Classics Books

SCHOOL I Life seemed to Martin Leigh, as he gazed at the wooden walls of his cubicle, very overwhelming: there were so many things to remember. He had lived through his first day as a boarder at a public school and at length he had the great joy of knowing that for nine hours there would be nothing to find out. He seemed to have been finding things out ever since seven o'clock that morning:... more...

THE BANKS OF THE WYE. BOOK I. "Rouse from thy slumber, pleasure calls, arise,Quit thy half-rural bower, awhile despiseThe thraldom that consumes thee. We who dwellFar from thy land of smoke, advise thee well.Here Nature's bounteous hand around shall fling,Scenes that thy Muse hath never dar'd to sing.When sickness weigh'd thee down, and strength declin'd;When dread eternity... more...

CHAPTER I. STAR BRIGHT The Captain had sold all his lobsters. They had been particularly fine ones, and had gone off "like hot cakes," everyone who passed by the wharf stopping to buy one or two. Now the red dory was empty, and the Captain had washed her out with his usual scrupulous care, and was making preparations for his homeward voyage, when he was hailed by a cheery voice from the street.... more...

During the summer of 1867 I had the opportunity (which I had often wished for) of expressing in print my estimate and admiration of the works of the American poet Walt Whitman.[1] Like a stone dropped into a pond, an article of that sort may spread out its concentric circles of consequences. One of these is the invitation which I have received to edit a selection from Whitman's writings; virtually... more...

CHAPTER I SENT INTO SERVITUDE Knowing this to be a narrative of unusual adventure, and one which may never even be read until long after I have departed from this world, when it will be difficult to convince readers that such times as are herein depicted could ever have been reality, I shall endeavor to narrate each incident in the simplest manner possible. My only purpose is truth, and my only witness... more...

WHAT IS THE IDEA? We have only started on our development of our country—we have not as yet, with all our talk of wonderful progress, done more than scratch the surface. The progress has been wonderful enough—but when we compare what we have done with what there is to do, then our past accomplishments are as nothing. When we consider that more power is used merely in ploughing the soil than is used... more...

PREFACE.Observations extending over a period of twenty-five years, made at Fungus Forays and kindred meetings where Mycologists assemble together, has led to the conviction that familiarity with the Fungi and literature pertaining thereto, of one country only, leads to a false impression as to the significance of the term 'species.' It conveys the idea that species are much more sharply... more...

A GUEST AT THE LUDLOW I We are stopping quietly here, taking our meals in our rooms mostly, and going out very little indeed. When I say we, I use the term editorially. We notice first of all the great contrast between this and other hotels, and in several instances this one is superior. In the first place, there is a sense of absolute security when one goes to sleep here that can not be felt at a... more...

THE THREE SISTERS Thirty years ago on a wet autumn evening the household of Mallett's Lodge was gathered round the death-bed of Ursula Mallow, the eldest of the three sisters who inhabited it. The dingy moth-eaten curtains of the old wooden bedstead were drawn apart, the light of a smoking oil-lamp falling upon the hopeless countenance of the dying woman as she turned her dull eyes upon her... more...

PREFACE When my publishers were good enough to propose that I should undertake this book, they were also good enough to suggest that the Introduction should be of a character somewhat different from that of a school-anthology, and should attempt to deal with the Art of Letter-writing, and the nature of the Letter, as such. I formed a plan accordingly, by which the letters, and their separate Prefatory... more...