Showing: 6571-6580 results of 23918

CHAPTER I HERO WORSHIP "Oh, Mollie, please be careful!" The big car skidded perilously around a sharp curve and chug-chugged merrily down the road. "Goodness, I've been careful so long I'm afraid it will grow on me," Mollie Billette, sometimes known as "Billy," retorted, a determined set to her pretty chin. "Someway, I've got to get it out of my system."... more...

CHAPTER I. THE RABOURDIN HOUSEHOLD In Paris, where men of thought and study bear a certain likeness to one another, living as they do in a common centre, you must have met with several resembling Monsieur Rabourdin, whose acquaintance we are about to make at a moment when he is head of a bureau in one of our most important ministries. At this period he was forty years old, with gray hair of so pleasing... more...

AN HABITATION ENFORCED My friend, if cause doth wrest thee,Ere folly hath much oppressed thee,Far from acquaintance kest theeWhere country may digest thee...Thank God that so hath blessed thee,And sit down, Robin, and rest thee.—THOMAS TUSSER. It came without warning, at the very hour his hand was outstretched to crumple the Holz and Gunsberg Combine. The New York doctors called it overwork, and he... more...

CHAPTER I. BRETTON. My godmother lived in a handsome house in the clean and ancient town of Bretton. Her husband's family had been residents there for generations, and bore, indeed, the name of their birthplace—Bretton of Bretton: whether by coincidence, or because some remote ancestor had been a personage of sufficient importance to leave his name to his neighbourhood, I know not. When I was a... more...

THE MALTESE KITTY. O Hatty! see that pretty kitty! I wonder where she came from.” Fred Carleton walked softly toward the puss, his hand outstretched, calling, “Kitty, pretty kitty,” until he had her in his arms. His sister Hatty took her hands from the dish-water, wiped them on the roller, and came toward him. “Why Fred!” she exclaimed, “that’s Ned Perry’s kitty. Clara says it’s a... more...

CHAPTER I THE RECOVERERS OF REMBRANDT Imagine a man, a citizen of London, healthy, middle-aged, successful in business, whose interest in golf is as keen, according to his lights and limitations, as the absorption of Rembrandt in art. Suppose this citizen, having one day a loose half-hour of time to fill in the neighbourhood of South Kensington, remembers the articles he has skimmed in the papers about... more...

I IN WHICH THE DESTINY THAT PLAYS WITH MEN MOVES THE PIECES ON THE BOARD Dust lay thick along the road that led through the very heart of the native quarter of Mangadone; dust raised into a misty haze which hung in the air and actually introduced a light undernote of red into the effect. Dust, which covered the bare feet of the coolies, the velvet slippers of the Burmese, which encroached everywhere... more...

CHAPTER I.LORD DOLPHIN INTRODUCES HIMSELFNow who ever heard of a fish's sitting up and telling his own story! Oh, you needn't laugh, you young Folks, perhaps you will find that I can make out very well, considering. Of course I have been among "Folks," else I could never use your language or know anything about you and your ways. A message is not received direct from the depths of the... more...

HOW THIS BOOK WAS WRITTEN In my book, The Father of a Soldier, I have already stated the conditions under which this book of my son's was produced. He was wounded in the end of June, 1917, in the fierce struggle before Lens. He was at once removed to a base-hospital, and later on to a military hospital in London. There was grave danger of amputation of the right arm, but this was happily avoided.... more...

CHAPTER I. IN CAPTAIN BOOMSBY'S SALOON. "I don't think it's quite the thing, Alick," said my cousin, Owen Garningham, as we were walking through Bay Street after our return to Jacksonville from the interior of Florida. "What is not quite the thing, Owen?" I inquired, for he had given me no clue to what he was thinking about. "After I chartered your steamer for a year... more...