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Classics Books
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Anonymous
The Great Chelsea Fire On Sunday April 12, 1908, at about 11 o’clock A. M., an alarm was rung in for a fire in the works of the Boston Blacking Co. on West 3rd St., near the Everett line. The fire department responded immediately and succeeded in putting out the fire with but very little damage, but the forty-mile gale that was blowing at the time carried sparks from the fire to nearby houses, and...
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"You need the rest," said the Business End; "and your wife wants you to go, as well as your doctor. Besides, it's your Sabbatical year, and you, could send back a lot of stuff for the magazine." "Is that your notion of a Sabbatical year?" asked the editor. "No; I throw that out as a bait to your conscience. You needn't write a line while you're gone. I wish...
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THE FENELBY TARIFF Bobberts was the baby, and ever since Bobberts was born—and that was nine months next Wednesday, and just look what a big, fat boy he is now!—his parents had been putting all their pennies into a little pottery pig, so that when Bobberts reached the proper age he could go to college. The money in the little pig bank was officially known as “Bobberts’ Education Fund,” and...
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by:
Horatio Alger
CHAPTER I WALTER SHERWOOD'S LETTER "Here's a letter for you, Doctor Mack," said the housekeeper, as she entered the plain room used as a library and sitting-room by her employer, Doctor Ezekiel Mack. "It's from Walter, I surmise." This was a favorite word with Miss Nancy Sprague, who, though a housekeeper, prided herself on having been a schoolmistress in her earlier...
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Anonymous
The lips of a strange woman drop as an honey-comb, and her mouth is smoother then oyl: But her end is bitter as wormwood, and sharp as a two-edged sword. The Text here presents you with a strange woman; with whom though I desire not to procure you a familiar acquaintance, yet I'le give you such cognizance of her, and excite that abhorrency of her baseness in all your minds, that if any have...
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POST-PRANDIAL WIT There is a sense, of course, in which everything from the pages of Mr. Punch might be regarded as coming into a collection entitled "After Dinner Stories." All good stories are really for telling after dinner. Somehow or other one seldom associates wit and humour with the breakfast table, although the celebrated breakfast parties of Rogers, the banker, were doubtless in no way...
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by:
Gilbert Parker
I "YORK FACTORY, HUDSON'S BAY,"23rd September, 1747. "MY DEAR COUSIN FANNY,—It was a year last April Fool's Day, I left you on the sands there at Mablethorpe, no more than a stone's throw from the Book-in-Hand Inn, swearing that you should never see me or hear from me again. You remember how we saw the coast-guards flash their lights here and there, as they searched the...
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by:
Eleanor Gates
THE COMING OF THE STORKIT was always a puzzle to the little girl how the stork that brought her ever reached the lonely Dakota farm-house on a December afternoon without her being frozen; and it was another mystery, just as deep, how the strange bird, which her mother said was no larger than a blue crane, was able, on leaving, to carry her father away with him to some family, a long, long distance off,...
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by:
Daniel Defoe
The world is so taken up of late with novels and romances, that it will be hard for a private history to be taken for genuine, where the names and other circumstances of the person are concealed, and on this account we must be content to leave the reader to pass his own opinion upon the ensuing sheet, and take it just as he pleases. The author is here supposed to be writing her own history, and in the...
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NCE upon a time there was a beautiful Princess named Fleurette, who lived in a white marble palace on the top of a high hill. The Princess Fleurette was very fond of flowers, and all around the palace, from the very gates thereof, a fair garden, full of all kinds of wonderful plants, sloped down to the foot of the hill, where it was snugly inclosed with a high marble wall. Thus the hill was like a...
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