Classics Books

Brook and Waterfall California, the land of sunshine and roses, with its genial climate, its skies as blue as the far-famed skies of Venice, and its pure life-giving air, invites the lover of nature to take long tramps over hill and dale, mountain and valley, and to search out new trails in the rugged mountains. It is a common sight to see parties of men and women meet at the ferry building, dressed in... more...

I THE LITTLE LOST FOX Marmaduke was sitting on the fence. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just looking around. Jehosophat called to him from the barnyard,— "Come'n an' play 'I spy.'" But Marmaduke only grumbled,— "Don't want to." "Well, let's play 'Cross Tag' then," Jehosophat suggested. "Don't want to,"... more...

PREFATORY. In the History and Genealogies of Ancient Windsor, Conn., published in 1859, speaking of the influence of the old French wars upon the religious, moral and social life of New England, I used this language: "Then came war, and young New England brought from the long Canadian campaigns, stores of loose camp vices and recklessness, which soon flooded the land with immorality and infidelity.... more...

CHAPTER I Dawn held the world in stillness. In the vast stretches of barren hills and soft sands there was nothing living or stirring but the figure of an Englishman, standing at the door of his tent. At the hour of sunrise and sunset the East is its own. Every suggestion of Western influence and foreign invasion is wiped out. The going and the coming of the sun throws the land of the Pharaohs, the... more...

INTRODUCTION I In the series of books I edit for my sister I confine myself to those that have I believe some special value to Ireland, now or in the future. I have asked Mr. Pound for these beautiful plays because I think they will help me to explain a certain possibility of the Irish dramatic movement. I am writing these words with my imagination stirred by a visit to the studio of Mr. Dulac, the... more...

CHAPTER I. St. Albans, Vermont is near the eastern shore of Lake Champlain, and only a short distance south of "Five-and-forty north degrees" which separates the United States from Canada, and some sixty or seventy miles from the great St. Lawrence River and the city of Montreal. Near here it was, on April 6th, 1820, I was born, so the record says, and from this point with wondering eyes of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE THOUGHTS OF YOUTH The sunshine of a day in early spring, honey pale and honey sweet, was showering over the red brick buildings of Queenslea College and the grounds about them, throwing through the bare, budding maples and elms, delicate, evasive etchings of gold and brown on the paths, and coaxing into life the daffodils that were peering greenly and perkily up under the windows of the... more...

CHAPTER I FROM TAVERN TO THEATRE "Out of question, you were born in a merry hour," says Don Pedro to the blithesome heroine of "Much Ado About Nothing." "No, sure, my lord," answers Beatrice. "My mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born." Surely a star, possibly Venus, must have danced gaily on a certain night in the year of grace 1683,... more...

Philip Danvers, heading a small party of horsemen, galloped around the corner of a warehouse and pulled up on the levee at Bismarck as the mate of the Far West bellowed, "Let 'er go!" "Hold on!" he shouted, leaping from his mount. "Why in blazes!" The mate's impatience flared luridly as he ordered the gang-plank replaced. His heat ignited the smouldering resentment of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ORPHAN'S TRIAL. "We met ere yet the world had come To wither up the springs of youth, Amid the holy joys of home, And in the first warm blush of youth. We parted as they never part, Whose tears are doomed to be forgot; Oh, by what agony of heart Forget me not!—forget me not!" —Anonymous.   At nine o'clock the next morning Traverse went to the library to keep his... more...