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Sorrell and Son’ is a popular culture novel by Warwick Deeping. The story is set in England. It is about a man who devotes his life to making his son’s life a success. As the story proceeds, many themes are explored including life, love, career and familial and marital relationships.

The cases are few in which I have been content to reproduce what I have read of the works of acousticians. I have sought to make myself experimentally familiar with the ground occupied; trying, in all cases, to present the illustrations in the form and connection most suitable for educational purposes. -Preface

The indulgence of the public has been already extended to several works which I have submitted to its decision on the subject of Insanity; and the same favourable interpretation is now solicited for the present performance,—which attempts the more difficult investigation of Sound Mind.

No one of his generation lived so completely in and for literature as did Southey. “He is,” said Byron, “the only existing entire man of letters.” With him literature served the needs both of the material life and of the life of the intellect and imagination; it was his means of earning daily bread, and also the means of satisfying his highest ambitions and desires. This, which was true of Southey at five-and-twenty years of age, was equally true at forty, fifty, sixty.

Washington Irving (1783-1859) was an American author of the early nineteenth century. Best known for his short stories The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip van Winkle, he was also a prolific essayist, biographer and historian. This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. We believe this work is culturally important. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy this valuable book. Edited by Pierre Irving, and includes chronicles from the unpublished manuscripts of Washington Irving.

This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible.

If I die of a lingering illness, nay even by as much as a boil or a pimple, it will be your duty to proclaim to the world, even at the risk of making people angry with you, that I was not the man that I claimed to be. If you do that it will give my spirit peace. Note down this also that if some one were to end my life by putting a bullet through me as someone tried to do with a bomb the other day and I met his bullet without a groan, and breathed my last taking God’s name, then alone would I have made good my claim.
—Gandhi

His life was devoted to the good of his fellow-country- men, and he was especially eager in the cause of female education. In the preface to one of his works, written with that object in view, ho writes : — “ I was born in the year 1814.

Time was when the foremost aim and ambition of the English housewife was to gain a full knowledge of her own duties and of the duties of her servants. In those days, bread was home-baked, butter home-made, beer home-brewed, gowns home-sewn, to a far greater extent than now.

St. Leon’ is the tale of a French aristocrat, Count Reginald de St. Leon, who loses his wealth gambling and experiences guilt that drives him almost to madness. He accepts, from a dying stranger, the gift of the secret of the elixir of life and of the power of multiplying wealth, and consequently is forced to wander separated from humankind.

You are to know that stained glass means pieces of coloured glasses put together with strips of lead into the form of windows; not a picture painted on glass with coloured paints.

You know that a beer bottle is blackish, a hock bottle orange-brown, a soda-water bottle greenish-white—these are the colours of the whole substance of which they are respectively made.

A collection of classic short stories written by many eminent writers of early 20th century. This anthology is an attempt to build and rear a qualitative literary taste in children.

The Statesman, also known by its Latin title, Politicus, is a Socratic dialogue written by Plato. The text depicts a conversation among Socrates,

During the past few years several important contributions to this class of literature have issued from the metropolitan press. Three of these deserve special mention: (1) “The Atlantic Ferry; its Ships, Men, and Working,” by Arthur J. Maginnis, gold medallist and member of the Institution of Naval Architects, 1892; (2) “Our Ocean Railways, or the Rise, Progress, and Development of Ocean Steam Navigation,” by A. Fraser-Macdonald, 1893; (3) “The History of North Atlantic Steam Navigation, with Some Account of Early Ships and Shipowners,” by Henry Fry, ex-President of Dominion Board of Trade of Canada and Lloyd’s Agent at Quebec, 1896. Each of these writers, in his own way, has treated the subject so thoroughly and satisfactorily, the author feels as though the wind had been taken out of his sails somewhat, and it is not without hesitation that he has yielded to the advice of friends in whose judgment he has implicit confidence, and ventured to follow in the wake of such accomplished writers.

James Gordon Bennett: We left New York amid the huzzas of friends, who bade us a most affectionate adieu. The passengers are from every section of the Union. There are men of talent and high integrity among us. The emigrants in the Crescent City have never been excelled, always excepting the Pilgrim Fathers. On leaving the Pier, I noticed but two females, who waved their handkerchiefs most gracefully, and imparted their sweetest smiles. -an excerpt

April 4, 1857.—I have changed my sky without changing my mind. I resume these old notes in a new world. I hardly know of what use they are; but it’s easier to stick to the habit than to drop it. I have been at home now a week—at home, forsooth! And yet, after all, it is home. I am dejected, I am bored, I am blue. How can a man be more at home than that? Nevertheless, I am the citizen of a great country, and for that matter, of a great city. I walked to-day some ten miles or so along Broadway, and on the whole I don’t blush for my native land. We are a capable race and a good-looking withal; and I don’t see why we shouldn’t prosper as well as another. This, by the way, ought to be a very encouraging reflection.

For two years it had been notorious in the square that Sam’l Dickie was thinking of courting T’nowhead’s Bell, and that if Little Sanders Elshioner (which is the Thrums pronunciation of Alexander Alexander) went in for her, he might prove a formidable rival. Sam’l was a weaver in the tenements, and Sanders a coal-carter, whose trade-mark was a bell on his horse’s neck that told when coal was coming. Being something of a public man, Sanders had not, perhaps, so high a social position as Sam’l, but he had succeeded his father on the coal-cart, while the weaver had already tried several trades. It had always been against Sam’l, too, that once when the kirk was vacant he had advised the selection of the third minister who preached for it on the ground that it became expensive to pay a large number of candidates.

