| 61 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Margret Howth: A Story of To-Day | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | LET me tell you a story of To-Day,—very
homely and narrow in its scope and aim. Not
of the To-Day whose significance in the history
of humanity only those shall read who will
live when you and I are dead. We can bear
the pain in silence, if our hearts are strong
enough, while the nations of the earth stand
afar off. I have no word of this To-Day to
speak. I write from the border of the battlefield,
and I find in it no theme for shallow argument
or flimsy rhymes. The shadow of death
has fallen on us; it chills the very heaven. No
child laughs in my face as I pass down the
street. Men have forgotten to hope, forgotten
to pray; only in the bitterness of endurance,
they say "in the morning, `Would God it were
even!' and in the evening, `Would God it were
morning!' '' Neither I nor you have the prophet's
vision to see the age as its meaning stands
written before God. Those who shall live when
we are dead may tell their children, perhaps,
how, out of anguish and darkness such as the
world seldom has borne, the enduring morning
evolved of the true world and the true man.
It is not clear to us. Hands wet with a brother's
blood for the Right, a slavery of intolerance,
the hackneyed cant of men, or the blood-thirstiness of women, utter no prophecy to us
of the great To-Morrow of content and right
that holds the world. Yet the To-Morrow is
there; if God lives, it is there. The voice of
the meek Nazarene, which we have deafened
down as ill-timed, unfit to teach the watchword
of the hour, renews the quiet promise of its
coming in simple, humble things. Let us go
down and look for it. There is no need that
we should feebly vaunt and madden ourselves
over our self-seen rights, whatever they may
be, forgetting what broken shadows they are
of eternal truths in that calm where He sits
and with His quiet hand controls us. | | Similar Items: | Find |
62 | Author: | Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | A Middle-Aged Woman | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | THE clock was pointing to six when Mrs. Shore and her son's wife
turned into a shaded street on their way home. The air blew sharply
up from the sea. Mrs. Shore buttoned her fur cape and quickened
her pace. Maria, as usual, lagged a step behind her. Maria was a
tall, willowy girl with delicate features and milk and rose tints in her
skin. She had the conscious pose of the acknowledged beauty in a
small town, for in her old home, Ford City, Kansas, newspapers had
ranked her with Helen of Troy and Recamier. But her blue eyes
were dull and evasive; she laughed at the end of every sentence, as
if not sure of herself or her companion or of anything else. | | Similar Items: | Find |
63 | Author: | Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916. | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Princess Aline | | | Published: | 1994 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | H. R. H. the Princess Aline of Hohenwald came into the life of Morton Carlton
— or "Morney" Carlton, as men called him — of New York city,
when that young gentleman's affairs and affections were best suited to receive
her. Had she made her appearance three years sooner or three years later, it is
quite probable that she would have passed on out of his life with no more
recognition from him than would have been expressed in a look of admiring
curiosity. | | Similar Items: | Find |
64 | Author: | Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916. | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Scarlet Car | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | For a long time it had been arranged they all should go to the Harvard and Yale game in
Winthrop's car. It was perfectly well understood. Even Peabody, who pictured himself and Miss
Forbes in the back of the car, with her brother and Winthrop in front, condescended to approve.
