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A Tramp Abroad, Illustrated, V5

By: Mark Twain

Excerpt: He kept his word. We heard his horn and instantly got up. It was dark and cold and wretched. As I fumbled around for the matches, knocking things down with my quaking hands, I wished the sun would rise in the middle of the day, when it was warm and bright and cheerful, and one wasn?t sleepy. We proceeded to dress by the gloom of a couple sickly candles, but we could hardly button anything, our hands shook so. I thought of how many happy people there were in Euro...

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The Drummer Ghost

By: John William Deforest

Excerpt: John William DeForest A bit of village, we can hardly call it a street; at best, the mere fag?end of a street; six houses and a church spire in sight, one of the houses, brick. This is by no means the whole of Johnsonville, for the greater number of its dwellings lie in a neighboring hollow, clustered industriously beside the mill?dam over the Wampoosue, or loafing, as it were, at the two ends of the wooden bridge, or straggling, like picnickers, down the course...

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The Woman Who Didn'T

By: Victoria Cross

BUT why not pay them? We may just as well now as when we reach the ship.' The words came in a clear, cultivated woman's voice through the foggy duskiness of an Egyptian night, from the farther end of the boat, which swayed slightly from side to side on the smoothly heaving water. It was an Aden boat loaded with passengers impatient to return to their ship. At least presumably they were impatient, but it was simply their refusal to pay the clamouring African boatmen their...

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The Ear in the Wall

By: Arthur Benjamin Reeve

Here's this murder of Fletcher, the retired banker and trustee of the University, he explained. Not a clue—except a warning letter signed with this mysterious clutching fist. Last week it was the robbery of the Haxworth jewels and the killing of old Haxworth. Again that curious sign of the hand. Then there was the dastardly attempt on Sherburne, the steel magnate. Not a trace of the assailant except this same clutching fist. So it has gone, Jameson—the most alarming and ...

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After a Shadow and Other Stories

By: T.S. Arthur

Excerpt: I. AFTER A SHADOW. ?ARTY! Arty!? called Mrs. Mayflower, from the window, one bright June morning. ?Arty, darling! What is the child after? Just look at him, Mr. Mayflower!?

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Don Quixote, Iiv31, Illustrated

By: Miguel De Cervantes

Excerpt: It is stated, they say, in the true original of this history, that when Cide Hamete came to write this chapter, his interpreter did not translate it as he wrote it that is, as a kind of complaint the Moor made against himself for having taken in hand a story so dry and of so little variety as this of Don Quixote, for he found himself forced to speak perpetually of him and Sancho, without venturing to indulge in digressions and episodes more serious and more inte...

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Saunderson and the Dynamite

By: Louis Becke

Saunderson was one of those men who firmly believed that he knew everything, and exasperated people by telling them how to do things; and Denison, the super-cargo of the Palestine, hated him most fervently for the continual trouble he was giving to everyone, and also because he had brought a harmonium on board, and played dismal tunes on it every night and all day on Sundays. But, as Saunderson was one of the partners in the firm who owned the Palestine, Denison, and Pac...

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The Black Monk

By: Anton Chekhov

ANDREY VASSILITCH KOVRIN, who held a master's degree at the University, had exhausted himself, and had upset his nerves. He did not send for a doctor, but casually, over a bottle of wine, he spoke to a friend who was a doctor, and the latter advised him to spend the spring and summer in the country. Very opportunely a long letter came from Tanya Pesotsky, who asked him to come and stay with them at Borissovka. And he made up his mind that he really must go.

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The World's Greatest Books, Volume Iii

By: Arthur Mee

Excerpt: ALPHONSE DAUDET. Tartarin of Tarascon. Alphonse Daudet, the celebrated French novelist, was born at Nimes on May 13, 1840, and as a youth of seventeen went to Paris, where he began as a poet at eighteen, and at twenty?two made his first efforts in the drama. He soon found his feet as a contributor to the leading journals of the day and a successful writer for the stage. He was thirty?two when he wrote ?Tartarin of Tarascon,? than which no better comic tale has b...

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Double Chocolate

By: Roswell Brown

And the double chocolate soda goes where? the blonde waitress demanded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with a swinging movement of the hips. She balanced a trayful of soda and shortcake expertly, her china blue eyes staring off into the distance. Grace Culver had been making a snake out of the paper wrapper from her soda straw. She looked up quickly, with a gleam in her eyes as they fixed on the double chocolate. But she answered the question another way....

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Stories by English Authors : England

By: Joshua Hutchinson

Excerpt: THE BOX TUNNEL BY CHARLES READE. The 10:15 train glided from Paddington May 7, 1847. In the left compartment of a certain first?class carriage were four passengers; of these two were worth description. The lady had a smooth, white, delicate brow, strongly marked eyebrows, long lashes, eyes that seemed to change colour, and a good?sized, delicious mouth, with teeth as white as milk. A man could not see her nose for her eyes and mouth; her own sex could, and would...

