Classics Books

CHAPTER I From Denver to Spokane, from El Paso to Fort Benton, men talk of Casey Ryan and smile when they speak his name. Old men with the flat tone of coming senility in their voices will suck at their pipes and cackle reminiscently while they tell you of Casey's tumultuous youth—when he drove the six fastest horses in Colorado on the stage out from Cripple Creek, and whooped past would-be... more...

CHAPTER I. IN THE DAYS OF CHILDHOOD "Carnac! Carnac! Come and catch me, Carnac!" It was a day of perfect summer and hope and happiness in the sweet, wild world behind the near woods and the far circle of sky and pine and hemlock. The voice that called was young and vibrant, and had in it the simple, true soul of things. It had the clearness of a bugle-call, ample and full of life and all... more...

By the middle of the seventeenth century, almost a hundred thousand English men and women had settled in the New World. We sometimes forget that the largest colony across the Atlantic in those early years was not in Virginia, not in New England, but on the small eastern islands of the Caribbean, called the Caribbees. Early existence in the Caribbeanwas brutal, and at first these immigrants struggled... more...

OUTSIDE THE RECORD. In General SessionsCourt Room, June 5, 1896. Dorothy dear: It is over. Warren’s fate is in the hands of the jury. I have done the little I could, but the strain has been almost too much for me. Even now, my heart sinks at the thought that I may have left something undone or failed to see some trap of the District Attorney. For more than two hours I have been sitting here fighting... more...

I "The Signorino will take coffee?" old Marietta asked, as she set the fruit before him. Peter deliberated for a moment; then burned his ships. "Yes," he answered. "But in the garden, perhaps?" the little brown old woman suggested, with a persuasive flourish. "No," he corrected her, gently smiling, and shaking his head, "not perhaps—certainly." Her small, sharp... more...

A CARDINAL SIN. CHAPTER I. On a beautiful, bright morning of the month of May, 18—, a young girl of eighteen years or thereabouts, whose pale, melancholy face reflected only too plainly the wretchedness and privations of her daily life, was wending her way, timidly and with hesitating steps, through that populous quarter of the city known as the Charnier des Innocents, a dreary spot, principally... more...

I THE SUBJECT In these days immediately following the Great War it is well upon beginning anything--even a modest biographical sketch--to consider a few elementals and distinguish them from the changing unessentials, to keep a sound basis of sense and not be led into hysteria, to look carefully again at the beams of our house and not be deceived into thinking that the plaster and the wall paper are the... more...

CHAPTER I. Whoever has been at Friedrichshafen on beautiful Lake Constance, on a clear August day, and watched the sun setting in splendor behind the tops of the beeches of Manzell; whoever has seen the waves of the lake and the snow-capped peaks of the Alps from Sentis to the Allgau Mountains glow in the crimson light, while the notes of the Ave Maria float softly over forest, meadow, and water, will... more...

CHAPTER I THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR SECURES A PAL In a rear room of a quaint little house uptown, a great bronzed-faced man sat at a piano, a dead pipe between his teeth, and absently played the most difficult of Beethoven's sonatas. Though he played it divinely, the three men who sat smoking and talking in a near-by corner paid not the least attention to him. The player, it seemed, did not expect... more...

THE PROLOGUE. These two captives (pointing to PHILOCRATES and TYNDARUS), whom you see standing here, are standing here because—they are both [1] standing, and are not sitting. That I am saying this truly, you are my witnesses. The old man, who lives here (pointing to HEGIO's house), is Hegio—his father (pointing to TYNDARUS). But under what circumstances he is the slave of his own father, that... more...