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Classics Books
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by:
Edwin Arnold
Book The First The Scripture of the Saviour of the World,Lord Buddha—Prince Siddartha styled on earthIn Earth and Heavens and Hells Incomparable,All-honoured, Wisest, Best, most Pitiful;The Teacher of Nirvana and the Law. Then came he to be born again for men. Below the highest sphere four Regents sitWho rule our world, and under them are zonesNearer, but high, where saintliest spirits deadWait...
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by:
Egerton Castle
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. Among the works of every writer of Fiction there are generally one or two that owe their being to some haunting thought, long communed with—a thought which has at last found a living shape in some story of deed and passion. I say one or two advisedly: for the span of man's active life is short and such haunting fancies are, of their essence, solitary. As a matter...
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by:
Frank Bacon
"Him?" the local postmaster of Calivada would say, in reply to your question about the quaint little old man who had just ambled away from the desk with a bundle of letters stuffed in his pocket. "Why, that's Lightnin' Bill Jones! We call him Lightnin' because he ain't. Nature didn't give no speed to Bill. No, sir, far as I know, Lightnin' 'ain't...
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Dear Shiny-headed Angel, I hope you won't mind, but I've changed all my plans. I've bought an automobile, or a motor-car, as they call it over here; and while I'm writing to you, Aunt Mary is having nervous prostration on a sofa in a corner at least a hundred years old-I mean the sofa, not the corner, which is a good deal more. But perhaps I'd better explain. Well, to begin...
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by:
Richard Carew
LIST of the SUBSCRIBERS, A. Copies. SIR. John St. Aubyn, of Clowance, Baronet 20Rev. Mr. Jerveys Allen, of HelstonThomas Saunders Allen of St. Just, Attorney at LawAlexander Allen, Purser of the Wolf Sloop of WarJohn Antony, of St. IvesJohn Antony, junior, of St. Ives B. Joseph Beard, of PenzanceJohn Batten, jun. of ditto, MerchantJoseph Batten, of dittoJohn Blewett, Esq. of Marazion 4George Borlase,...
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by:
Irving Bacheller
CHAPTER I THE MELON HARVEST Once upon a time I owned a watermelon. I say once because I never did it again. When I got through owning that melon I never wanted another. The time was 1831; I was a boy of seven and the melon was the first of all my harvests. Every night and morning I watered and felt and surveyed my watermelon. My pride grew with the melon and, by and by, my uncle tried to express the...
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by:
Hamlin Garland
THE LIGHT OF THE STAR FTER the appointment with Miss Merival reached him (through the hand of her manager), young Douglass grew feverishly impatient of the long days which lay between. Waiting became a species of heroism. Each morning he reread his manuscript and each evening found him at the theatre, partly to while away the time, but mainly in order that he might catch some clew to the real woman...
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by:
L. T. Meade
CHAPTER I. NORA. "Why, then, Miss Nora—" "Yes, Hannah?" "You didn't see the masther going this way, miss?" "What do you mean, Hannah? Father is never at home at this hour." "I thought maybe—" said Hannah. She spoke in a dubious voice, backing a little away. Hannah was a small, squat woman, of a truly Irish type. Her nose was celestial, her mouth wide,...
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It was the end of May, when "spring goeth all in white." The apple trees were scattering their delicate petals on the ground, dropping them over the stone walls to the roadsides, where in the moist places of the shadows they fell on beds of snowy innocence. Here and there a single tree was tinged with pink, but so faintly, it was as if the white were blushing. Now and then a tiny white...
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CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG EMIGRANT. [Illustration] The first recollections of Fernando Stevens, the hero of this romance, were of "moving." He was sitting on his mother's knee. How long he had been sitting there he did not know, nor did he know how he came there; but he knew that it was his mother and that they were in a great covered wagon, and that he had a sister and brother, older than...
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