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Their Wedding Journey

By: William Dean Howells

Excerpt: I. THE OUTSET They first met in Boston, but the match was made in Europe, where they afterwards saw each other; whither, indeed, he followed her; and there the match was also broken off. Why it was broken off, and why it was renewed after a lapse of years, is part of quite a long love?story, which I do not think myself qualified to rehearse, distrusting my fitness for a sustained or involved narration; though I am persuaded that a skillful romancer could turn th...

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Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush

By: William Makepeace Thackeray

Excerpt: MISS SHUM?S HUSBAND. Chapter 1. I was born in the year one, of the present or Christian hera, and am, in consquints, seven?and?thirty years old. My mamma called me Charles James Harrington Fitzroy Yellowplush, in compliment to several noble families, and to a sellybrated coachmin whom she knew, who wore a yellow livry, and drove the Lord Mayor of London. Why she gev me this genlmn?s name is a diffiklty, or rayther the name of a part of his dress; however, it?s s...

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Buried Evidence

By: Maxwell Grant

CHAPTER I. WORD FROM THE PAST: SUNSET rays shone through an office window high above Manhattan's streets. There, two men were seated at a flat-topped desk, engaged in earnest discussion. Many New Yorkers would have recognized both those men. Their names - like their pictures—had appeared in the news at different intervals. The man behind the desk was Curtiss Haslock, an attorney who had played a prominent part in political cleanups. Haslock was elderly. His thin hair was...

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Colomba

By: Prosper Merimee

Excerpt: Chapter One. ?Pe far la to vendetta, Sta sigur?, vasta anche ella.? ? Vocero du Niolo. Early in the month of October, 181?, Colonel Sir Thomas Nevil, a distinguished Irish officer of the English army, alighted with his daughter at the Hotel Beauveau, Marseilles, on their return from a tour in Italy. The perpetual and universal admiration of enthusiastic travellers has produced a sort of reaction, and many tourists, in their desire to appear singular, now take th...

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Cornhuskers

By: Carl Sandburg

Excerpt: I was born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of its women, gave me a song and a slogan. Here the water went down, the icebergs slid with gravel, the gaps and the valleys hissed, and the black loam came, and the yellow sandy loam. Here between the sheds of the Rocky Mountains and the Appalachians, here now a morning star fixes a fire sign over the timber claims and cow pastures, the corn belt, the cotton belt, the cattle ra...

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Roemische Elegien

By: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Excerpt: 1. Saget, Steine, mir an, o sprecht, ihr hohen Palaeste! Strassen, redet ein Wort! Genius, regst du dich nicht? Ja, es ist alles beseelt in deinen heiligen Mauern, Ewige Roma; nur mir schweiget noch alles so still. O wer fluestert mir zu, an welchem Fenster erblick ich Einst das holde Geschoepf, das mich versengend erquickt? Ahn ich die Wege noch nicht, durch die ich immer und immer Zu ihr und von ihr zu gehn, opfre die koestliche Zeit? Noch betracht ich Kirch u...

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Letui de Nacre

By: Anatole France

Excerpt: LE PROCURATEUR DE JUDEE L. AELIUS LAMIA, ne en Italie de parents illustres, n'avait pas encore quitte la robe pretexte, quand il alla etudier la philosophie aux ecoles d'Athenes. Il demeura ensuite a Rome et mena, dans sa maison des Esquilies, parmi de jeunes debauches, une vie voluptueuse. Mais, accuse d'entretenir des relations criminelles avec Lepida, femme de Sulpicius Quirinus, personnage consulaire, et reconnu coupable, il fut exile par Tibere Cesar. Il en...

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The Princess Casamassima

By: Henry James

Excerpt: BOOK FIRST. I. ?OH, YES, I dare say I can find the child, if you would like to see him,? Miss Pynsent said; she had a fluttering wish to assent to every suggestion made by her visitor, whom she regarded as a high and rather terrible personage. To look for the little boy, she came out of her small parlor, which she had been ashamed to exhibit in so untidy a state, with paper ?patterns? lying about on the furniture, and snippings of stuff scattered over the carpet...

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The Life of Cesare Borgia : Of France, Duke of Valentinois and Rom...

By: Rafael Sabatini

Preface: This is no Chronicle of Saints. Nor yet is it a History of Devils. It is a record of certain very human, strenuous men in a very human, strenuous age; a lustful, flamboyant age; an age red with blood and pale with passion at white?heat; an age of steel and velvet, of vivid colour, dazzling light and impenetrable shadow; an age of swift movement, pitiless violence and high endeavour, of sharp antitheses and amazing contrasts. To judge it from the standpoint of th...

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