count of howhis wife had died, and how he had been able for manyyears to keep in touch with her. All sorts of detailswere given. I read the book with interest, andabsolute scepticism. It seemed to me an example of howa hard practical man might have a weak side to hisbrain, a sort of reaction, as it were, against thoseplain facts of life with which he had to deal. Wherewas this spirit of which he talked? Suppose a man hadan accident and cracked his skull; his whole characterwould change, and a
or anything -- it was just that these girls always smelled amazing.Afterwards, if he was looking back on that day and trying to choose a particular moment, he'd have to say that right then, as he stepped forwards, was probably when things started to unravel. It was about the last thing to happen that day that really made any sort of sense. Everything after that point was like a really unpleasant episode from someone else's life spliced into his, not to mention that most of it took place in
ay before it. The backbar was a shelf backed by a narrow mirror running well past the middle half, and no higher than necessary to give the bartender a view of the room when he turned around, which he did but seldom. Round card-tables, heavy and crude, were scattered about the room and a row of chairs ran the full length along the other side wall. Several loungers sat at the tables, one of them an eastern tough, judging from his clothes, his peaked cap pulled well down over his eyes. At the
did not know. Besides, it is assertedthat Syriac is the language spoken in the midnight meetings at whichuncanny people worship the devil. In medicine he justly preferred Galento Cardan; Cardan, although a learned man, being but an earthworm toGalen.To sum up, Ursus was not one of those persons who live in fear of thepolice. His van was long enough and wide enough to allow of his lyingdown in it on a box containing his not very sumptuous apparel. He owneda lantern, several wigs, and some
"The night can hear," answered Ka-nu obliquely. "There are worlds within worlds. But you may trust me and you may trust Brule, the Spear-slayer. Look!" He drew from his robes a bracelet of gold representing a winged dragon coiled thrice, with three horns of ruby on the head."Examine it closely. Brule will wear it on his arm when he comes to you tomorrow night so that you may know him. Trust Brule as you trust yourself, and do what he tells you to. And in proof of trust,
eman came, and sent a message to the station; and very soon the Superintendent was here. Then you came."There was a long pause, and I ventured to take her hand for an instant. Without a word more we opened the door, and joined the Superintendent in the hall. He hurried up to us, saying as he came: "I have been examining everything myself, and have sent off a message to Scotland Yard. You see, Mr. Ross, there seemed so much that was odd about the case that I thought we had better have
Barny O'Reirdon the Navigator by Samuel Lover Haddad-Ben-Ahab the Traveller by John Galt Bluebeard's Ghost by Wm. M. Thackeray The Picnic Party by Horace Smith Father Tom and the Pope by Samuel Ferguson Johnny Darbyshire by William Howitt The Gridiron by Samuel Lover The Box Tunnel by Charles Reade
r yourself a remarkably lucky girl?"The governess lifted her head from its stooping attitude, and staredwonderingly at her employer, shaking back a shower of curls. They werethe most wonderful curls in the world--soft and feathery, alwaysfloating away from her face, and making a pale halo round her head whenthe sunlight shone through them. "What do you mean, my dear Mrs. Dawson?" she asked, dipping hercamel's-hair brush into the wet aquamarine upon the palette, and poisingit
w seconds and then slowly arose, dusting the alkali from him."Th' wall-eyed piruts," he muttered, and then scratched his head for a way to "play hunk." As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a snicker from behind him. He, thinking it was one of his late tormentors, paid no attention to it. Then a cynical, biting laugh stung him. He wheeled, to see Shorty leaning against a tree, a sneering leer on his flushed face. Shorty's right hand was suspended above his holster,
count of howhis wife had died, and how he had been able for manyyears to keep in touch with her. All sorts of detailswere given. I read the book with interest, andabsolute scepticism. It seemed to me an example of howa hard practical man might have a weak side to hisbrain, a sort of reaction, as it were, against thoseplain facts of life with which he had to deal. Wherewas this spirit of which he talked? Suppose a man hadan accident and cracked his skull; his whole characterwould change, and a
or anything -- it was just that these girls always smelled amazing.Afterwards, if he was looking back on that day and trying to choose a particular moment, he'd have to say that right then, as he stepped forwards, was probably when things started to unravel. It was about the last thing to happen that day that really made any sort of sense. Everything after that point was like a really unpleasant episode from someone else's life spliced into his, not to mention that most of it took place in
ay before it. The backbar was a shelf backed by a narrow mirror running well past the middle half, and no higher than necessary to give the bartender a view of the room when he turned around, which he did but seldom. Round card-tables, heavy and crude, were scattered about the room and a row of chairs ran the full length along the other side wall. Several loungers sat at the tables, one of them an eastern tough, judging from his clothes, his peaked cap pulled well down over his eyes. At the
did not know. Besides, it is assertedthat Syriac is the language spoken in the midnight meetings at whichuncanny people worship the devil. In medicine he justly preferred Galento Cardan; Cardan, although a learned man, being but an earthworm toGalen.To sum up, Ursus was not one of those persons who live in fear of thepolice. His van was long enough and wide enough to allow of his lyingdown in it on a box containing his not very sumptuous apparel. He owneda lantern, several wigs, and some
"The night can hear," answered Ka-nu obliquely. "There are worlds within worlds. But you may trust me and you may trust Brule, the Spear-slayer. Look!" He drew from his robes a bracelet of gold representing a winged dragon coiled thrice, with three horns of ruby on the head."Examine it closely. Brule will wear it on his arm when he comes to you tomorrow night so that you may know him. Trust Brule as you trust yourself, and do what he tells you to. And in proof of trust,
eman came, and sent a message to the station; and very soon the Superintendent was here. Then you came."There was a long pause, and I ventured to take her hand for an instant. Without a word more we opened the door, and joined the Superintendent in the hall. He hurried up to us, saying as he came: "I have been examining everything myself, and have sent off a message to Scotland Yard. You see, Mr. Ross, there seemed so much that was odd about the case that I thought we had better have
Barny O'Reirdon the Navigator by Samuel Lover Haddad-Ben-Ahab the Traveller by John Galt Bluebeard's Ghost by Wm. M. Thackeray The Picnic Party by Horace Smith Father Tom and the Pope by Samuel Ferguson Johnny Darbyshire by William Howitt The Gridiron by Samuel Lover The Box Tunnel by Charles Reade
r yourself a remarkably lucky girl?"The governess lifted her head from its stooping attitude, and staredwonderingly at her employer, shaking back a shower of curls. They werethe most wonderful curls in the world--soft and feathery, alwaysfloating away from her face, and making a pale halo round her head whenthe sunlight shone through them. "What do you mean, my dear Mrs. Dawson?" she asked, dipping hercamel's-hair brush into the wet aquamarine upon the palette, and poisingit
w seconds and then slowly arose, dusting the alkali from him."Th' wall-eyed piruts," he muttered, and then scratched his head for a way to "play hunk." As he gazed sorrowfully at the saloon he heard a snicker from behind him. He, thinking it was one of his late tormentors, paid no attention to it. Then a cynical, biting laugh stung him. He wheeled, to see Shorty leaning against a tree, a sneering leer on his flushed face. Shorty's right hand was suspended above his holster,