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                                 IDA.... "Thou shall not lackThe flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose." Cymbeline.   The little old lady lived over the way, through a green gate that shut with a click, and up three white steps. Every morning at eight o'clock the church bell chimed for Morning Prayer—chim! chime! chim! chime!—and every morning at eight o'clock the little old lady came down the white...
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                                 Part 1—Chapter I. Like most other Children, who should be my Godfather is decided by Mammon—So precocious as to make some Noise in the World, and be hung a few days after I was born—Cut down in Time, and produce a Scene of Bloodshed—My early Propensities fully developed by the Choice of my Profession. Those who may be pleased to honour these pages with a perusal, will not be detained with a...
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                                 CHAPTER I. THE COTTAGE BESIDE "THE CAUSEWAY" In a little cleft, not deep enough to be a gorge, between two grassy hills, traversed by a clear stream, too small to be called a river, too wide to be a rivulet, stood, and, I believe, still stands, a little cottage, whose one bay-window elevates it above the condition of a laboring-man's, and shows in its spacious large-paned proportions...
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                by: 
                                Joseph Kennedy                                
            
        
                                 RURAL LIFE It is only within the past decade that rural life and the rural school have been recognized as genuine problems for the consideration of the American people. Not many years ago, a president of the United States, acting upon his own initiative, appointed a Rural School Commission to investigate country life and to suggest a solution for some of its problems. That Commission itself and its...
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                by: 
                                Henry Jenner                                
            
        
                                 PREFACE This book is principally intended for those persons of Cornish nationality who wish to acquire some knowledge of their ancient tongue, and to read, write, and perhaps even to speak it.  Its aim is to represent in an intelligible form the Cornish of the later period, and since it is addressed to the general Cornish public rather than to the skilled philologist, much has been left unsaid that...
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                                 THE TORRENTS OF SPRING   'Years of gladness,    Days of joy,  Like the torrents of spring    They hurried away.' —From an Old Ballad. … At two o'clock in the night he had gone back to his study. He had dismissed the servant after the candles were lighted, and throwing himself into a low chair by the hearth, he hid his face in both hands. Never had he felt such weariness...
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                                 CHAPTER I. THE OUTLAWS."Come listen to me, ye gallants so free,All ye who love mirth for to hear;And I will tell you of a bold outlawWho lived in Nottinghamshire." Old Ballad. Ikey Ford was the first to make the discovery, and he lost no time in carrying the news to the others. Great was their consternation! "Moving into the Brown house? Nonsense, Ikey, you are making it up!" Carl...
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                by: 
                                Charles Dickens                                
            
        
                                 Chapter 1 ON THE LOOK OUT In these times of ours, though concerning the exact year there is no need to be precise, a boat of dirty and disreputable appearance, with two figures in it, floated on the Thames, between Southwark bridge which is of iron, and London Bridge which is of stone, as an autumn evening was closing in. The figures in this boat were those of a strong man with ragged grizzled hair and...
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                by: 
                                Richard Archer                                
            
        
                                 Introduction. “A wet sheet and a flowing sea,    A breeze that follows fast,That fills the white and rustling sail,    And bends the gallant mast.And bends the gallant mast, my boys,    Our good ship sound and free,The hollow oak our palace is,    Our heritage the sea.” It is now some twenty years ago, that the goodly ship Washington, commanded by Mr Erskine, left the port of New...
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                by: 
                                Rudyard Kipling                                
            
        
                                 HOW FEAR CAME The stream is shrunk—the pool is dry,And we be comrades, thou and I;With fevered jowl and dusty flankEach jostling each along the bank;And by one drouthy fear made still,Forgoing thought of quest or kill.Now 'neath his dam the fawn may see,The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he,And the tall buck, unflinching, noteThe fangs that tore his father's throat.The pools are shrunk—the...
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