Classics Books

The sea was very calm. There was no ship in sight, and the sea-gulls were motionless upon its even greyness. The sky was dark with lowering clouds, but there was no wind. The line of the horizon was clear and delicate. The shingly beach, no less deserted, was thick with tangled seaweed, and the innumerable shells crumbled under the feet that trod them. The breakwaters, which sought to prevent the... more...

I.  It was when coming back to the mines, after a trip to Monterey, that the Girl first met him. It happened, too, just at a time when her mind was ripe to receive a lasting impression. But of all this the boys of Cloudy Mountain Camp heard not a word, needless to say, until long afterwards. Lolling back on the rear seat of the stage, her eyes half closed,—the sole passenger now, and with the seat... more...

CHAPTER I. LIFE ON A COTTON PLANTATION. * * * * * BIRTH—SOLD IN A RICHMOND SLAVE PEN. I was born in Virginia, in 1832, near Charlottesville, in the beautiful valley of the Rivanna river. My father was a white man and my mother a negress, the slave of one John Martin. I was a mere child, probably not more than six years of age, as I remember, when my mother, two brothers and myself were... more...

I BROWN HIMSELF Brown was so tall and thin, and his study was so low and square, that the one in the other seemed a misfit. There was not much in the study. A few shelves of books—not all learned books by any means—three chairs, one of them a rocker cushioned in a cheerful red; a battered old desk; a broad and rather comfortable looking couch: this was nearly all the study's furniture. There... more...

BOOK I A MISCELLANY I - LA MARE DES FEES The leaves rain down upon the forest pond,An elfin tarn green-shadowed in the fern;Nine yews ensomber the wet bank, beyondThe autumn branches of the beeches burnWith yellow flame and red amid the green,And patches of the darkening sky between. This is an ancient country; in this woodThe Druids raised their sacrificial stones;Here the vast timeless silences still... more...

CHAPTER I The road from Wellmouth Centre to East Wellmouth is not a good one; even in dry weather and daylight it is not that. For the first two miles it winds and twists its sandy way over bare hills, with cranberry swamps and marshy ponds in the hollows between. Then it enters upon a three-mile stretch bordered with scrubby pines and bayberry thickets, climbing at last a final hill to emerge upon the... more...

CHAPTER I THE ANGLO-SAXON HERBALS “Everything possible to be believ’d is an image of truth.”—William Blake. There is a certain pathos attached to the fragments from any great wreck, and in studying the few Saxon manuscripts, treating of herbs, which have survived to our day, we find their primary fascination not so much in their beauty and interest as in the visions they conjure up of those... more...

MOZART The composer whom we call WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART was called Wolferl when he was a little boy. He had a sister, MARIA ANNA, who was called NANNERL. Nannerl was five years older than her brother. She had lessons from her father on a kind of piano called a harpsichord. Here is a picture of one. MOZART'S HARPSICHORD When Wolferl was three years old he used to listen to Nannerl's playing.... more...

Few detailed studies of the mammal associations of the forests of the United States have been made. But if we are ever to know, for our different species of mammals, the natural environments under which their evolution and differentiation occurred, we must study and describe their habitats and habitat limitations before all the native areas in the country have been altered by the activities of mankind.... more...

There is a great deal of admirable literature concerning Miss Mitford, so much of it indeed, that the writer of this little notice feels as if she almost owed an apology to those who remember, for having ventured to write, on hearsay only, and without having ever known or ever seen the author of 'Our Village.' And yet, so vivid is the homely friendly presence, so clear the sound of that voice... more...