Classics Books

CHAPTER I. THE TAPIS-FRANC. It was on a cold and rainy night, towards the end of October, 1838, that a tall and powerful man, with an old broad-brimmed straw hat upon his head, and clad in a blue cotton carter's frock, which hung loosely over trousers of the same material, crossed the Pont au Change, and darted with a hasty step into the Cité, that labyrinth of obscure, narrow, and winding... more...

Forming the northeastern border of Mexico, Tamaulipas extends in an elongated, north-south direction from the Temperate into the Torrid Zone and contains faunal elements from both the Nearctic and Neotropical regions. The mammals are less known than those from some of the bordering states; for the most part collecting has been limited to a few localities, chiefly along the Pan-American Highway.... more...

PRELUDE. WHY, dreams from dreams in dreams remembered! naught Save this, alas! that once it seemed I thought I wandered dim with someone, but I knew Not who; most beautiful and good and true, Yet sad through suffering; with curl-crowned brow, Soft eyes and voice; so white she haunts me now:— And when, and where?—At night in dreamland. She Led me athwart a flower-showered lea Where trammeled... more...

A little more than an hour after this he stood in the parlour of Doctor Tarrant's suburban residence, in Monadnoc Place. He had induced a juvenile maid-servant, by an appeal somewhat impassioned, to let the ladies know that he was there; and she had returned, after a long absence, to say that Miss Tarrant would come down to him in a little while. He possessed himself, according to his wont, of the... more...

CHAPTER I This is not a story about myself. Like Canning's organ-grinder I have none to tell. It is the story of Paragot, the belovéd vagabond—please pronounce his name French-fashion—and if I obtrude myself on your notice it is because I was so much involved in the medley of farce and tragedy which made up some years of his life, that I don't know how to tell the story otherwise. To... more...

PECK'S BAD BOY. CHAPTER I. THE BOY WITH A LAME BACK—THE BOY COULDN'T SIT DOWN—APRACTICAL JOKE ON THE OLD MAN—A LETTER FROM "DAISY"—GUARDING THE FOUR CORNERS—THE OLD MAN IS UNUSUALLYGENEROUS—MA ASKS AWKWARD QUESTIONS—THE BOY TALKED TO WITHA BED-SLAT—NO ENCOURAGEMENT FOR A BOY! A young fellow who is pretty smart on general principles, and who is always in good humor,... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY—A WORD OF WISDOM, FOUND WRITTEN, LIKE THE MOST ANCIENT, ON LEATHER 'Ah! old men's boots don't go there, sir!' said the bootmaker to me one day, as he pointed to the toes of a pair I had just brought him for mending. It was a significant observation, I thought; and as I went on my way home, writing another such chronicle with every springing step, it filled... more...

GIVE THE DEVIL HER DUE It was going to be a perfect June day. Already a cloudless, azure sky, promising no hint of rain, arched over a shimmering campus. All shades of green were represented and so was every color in the flowers that lined the walks and burst forth from the beds. In perfect compliment, the lovely old brick and stone buildings sat around the campus, complaisant and secure, full of pride... more...

ou again, Weldon," the Medical Examiner said wearily. I nodded pleasantly and looked around the shabby room with a feeling of hopeful eagerness. Maybe this time, I thought, I'd get the answer. I had the same sensation I always had in these places—the quavery senile despair at being closed in a room with the single shaky chair, tottering bureau, dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, the flaking... more...

CHAPTER I When the widow of Martino Consalvi married young Corbario, people shook their heads and said that she was making a great mistake. Consalvi had been dead a good many years, but as yet no one had thought it was time to say that his widow was no longer young and beautiful, as she had always been. Many rich widows remain young and beautiful as much as a quarter of a century, or even longer, and... more...