Classics Books

THE SERVANT IN THE HOUSE THE FIRST ACT As the curtain ascends, Rogers and Manson are discovered laying the table for breakfast, the lad being at the upper end of the table, facing the audience, Manson, with his back to the audience, being at the lower end. Rogers is an ordinary little cockney boy in buttons; Manson is dressed in his native Eastern costume. His face is not seen until the point indicated... more...

CHAPTER I "As well give up the Bible at once, as our belief in apparitions."—Wesley. The house cried out to me for help. In the after-knowledge I now possess of what was to happen there, that impression is not more clearly definite than it was at my first sight of the place. Let me at once set down that this is not the story of a haunted house. It is, or was, a beleaguered house; strangely... more...

ACT I Scene—The Thuilleries. Barrere.The tempest gathers—be it mine to seekA friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him.But where? and how? I fear the Tyrant'ssoul—Sudden in action, fertile in resource,And rising awful 'mid impending ruins;In splendor gloomy, as the midnight meteor,That fearless thwarts the elemental war.When last in secret conference we met,He scowl'd upon me with... more...

I Run With the Fox Better to be proud and huntedThan to ride with the Pink Coats. Better than the smell of warm blood after a quick kill, Bitter and bright the scent of hidden fern. Though the heart fail in the panting sideAnd the eye be clouded with strainingafter the deep copseStill is there thrill in flight —Soft are oak leaves under the swift feet. Sweet are the distant notes of the hunter's... more...

I. My name is Louis Roubien. I am seventy years old. I was born in the village of Saint-Jory, several miles up the Garonne from Toulouse. For fourteen years I battled with the earth for my daily bread. At last, prosperity smiled on we, and last month I was still the richest farmer in the parish. Our house seemed blessed, happiness reigned there. The sun was our brother, and I cannot recall a bad crop.... more...

A Feather in his Cap. “Oh, I say, what a jolly shame!” “Get out; it’s all gammon. Likely.” “I believe it’s true. Dick Darrell’s a regular pet of Sir George Hemsworth.” “Yes; the old story—kissing goes by favour.” “I shall cut the service. It’s rank favouritism.” “I shall write home and tell my father to get the thing shown... more...

CHAPTER I MARY WALLINGFORD At the beginning of the Civil War there was a fine old residence on Meeting Street in Charleston, South Carolina, inhabited by a family almost as old as the State. Its inheritor and owner, Orville Burgoyne, was a widower. He had been much saddened in temperament since the death of the wife, and had withdrawn as far as possible from public affairs. His library and the past had... more...

CHAPTER I. "When do you start, Tom?" "At midnight." "Well, good-by; sock it to 'em; send us in some fat orders." "I'll do it, or die; good-by." And then I sat down to think it all over. Our traveling man was off on a wedding tour, and I had agreed to take his place for this one trip. As the hour drew near for me to start, my courage proportionately sank, until... more...

CHAPTER I THE WARDEN'S LODGINGS The Founders and the Benefactors of Oxford, Princes, wealthy priests, patriotic gentlemen, noble ladies with a taste for learning; any of these as they travelled along the high road, leaving behind them pastures, woods and river, and halted at the gates of the grey sacred city, had they been in melancholy mood, might have pictured to themselves all possible... more...

Whether Buddhism be viewed in its extent and diffusion, or in the complex nature of its doctrines, it claims the serious attention of every inquiring mind. In our own days it is, under different forms, the creed prevailing in Nepaul, Thibet, Mongolia, Corea, China, the Japanese Archipelago, Anam, Cambodia, Siam, the Shan States, Burmah, Arracan, and Ceylon. Its sway extends over nearly one-fourth of... more...