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The Kid Faces Death

By: Steve Fisher

Slug O'Donnel leaned back in his chair, took a toothpick out of his mouth and pointed it. Danny, he said, I promised you that time the Hindu kept you locked in his closet that I'd give you a break on another case sometime. Now that was a rash statement, made in a moment of -- of -- Of gratitude, Mike Ryan, his redfaced detective partner, came in dryly. Yes, Slug O'Donnel went on -- of gratitude. You must know, Danny, that tipping off kids like you on big crimes, no matt...

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General William Booth Enters into Heaven : And Other Poems

By: Vachel Lindsay

Every slum had sent its half-a-score The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.) Every banner that the wide world flies Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes. Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang, Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang: -- Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb? Hallelujah! It was queer to see...

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Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Seven Years Concealed

By: Harriet Jacobs

Such were the unusually fortunate circumstances of my early childhood. When I was six years old, my mother died; and then, for the first time, I learned, by the talk around me, that I was a slave. My mother's mistress was the daughter of my grandmother's mistress. She was the foster sister of my mother; they were both nourished at my grandmother's breast. In fact, my mother had been weaned at three months old, that the babe of the mistress might obtain sufficient food. T...

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Rosy

By: Mary Louisa Molesworth

Excerpt: Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all to no purpose, and this made Rosy still mo...

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The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Jun/Jul/Aug 1661

By: Mynors Bright

Excerpt: June 1st. Having taken our leaves of Sir W. Batten and my Lady, who are gone this morning to keep their Whitsuntide, Sir W. Pen and I and Mr. Gauden by water to Woolwich, and there went from ship to ship to give order for and take notice of their forwardness to go forth, and then to Deptford and did the like, having dined at Woolwich with Captain Poole at the tavern there. From Deptford we walked to Redriffe, calling at the half?way house, and there come into a ...

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Immortals Crowned by the French Academy : An Attic Philosopher, Entire

By: Emile Souvestre

PREFACE: No one succeeds in obtaining a prominent place in literature, or in surrounding himself with a faithful and steady circle of admirers drawn from the fickle masses of the public, unless he possesses originality, constant variety, and a distinct personality. It is quite possible to gain for a moment a few readers by imitating some original feature in another; but these soon vanish and the writer remains alone and forgotten. Others, again, without belonging to any ...

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Ecclesiastical History

By: Salminius Hermias (Sozomen) Sozomenus

Excerpt: THE popular saying is, that the former emperors were zealous about some useful matter or other; such as were fond of ornaments, cared for the royal purple, the crown, and the like; those who were studious of letters, composed some mythical work or treatise capable of fascinating its readers; those who were practiced in war, sought to send the weapon straight to the mark, to hit wild beasts, to hurl the spear, or to leap upon the horse. Every one who was devoted ...

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Mohun, Or, The Last Days of Lee

By: John Esten Cooke

Prologue: On the wall over the mantel?piece, here in my quiet study at Eagle?s?Nest, are two crossed swords. One is a battered old sabre worn at Gettysburg, and Appomattox; the other, a Federal officer?s dress sword captured in 1863. It was a mere fancy to place them there, as it was a whim to hang upon that nail yonder, the uniform coat with its stars and braid, which Stuart wore on his famous ride around McClellan in 1862. Under the swords hang portraits of Lee, Jackso...

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At the White Gate

By: Michael Fairless

A GREAT joy has come to me; one of those unexpected gifts which life loves to bestow after we have learnt to loose our grip of her. I am back in my own place very near my road—the white gate lies within my distant vision; near the lean grey Downs which keep watch and ward between the country and the sea; very near, nay, in the lap of Mother Earth, for as I write I am lying on a green carpet, powdered yellow and white with the sun's own flowers; overhead a great sycamore ...

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Problem of the Missing Necklace

By: Jacques Futrelle

Excerpt: Mr. Bradlee Cunnyngham Leighton was clever. His most ardent enemies admitted that. Scotland Yard, for instance, not only admitted it but insisted on it. It wasn?t any half hearted insistence, either, for in the words of Herbert Conway, one of the Yard?s chief operators, he was smooth??so smooth that he made ice feel like sandpaper.? Whether or not Mr. Leighton was aware of this delicate compliment does not appear. It was perfectly possible that he was, although ...

