Historical Books

I must have been no more than fifteen or sixteen years old when I first chanced upon Winesburg, Ohio. Gripped by these stories and sketches of Sherwood Anderson's small-town "grotesques," I felt that he was opening for me new depths of experience, touching upon half-buried truths which nothing in my young life had prepared me for. A New York City boy who never saw the crops grow or spent... more...

SCENE I. THIBAUT D'ARC. His Three Daughters. Three young Shepherds,their Suitors. THIBAUT.Ay, my good neighbors! we at least to-dayAre Frenchmen still, free citizens and lordsOf the old soil which our forefathers tilled.Who knows whom we to-morrow must obey?For England her triumphal banner wavesFrom every wall: the blooming fields of FranceAre trampled down beneath her chargers' hoofs;Paris... more...

FAREWELL TO GORDON'S I cannot bear to recall my misery of mind after Mr. Swain's death. One hope had lightened all the years of my servitude. For, when I examined my soul, I knew that it was for Dorothy I had laboured. And every letter that came from Comyn telling me she was still free gave me new heart for my work. By some mystic communion—I know not what—I felt that she loved me yet,... more...

CHAPTER I OUTSIDE 'No room!—Full up!' He banged the door in my face. That was the final blow. To have tramped about all day looking for work; to have begged even for a job which would give me money enough to buy a little food; and to have tramped and to have begged in vain,—that was bad. But, sick at heart, depressed in mind and in body, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, to have been... more...

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Passing a summer, several years since, at Edgartown, on the island of Martha's Vineyard, I became acquainted with a certain carver of tombstones, who had travelled and voyaged thither from the interior of Massachusetts, in search of professional employment. The speculation had turned out so successful, that my friend expected to transmute slate and marble into silver and gold, to the amount of at... more...

CHAPTER I The Senator Michele Pignaver, being a childless widower of several years' standing and a personage of wealth and worth in Venice, made up his mind one day that he would marry his niece Ortensia, as soon as her education was completed. For he was a man of culture and of refined tastes, fond of music, much given to writing sonnets and to reading the works of the elegant Politian, as well... more...

Towards the end of November, during a thaw, at nine o'clock one morning, a train on the Warsaw and Petersburg railway was approaching the latter city at full speed. The morning was so damp and misty that it was only with great difficulty that the day succeeded in breaking; and it was impossible to distinguish anything more than a few yards away from the carriage windows. Some of the passengers by... more...

Of the Earl of Surrey's solitary Ramble in the Home Park—Ofthe Vision beheld by him in the Haunted Dell—And of hisMeeting with Morgan Fenwolf, the Keeper, beneath Herne'sOak. In the twentieth year of the reign of the right high and puissant King Henry the Eighth, namely, in 1529, on the 21st of April, and on one of the loveliest evenings that ever fell on the loveliest district in... more...

CHAPTER I rasputin meets the empress The Spanish author Yriarte wrote those very true words:"Y ahora digo yo; llene un volumen De disparates un Autor famoso, Y si no alabaren, que me emplumen." For those who do not read Spanish I would translate the passage as: "Now I say to you; let an author of renown fill a book with twaddle, and if it is not praised by the critics, you may tar and... more...