Classics Books

PREFACE. An eminent apothecary of my acquaintance once told me that at each increase to his family, he added ten per cent to the price of his drugs, and as his quiver was full of daughters, Blackdraught, when I knew him, was a more costly cordial than Curaçoa. To apply this to my own case, I may mention that I had a daughter born to me about the time this story dates from, and not having at my command... more...

CHAPTER I DOROTHY The day of days had come at last: Dorothy would be the Daughter of theRegiment. "Lucky you don't have to curl your hair, Doro, for the fog is like rain, and that's the worst kind for made curls," said Tavia. "Oh, I do hope it is not going to rain!" "No, it surely won't. But come, don't let's be late." "There's heaps of time,... more...

A POSSIBLE EVENT.   Occupied as most of us are with our respective worldly concerns, and accustomed to see the routine of common events going on smoothly from age to age, we are little apt to reflect on natural events of a tremendous character, which modern science shews might possibly happen, and that on any day of any year. We think of the land as a firm and solid thing—as terra firma, in... more...

  never thought I'd like circus life, but a year of it has changed me. It's in my blood now and I suppose I'll never give it up—even if they'd let me. This job is better than anything I could get in the newspaper racket. I work all summer, it's true, but I get the winter off, though some of the offers for winter work are mighty tempting. Maybe if I hadn't been kicked... more...

Advertisement If the circumstance of a manner of introduction somewhat different from what would be expected in a composition of the essay class were worth a very few words of explanation, it might be mentioned, that the following production has grown out of the topics of a discourse, delivered at a public anniversary meeting in aid of the British and Foreign School Society. When it was thought, a good... more...

CHAPTER I. RIGOLETTE'S FIRST SORROW. Rigolette's apartment was still in all its extreme nicety; the large silver watch placed over the mantelpiece, in a small boxwood stand, denoted the hour of four. The severe cold weather having ceased, the thrifty little needlewoman had not lighted her stove. From the window, a corner of blue sky was scarcely perceptible over the masses of irregularly... more...

AN ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND GENIUS OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. When the works of a great writer, who has bequeathed to posterity a lasting legacy, are presented to the world, it is naturally expected that some account of his life should accompany the edition. The reader wishes to know as much as possible of the author. The circumstances that attended him, the features of his private character, his... more...

"Han'some," said Farmer Joe, having stretched himself on the shady side of the forecastle-deck and set his pipe going, "it 'pear's to me that it's about time we heard what happened to you after you got back to your own ship." "You mean on my whaling voyages, I suppose," said Handsome. "That's a right peert guess," responded Farmer Joe. Handsome... more...

THE PURPLE PARASOL Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it seemed to grow. "Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old... more...

CHAPTER XIII THE PURSUIT Behind the sledge ran Howland, to the right of the team ran Jean. Once or twice when Croisset glanced back his eyes met those of the engineer. He cracked his whip and smiled, and Howland's teeth gleamed back coldly in reply. A mutual understanding flashed between them in these glances. In a sudden spurt Howland knew that the Frenchman could quickly put distance between... more...