Historical Books

No. I'SANTA CLAUS' Nobody knew where Teddy Pegram came from or why the man ordained to settle down in Little Silver. He had no relations round about and couldn't, or wouldn't, tell his new neighbours what had brought him along. But he bided a bit with Mrs. Ford, the policeman's wife, as a lodger, and then, when he'd sized up the place and found it suited him, he took a... more...

The Verdurer’s Lodge. “Give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with that I will go buy me fortunes.” “Get you with him, you old dog.” As You Like It. The officials of the New Forest have ever since the days of the Conqueror enjoyed some of the pleasantest dwellings that southern England can boast. The home of the Birkenholt family was not one of the least delightful. It... more...

My birth, parentage, and education.—Make the acquaintance of Tom Rockets.—Sent to sea on board the Folkstone cutter, Anno 1764.—Numerous voyages.—My friends and I appear on the quarter-deck of the Torbay, 74.—Join the Falcon.—My only duel.—Adventures in the West Indies.—The Carib war.—Boat capsized.—Fate of her crew.—Appointed to the Wolf. On the north-east side of the street,... more...

THE BRIDAL MARCH There lived last century, in one of the high-lying inland valleys of Norway, a fiddler, who has become in some degree a legendary personage. Of the tunes and marches ascribed to him, some are said to have been inspired by the Trolls, one he heard from the devil himself, another he made to save his life, &c., &c. But the most famous of all is a Bridal March; and its story does... more...

MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's superiorities,"—if I had made this reply, I should have... more...

THE GREAT AMULET. PROLOGUE. I.   "The little more, and how much it is!    The little less, and what worlds away."        —Browning. No one in Zermatt dreamed that a wedding had been solemnised in the English church on that September afternoon of the early eighties. Tourists and townsfolk alike had been cheated of a legitimate thrill of interest and speculation. Nor would even... more...

CHAPTER I. “Kaspar!  Makan!” The well-known shrill voice startled Almayer from his dream of splendid future into the unpleasant realities of the present hour.  An unpleasant voice too.  He had heard it for many years, and with every year he liked it less.  No matter; there would be an end to all this soon. He shuffled uneasily, but took no further notice of the call.  Leaning with both his... more...

The sun was shining again after squalls, and the strait showed violet, green, red, and bronze lines, melting and intermingling each changing second. Metallic lustres shone as if some volcanic fountain on the lake-bed were spraying the surface. Jules McCarty stood at his gate, noting this change in the weather with one eye. He was a small, old man, having the appearance of a mummied boy. His cheek-bones... more...

MY DEAR AULDJO,—Permit me, as a memento of the pleasant hours we passed together, and the intimacy we formed by the winding shores and the rosy seas of the old Parthenope, to dedicate to you this romance. It was written in perhaps the happiest period of my literary life,—when success began to brighten upon my labours, and it seemed to me a fine thing to make a name. Reputation, like all... more...

Chapter I At the far end of Thorhaven towards the north was a little square house surrounded by a privet hedge. It had a green door under a sort of wooden canopy with two flat windows on either side, and seemed to stand there defying the rows and rows of terraces, avenues and meanish semi-detached villas which were creeping up to it. Behind lay the flat fields under a wide sky just as they had lain for... more...