Classics Books

Showing: 4791-4800 results of 6965

I I Matthew Lanfear had stopped off, between Genoa and Nice, at San Remo in the interest of a friend who had come over on the steamer with him, and who wished him to test the air before settling there for the winter with an invalid wife. She was one of those neurasthenics who really carry their climate—always a bad one—with them, but she had set her mind on San Remo; and Lanfear was willing to pass... more...

PART ONE: MAKING THE MOULD I The company stood at attention, each man looking straight before him at the empty parade ground, where the cinder piles showed purple with evening. On the wind that smelt of barracks and disinfectant there was a faint greasiness of food cooking. At the other side of the wide field long lines of men shuffled slowly into the narrow wooden shanty that was the mess hall. Chins... more...

A wide plain, where the broadening Floss hurries on between its green banks to the sea, and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks its passage with an impetuous embrace. On this mighty tide the black ships–laden with the fresh-scented fir-planks, with rounded sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with the dark glitter of coal–are borne along to the town of St. Ogg's, which shows its aged,... more...

SEARCHING FOR REX "What train did Rex say he would be back on, Roy?" This was the question asked by Mrs. Pell at the breakfast table on the morning that Rex was trudging along the dusty road between New York and Philadelphia. "He didn't say," replied Roy. "He'll surely be home by lunch, though. Scott is going to West Chester with his mother at noon." Lunch hour arrived... more...

CHAPTER I A MAKE-BELIEVE FIGHT "Attention!" That was the word of command heard in the toy section of a large department store one night, after all the customers and clerks had gone home. "Attention!" "Dear me, what is going on?" asked a Calico Clown, as he looked around the corner of a pile of gaily colored building blocks. "Has the Sawdust Doll come back to see us?"... more...

I AM TAKEN OUT OF THE PILLORY AND NARROWLY ESCAPE GOING TO THE WHIPPING-POST. As 'tis the present mode to embellish a history with a portrait of the writer, it will not be amiss if I here at the outset give you some hints by which you may see, as in a frontispiece, the image of that Benet Pengilly who is about to tell you many marvelous things. What kind of man I am you may better judge when you... more...

CHAPTER I. BETH RECEIVES AN INVITATION. Professor De Graf was sorting the mail at the breakfast table. "Here's a letter for you, Beth," said he, and tossed it across the cloth to where his daughter sat. The girl raised her eyebrows, expressing surprise. It was something unusual for her to receive a letter. She picked up the square envelope between a finger and thumb and carefully read the... more...

CHAPTER I The ancient port of Sunwich was basking in the sunshine of a July afternoon. A rattle of cranes and winches sounded from the shipping in the harbour, but the town itself was half asleep. Somnolent shopkeepers in dim back parlours coyly veiled their faces in red handkerchiefs from the too ardent flies, while small boys left in charge noticed listlessly the slow passing of time as recorded by... more...

THE PREFACE. My first business in the world being among the public records of my country, the active thoughts of my youth put me upon taking notes of the general administration of the government; but with no other design, than the gratification of my own inquisitive mind; these lay by me for many years afterwards, obscure and secret, and would forever have done so, had not the following accident... more...

LETTER I Anna Wenbourne St. Ives to Louisa Clifton Wenbourne-Hill Here are we, my dear girl, in the very height of preparation. We begin our journey southward at five tomorrow morning. We shall make a short stay in London, and then proceed to Paris. Expectation is on tiptoe: my busy fancy has pictured to itself Calais, Montreuil, Abbeville, in short every place which the book of post roads enumerates,... more...