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Classics Books
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                                 ABNER AND THE WIDOW JONES, A Familiar Ballad. Well! I'm determin'd; that's enough:—  Gee, Bayard! move your poor old bones,I'll take to-morrow, smooth or rough,  To go and court the Widow Jones. Our master talks of stable-room,  And younger horses on his grounds;'Tis easy to foresee thy doom,  Bayard, thou'lt go to feed the hounds. The first Determination. But...
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                by: 
                                George Farquhar                                
            
        
                                 REMARKS.   George Farquhar, the author of this comedy, was the son of a clergyman in the north of Ireland. He was born in the year 1678, discovered an early taste for literature, and wrote poetic stanzas at ten years of age. In 1694 he was sent to Trinity College, Dublin, and there made such progress in his studies as to acquire considerable reputation. But he was volatile and poor—the first...
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                by: 
                                Joseph Conrad                                
            
        
                                 I The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide. The sea-reach of the Thames stretched before us like the beginning of an interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together...
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                by: 
                                Georg Grasser                                
            
        
                                 CLASSIFICATION OF SYNTHETIC TANNINS In laying down a definition of "Synthetic Tannins," it is first of all necessary to clearly define the conception of "tannin." Primarily, tannins may be considered those substances of vegetable origin which may be found, as water-soluble bodies, in many plants, exhibiting certain chemical behaviour, possessing astringent properties and being capable...
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                                 CHAPTER I. JAN’S WEDDING. “Eastward, afar, the coasts of men were seen Dim, shadowy, and spectral; like a still Broad land of spirits lay the vacant sea Beneath the silent heavens—here and there, Perchance, a vessel skimmed the watery waste, Like a white-winged sea-bird, but it moved Too pale and small beneath the vail of space. There, too, went forth the sun Like a white angel, going down to...
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                by: 
                                Henry Fielding                                
            
        
                                 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. There are few amusements more dangerous for an author than the indulgence in ironic descriptions of his own work. If the irony is depreciatory, posterity is but too likely to say, "Many a true word is spoken in jest;" if it is encomiastic, the same ruthless and ungrateful critic is but too likely to take it as an involuntary confession of folly and vanity. But when...
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                by: 
                                Pierre Loti                                
            
        
                                 INTRODUCTION At sea, about two o'clock in the morning, on a clear night, under a star-lit sky. Yves stood near me on the bridge, and we were talking of the country, so utterly unknown to us both, to which the chances of our destiny were now wafting us. As we were to cast anchor the following day, we enjoyed the state of expectation, and formed a thousand plans. "As for me," I said, "I...
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                                 CHAPTER I. DENAS PENELLES. “‘Tell me, my old friend, tell me why You sit and softly laugh by yourself.’ ‘It is because I am repeating to myself, Write! write Of the valiant strength, The calm, brave bearing Of the sons of the sea.’” ––French Rowing Song “And that is why I have written this book Of the things that live in your noble hearts.     You are really the authors of it. I...
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                by: 
                                Dick Francis                                
            
        
                                 The seaplane cast its silhouette from aloft upon the blue Arabian Sea, left its white wake across the shallows, and taxied alongside the ancient stone jetty, clawing into the sandy bottom with its small fore and after anchors. Colonel Glinka stepped out upon the wing, carefully measured the distance to the jetty, and sprang for it, wetting himself up to the seat of his voluminous khaki shorts. This...
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                                 POETRY By Arthur Quiller-Couch "Trust in good verses then: They only shall aspire, When pyramids, as men Are lost i'the funeral fire." As the tale is told by Plato, in the tenth book of his Republic, one Er the son of Arminius, a Pamphylian, was slain in battle; and ten days afterwards, when they collected the bodies for burial, his body alone showed no taint of corruption. His relatives,...
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