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Don Quebranta Huesos : A Tale of Southern Spain

By: E.H. Heron

Excerpt: THIS story is the story Red Detching, who says that Brunton, of the Indian Public Works Department could corroborate it; but as Brunton is road?making somewhere to the north of Gilgit, his version of the adventure is unattainable. All the incidents happened in Spain during a shooting trip undertaken by Brunton, and supervised by Detching in his character of ?passenger??under which denomination he has accompanied many and varied expeditions, and seen more things ...

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Rowdy of the Cross L

By: B.M. Bower

Excerpt: ?Rowdy? Vaughan?he had been christened Rowland by his mother, and rechristened Rowdy by his cowboy friends, who are prone to treat with much irreverence the names bestowed by mothers?was not happy. He stood in the stirrups and shook off the thick layer of snow which clung, damp and close?packed, to his coat. The dull yellow folds were full of it; his gray hat, pulled low over his purple ears, was heaped with it. He reached up a gloved hand and scraped away as mu...

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The White Bees and Other Poems

By: Henry Van Dyke

Excerpt: I. LEGEND Long ago Apollo called to Aristaeus, youngest of the shepherds, Saying, ?I will make you keeper of my bees.? Golden were the hives, and golden was the honey; golden, too, the music, Where the honey?makers hummed among the trees. Happy Aristaeus loitered in the garden, wandered in the orchard, Careless and contented, indolent and free; Lightly took his labour, lightly took his pleasure, till the fated moment When across his pathway came Eurydice. Then h...

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The Crystal Egg

By: Herbert George Wells

Excerpt: There was, until a year ago, a little and very grimy?looking shop near Seven Dials over which, in weather?worn yellow lettering, the name of ?C. Cave, Naturalist and Dealer in Antiquities,? was inscribed. The contents of its window were curiously variegated. They comprised some elephant tusks and an imperfect set of chessmen, beads and weapons, a box of eyes, two skulls of tigers and one human, several moth?eaten stuffed monkeys (one holding a lamp), an old?fash...

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Death in the Schoolroom (A Fact)

By: Walt Whitman

Excerpt: Ting?a?ling?ling?ling! went the little bell on the teacher?s desk of a village?school one morning, when the studies of the earlier part of the day were about half completed. It was well understood that this was a command for silence and attention; and when these had been obtain?d, the master spoke. He was a low thick?set man, and his name was Lugare. ?Boys,? said he, ?I have had a complaint enter?d, that last night some of you were stealing fruit from Mr. Nichol...

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Stories by Foreign Authors Polish, Greek, Belgian, Hungarian

By: Various

On a time it happened that the light-house keeper in Aspinwall, not far from Panama, disappeared without a trace. Since he disappeared during a storm, it was supposed that the ill-fated man went to the very edge of the small, rocky island on which the light-house stood, and was swept out by a wave. This supposition seemed the more likely as his boat was not found next day in its rocky niche. The place of light-house keeper had become vacant. It was necessary to fill this...

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The Haunted House

By: John C. Whittier

Excerpt: THE beautiful river, which retains its Indian name of Merrimack, winds through a country of almost romantic beauty. The last twenty miles of its course in particular, are unsurpassed in quiet and rich scenery, by any river in the United States. There are indeed, no bold and ragged cliffs, like the Highlands of the Hudson, to cast their grim shadows on the water no blue and lofty mountains, piercing into the thin atmosphere, and wrapping about their rocky proport...

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The Storm

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Excerpt: I. THE leaves were so still that even Bibi thought it was going to rain. Bobinot, who was accustomed to converse on terms of perfect equality with his little son, called the child?s attention to certain sombre clouds that were rolling with sinister intention from the west, accompanied by a sullen, threatening roar. They were at Friedheimer?s store and decided to remain there till the storm had passed. They sat within the door on two empty kegs. Bibi was four yea...

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The Return

By: Walter De La Mare

Excerpt: Chapter One. The churchyard in which Arthur Lawford found himself wandering that mild and golden September afternoon was old, green, and refreshingly still. The silence in which it lay seemed as keen and mellow as the light ? the pale, almost heatless, sunlight that filled the air. Here and there robins sang across the stones, elvishly shrill in the peace of harvest. The only other living creature there seemed to Lawford to be his own rather fair, not unsubstant...

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In Maytime

By: Anne Maynard Kidder

Timothy Trask was an eminently correct young man. His dress, his speech, his manners were all the most correct of their kind. If he discovered that anything was the proper thing to do, he always did it, even to the extent of playing very poor golf in an irreproachable pink coat. He was a great lover of the antique, which is in itself a very correct thing to be at the present time, and he possessed a collection of ancient armour, which was hung about on the walls of his w...

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