THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMONDTHE GREATHOGGARTY DIAMONDBy Thackeray1- Page 2-THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMONDCHAPTER IGIVES AN ACCOUNT OF OUR VILLAGE AND THE FIRSTGLIMPSE OF THE DIAMONDWhen I came up to town for my second year, my aunt Hoggarty mademe a present of a diamond-pin; that is to say, it was not a diamond- pin...
The Red Badge of CourageThe Red Badge ofCourageAn Episode of the American Civil WarStephen Crane1- Page 2-The Red Badge of CourageCHAPTER I.THE cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogsrevealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscapechanged from brown to green, the army awak- ened, and began to tremble...
THE BOOK OF BLOOD THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN THE YATTERING AND JACK PIG BLOOD AND STARSHINE IN THE HILLS, THE CITIES THE BOOK OF BLOOD THE DEAD HAVE highways. They run, unerring lines of ghost-trains, of dream-carriages, across the wasteland behind our lives, bearing an endless traffic of departed souls. Their thrum and throb can be heard in the broken places of the world, through cracks made by acts of cruelty, violence and depravity. Their freight, the wandering dead, can be glimpsed when the heart is close to bursting, and sights that should be hidden e plainly into v
The Argonauticaby Apollonius RhodiusINTRODUCTIONMuch has been written about the chronology of Alexandrian literature and the famous Library, founded by Ptolemy Soter, but the dates of the chief writers are still matters of conjecture. The birth of Apollonius Rhodius is placed by scholars at various times between 296 and 260 B.C., while the year of his death is equally uncertain. In fact, we have very little information on the subject. There are two "lives" of Apollonius in the Scholia, both derived from an earlier one which is lost. From these we learn that he was of Alexandria by birth, (1
Memoir of Fleeming Jenkinby Robert Louis StevensonPREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.ON the death of Fleeming Jenkin, his family and friends determinedto publish a selection of his various papers; by way ofintroduction, the following pages were drawn up; and the whole,forming two considerable volumes, has been issued in England. Inthe States, it has not been thought advisable to reproduce thewhole; and the memoir appearing alone, shorn of that other matterwhich was at once its occasion and its justification, so large an...
THE MASTERY OF THE AIRTHE MASTERY OFTHE AIRby WILLIAM J. CLAXTONPREFACEThis book makes no pretence of going minutely into the technical andscientific sides of human flight: rather does it deal mainly with the realachievements of pioneers who have helped to make aviation what it is to-day.My chief object has been to arouse among my readers an intelligentinterest in the art of flight, and, profiting by friendly criticism of several of...
The Man Betweenby Amelia E. BarrPART FIRSTO LOVE WILL VENTURE IN!THE MAN BETWEENCHAPTER ITHE thing that I know least about is my beginning. For it is possible to introduce Ethel Rawdon in so many picturesque ways that the choice is embarrassing, and forces me to the conclusion that the actual circumstances, though commonplace, may be the most suitable. Certainly the events that shape our lives are seldom ushered in with pomp or ceremony; they steal upon us unannounced, and begin their work without giving any premonition of their importance.Consequently Ethel had no idea when she returned home
The Unknown Guestby Maurice MaeterlinckTranslated by Alexander Teixeira de MattosINTRODUCTION1My Essay on Death[1] led me to make a conscientious enquiry into the present position of the great mystery, an enquiry which I have endeavoured to render as complete as possible. I had hoped that a single volume would be able to contain the result of these investigations, which, I may say at once, will teach nothing to those who have been over the same ground and which have nothing to recommend them except their sincerity, their impartiality and a certain scrupulous accuracy. But, as I proceeded, I s
The eyes behind the wide black rubber goggles were cold as flint. In the howling speed-turmoil of a BSA M20 doing seventy, they were the only quiet things in the hurtling flesh and metal. Protected by the glass of the goggles, they stared fixedly ahead from just above the centre of the handlebars, and their dark unwavering focus was that of gun muzzles. Below the goggles, the wind had got into the face through the mouth and had wrenched the lips back into a square grin that showed big tombstone teeth and strips of whitish gum. On both sides of the grin the cheeks had been blown out by the w
Washington and his Comrades in ArmsA Chronicle of the War of Independenceby George WrongPREFATORY NOTEThe author is aware of a certain audacity in undertaking, himself a Briton, to appear in a company of American writers on American history and above all to write on the subject of Washington. If excuse is needed it is to be found in the special interest of the career of Washington to a citizen of the British Commonwealth of Nations at the present time and in the urgency with which the editor and publishers declared that such an interpretation would not be unwelcome to Americans and pressed up
December 29th: A lone figure, hunched down against the howling winter wind, moved step by frozen step through the Colorado wilderness. He was ill clad for such a winter trek, wearing soft thin boots and a clinging mauve with-sparkles tunic. His only defenses against the cold were an engineer cap on his platinum-blond thin hair and a scarf made of an old piece of furniture fabric wrapped several times around his thin pale neck. The wanderer was nearly frozen to death, his cracked and bleeding gloveless hands shoved into small pockets lined with tissue paper. His pale face, buried in the fabr
End of the Tetherby Joseph ConradIFor a long time after the course of the steamer Sofalahad been altered for the land, the low swampy coast hadretained its appearance of a mere smudge of darknessbeyond a belt of glitter. The sunrays seemed to fallviolently upon the calm seaseemed to shatter them-selves upon an adamantine surface into sparkling dust,into a dazzling vapor of light that blinded the eye andwearied the brain with its unsteady brightness....
Count Bunkerby J. Storer CloustenBEING A BALD YET VERACIOUS CHRONICLE CONTAINING SOME FURTHER PARTICULARS OF TWO GENTLEMEN WHOSE PREVIOUS CAREERS WERE TOUCHED UPON IN A TOME ENTITLED "THE LUNATIC AT LARGE"BY J. STORER CLOUSTONCOUNT BUNKERCHAPTER IIt is only with the politest affectation of interest, as a rule, that English Society learns the arrival in its midst of an ordinary Continental nobleman; but the announcement that the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg had been appointed attache to the German embassy at the Court of St. James was unquestionably received with a certain flutter of exciteme
Blood SportNews item from the Westover (Me.) weekly Enterprise, August 19, 1966:RAIN OF STONES REPORTEDIt was reliably reported by several persons that a rain of stones fell from a clear blue sky on Carlin Street in the town of Chamberlain on August 17th. The stones fell principally on the home of Mrs Margaret White, damaging the roof extensively and ruining two gutters and a downspout valued at approximately $25. Mrs White, a widow, lives with her three-year-old daughter, Carietta.Mrs White could not be reached for ment.Nobody was really surprised when it happened, not really, not at the sub
A Hero of Our Timeby M. Y. LermontovTRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN OF M. Y. LERMONTOVBy J. H. WISDOM & MARR MURRAYFOREWORDTHIS novel, known as one of the masterpieces ofRussian Literature, under the title "A Heroof our Time," and already translated into at leastnine European languages, is now for the first timeplaced before the general English Reader.The work is of exceptional interest to thestudent of English Literature, written as it wasunder the profound influence of Byron and beingitself a study of the Byronic type of character.The Translators have taken especial care to...
A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATEA WARD OF THEGOLDEN GATEBret Harte1- Page 2-A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATEPROLOGUE.In San Francisco the "rainy season" had been making itself a realityto the wondering Eastern immigrant. There were short days of driftingclouds and flying sunshine, and long succeeding nights of incessantdownpour, when the rain rattled on the thin shingles or drummed on the...