Classics Books

CHAPTER I A DANGEROUS ERRAND A city of hills with a fringe of houses crowning the lower heights; half-mountains rising bare in the background and becoming real mountains as they stretched away in the distance to right and left; a confused mass of buildings coming to the water's edge on the flat; a forest of masts, ships swinging in the stream, and the streaked, yellow, gray-green water of the bay... more...

CHAPTER I. The Trial. Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an innocent man. He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces. But on this morning,... more...

EDWARD LEAR England, 1812-1888 The Owl and the Pussy-CatThe Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat.They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the moon above,And sang to a small guitar,"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love!What a beautiful Pussy you are,—You are;What a beautiful Pussy you are!"10 Pussy said to the Owl,... more...

CHAPTER I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT. "The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life." "It is the Professor von Holzen," said a stout woman who still keeps the egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague; she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live—"it is the Professor von... more...

DEAD MEN'S DUST.You don't buy poetry. (Neither do I.)Why?You cannot afford it? Bosh! you spend Editions de luxeon a thirsty friend.You can buy any one of the poetry bunchFor the price you pay for a business lunch.Don't you suppose that a hungry head,Like an empty stomach, ought to be fed?Looking into myself, I find this true,So I hardly can figure it false in you.And you... more...

CHAPTER I. AN ADVERTISEMENT. A small boy with a tiny white dog in his arms stood near the New York approach to the Brooklyn Bridge on a certain June morning not many years since, gazing doubtfully at the living tide which flowed past him, as if questioning whether it might be safe to venture across the street. Seth Barrows, otherwise known by his acquaintances as Limpy Seth, because of what they were... more...

INTRODUCTION I The development of Tennyson's genius, methods, aims and capacity of achievement in poetry can be studied with singular precision and fulness in the history of the poems included in the present volume. In 1842 he published the two volumes which gave him, by almost general consent, the first place among the poets of his time, for, though Wordsworth was alive, Wordsworth's best... more...

THE DREAMER Roger was only seven. He was tall for his age and very thin. He had a thick crop of black hair and his eyes were large and precisely the color of the summer sky that lifted above the Moores' back yard. These were the little boy's only claims to beauty, for even at this time Roger's face was too much of the intellectual type to be handsome. Beauty is seldom intelligent.... more...

CHAPTER VI For the first few days after his return Sunwich was full of surprises to Jem Hardy. The town itself had changed but little, and the older inhabitants were for the most part easily recognisable, but time had wrought wonders among the younger members of the population: small boys had attained to whiskered manhood, and small girls passing into well-grown young women had in some cases even... more...

EDWARD EVERETT IN 1862. The house was full, and murmurous with the pleasant chat and rustling movement of well-dressed persons of both sexes who waited patiently the coming of the orator, looking at the expanse of stage, which was carpeted, and covered with rows of settees that went backward from the footlights to a landscape of charming freshness of color, that might have been set for the "Maid of... more...