Classics Books

CHAPTER I. "PIONEERS, O PIONEERS" If you had stood on the borders of Askatoon, a prairie town, on the pathway to the Rockies one late August day not many years ago, you would have heard a fresh young human voice singing into the morning, as its possessor looked, from a coat she was brushing, out over the "field of the cloth of gold," which your eye has already been invited to see. With... more...

AT THE DEPOT Mr. Simeon Phinney emerged from the side door of his residence and paused a moment to light his pipe in the lee of the lilac bushes. Mr. Phinney was a man of various and sundry occupations, and his sign, nailed to the big silver-leaf in the front yard, enumerated a few of them. "Carpenter, Well Driver, Building Mover, Cranberry Bogs Seen to with Care and Dispatch, etc., etc.," so... more...

THE TWO TWILIGHTS THE THANKLESS MUSE The muses ring my bell and run away.I spy you, rogues, behind the evergreen:You, wild Thalia, romper in the hay;And you, Terpsichore, you long-legged quean.When I was young you used to come and stay,But, now that I grow older, 'tis well seenWhat tricks ye put upon me. Well-a-day!How many a summer evening have ye beenSitting about my door-step, fain to singAnd... more...

  pair of words I heartily detest are noble and redman, particularly when they occur together. Some of my egghead friends from the Hub tell me that I shouldn't, since they're merely an ancient colloquialism used to describe a race of aborigines on the American land mass. The American land mass? Where? Why—on Earth, of course—where would ancestors come from? Yes—I know it's not... more...

CHAPTER I. It was extremely tiresome! It was vexatious; it was altogether annoying! Most people under similar circumstances would have used stronger expressions, would have bemoaned themselves loudly, or at least inwardly, with all the pathos of self-pity. To be nearly at the end of one’s journey, almost within sight and sound of home fires and home welcomes, and then to be snowed up, walled,... more...

CHAPTER I READY FOR A RACE One by one the lights went out. One by one the shoppers left the toy department of the store. One by one the clerks rode down in the elevators. At last all was still and quiet and dark—that is, all dark except for a small light, so the night-watchman could see his way around. "Now we can have some fun!" cried a voice, and it seemed to come from a Calico Clown, lying... more...

A RASH IMPULSE “Get back, Jim. It’s over your head.” The ball had left the bat with a ringing crack that made it soar high into the air toward left field. Jim Dabney, who was playing left, made a hard run for it, but stumbled over a clump of grass, and the ball just touched the end of his fingers. “Wow!” he yelled, wringing his hand, “there’s another nail gone.” “Never mind your hand,... more...

A Peep at Tolcarne. “Ed—Ward!” “Yes, mum.” A stiff, high-shouldered footman turned round as he reached the breakfast-room door. “Are you sure Sir Hampton has been called?” “Yes, mum.” “And did Smith take up her ladyship’s hot water?” “Yes, mum.” “Are the young ladies coming down?” “They went out for a walk nearly an hour ago, mum.” “Dear me! and such a damp... more...

THE ROMANCE OF IRISH HISTORY By SIR ROGER CASEMENT, C.M.G. The history of Ireland remains to be written, for the purpose of Irishmen remains yet to be achieved. The struggle for national realization, begun so many centuries ago, is not ended; and if the long story offers a so frequent record of failure, it offers a continuous appeal to the highest motives and a constant exhibition of a most pathetic... more...

CHAPTER I THE LAMB'S WISH Out of his box the Jack popped his head. The funny, black fringe of whiskers around his face jiggled up and down. His queer, big eyes looked around the store. "Hurray!" cried the Jack in the Box. "We are alone at last and now we can have some fun! Hurray!" "Are you sure?" asked a Bold Tin Soldier, who stood at the head of a company of his men in a... more...