Classics Books

THE RISING OF THE COURT Oh, then tell us, Sings and Judges, where our meeting is to be,when the laws of men are nothing, and our spirits all are freewhen the laws of men are nothing, and no wealth can hold the fort,There'll be thirst for mighty brewers at the Rising of the Court. The same dingy court room, deep and dim, like a well, with the clock high up on the wall, and the doors low down in it;... more...

ON THIS SIDE. VIII. Not the least delightful of Sir Robert's qualities was his capacity for enjoying most things that came in his way, and finding some interest in all. When Mr. Ketchum joined him in the library, where he was jotting down "the sobriquets of the American States and cities," and told him of the Niagara plan, his ruddy visage beamed with pleasure. "A delightful idea.... more...

CHAPTER FIRST I am Born. If this simple tale is to be told at all, it may as well begin at the beginning and in the good old-fashioned and best of all ways—thus: Once upon a time in the Canadian city of Toronto, on the 17th of March, the sun rose bright and clear—which was a most surprising thing for the sun to do on St. Patrick's Day, but while the people were yet wondering over it the... more...

CHAPTER I. Something unusual was going on at division headquarters. The men in the nearest regimental camps, regular and volunteer, were “lined up” along the sentry posts and silently, eagerly watching and waiting. For a week rumor had been rife that orders for a move were coming and the brigades hailed it with delight. For a month, shivering at night in the dripping, drenching fogs drifting in... more...

A LEADER FROM A FOREIGN NEWSPAPER: THE NEW RUSSIAN MANIFESTO. Mention was recently made, in Vol. ix., p. 218., of the valuable character of many of the leading articles in the continental journals, and a wish expressed that translations of them were more frequently communicated in our own papers to English readers. The great newspapers of this country are too rich in varied talent and worldwide... more...

"Well, Corporal Westerburg," Doctor Henry Harris said gently, "just why do you think you're a plant?" As he spoke, Harris glanced down again at the card on his desk. It was from the Base Commander himself, made out in Cox's heavy scrawl: Doc, this is the lad I told you about. Talk to him and try to find out how he got this delusion. He's from the new Garrison, the new... more...

How Gil Carr Heard a Concert in Spring. “Too soon for sweet mace—a bunch for sweet Mace,” said Gil Carr as he bent down amongst the sedges to pick the bright blue scorpion grass, its delicate flowers relieved with yellow, “so she must have forget-me-not. I wonder whether she’ll keep some when I’m far away.” He stopped and smiled and listened, for the morning concert... more...

That evening I lighted a cigar and went down to sit on the outermost pile of the Asquith dock to commune with myself. To say that I was disappointed in Miss Thorn would be to set a mild value on my feelings. I was angry, even aggressive, over her defence of the Celebrity. I had gone over to Mohair that day with a hope that some good reason was at the bottom of her tolerance for him, and had come back... more...

CHAPTER I. THE METAMORPHOSIS. NEW YORK, Sunday, Dec. 16. I am going to set down as calmly and fully as I can a plain statement of all that has happened since I came to New York. I shall not trim details, nor soften the facts to humour my own amazement, nor try to explain the marvel that I do not pretend to understand. I begin at the beginning—at the plunge into fairy tale and miracle that I made,... more...

Arthur Duryea, a young, handsome man, came to meet his father for the first time in twenty years. As he strode into the hotel lobby—long strides which had the spring of elastic in them—idle eyes lifted to appraise him, for he was an impressive figure, somehow grim with exaltation. The desk clerk looked up with his habitual smile of expectation; how-do-you-do-Mr.-so-and-so, and his fingers strayed... more...