Classics Books

THE TURN OF THE SCREW The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve in an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that it was the only case he had met in which such a visitation had fallen on a child. The case, I may mention, was that of an... more...

he first time Juba saw him, she couldn't help recalling the description of Ariovistus in Julius Caesar: Hominem esse barbarum, iracundum, temerarium. She unpinned the delicate laesa from her hair, for Terran spacemen are educated, and if they have a choice, or seem to have, prefer seduction to rape. Step. I. A soft answer turneth away wrath, leaving time for making plans. He caught the flower,... more...

An Unprecedented Proposal "Well, why shouldn't we change it?" asked Mrs. Bateman, as she scooped out the grape-fruit that formed the first course at the P. W.'s regular monthly luncheon. "Change it? Change what?—How?" asked several voices at once. "The state of affairs in this city," pursued Mrs. Bateman calmly. "I have been thinking things over since I got home... more...

CHAPTER I. Of my companions and our adversities, and in particular from our getting into the stocks at Tottenham Cross to our being robbed at Edmonton. There being no plays to be acted at the "Red Bull," because of the Plague, and the players all cast adrift for want of employment, certain of us, to wit, Jack Dawson and his daughter Moll, Ned Herring, and myself, clubbed our monies together to... more...

CHAPTER I An eight-mile drive over rain-washed Irish roads in the quick-falling dust of autumn is an experience trying to the patience, even to the temper, of the average Saxon. Yet James Milbanke made neither comment nor objection as mile after mile of roadway spun away like a ribbon behind him, as the mud rose in showers from the wheels of the old-fashioned trap in which he sat, and the half-trained... more...

I. The friends of Dean Ramsay desiring a memorial of his life, his friendly publishers, and his nearest relatives, have asked me to undertake the work, and placed in my hands some materials giving authentic facts and dates, and illustrating the Dean's own views on the leading events of his life. I feel myself excluded from dealing with one important part of such a life, for I could not take upon... more...

THE MARTIAN "BARTY JOSSELIN IS NO MORE...." When so great a man dies, it is generally found that a tangled growth of more or less contentious literature has already gathered round his name during his lifetime. He has been so written about, so talked about, so riddled with praise or blame, that, to those who have never seen him in the flesh, he has become almost a tradition, a myth—and one... more...

CHAPTER I. "You have kept us waiting an age! Come along, Bet, do." "She ain't going to funk it, surely!" "No, no, not she,—she's a good 'un, Bet is,—come along, Bet. Joe Wilkins is waiting for us round the corner, and he says Sam is to be there, and Jimmy, and Hester Wright: do come along, now." "Will Hester Wright sing?" suddenly demanded the girl who... more...

PART I THE EVENING SKYRose-bosom'd and rose-limb'dWith eyes of dazzling brightShakes Venus mid the twinèd boughs of the night;Rose-limb'd, soft-steppingFrom low bough to boughShaking the wide-hung starry fruitage—dimmedIts bloom of snowBy that sole planetary glow.Venus, avers the astronomer,Not thus idly dancing goesFlushing the eternal orchard with wild rose.She through ether... more...

CHAPTER I It was sunrise on the Colorado desert. As the advance guard of dawn emerged from behind the serrated peaks to the east and paused on their snow-encrusted summits before charging down the slopes into the open desert to rout the lingering shadows of the night, a coyote came out of his den in the tumbled malpais at the foot of the range, pointed his nose skyward and voiced his matutinal salute... more...