Some Short Christmas StoriesSome Short ChristmasStoriesby Charles Dickens1- Page 2-Some Short Christmas StoriesA CHRISTMAS TREEI have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of childrenassembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. The tree wasplanted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high above their...
The Memoirs of Cardinal de Retzby Cardinal de RetzHISTORIC COURT MEMOIRS.THE ENTIRE MEMOIRS OF JEAN FRANCOIS PAUL de GONDI, CARDINAL DE RETZWritten by HimselfBeing Historic Court Memoirs of the Great Events during the Minority ofLouis XIV. and the Administration of Cardinal Mazarin.ORIGINAL PREFACE.Our Author, John Francis Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz, Sovereign of Commercy, Prince of Euville, second Archbishop of Paris, Abbot of Saint Denis in France, was born at Montmirail, in Brie, in October, 1614.His father was Philippe Emanuel de Gondi, Comte, de Joigni, General of the Galleys of Fra
The Day of the Confederacy, A Chronicle of the Embattled Southby Nathaniel W. StephensonCONTENTSI. THE SECESSION MOVEMENTII. THE DAVIS GOVERNMENTIII. THE FALL OF KING COTTONIV. THE REACTION AGAINST RICHMONDV. THE CRITICAL YEARVI. LIFE IN THE CONFEDERACYVII. THE TURNING OF THE TIDEVIII. A GAME OF CHANCEIX. DESPERATE REMEDIES X. DISINTEGRATIONXI. AN ATTEMPTED REVOLUTIONXII. THE LAST WORDBIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTETHE DAY OF THE CONFEDERACYChapter I. The Secession MovementThe secession movement had three distinct stages. The first,...
Dreams & Dustby Don MarquisTOMY MOTHERVIRGINIA WHITMORE MARQUISCONTENTSPROEMDAYLIGHT HUMORSTHIS IS ANOTHER DAYAPRIL SONGTHE EARTH, IT IS ALSO A STARTHE NAMETHE BIRTHA MOOD OF PAVLOWATHE POOL"THEY HAD NO POET"NEW YORKA HYMNTHE SINGERWORDS ARE NOT GUNSWITH THE SUBMARINESNICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRODICKENSA POLITICIANTHE BAYONETTHE BUTCHERS AT PRAYERSHADOWSHAUNTEDA NIGHTMARETHE MOTHER...
Stories To Tell ChildrenStories To Tell Children1- Page 2-Stories To Tell ChildrenConcerning the fundamental points of method in telling a story, I havelittle to add to the principles which I have already stated as necessary, inmy opinion, in the book of which this is, in a way, the continuation. But inthe two years which have passed since that book was written, I have hadthe happiness of working on stories and the telling of them, among...
ARIZONA NIGHTSARIZONA NIGHTSby STEWART EDWARD WHITE1- Page 2-ARIZONA NIGHTSCHAPTER ONE THE OLEVIRGINIAThe ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and the turquoiseblue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the dry countries areinfrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm.We had ridden since sun-up over broad mesas, down and out of deep...
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
By P. G. Wodehouse 1 In a day in June, at the hour when London moves abroad in quest of lunch, a young man stood at the entrance of the Bandolero Restaurant looking earnestly up Shaftesbury Avenuea large young man in excellent condition, with a pleasant, good-humoured, brown, clean-cut face. He paid no attention to the stream of humanity that flowed past him. His mouth was set and his eyes wore a serious, almost a wistful expression. He was frowning slightly. One would have said that here was a man with a secret sorrow. William FitzWilliam Delamere Chalmers, Lord Dawlish, had no secret sor
Afternoon of the fourth Monday in January 1977; the Chateau Bronnitsy off the Serpukhov road not far out of Moscow; 2.40 P.M. middle-European time, and a telephone in the temporary Investigation Control Room ringing... ringing... ringing. The Chateau Bronnitsy stood central on open, peaty ground in the middle of a densely wooded tract now white under drifted snow. A house or mansion of debased heritage and mixed architectural antecedents, several recent wings were of modern brick on old stone foundations, while others were cheap breeze blocks camouflaged in grey and green paint. A once-court
Our specific charge in this unofficial mission has been to search the uninhabited worlds to find another source of the precious spice melange, upon which so much of the Imperium depends. We have documented the journeys of many of our Navigators and Steersmen, searching hundreds of planets. To date, however, we have had no success. The only source of melange in the Known Universe remains the desert world of Arrakis. The Guild, CHOAM, and all other dependents must continue in thrall of the Harkonnen monopoly. However, the value of exploring outlying territories for new planetary systems and ne
The Old Masters: how well they understoodIts human position; how it takes placeWhile someone else is eating or opening a window orMt walking dully along ...W. H. AUDEN, "Musee des Beaux Arts"Old Blue died and he died so hard He shook the ground in my back yard. I dug his grave with a silver spade And I lowered him down with a golden chain. Every link you know I did call his name, I called, "Here, Blue, you good dog, you.FOLK SONG"Nope, nothing wrong here.THE SHARP CEREAL PROFESSORONCE UPON A TIME, not so long ago, a monster came to the small town of Castle Rock, Maine. He killed. a waitress n
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
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.* [Note-This Preliminary Chapter originally formed the first of the Novel, but* has now been printed in italics on account of its introductory character.]So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glidesThe Derby dilly, carrying six insides.Frere.The times have changed in nothing more (we follow as we werewont the manuscript of Peter Pattieson) than in the rapid conveyanceof intelligence and communication betwixt one part of Scotlandand another. It is not above twenty or thirty years, according tothe evidence of many credible witnesses now alive, since a little...
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 MOUNTAINSTHE MOUNTAINSBY STEWART EDWARD WHITE1- Page 2-THE MOUNTAINSPREFACEThe author has followed a true sequence of events practically in allparticulars save in respect to the character of the Tenderfoot. He is in onesense fictitious; in another sense real. He is real in that he is theapotheosis of many tenderfeet, and that everything he does in this...
A TALE OF THE TONTLAWALDLong, long ago there stood in the midst of a country covered withlakes a vast stretch of moorland called the Tontlawald, on whichno man ever dared set foot. From time to time a few bold spiritshad been drawn by curiosity to its borders, and on their returnhad reported that they had caught a glimpse of a ruined house ina grove of thick trees, and round about it were a crowd of beingsresembling men, swarming over the grass like bees. The men wereas dirty and ragged as gipsies, and there were besides a quantityof old women and half-naked children....