Literary Collections Books

CHAPTER I THAT MEN BY VARIOUS WAYS ARRIVE AT THE SAME END. The most usual way of appeasing the indignation of such as we have any way offended, when we see them in possession of the power of revenge, and find that we absolutely lie at their mercy, is by submission, to move them to commiseration and pity; and yet bravery, constancy, and resolution, however quite contrary means, have sometimes served to... more...

CHAPTER I CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP It was due to a mysterious dispensation of Providence, and a good deal to Leslie Graeme, that I found myself in the heart of the Selkirks for my Christmas Eve as the year 1882 was dying. It had been my plan to spend my Christmas far away in Toronto, with such Bohemian and boon companions as could be found in that cosmopolitan and kindly city. But Leslie Graeme... more...

CHAPTER I "I said you'd do something," said Daphne, leaning back easily in her long chair. I stopped swinging my legs and looked at her. "Did you, indeed," I said coldly. My sister nodded dreamily. "Then you lied, darling. In your white throat," I said pleasantly. "By the way, d'you know if the petrol's come?" "I don't even care," said Daphne.... more...

MARK TWAIN—A BIOGRAPHICAL SUMMARY SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS, for nearly half a century known and celebrated as "Mark Twain," was born in Florida, Missouri, on November 30, 1835. He was one of the foremost American philosophers of his day; he was the world's most famous humorist of any day. During the later years of his life he ranked not only as America's chief man of letters, but... more...

CHAPTER I THE GLADWYNE EXPEDITION Vernon Lisle was fishing with a determination that did not spring altogether from love of the sport. The water of the British Columbian river in which he stood knee-deep was icy cold; his rubber boots were badly ripped and leaky, and he was wet with the drizzle that drove down the lonely valley. It was difficult to reach the slack behind a boulder some distance... more...

A SPRING MORNING I Spring puts the old pipe to his lips and blows a note or two. At the sound, little thrills pass across the wintry meadows. The bushes are dotted with innumerable tiny sparks of green, that will soon set fire to the whole hedgerow; here and there they have gone so far as those little tufts which the children call 'bread and cheese.' A gentle change is coming over the grim... more...

INTRODUCTION. It is not improbable that some of those who read this book, may feel a wish to know in what manner I became possessed of the manuscript. Such a desire is too just and natural to be thwarted, and the tale shall be told as briefly as possible. During the summer of 1828, while travelling among those valleys of Switzerland which lie between the two great ranges of the Alps, and in which both... more...

ON THE ART OF MAKING UP ONE'S MIND "Now, which would you advise, dear? You see, with the red I shan't be able to wear my magenta hat." "Well then, why not have the grey?" "Yes—yes, I think the grey will be MORE useful." "It's a good material." "Yes, and it's a PRETTY grey. You know what I mean, dear; not a COMMON grey. Of course grey is always... more...

THE LEGEND OF MONTE DEL DIABLO. The cautious reader will detect a lack of authenticity in the following pages. I am not a cautious reader myself, yet I confess with some concern to the absence of much documentary evidence in support of the singular incident I am about to relate. Disjointed memoranda, the proceedings of ayuntamientos and early departmental juntas, with other records of a primitive and... more...

CHAPTER I THE CHILDREN KNOCK AT THE DOOR Early in the morning through the autumnal mist two children of six or seven years are wending their way, hand in hand, along the garden-paths outside the village. The girl, evidently the elder of the two, carries a slate, school-books, and writing materials under her arm; the boy has a similar equipment, which he carries in an open gray linen bag slung across... more...