Library Of Alexandria imprint: 887 books

I wonder what he meant by it, said Sylvia, turning again in her chair, so that the summer light, softened and tinted by the drawn blinds, might fall upon the etching she held. "My dear," answered Colonel Wimpole, stretching out his still graceful legs, leaning back in his chair, and slowly joining his...

TO THE SAD-EYED MOTHERS, WHO, LIKE CICELY, ARE LOOKING ACROSS THE CRADLE OF THEIR

Concerns a Proposal of Marriage. “Then you really don’t intend to marry me, Wilfrid?” “The honour of being your husband, Tibbie, I must respectfully decline,” I said. “But I’d make you a very quiet, sociable wife, you know. I can ride to hounds, cook, sew clothes for old people, and drive a motor. What higher qualifications do you want?” “Well—love, for instance

Quand on veut dessecher un marais, on ne fait pas voter les grenouilles.—Mme. EMILE. DE GIRADIN 'Richard? That's right! Here's a tea-cup waiting for you,' as the almost thirty-year-old Incumbent of Cocksmoor, still looking like a young deacon, entered the room with his quiet step, and silent greeting...

LOST: A FOREIGN PRINCE! "Two Black Bears!" "Two Wolves!" "Three Eagles!" "Five Moose

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT "Dick Comstock, you've been fighting! What will Mother and Father say when they see your black eye?" and Ursula Comstock looked with mingled pity and consternation at her brother, who, at the moment, cautiously entered the cheery living-room. "And to-day of all days in the year...

A swift, gray November wind had taken every chimney of the house for an organ-pipe, and was roaring in them all at once, quelling the more distant and varied noises of the woods, which moaned and surged like a sea. Helen Lingard had not been out all day. The morning, indeed, had been fine, but she had...

It was The forenoon of a hazy, breathless day, and Dan Phillips was trouting up one of The back creeks of The Carleton pond. It was somewhat cooler up The creek than out on The main body of water, for The tall birches and willows, crowding down to The brim, threw cool, green shadows across it and shut...

It was noontide. The sun was very hot. An old gentlewoman sat spinning in a little arbour at the door of her cottage. She was blind; and her grandaughter was reading the Bible to her. The old lady had just left her work, to attend to the story of Ruth. "Orpah kissed her mother-in-law; but Ruth clave...

Ten years and more have passed since Leighton died, yet it is still difficult to get sufficiently far away, to take in the whole of his life and being in their just proportion to the world in which he lived. When we are in Rome, hemmed in by narrow streets, St. Peter's is invisible; once across that...

The Humorous Story an American Development.−−Its Difference from Comic and Witty Stories. I do not claim that I can tell a story as it ought to be told. I only claim to know how a story ought to be told, for I have been almost daily in the company of the most expert story−tellers for many years....

At sunset Sidney hurried to her room to take off The soiled and faded cotton dress she had worn while milking. She had milked eight cows and pumped water for The milk-cans afterward in The fag-end of a hot summer day. She did that every night, but tonight she had hurried more than usual because she wanted...

THE SUICIDE'S CHAIR "Yes! I'm not mistaken at all! It's the same woman!" whispered the tall, good-looking young Englishman in a well-cut navy suit as he stood with his friend, a man some ten years older than himself, at one of the roulette tables at Monte Carlo, the first on the right on entering the...

IN WHICH CERTAIN SUSPICIONS ARE EXCITED A grey, sunless morning on the Firth of Tay. Across a wide, sandy waste stretching away to the misty sea at Budden, four men were walking. Two wore uniform—one an alert, grey-haired general, sharp and brusque in manner, with many war ribbons across his tunic;...