Fiction
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Classics Books
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by:
Mosiah Hall
THE BIRTHRIGHT OF CHILDHOOD It Is the Sacred Right of the Child To Be Well-Born If the child has any divine right in this world, it is the right to be well-born, to be brought into the world sound of body and whole in mind. To be given anything short of such a good beginning is to be handicapped throughout life. Education and training cannot make up for the defects imposed on the child by the sins of...
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by:
Richard Burton
CHAPTER I FICTION AND THE NOVEL All the world loves a story as it does a lover. It is small wonder then that stories have been told since man walked erect and long before transmitted records. Fiction, a conveniently broad term to cover all manner of story-telling, is a hoary thing and within historical limits we can but get a glimpse of its activity. Because it is so diverse a thing, it may be regarded...
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by:
Harriet A. Adams
DAWN. CHAPTER I. They sat together in the twilight conversing. Three years, with their alternations of joy and grief had swept over their married life, bringing their hearts into closer alliance, as each new emotion thrilled and upheaved the buried life within. That night their souls seemed attuned to a richer melody than ever before; and as the twilight deepened, and one by one the stars appeared, the...
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by:
Rafael Sabatini
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...
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by:
Jean Ingelow
CHAPTER I. A WATCHER OF LILIES. "Unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid."—Collect, English Communion Service. In one of the south-western counties of England, some years ago, and in a deep, well-wooded valley where men made perry and cider, wandered little and read less, there was a hamlet with neither farm nor cottage in it, that had not stood two...
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by:
Louis Zangwill
CHAPTER I. It was past midnight, and both men were smoking leisurely by the study fireside. Morgan Druce sat just on the edge of a low chair, his long, slim body bent forward, his clean-shaven boyish face well within the glow of the fire. Though he appeared to be looking at it, he was only conscious of its warmth. Robert Ingram, middle-aged and bearded, lolled back in sensuous comfort. "The long...
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by:
Allen Johnson
CHAPTER I FRANCE OF THE BOURBONS France, when she undertook the creation of a Bourbon empire beyond the seas, was the first nation of Europe. Her population was larger than that of Spain, and three times that of England. Her army in the days of Louis Quatorze, numbering nearly a half-million in all ranks, was larger than that of Rome at the height of the imperial power. No nation since the fall of...
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Once upon a timeâbut whether in the time past or time to come is a matter of little or no momentâthis wide world had become so overburdened with an accumulation of worn-out trumpery, that the inhabitants determined to rid themselves of it by a general bonfire. The site fixed upon at the representation of the insurance companies, and as being as central a spot as any other on the globe, was...
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by:
Thomas Fowler
CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. THE SANCTIONS OF CONDUCT. All reflecting men acknowledge that both the theory and the practice of morality have advanced with the general advance in the intelligence and civilisation of the human race. But, if this be so, morality must be a matter capable of being reasoned about, a subject of investigation and of teaching, in which the less intelligent members of a community...
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by:
Unknown
CHAPTER I. How a Dove-cot was fluttered in Rossmoyne. The old-fashioned clock is ticking loudly, ponderously, as though determined to betray the flight of fickle time and impress upon the happy, careless ones that the end of all things is at hand. The roses knock their fragrant buds against the window-panes, calling attention to their dainty sweetness. The pigeons coo amorously upon the sills outside,...
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