Classics Books

CHAPTER I A long level of dull gray that further away became a faint blue, with here and there darker patches that looked like water. At times an open space, blackened and burnt in an irregular circle, with a shred of newspaper, an old rag, or broken tin can lying in the ashes. Beyond these always a low dark line that seemed to sink into the ground at night, and rose again in the morning with the first... more...

INTRODUCTION The following narrative, written over eighty years ago, and now at last given to the world in 1906, is remarkable in many respects. It is remarkable for its subject, for its style, and for its literary history. The subject—a deathbed scene—might seem at first sight to be a trite and common one. The mise-en-scène—the Field of Waterloo—alone however redeems it from such a charge;... more...

PREFACE.*          *          *          *          *          *"'I should like to show you a series of eight articles, Sir, that have appeared in the Eatanswill Gazette. I think I may venture to say that you would not be long in establishing your opinions on a firm and solid basis, Sir.' "'I dare say I should turn very blue long... more...

THE MOUNTAINS WASHINGTON GLADDEN '59   O, proudly rise the monarchs of our mountain land,    With their kingly forest robes, to the sky,  Where Alma Mater dwelleth with her chosen band,    Where the peaceful river floweth gently by.       Chorus.  The mountains! the mountains! we greet them with a song!  Whose echoes, rebounding their woodland heights along,  Shall mingle... 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. The managing editor of the New York Argus sat at his desk with a deep frown on his face, looking out from under his shaggy eyebrows at the young man who had just thrown a huge fur overcoat on the back of one chair, while he sat down himself on another. 'I got your telegram,' began the editor. 'Am I to understand from it that you have failed?' 'Yes, sir,'... more...

To Mr. Ray Gilbert Late Student, Aged Twenty-three Were you an older man, my dear Ray, your letter would be consigned to the flames unanswered, and our friendship would become constrained and formal, if it did not end utterly. But knowing you to be so many years my junior, and so slightly acquainted with yourself or womankind, I am going to be the friend you need, instead of the misfortune you invite.... more...

CHAPTER I. EARLY LIFE. At the earnest solicitation of many dear friends I have consented to leave on record some of the incidents that have fallen under my personal observation during three-score and ten years. My father, Daniel Smith, was a native of Eastern New York, and for many years an approved minister in the Society of Friends. He was a man of ability and influence, of clear perceptions, and... more...

INTRODUCTION Though Southern rural life has necessarily changed since the Civil War, I doubt that there is in the entire South a place where it has changed less than on the Burge Plantation, near Covington, Georgia. And I do not know in the whole country a place that I should rather see again in springtime—the Georgia springtime, when the air is like a tonic vapor distilled from the earth, from pine... more...

Chapter One GOOD-BYE—good-bye, Rosina!” cried Jack, giving one last violent wave to his handkerchief. And then he put it back in his pocket, because the crowd upon the deck of the departing Liner had now become a mere blur in the distance, and distant blurs seemed to his practical nature unworthy any further outlay of personal energy. “But oh!” he added, as he and Carter turned to quit the... more...