Classics Books

Showing: 1921-1930 results of 6965

RATAPLAN, ROGUE In one of the thick, shady and tangled forests of Ceylon a fine, fully-grown elephant was one day standing moodily by himself. His huge form showed high above the tangled brushwood, but his wide, flat feet and large, pillar-like legs were hidden in the thick undergrowth. He was not standing still, however—for no elephant has ever been known to do that yet—his massive, elongated... more...

CHAPTER I A VALENTINE PARTY "It IS a boofy frock, isn't it, Nansome?" Patty craned her head over her shoulder, as she waited for her stepmother's response, which was only, "Yes." "Oh, my gracious, Nan! Enthuse! Don't you know half the fun in life is enthusiasm?" "What shall I say?" asked Nan, laughing. "Oh, say it's a peach! a hummer! a... more...

Why Not? At three o’clock this afternoon Evelyn Wastneys died. I am Evelyn Wastneys, and I died, standing at the door of an old country home in Ireland, with my hands full of ridiculous little silver shoes and horseshoes, and a Paris hat on my head, and a trembling treble voice whispering in my ear:— “Good-bye, Evelyn darling—darling! Thank you—thank you for all you have been to me! Oh,... more...

WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS, AND OF SCOTLAND. Notwithstanding the shortness of their days, the bitterness of their frosts, and the fury of their storms, December and January are merry months. First comes old Christmas, shaking his hoary locks, belike, in the shape of snow-drift, and laughing, well-pleased, beneath his crown of mistletoe, over the smoking sirloin and the savoury goose. There is... more...

THE SETTING OUT. One pleasant morning in the autumn, when Rollo was about five years old, he was sitting on the platform, behind his father's house, playing. He had a hammer and nails, and some small pieces of board. He was trying to make a box. He hammered and hammered, and presently he dropped his work down and said, fretfully, "O dear me!" "What is the matter, Rollo?" said... more...

Paying the Footing. Now, it don’t matter a bit what sort of clay a pot’s made of, if when it’s been tried in the fire it turns out sound and rings well when it’s struck. If I’m only common red ware, without even a bit of glaze on me, and yet answer the purpose well for which I’m made, why I’m a good pot, ain’t I, even if I only hold water? But what I hate is... more...

CHAPTER XXVIII. There is that in a wedding which appeals to a universal sympathy. No other event in the lives of their superiors in rank creates an equal sensation amongst the humbler classes. From the moment the news that Miss Jemima was to be married had spread throughout the village, all the old affection for the squire and his House burst forth the stronger for its temporary suspension. Who could... more...

Being an author actually at work, and not an author being photographed at work by a lady admirer, he did not gaze large-eyed at a poppy in a crystal vase, one hand lightly touching his forehead, the other tossing off page after page in high godlike frenzy. On the contrary, the young man at the table yawned, lolled, sighed, scratched his ear, read snatches of Virginia Carter's "Letters to My... more...

CHAPTER ONE A COMMONPLACE MAN WAS PETER Daffodils were selling at two bits a dozen in the flower stand beside the New Era Drug Store. Therefore Peter Stevenson knew that winter was over, and that the weather would probably "settle." There would be the spring fogs, of course—and fog did not agree with Helen May since that last spell of grippe. Peter decided that he would stop and see the... more...

CHAPTER I. Colonial policy—Union or separation—Self-government—Varieties of condition—The Pacific colonies—The West Indies—Proposals for a West Indian federation—Nature of the population—American union and British plantations—Original conquest of the West Indies. The Colonial Exhibition has come and gone. Delegates from our great self-governed dependencies have met and consulted... more...