Historical Books

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CHAPTER I A PERILOUS MISSION Several of us had remained rather late that evening about the cheerful fire in front of my hut,—for the nights were still chilly, although it was May, and the dreadful winter passed,—discussing the improved condition of our troops, the rigid discipline of Baron de Steuben, and speculating on what would probably be attempted now that Sir Henry Clinton had succeeded to... more...

This is the story, among others, of Henry the waiter—or, as he now prefers to call himself, Henri—told to me in the long dining-room of the Riffel Alp Hotel, where I once stayed for a melancholy week “between seasons,” sharing the echoing emptiness of the place with two maiden ladies, who talked all day to one another in frightened whispers.  Henry’s construction I have discarded for its... more...

CHAPTER I I came to London on the fifteenth of June, having left it seven years before in company with my father, to go to Paris, two years before he died. It was drawing on to sunset as we rode up through the Southwark fields and, at the top of a little eminence in the ground saw for the first time plainly all the City displayed before us. We came along the Kent road, having caught sight again and... more...

BILLY'S REVERY 1 No use talking, it's perplexing, Everything don't look the same; Never had these curious feelin's Till those MacIntyres came. Quit my plowing long 'fore dinner, Didn't hitch my team again; Spent the day with these new neighbors, Getting 'quainted with the men. Talk about the prairie roses! Purtiest flow'rs in all the world, But they look like... more...

by: Mor Jokai
INTRODUCTION TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF MY WORKS This is not the first occasion upon which it has been my good fortune to win appreciation and approval for my works from the reading public of the United States. Up to the present, however, it has often been under difficulties; for many of my works which have been published in the English tongue were not translated from the original Hungarian text,... more...

THE SHADOW The winter's twilight, as thick as blown smoke, was drifting through the Capitol Square. Already the snow covered walks and the frozen fountains were in shadow; but beyond the irregular black boughs of the trees the sky was still suffused with the burning light of the sunset. Over the head of the great bronze Washington a single last gleam of sunshine shot suddenly before it vanished... more...

CHAPTER I.         The mountain's sidesAre flecked with gleams of light and spots of shade;Here, golden sunshine spreads in mellow rays, and there,Stretching across its hoary breast, deep shadows lurk.A stream, with many a turn, now lost to sight,And then, again revealed, winds through the vale,Shimmering in the early morning sun.A few white clouds float in the blue expanse,Their forms... more...

Chapter 1: A Shipwreck. A few miles to the south of Bray Head, on the crest of a hill falling sharply down to the sea, stood Castle Davenant, a conspicuous landmark to mariners skirting the coast on their way from Cork or Waterford to Dublin Bay. Castle Davenant it was called, although it had long since ceased to be defensible; but when it was built by Sir Godfrey Davenant, who came over with... more...

ORRAIN CHAPTER I THE CRY IN THE RUE DES LAVANDIERES My father, René, Vidame d'Orrain, was twice married. By his first wife he had one son, Simon, who subsequently succeeded to his title and estates, and was through his life my bitter enemy. By his second wife, whom he married somewhat late in life, he had two sons—the elder, Anne, known as the Chevalier de St. Martin from his mother's... more...

CHAPTER I. The sun of an August afternoon, 1782, was yet blazing upon the rude palisades and equally rude cabins of one of the principal stations in Lincoln county, when a long train of emigrants, issuing from the southern forest, wound its way over the clearings, and among the waving maize-fields that surrounded the settlement, and approached the chief gate of its enclosure. The party was numerous,... more...