Classics Books

Nigh upon fifty winters ago, there was growing up in the North a boy named Halfred. In Iceland, on the Hamund Fjord, stood the splendid hall of his father, Hamund. At that time, so the heathen people believe, elves and goblins still moved about freely among the Northern nations. And many say that an elf, who had been friendly to the powerful Hamund, drew near to the shield cradle of the boy Halfred,... more...

The history of men should interest every reader. It is the mirror of mind—imparting lessons of thrilling interest, essential improvement, exquisite pleasure—substantial advantage. It is a matter of deep concern to the investigating student. Remoteness increases veneration. Human foibles are buried in the tomb. Faults are often eclipsed by towering virtues—find no place on the historic page and... more...

Influence of the Pipe. "I see, by a recent paper," said the Observer, as he lit another cigar and resettled himself in his chair, "that a Chicago physician and a lot of fool women, who are evidently jealous of Carrie Nation, are about to start an active crusade against the 'Smoke Nuisance.' This is ambiguous enough to warrant the supposition that their object is the compulsory... more...

CHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH. It is refreshing to turn from the depressing materialism of the present time to the inspiring faith of the Middle Ages. The change of outlook is invigorating; it has on the soul the effect which a bracing atmosphere has on the body. The temper of modern times tends to enfeeble our sense of the supernatural. If we would maintain undiminished our spiritual vigour we must... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SENESCHAL OF DAUPHINY My Lord of Tressan, His Majesty's Seneschal of Dauphiny, sat at his ease, his purple doublet all undone, to yield greater freedom to his vast bulk, a yellow silken undergarment visible through the gap, as is visible the flesh of some fruit that, swollen with over-ripeness, has burst its skin. His wig—imposed upon him by necessity, not fashion lay on the table... more...

Fors Clavigera!—to the ignorant a stumbling-stone, to the Philistines a laughing-stock, but to the Initiate a sweet remembrance of many a happy hour passed in informal chat with the Master. The real Ruskin enthusiast has read every word of Fors, and reckons it not least among the precious treasures of the Master's pen. But it remains a fact that to the vast majority of those who have heard of... more...

Chapter One STEERING OF NEW YORK "Hoo-ee-ow-ohme!" It was half a sob, half a laugh, and, half sobbing, half laughing, the young man stopped his horse on the crest of the Tigmore Hills, in the Ozark Uplift, raised in his stirrups, and looked the country through and through, as though he must see into its very heart. In the brilliant mid-afternoon light the Southwest unrolled below him and around... more...

CHAPTER I "Whaur are ye aff til this bonny mornin', Maggie, my doo?" said the soutar, looking up from his work, and addressing his daughter as she stood in the doorway with her shoes in her hand. "Jist ower to Stanecross, wi' yer leave, father, to speir the mistress for a goupin or twa o' chaff: yer bed aneth ye's grown unco hungry-like." "Hoot, the bed's... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SWEET-SINGERS. When I was a child in short-coats a spaewife came to the town-end, and for a silver groat paid by my mother she riddled my fate. It came to little, being no more than that I should miss love and fortune in the sunlight and find them in the rain. The woman was a haggard, black-faced gipsy, and when my mother asked for more she turned on her heel and spoke gibberish; for... more...

"SHE WANTED HER RIGHTS" Lorinda Cagwin invited Josiah and me to a reunion of the Allen family at her home nigh Washington, D.C., the birthplace of the first Allen we knowed anything about, and Josiah said: "Bein' one of the best lookin' and influential Allens on earth now, it would be expected on him to attend to it." And I fell in with the idee, partly to be done as I would... more...