Do I know why Tom Donahue is called “Lucky Tom”? Yes, I do; and that is more than one in ten of those who call him so can say. I have knocked about a deal in my time, and seen some strange sights, but none stranger than the way in which Tom gained that sobriquet, and his fortune with it. For I was with him at the time. Tell it? Oh, certainly; but it is a longish story and a very strange one; so fill up your glass again, and light another cigar, while I try to reel it off. Yes, a very strange one; beats some fairy stories I have heard; but it’s true, sir, every word of it. There are men alive at Cape Colony now who’ll remember it and confirm what I say. Many a time has the tale been told round the fire in Boers’ cabins from Orange state to Griqualand; yes, and out in the bush and at the diamond-fields too.

It was about four in the afternoon when a young girl came into the salon of the little hotel at C—— in Switzerland, and drew her chair up to the fire.
“You are soaked through,” said an elderly lady, who was herself trying to get roasted. “You ought to lose no time in changing your clothes.”
“I have not anything to change,” said the young girl, laughing. “Oh, I shall soon be dry!”
“Have you lost all your luggage?” asked the lady, sympathetically.

Frequently I have to ask myself in the street for the name of the man I bowed to just now, and then, before I can answer, the wind of the first corner blows him from my memory. I have a theory, however, that those puzzling faces, which pass before I can see who cut the coat, all belong to club waiters.

The present book ‘Stories by English Authors: The Orient’ is a compandium of six best works of six of the most famous and critically acclaimed writers in the English language, including Rudyard Kipling, Miss Mitford, RK Douglas, Mary Beaumont, Morley Roberts and Netta Syrett.

“No doubt you have heard the age-old legend of the Mother Vein of Gold, which appears and vanishes, now and again, in this corner of the world. Superstition regarding this great original vein of gold is found wherever men seek the precious metal. The feverish Spaniards called this phantom lode the Madre d’Oro, or “Mother of Gold.” Now it is located in Mexico, now in India or Peru, California or Australia. Tradition says that Montezuma got his gold from this great vein, which lay in a secret valley whose where-abouts was jealously guarded by three priests of the war tribe, sole possessors of the knowledge. Any intruder who by chance or design looked down into this valley was smitten absolutely blind. Tradition among the successors of the Aztecs says that when Montezuma passed, the Madre d’Oro sank back again into the earth, and has been seen no more. Men still follow the phantom vein. Those who see it, even in their dreams, still are smitten blind.” -Preface

Now we are about to begin, and you must attend; and when we get to the end of the story, you will know more than you do now about a very wicked hobgoblin. He was one of the worst kind; in fact he was a real demon. One day he was in a high state of delight because he had invented a mirror with this peculiarity, that every good and pretty thing reflected in it shrank away to almost nothing. On the other hand, every bad and good-for-nothing thing stood out and looked its worst. The most beautiful landscapes reflected in it looked like boiled spinach, and the best people became hideous, or else they were upside down and had no bodies.

The present book ‘Stories from Tagore’ is a collection of celebrated classic Indian writer, poet, philosopher Rabindranath Tagore, translated in English to introduce children to best of the Indian literature. this volume was first produced and published in the year 1918.

First published in the year 1915, the present book ‘Stories of Later American History’ was written by Wilbur F. Gordy. This book was written purposely to provide a compendium of the later history of America for the students of Grade V as per the material provided by the concerned governmental authorities.

Included in this collection are The Ghost – William D. O’Connor, The Four-Fifteen Express – Amelia B. Edwards, The Signal-Man – Charles Dickens, The Haunted Ships – Allan Cunningham, A Raft That No Man Made – Robert T.S. Lowell, The Invisible Princess – Francis O’Connor, The Advocate’s Wedding-Day – Catherine Crowe, and The Birthmark -Nathaniel Hawthorne.

stories of Robin Hood in a lively retelling that chronicles the events of the time in which Robin Hood lived. Describes how and why he came to live in the Green Wood, and the adventures he had there with Little John, Maid Marian, and the Sheriff of Nottingham. Selections from the original ballads are woven into the story. A delightful introduction to these stories for children ages 8 and up

Stories that never grow old. The Junior Classics constitute a set of books whose contents will delight children and at the same time satisfy the legitimate ethical requirements of those who have the children’s best interests at heart. Beautifully illustrated.

Now we have little left but stories of our fathers. They, too, will soon be lost and forgotten, but a voice has come to speak for us. Yeh sen noh wehs—the one who tells the stories—will carry these stories of our fathers to Paleface. She will help White man to understand Indian, Indian to be understood. She will have all men brothers.

Indian’s heart is glad that Yeh sen noh wehs, our white friend, has come to us. She have good eyes. She see right. She like things Indian. She try to preserve them. Our old men and women tell her the stories told them, many, many moons ago, when little children.

The present work, ‘Strange Interlude’, is an experimental play by American playwright Eugene O’Neill. It is written in nine acts. Written in 1923, it won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama for its 1928 Broadway production. The play’s subject matter, very controversial for the 1920s, led to it being censored or banned in many cities outside New York. ‘Strange Interlude’ makes extensive use of a soliloquy technique, in which the characters speak their inner thoughts to the audience.