture stood on the dilapidated easel in the middle of the floor, a small canvas of... more...

CHAPTER I LORENZO—"Il Magnifico." GIULIANO—"Il Pensieroso." "Signori!" "Signori!" Such was the stirring cry which resounded through the lofty Council Chamber of the famous Palazzo Vecchio that dull December day in the year 1469. Never had such a title been accorded to any one in Florence, where every man was as good as, if not better than, his neighbour. Foreign... more...

ODE FOR THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE. 1837-1887. I Sailor William is dead. And now  Toll the great bells disconsolate.    Let the maiden have time for tearsEre you set on her gentle brow  England's glittering crown of state.    Heavy burden for eighteen years.Grant the maiden some weeping spaceEre on her youthful brow you place      England's crown.Once her stately head it... more...

The Prologue. Your silence and attention, worthy friends,That your free spirits may with more pleasing senseRelish the life of this our active scene:To which intent, to calm this murmuring breath,We ring this round with our invoking spells;If that your listning ears be yet prepardTo entertain the subject of our play,Lend us your patience.Tis Peter Fabell, a renowned Scholler,Whose fame hath still been... more...

Like a flash of light the gleaming sword swept down. A fraction of a second later a portion of it no longer gleamed: it was crimson! And Queen Dionaea's head bounced down the stairway into her garden of live oaks. A few seconds of thought remained to it before it would be very dead; but her thought was confused by shock—her eyes rolled uncontrollably while she tried to remember some cantrap or... more...

CHAPTER I The Second Son Lady Rosemary Granton! Strange how pleasant memories arise, how disagreeable nightmares loom up before the mental vision at the sound of a name! Lady Rosemary Granton! As far back as I could remember, that name had sounded familiar in my ears. As I grew from babyhood to boyhood, from boyhood to youth, it was drummed into me by my father that Lady Rosemary Granton, some day,... more...

Chapter One. The Sheep-Stealers. The sun flamed down from a cloudless sky upon the green and gold of the wide valley, hot and sensuous in the early afternoon. The joyous piping of sheeny spreeuws mingled with the crowing of cock koorhans concealed amid the grass, or noisily taking to flight to fuss up half a dozen others in the process. Mingled, too, with all this, came the swirl of the red, turgid... more...