Classics Books

Chapter One. Unknown Cousins. “What is your letter, my dear? You seem annoyed. No bad news, I hope,” said the master of Chedworth Manor, looking across the table to where his wife eat behind the urn, frowning over the sheet which she held in her hand. She was a handsome, well-preserved woman, with aquiline features, thin lips, and eyes of a pale, indefinite blue. She looked up as he spoke, then... more...

HAPPY LITTLE EDWARD. Edward Jones was about four years old. He was a good, and of course a happy little boy, and he lived in a beautiful city in Connecticut, with his kind parents, and his brothers and sisters, and a dear good aunt, who took care of him. Edward's mother had a sister living in Massachusetts, who was the wife of a farmer, and one beautiful Spring morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jones... more...

CHAPTER I. Mr. Hallam's View of the Development of the Constitution.—Symptoms of approaching Constitutional Changes.—State of the Kingdom at the Accession of George III.—Improvement of the Law affecting the Commissions of the Judges.—Restoration of Peace.—Lord Bute becomes Minister.—The Case of Wilkes.—Mr. Luttrell is Seated for Middlesex by the House of Commons.—Growth of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE NEW ARRIVAL AT GOLD CITY. The stage was late at Gold City. It always was. Everybody knew it, but everybody pretended to expect it on time. Just exactly as the old court-house bell up the hill struck six, the postmistress hurriedly opened her door and stood anxiously peering up the street, the loafers who had been dozing on the saloon benches shuffled out and leaned up against the posts,... more...

                    "The lopped tree in time may grow again,                   Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower;                   The sorriest wight may find release from pain,                   The driest soil suck in some moistening shower:                   Time goes by turns, and... more...

The Rake's Progress I borrow De Quincey's Confessionsof an Opium Eater, the aforementionedan account of that singularOriental vice,whereupon misplacing the volumein transitfrom the checkpoint, I attemptto capsulizethe book's misadventures only tosuffer taciturnityon the part of the staff until,the duplicityof a continued numbers game inChinese wearingthin and with lassitude similar tothe... more...

CHAPTER I. "It is not a question of what we should like to do, Randy; it is a question of what we must do." "I know it, Earl. One thing is certain: the way matters stand we can't pay the quarter's rent for this timber land to-morrow unless we borrow the money, and where we are going for it I haven't the least idea." "Nor I. It's a pity the Jackson Lumber Company... more...

CHAPTER I. IN THE QUIET HOUSE. In the Ober Engadin, on the highway up to Maloja, stands the lonely village of Sils; and back towards the mountains, across the fields, nestles a little cluster of huts known as Sils Maria. Here, in an open field, two cottages stand, facing each other. Noticeable in both are the old wooden house-doors, and the tiny windows quite imbedded in the thick walls. A bit of a... more...

It seemed to be the same tree that kept getting in my way. I tried to go around it but it moved with me and I ran right into it. I found myself sprawled on my back and my nose was bleeding where I had hit it against the tree. Then I got up and ran again. I had to keep running. I didn't know why; I just had to. There was a puddle of water and I splashed through it and then slipped and fell into a... more...

Chapter ION THE ROADIn the eventful year, 1815, I was exactly three-and-twenty, and had just succeeded to a very large sum in consols and other securities. The first fall of Napoleon had thrown the continent open to English excursionists, anxious, let us suppose, to improve their minds by foreign travel; and I—the slight check of the "hundred days" removed, by the genius of Wellington, on the... more...