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General Books
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Mayne Reid
A Chase. In mid-ocean—the Pacific. Two ships within sight of one another, less than a league apart. Both sailing before the wind, running dead down it with full canvas spread—not side by side, but one in the wake of the other. Is it a chase? To all appearance, yes; a probability strengthened by the relative size and character of the vessels. One is a barque, polacca-masted, her masts raking back...
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THE McGREGORS "Carl!" "Coming, Ma!" Mrs. McGregor waited a moment. "But you aren't coming," protested she fretfully. "You never seem to come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!" "Yes, Ma." "Yes, Ma! Yes, Ma!" the woman mimicked impatiently. "It's easy enough to shout Yes, Ma; but where are you—that's what I...
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by:
Harry Castlemon
CHAPTER I. A NOVEL BATTLE. "Pull him along, Carlos! Pull him along!" shouted a young gentleman about sixteen years of age, as he danced about on the back porch of his uncle's house, in a state of great excitement; "why don't you pull him along?" "He'll come, after awhile," replied the person addressed; "but he is very wild and obstinate." The boy on the...
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nce upon a time there lived in the city of Bagdad a young man called Jalaladdeen. It was not his native place; but, in his early days, his father had taken up his abode there. He was, however, little acquainted with the town, in which he had grown up a sturdy youth; for his father inhabited a small house in one of the suburbs, and lived a very retired and frugal life. They managed their household...
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Alice B. Emerson
CHAPTER I "This doesn't look like the street I came up through!" exclaimed Betty Gordon. "These funny streets, with their dear old-fashioned houses, all seem, so much alike! And if there are any names stuck up at the corners they must hide around behind the post when I come by like squirrels in the woods. "I declare, there is a queer little shop stuck right in there between two of...
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THE SALE OF LITTLE HARRY.Come read my book good boys and girlsThat live on freedom's ground,With pleasant homes, and parents dear,And blithesome playmates round;And you will learn a woeful tale,Which a good woman told,About the poor black negro race,How they are bought and sold. Within our own AmericaWhere these bad deeds are done,A father and a mother livedWho had a little son;As slaves, they...
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That sunny afternoon in May, How stealthily we crept away, We three—(Good things are done in threes: That is, good things in threes are done When you make two and I make one.)— To hatch our small conspiracies! Between the blossomy apple-trees (You recollect?) we sped, and then Safe in the green heart of the wood We breathed again. The purple flood the bluebells made Washed round about us where we...
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by:
Frank V. Webster
CHAPTER I THE MEETING ON THE ROAD "Get out of my way, Dick Morrison!" The boy who had been trudging along the narrow road looked up in surprise at hearing himself spoken to so suddenly, though he recognized the domineering voice even before catching sight of the speaker. "You already have half of the road, Ferd Graylock; to give you more I'd have to back down in the ditch, and I...
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Preface. This tale is founded chiefly on facts furnished by the Postmaster-General’s Annual Reports, and gathered, during personal intercourse and investigation, at the General Post-Office of London and its Branches. It is intended to illustrate—not by any means to exhaust—the subject of postal work, communication, and incident throughout the Kingdom. I have to render my grateful acknowledgments...
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Donnybrook Fair. Jack began his story thus: Of course you’ve heard of Donnybrook Fair, close to the city of Dublin. What a strange scene it was, to be sure, of uproar and wild confusion—of quarrelling and fighting from beginning to end—of broken heads, of black eyes, and bruised shins—of shouting, of shrieking and swearing—of blasphemy and drunkenness in all its forms of brutality. Ay, and as...
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