Story of a white blackbird, by L.C.A. de Musset. The outcasts of Poker Flat, by F.B. Harte. The attack on the mill, by E. Zola. The leg, by J.H.D. Zschokke. Markheim, by R.L. Stevenson. L'Arrabiata, by J.L.P. HeyseHamilton Wright Mabie, Lionel Strachey Doubleday, Page, 1904 |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
accordion ALFRED DE MUSSET Anacapri answer Antonio arms asked began behold beneath bird blood boat bullets Capri captain charming child courtyard cried curato daugh dealer dear Dominique Dominique's door drew Duchess ÉMILE ZOLA eyes face Father Merlier fear fell fire forest FRANCIS Bret Harte Françoise Gagny gazed girl hand head heard heart Heaven heim hour Kacatogan kissed laughing Laurella lenitive listen live look Markheim mill mind Morelle morning Mother Shipton murmured never night Oakhurst officer padre PAUL HEYSE Piney pity Poker Flat porringer Prussians replied returned ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON Rocreuse seemed shadows shoulder side silence sleep smile soldiers Sorrento sound stood suddenly tears tell Thévenet thing thought took trees turned turtle-dove Uncle Billy village voice wall whistling white blackbird wife window wood word
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 60 - But all human stain, all trace of earthly travail, was hidden beneath the spotless mantle mercifully flung from above. They slept all that day and the next, nor did they waken when voices and footsteps broke the silence of the camp. And when pitying fingers brushed the snow from their wan faces, you could scarcely have told, from the equal peace that dwelt upon them, which was she that had sinned.
الصفحة 50 - Woods had objected, and so they had run away, and were going to Poker Flat to be married, and here they were. And they were tired out, and how lucky it was they had found a place to camp and company. All this the Innocent delivered rapidly, while Piney, a stout, comely damsel of fifteen, emerged from behind the pinetree, where she had been blushing unseen, and rode to the side of her lover.
الصفحة 128 - ... when I should be balancing my books; you will have to pay, besides, for a kind of manner that I remark in you today very strongly. I am the essence of discretion and ask no awkward questions; but when a customer cannot look me in the eye, he has to pay for it.
الصفحة 145 - I know you," replied the visitant, with a sort of kind severity or rather firmness. "I know you to the soul." "Know me!" cried Markheim. "Who can do so? My life is but a travesty and slander on myself. I have lived to belie my nature. All men do; all men are better than this disguise that grows about and stifles them. You see each dragged away by life, like one whom bravos have seized and muffled in a '. cloak. If they had their own control— if you could see their faces, they would be altogether...
الصفحة 150 - I will propound to you one simple question," said the other; "and as you answer, I shall read to you your moral horoscope. You have grown in many things more lax; possibly you do right to be so; and at any account, it is the same .with all men. But granting that, are you in any one particular, however trifling, more difficult to please with your own conduct, or do you go in all things with a looser rein?" "In any one?" repeated Markheim, with an anguish of consideration. "No," he added, with despair,...
الصفحة 136 - ... was exceedingly faint, and showed dimly on the threshold of the shop. And yet, in that strip of doubtful brightness, did there not hang wavering a shadow ? Suddenly, from the street outside, a very jovial gentleman began to beat with a staff on the shop-door, accompanying his blows with shouts and railleries in which the dealer was continually called upon by name. Markheim, smitten into ice glanced at the dead man. But no! he lay quite still; he was fled away far beyond earshot of these blows...
الصفحة 129 - be it so. You are an old customer after all; and if, as you say, you have the chance of a good marriage, far be it from me to be an obstacle. Here is a nice thing for a lady now...
الصفحة 150 - ... though I be fallen to such a crime as murder, pity is no stranger to my thoughts. I pity the poor; who knows their trials better than myself? I pity and help them; I prize love, I love honest laughter; there is no good thing nor true thing on earth but I love it from my heart. And are my vices only 'to direct my life, and my virtues to lie without effect, like some passive lumber of the mind? Not so; good, also, is a spring of acts.
الصفحة 44 - THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT BY BRET HARTE AS Mr. John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker Flat on the morning of the twenty-third of November, 1850, he was conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night. Two or three men, conversing earnestly together, ceased as he approached, and exchanged significant glances. There was a Sabbath lull in the air, which, in a settlement unused to Sabbath influences, looked ominous. Mr. Oakhurst's calm, handsome face betrayed...
الصفحة 56 - The third day came, and the sun, looking through the whitecurtained valley, saw the outcasts divide their slowly decreasing store of provisions for the morning meal. It was one of the peculiarities of that mountain climate that its rays diffused a kindly warmth over the wintry landscape, as if in regretful commiseration of the past. But it revealed drift on drift of snow piled high around the hut; a hopeless, uncharted, trackless sea of white lying below the rocky shores to which the castaways still...