Literary Boston As I Knew Itby William Dean HowellsAmong my fellow-passengers on the train from New York to Boston, when Iwent to begin my work there in 1866, as the assistant editor of theAtlantic Monthly, was the late Samuel Bowles, of the SpringfieldRepublican, who created in a subordinate city a journal of metropolitanimportance. I had met him in Venice several years earlier, when he wassuffering from the cruel insomnia which had followed his overwork on thatnewspaper, and when he told me that he was sleeping scarcely more thanone hour out of the twenty-four. His worn face attested the misery whichthis must have been, and which lasted in some measure while he lived,...
Part 3When the buriers came up to him they soon found he was neither aperson infected and desperate, as I have observed above, or a persondistempered -in mind, but one oppressed with a dreadful weight ofgrief indeed, having his wife and several of his children all in the cartthat was just come in with him, and he followed in an agony andexcess of sorrow. He mourned heartily, as it was easy to see, but witha kind of masculine grief that could not give itself vent by tears; andcalmly defying the buriers to let him alone, said he would only see thebodies thrown in and go away, so they left importuning him. But nosooner was the cart turned round and the bodies shot into the pit...
TARTARIN OF TARASCONbyALPHONSE DAUDETEPISODE THE FIRSTIN TARASCONI. The Garden Round the Giant Trees.My first visit to Tartarin of Tarascon has remained a never-to-be- forgotten date in my life; although quite ten or a dozen years ago, I remember it better than yesterday.At that time the intrepid Tartarin lived in the third house on the left as the town begins, on the Avignon road. A pretty little villa in the local style, with a front garden and a balcony behind, the walls glaringly white and the venetians very green; and always about the doorsteps a brood of little Savoyard shoeblackguards playing hopscotch, or dozing in the broad sunshine with their heads pillowed on their boxes....
The Writings of Abraham Lincolnby Abraham LincolnVOLUME II.1843-1858FIRST CHILDTO JOSHUA F. SPEED.SPRINGFIELD, May 18, 1843.DEAR SPEED:Yours of the 9th instant is duly received, which Ido not meet as a "bore," but as a most welcome visitor. I willanswer the business part of it first.In relation to our Congress matter here, you were right insupposing I would support the nominee. Neither Baker nor I,however, is the man, but Hardin, so far as I can judge frompresent appearances. We shall have no split or trouble about thematter; all will be harmony. In relation to the "coming events"...
The Ball at Sceauxby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Clara BellTo Henri de Balzac, his brother Honore.The Comte de Fontaine, head of one of the oldest families in Poitou,had served the Bourbon cause with intelligence and bravery during thewar in La Vendee against the Republic. After having escaped all thedangers which threatened the royalist leaders during this stormyperiod of modern history, he was wont to say in jest, "I am one of themen who gave themselves to be killed on the steps of the throne." Andthe pleasantry had some truth in it, as spoken by a man left for deadat the bloody battle of Les Quatre Chemins. Though ruined by...
THE CHILD WHO CAME FROM AN EGGOnce upon a time there lived a queen whose heart was sore becauseshe had no children. She was sad enough when her husband was athome with her, but when he was away she would see nobody, but satand wept all day long.Now it happened that a war broke out with the king of aneighbouring country, and the queen was left in the palace alone.She was so unhappy that she felt as if the walls would stifleher, so she wandered out into the garden, and threw herself downon a grassy bank, under the shade of a lime tree. She had beenthere for some time, when a rustle among the leaves caused her tolook up, and she saw an old woman limping on her crutches towards...
TOADS AND DIAMONDSTHERE was once upon a time a widow who had twodaughters. The eldest was so much like her in the faceand humor that whoever looked upon the daughter sawthe mother. They were both so disagreeable and so proudthat there was no living with them.The youngest, who was the very picture of her fatherfor courtesy and sweetness of temper, was withal one ofthe most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturallylove their own likeness, this mother even doted on hereldest daughter and at the same time had a horribleaversion for the youngestshe made her eat in the kitchenand work continually.Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a...
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PRIVATE LIFE OF NAPOLEON, V4BY CONSTANTPREMIER VALET DE CHAMBRETRANSLATED BY WALTER CLARKCONTENTS:CHAPTER XXIII. to CHAPTER XXXI.CHAPTER XXIII.It was the 2d of January, 1805, exactly a month after the coronation,that I formed with the eldest daughter of M. Charvet a union which hasbeen, and will I trust ever be, the greatest happiness of my life. Ipromised the reader to say very little of myself; and, in fact, how couldhe be interested in any details of my own private life which did notthrow additional light upon the character of the great man about whom Ihave undertaken to write? Nevertheless, I will ask permission to return...
The Lesser Bourgeoisieby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Katharine Prescott WormeleyDEDICATIONTo Constance-Victoire.Here, madame, is one of those books which come into the mind,whence no one knows, giving pleasure to the author before he canforesee what reception the public, our great present judge, willaccord to it. Feeling almost certain of your sympathy in mypleasure, I dedicate the book to you. Ought it not to belong toyou as the tithe formerly belonged to the Church in memory of God,who makes all things bud and fruit in the fields and in theintellect?A few lumps of clay, left by Moliere at the feet of his colossalstatue of Tartuffe, have here been kneaded by a hand more daring...
On The Firing Lineby Anna Chapin Ray and Hamilton Brock FullerCHAPTER ONESix feet one in his stockings, broad-shouldered and without an ounce of extra flesh, Harvard Weldon suddenly halted before one of a line of deck chairs."I usually get what I want, Miss Dent," he observed suggestively."You are more fortunate than most people." Her answering tone was dry.Most men would have been baffled by her apparent indifference. Not so was Weldon. Secure in the possession of a good tailor and an equally good digestion, he was willing to await the leisurely course of events."My doctor always advises mild exercise after lunch," he continued."You are in the care of a physician?" she queried, with a whim
THE SLEEPING-CARTHE SLEEPING-CAR1- Page 2-THE SLEEPING-CARI.SCENE: One side of a sleeping-car on the Boston and Albany Road.The curtains are drawn before most of the berths; from the hooks and rodshang hats, bonnets, bags, bandboxes, umbrellas, and other travelling gear;on the floor are boots of both sexes, set out for THE PORTER to black.THE PORTER is making up the beds in the upper and lower berthsadjoining the seats on which a young mother, slender and pretty, with a...
Louis Lambertby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Clara Bell and James WaringDEDICATION"Et nunc et semper dilectoe dicatum."LOUIS LAMBERTLouis Lambert was born at Montoire, a little town in the Vendomois,where his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intendedthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for studymodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wifeadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him inanything.At the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and NewTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealedhis fate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical...