Frank in the Woods
Category： Author：Harry Castlemon
OUR scene opens in the swamp that stretches away for miles north of Lawrence.
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Category： Author：Harry Castlemon
OUR scene opens in the swamp that stretches away for miles north of Lawrence.
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Category： Author：Lucy Maud Montgomery
MRS. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secret...
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Category： Author：Sydney De Loghe
Where the equator girdles the earth, the Indian Ocean and the amorous waters of the Pacific have their marriage bed. Afire with the passions of the tropics, excited by breezes from a thousand islands of palm, of spice, of coral, of pearl, jewelled for the ceremony with quick-lived phosphorous lights, the oceans move to each other, and...
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Category： Author：Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The "Foote Girls" were bustling along Margate Street with an air of united purpose that was unusual with them.
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Category： Author：novel
The words faded into a groan, and the tottering youth slumped to his knees, then pitched forward and sprawled out limply in the sandy trail.
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Category： Author：novel
The real trouble was that Jorgenson saw things as a business man does. But also, and contradictorily, he saw them as right and just, or as wrong and intolerable. As a business man, he should have kept his mind on business and never bothered about Ganti. As a believer in right and wrong, it would have been wiser for him to have stayed o...
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Category： Author：novel
The sound came from the exhaust pipe of the little steamer.
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Category： Author：novel
It was the happy fortune of Robert Louis Stevenson to have created beyond any man of his craft in our day a body of readers inspired with the feelings that we for the most part place at the service only of those for whom our affection is personal. There was no one who knew the man, one may safely assert, who was not also devoted ...
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Category： Author：novel
Petulantly Nancy Howard cast aside her letter and buried her chin in her cupped palms. “Oh, the woes of having a learned father!” she sighed. “Here is Joe’s letter, telling me how everything is starting up at home; and here am I, Nancy Howard, buried in this picturesque, polyglot wilderness, just because ...
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Category： Author：novel
Chip Merriwell, in running togs, had just taken a rail fence at a flying leap. As he dropped into the road beyond the fence, he halted suddenly and gave vent to a startled exclamation.
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