THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLINTHEAUTOBIOGRAPHY OFBENJAMIN FRANKLINWITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES EDITEDBY CHARLES W ELIOT LLD P F COLLIER & SONCOMPANY, NEW YORK (1909)1- Page 2-THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLININTRODUCTORY NOTEBENJAMIN FRANKLIN was born in Milk Street, Boston, onJanuary 6, 1706. His father, Josiah Franklin, was a tallow chandler who...
The Well of the Saintsby J. M. SyngeA Comedy in Three ActsSCENESome lonely mountainous district in the east of Ireland one ormore centuries ago.THE WELL OF THE SAINTS was first produced in the Abbey Theatre inFebruary, 1905, by the Irish National Theatre Society, under thedirection of W. G. Fay, and with the following cast.Martin Doul W. G. FAYMary Doul EMMA VERNONTimmy GEORGE ROBERTSMolly Byrne SARA ALLGOODBride MAIRE NIC SHIUBHLAIGHMat Simon P. MAC SHIUBHLAIGHThe Saint F. J. FAY...
AmphitryonAmphitryonTranslated by A.R. Waller, M.A.1- Page 2-AmphitryonPREFACEAmphitryon was played for the first time in Paris, at the Theatre duPalais-Royal, January 13, 1668. It was successfully received, holding theboards until the 18th of March, when Easter intervened. After the re-opening of the theatre, it was played half a dozen times more the same...
LOST FACELOST FACEby Jack London1- Page 2-LOST FACELOST FACEIt was the end. Subienkow had travelled a long trail of bitterness andhorror, homing like a dove for the capitals of Europe, and here, fartheraway than ever, in Russian America, the trail ceased. He sat in the snow,arms tied behind him, waiting the torture. He stared curiously before him...
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
1 With a gentle sigh the service tube dropped a message capsule into the receiving cup. The attention bell chimed once and was silent. Jason dinAlt stared at the harmless capsule as though it were a ticking bomb. Something was going wrong. He felt a hard knot of tension form inside of him. This was no routine service memo or hotel munication, but a sealed personal message. Yet he knew no one on this planet, having arrived by spacer less than eight hours earlier. Since even his name was new-dating back to the last time he had changed ships- there could be no personal messages. Yet here one
THERE was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had beenwandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning;but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early)the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and arain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise was now out ofthe question.I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chillyafternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight,with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidingsof Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my.
Emile Zolaby William Dean HowellsIn these times of electrical movement, the sort of constructionin the moral world for which ages were once needed, takes placealmost simultaneously with the event to be adjusted in history,and as true a perspective forms itself as any in the past. A fewweeks after the death of a poet of such great epical imagination,such great ethical force, as Emile Zola, we may see him asclearly and judge him as fairly as posterity alone was formerlysupposed able to see and to judge the heroes that antedated it.The present is always holding in solution the elements of the..
1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTWO BROTHERSby Hans Christian AndersenON one of the Danish islands, where old Thingstones, the seatsof justice of our forefathers, still stand in the cornfields, and hugetrees rise in the forests of beech, there lies a little town whose lowhouses are covered with red tiles. In one of these houses strangethings were brewing over the glowing coals on the open hearth; therewas a boiling going on in glasses, and a mixing and distilling,while herbs were being cut up and pounded in mortars. An elderly man looked after it all....
BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIESBUTTERCUP GOLDAND OTHER STORIESEllen Robena Field1- Page 2-BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIESThe Little New YearOne cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams and sat up in bedand listened. He thought he heard a knock at his window; but though themoon was shining brightly, Jack Frost had been so busily at work thatMaurice could not see through the thickly painted panes. So he crept...
The Adventures of Pinocchioby C. Collodi[Pseudonym of Carlo Lorenzini]CHAPTER 1How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a childCenturies ago there lived"A king!" my little readers will say immediately.No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm....
IT WAS nothing out of the ordinary that Mrs. Barry Rackham had made the appointment with her finger pressed to her lips. That is by no means an unusual gesture for people who find themselves in a situation where the best thing they can think of is to make arrangements to see Nero Wolfe. With Mrs. Barry Rackham the shushing finger was only figurative, since she made the date speaking to me on the phone. It was in her voice, low and jerky, and also in the way she kept telling me how confidential it was, even after I solemnly assured her that we rarely notified the press when someone requeste
THE girl walked past the secretary who held the door open, and surveyed the law office with eyes that showed just a trace of panic. The secretary gently closed the door and the girl selected an old fashioned, high-backed, black leather chair. She sat down in it, crossed her legs, pulled her skirt down over her knees, and sat facing the door. After a moment, she pulled the skirt up for an inch or two, taking some pains to get just the effect she wanted. Then she leaned back so that her spun-gold hair showed to advantage against the shiny black leather of the big chair. She loo
380 BCGORGIASby Platotranslated by Benjamin JowettGORGIASPERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: CALLICLES; SOCRATES; CHAEREPHON; GORGIAS; POLUS Scene: The house of Callicles.Callicles. The wise man, as the proverb says, is late for a fray, but not for a feast. Socrates. And are we late for a feast? Cal. Yes, and a delightful feast; for Gorgias has just been exhibiting to us many fine things. Soc. It is not my fault, Callicles; our friend Chaerephon is to blame; for he would keep us loitering in the Agora. Chaerephon. Never mind, Socrates; the misfortune of which I have been the cause I will also
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...
EclipseTwilight Book 3Stephenie MeyerTo my husband, Pancho,for your patience, love, friendship, humor,and willingness to eat out.And also to my children, Gabe, Seth, and Eli,for letting me experience the kind of love that people freely die for.Fire and IceSome say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction ice...