Classics Books

CHAPTER I BAD TRAINING FOR A KNIGHT Egbert Haldane had an enemy who loved him very dearly, and he sincerely returned her affection, as he was in duty bound, since she was his mother. If, inspired by hate and malice, Mrs. Haldane had brooded over but one question at the cradle of her child, How can I most surely destroy this boy? she could scarcely have set about the task more skilfully and... more...

BOOK I A MISCELLANY I - LA MARE DES FEES The leaves rain down upon the forest pond,An elfin tarn green-shadowed in the fern;Nine yews ensomber the wet bank, beyondThe autumn branches of the beeches burnWith yellow flame and red amid the green,And patches of the darkening sky between. This is an ancient country; in this woodThe Druids raised their sacrificial stones;Here the vast timeless silences still... more...

"WEEP NO MORE, MY LADY" A young woman was crying bitterly in the waiting-room of the railway station at Upper Asquewan Falls, New York. A beautiful young woman? That is exactly what Billy Magee wanted to know as, closing the waiting-room door behind him, he stood staring just inside. Were the features against which that frail bit of cambric was agonizingly pressed of a pleasing contour? The... more...

HENRY ESMOND [Illustration: HENRY ESMOND AND THE CASTLEWOODS.] When Francis, fourth Viscount Castlewood, came to his title, and, presently after, to take possession of his house of Castlewood, County Hants, in the year 1691, almost the only tenant of the place besides the domestics was a lad of twelve years of age, of whom no one seemed to take any note until my Lady Viscountess lighted upon him, going... more...

APPENDIX I. It seems impossible to separate by any exact line the genuine writings of Plato from the spurious. The only external evidence to them which is of much value is that of Aristotle; for the Alexandrian catalogues of a century later include manifest forgeries. Even the value of the Aristotelian authority is a good deal impaired by the uncertainty concerning the date and authorship of the... more...

"Painter and son of nature," wrote Voltaire, at that time the arbitrator and the dispenser of fame in cultured Europe, to Carlo Goldoni, then a rising dramatist, "I would entitle your comedies, 'Italy liberated from the Goths.'" The sage of Ferney's quick critical faculty had once again hit its sure mark, for it is Goldoni's supreme merit, and one of his chief titles... more...

Chapter I A boy's profession is not infrequently chosen for him by his parents, which perhaps accounts for the curious fact that the shrewd, business-like member of a family often becomes a painter, while the artistic, unpractical one becomes a member of the Stock Exchange, in course of time, naturally. My profession was forced upon me, to begin with, by my sisters-in-law, and in the subsequent... more...

In the surgical ward of the Hope Hospital at Hanaford, a nurse was bending over a young man whose bandaged right hand and arm lay stretched along the bed. His head stirred uneasily, and slipping her arm behind him she effected a professional readjustment of the pillows. "Is that better?" As she leaned over, he lifted his anxious bewildered eyes, deep-sunk under ridges of suffering. "I... more...

FAIRY PRINCE In my father's house were many fancies. Always, for instance, on every Thanksgiving Day it was the custom in our family to bud the Christmas tree. Young Derry Willard came from Cuba. His father and our father had been chums together at college. None of us had ever seen him before. We were very much excited to have a strange young man invited for Thanksgiving dinner. My sister Rosalee... more...

FELICITY "Hallo, Greenstock! Lady Chetwode in?" "Her ladyship is not at home, sir. But she is sure to see you, Master Savile," said the butler, with a sudden and depressing change of manner, from correct impassibility to the conventional familiarity of a patronising old retainer. "Dressing, eh? You look all right Greenstock." "Well, I am well, and I am not well, Master... more...