It was necessary to invite Peabody because it was his great good fortune to be engaged to Miss
Forbes. Her brother Sam had been invited, not only because he could act as chaperon for his
sister, but because since they were at St. Paul's,
Winthrop and he, either as participants or spectators, had never missed going together to the
Yale-Harvard game. And Beatrice Forbes herself had been invited because she was herself. | | Similar Items: | Find |
65 | Author: | Deland, Margaret Wade Campbell, 1857-1945. | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Way to Peace | | | Published: | 2000 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | ATHALIA HALL stopped to get her breath and look back over the road climbing steeply up
from the covered bridge. It was a little after five, and the delicate air of dawn was full
of wood and pasture scents — the sweetness of bay and the freshness of
dew-drenched leaves. In the valley night still hung like gauze under the trees, but the
top of the hill was glittering with sunshine. | | Similar Items: | Find |
70 | Author: | Dunbar, Alice | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Edouard | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | PERE BOUTIN came down the sandy, pine-bordered walk with a knotted brow and a
gait that grew slower and slower. He was perplexed and his forehead knitted more
and more in a comical assumption of dignity. Père Boutin thought that
he was dignified, but when one weighs two hundred pounds, and is short and rolls
in one's gait, is it reasonable to expect that the world will be impressed by
one's magnificence? | | Similar Items: | Find |
71 | Author: | Dunbar, Alice | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Lesie, the Choir Boy | | | Published: | 1996 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | OVER and above all things nature had been lavish to Lesie Channing in the matter
of a voice. It was a full, clear soprano with rich tones in it that presaged a
marvel of tone in later years. He loved to sing. It was a pure joy to him to
fill the hall and room of his tenement home with the only tunes that he
knew—"coon" songs and music-hall ballads. But while he delighted in
the sounds that he made, no one had ever told Lesie that his voice was
marvellous. | | Similar Items: | Find |
72 | Author: | Van Dyke, Henry, 1852-1933 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Blue Flower | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | The parents were abed and sleeping. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and
lazily, as if it had time to spare. Outside the rattling windows there was a
restless, whispering wind. The room grew light, and dark, and wondrous light
again, as the moon played hide-and-seek through the clouds. The boy, wide-awake
and quiet in his bed, was thinking of the Stranger and his stories. | | Similar Items: | Find |
73 | Author: | Ferber, Edna | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Buttered Side Down | | | Published: | 1994 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | Any one who has ever written for the magazines (nobody could
devise a more sweeping opening; it includes the iceman who does a
humorous article on the subject of his troubles, and the
neglected wife next door, who journalizes) knows that a story the scene of
which is not New York is merely junk. Take Fifth Avenue as a
framework, pad it out to five thousand words, and there you have
the ideal short story. | | Similar Items: | Find |
74 | Author: | Ferber, Edna | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Fanny Herself | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | You could not have lived a week in Winnebago without being aware of Mrs.
Brandeis. In a town of ten thousand, where every one was a personality, from Hen
Cody, the drayman, in blue overalls (magically transformed on Sunday mornings
into a suave black-broadcloth usher at the Congregational Church), to A. J.
Dawes, who owned the waterworks before the city bought it. Mrs. Brandeis was a
super-personality. Winnebago did not know it. Winnebago, buying its dolls, and
china, and Battenberg braid and tinware and toys of Mrs. Brandeis, of Brandeis'
Bazaar, realized vaguely that here was some one different. | | Similar Items: | Find |
79 | Author: | Fox, John | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Knight of the Cumberland | | | Published: | 1995 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | HIGH noon of a crisp October day,
sunshine flooding the earth with
the warmth and light of old wine and,
going single-file up through the jagged
gap that the dripping of water has worn
down through the Cumberland Mountains
from crest to valley-level, a gray horse
and two big mules, a man and two young
girls. On the gray horse, I led the
tortuous way. After me came my small
sister—and after her and like her, mule-back, rode the Blight—dressed as she
would be for a gallop in Central Park or
to ride a hunter in a horse show. | | Similar Items: | Find |
80 | Author: | Fox, John, 1863-1919 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come | | | Published: | 2001 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | Description: | THE days of that April had been days of mist and rain. Sometimes, for hours, there would
come a miracle of blue sky, white cloud, and yellow light, but always between dark and
dark the rain would fall and the mist creep up the mountains and steam from the
tops—only to roll together from either range, drip back into the valleys, and
lift, straightway, as mist again. So that, all the while Nature was trying to give lustier
life to every living thing in the lowland Bluegrass, all the while a gaunt skeleton was
stalking down the Cumberland— tapping with fleshless knuckles, now at some
unlovely cottage of faded white and green, and now at a log cabin, stark and gray. Passing
the mouth of Lonesome, he flashed his scythe into its unlifting shadows and went stalking
on. High up, at the source of the dismal little stream, the point of the shining blade
darted thrice into the open door of a cabin set
deep into a shaggy flank of Black Mountain, and three spirits, within, were quickly loosed
from aching flesh for the long flight into the unknown. | | Similar Items: | Find |
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