Classics Books

CHAPTER I ON FURLOUGH IN THE OLD HOME TOWN "My son, Richard. He is home on his furlough from the MilitaryAcademy at West Point." Words would fail in describing motherly pride with which Mrs. Prescott introduced her son to Mrs. Davidson, wife of the new pastor. "I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Prescott," said Mrs. Davidson, looking up, for up she had to glance in order to see the face of... more...

It was before the Idiot's marriage, and in the days when he was nothing more than a plain boarder in Mrs. Smithers-Pedagog's High-class Home for Single Gentlemen, that he put what the School-master termed his "alleged mind" on plans for the amelioration of the condition of the civilized. "The trials of the barbarian are really nothing as compared with the tribulations of civilized... more...

PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR JONES Too long the Tragick Muse hath aw'd the stage,And frighten'd wives and children with her rage,Too long Drawcansir roars, Parthenope weeps,While ev'ry lady cries, and critick sleepsWith ghosts, rapes, murders, tender hearts they wound,Or else, like thunder, terrify with soundWhen the skill'd actress to her weeping eyes,With artful sigh, the handkerchief... more...

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PROLOGUE. It was November in London. The great city was buried under a dank, yellow fog. Traffic was temporarily checked; foot passengers groped their way by the light of the street lamps, and the hoarse shouts of the link boys running before cabs and carriages with blazing torches rang at intervals above the muffled rumble of countless wheels. In the coffee-room of a quiet hotel on the Strand a young... more...

THE STEAMBOAT PIER The steamboat Manasquan was advertised to leave her pier on the east side of the city at half-past nine on a July morning. At nine o'clock Walter Lodloe was on the forward upper deck, watching the early passengers come on board, and occasionally smiling as his glance fell upon a tall man in a blue flannel shirt, who, with a number of other deck-hands, was hard at work... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SWEET-SINGERS. When I was a child in short-coats a spaewife came to the town-end, and for a silver groat paid by my mother she riddled my fate. It came to little, being no more than that I should miss love and fortune in the sunlight and find them in the rain. The woman was a haggard, black-faced gipsy, and when my mother asked for more she turned on her heel and spoke gibberish; for... more...

PREFACE. It is an oft-quoted proposition of Rousseau, that “the glory of woman lies in being unknown.” If this be true, we shall deserve little credit for placing before the world these brief sketches of a few of the sex who have acquired celebrity among mankind. We are disposed to think, however, that the oracular words of the Genevan philosopher—though they may coincide with the despotism of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE TWO COMRADES. "War has been declared, mother!" shouted Hal, as closely followed by his friend, Chester Crawford, he dashed into the great hotel in Berlin, where the three were stopping, and made his way through the crowd that thronged the lobby to his mother's side. "Yes, mother, it's true," continued Hal, seeing the look of consternation on Mrs. Paine's... more...

CHAPTER I FATHERLESS Lad stood looking out of the dormer window in a scantily furnished attic in the high-pitched roof of a house in Holborn, in September 1664. Numbers of persons were traversing the street below, many of them going out through the bars, fifty yards away, into the fields beyond, where some sports were being held that morning, while country people were coming in with their baskets from... more...