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Classics Books
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by:
Octave Feuillet
CHAPTER I. "THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH" Near eleven o'clock, one evening in the month of May, a man about fifty years of age, well formed, and of noble carriage, stepped from a coupe in the courtyard of a small hotel in the Rue Barbet-de-Jouy. He ascended, with the walk of a master, the steps leading to the entrance, to the hall where several servants awaited him. One of them followed him...
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by:
Francis Day
CHAPTER I "Get along, you little beast!" Madame Podvin accompanied her admonition with a vigorous blow from her heavy hand. "Out, I say!" Thump. "You lazy caniche!" Thump. "You get no breakfast here this morning!" Thump. "Out with you!" Thump. In the mean time the unhappy object of these objurgations and blows had been rapidly propelled towards the open door, and...
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CHAPTER I Were the events of this nether sphere governed by the calculus of probabilities, Count Abel Larinski and Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz would almost unquestionably have arrived at the end of their respective careers without ever having met. Count Larinski lived in Vienna, Austria; Mlle. Moriaz never had been farther from Paris than Cormeilles, where she went every spring to remain throughout the...
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CHAPTER I Not long since there lived, in the city of Philadelphia, a young man of singular identity. His only parallel was the comedian who is compelled to take himself seriously and make the most of it, or a tart plum that concludes in a mellow prune. He was the affinity of two celebrated instances to the contrary. To those who enjoy the whimsies of paradox he presented an astonishing resemblance, in...
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THE ADVENT OF THE ANGEL. The ladies of the Tenement felt that it was a matter concerning the reputation of the house. Therefore on this particular hot July morning they were gathered in the apartment of Miss Mary Carew and Miss Norma Bonkowski, if one small and dingy room may be so designated, and were putting the matter under discussion. Miss Carew, tall, bony, and more commonly known to the Tenement...
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by:
Evelyn Whitaker
CHAPTER I. The Christening—An Outlandish Name—The Organist's Mistake—Farm-work—Tom and Bill—The Baby—Baby and All ath this child been already baptised, or no?' 'No, she ain't; leastwise we don't know as how she 've been or no, so we thought as we 'd best have her done.' The clergyman who was taking Mr Clifford's duty at Downside for that...
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by:
William Congreve
Reader, Some Authors are so fond of a Preface, that they will write one tho’ there be nothing more in it than an Apology for its self. But to show thee that I am not one of those, I will make no Apology for this, but do tell thee that I think it necessary to be prefix’d to this Trifle, to prevent thy overlooking some little pains which I have taken in the Composition of the following Story. ...
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by:
Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER I. Over and over again had Mark and Ruth Elmer read this paragraph, which appeared among the "Norton Items" of the weekly paper published in a neighboring town: "We are sorry to learn that our esteemed fellow-townsman, Mark Elmer, Esq., owing to delicate health, feels compelled to remove to a warmer climate. Having disposed of his property in this place, Mr. Elmer has purchased a...
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by:
Emile Zola
I. My name is Louis Roubien. I am seventy years old. I was born in the village of Saint-Jory, several miles up the Garonne from Toulouse. For fourteen years I battled with the earth for my daily bread. At last, prosperity smiled on we, and last month I was still the richest farmer in the parish. Our house seemed blessed, happiness reigned there. The sun was our brother, and I cannot recall a bad crop....
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by:
M. Jules Cambon
PIERRE LOTI The first appearance of Pierre Loti's works, twenty years ago, caused a sensation throughout those circles wherein the creations of intellect and imagination are felt, studied, and discussed. The author was one who, with a power which no one had wielded before him, carried off his readers into exotic lands, and whose art, in appearance most simple, proved a genuine enchantment for the...
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