The Chap-book, Volume 3Herbert Stuart Stone Stone and Kimball, 1895 - Chicago (Ill.) |
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50 cents ALINE beautiful BERTRAND better Bobbie bottle BRIGADIER C. D. Gibson CHAP-BOOK CHAP-BOOK SEMI-MONTHLY CHARLES Chicago child cloth Creech cried dead dear delightful Dick Ryder door DUMONT edition English eyes face father fellow Fiona Macleod fire French Revolution GILBERT PARKER girl give Golgothar GORIOT Grand Duke hand head heart History Holst hour Illustrated Kenneth Grahame knew Lady laugh literary literature lived looked Lord Louise Louise Labé Lowell Institute MACAIRE MARQUIS never night NOTARY Old Rowley paper Penelope Plato poems poet Ralph Adams Cram Robert Louis Stevenson Salon des Cent says Scarlet Hills SCENE Selina smile song soul STONE & KIMBALL story SUBSCRIPTION sweet Tested by Mirabeau's thing thou Timothy Grubbe Tinoir turned uncut edges voice volume WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY wine woman York young Zacchary
Popular passages
Page 273 - Du temps que la Nature en sa verve puissante Concevait chaque jour des enfants monstrueux, J'eusse aimé vivre auprès d'une jeune géante, Comme aux pieds d'une reine un chat voluptueux.
Page 224 - Two men have the same thoughts; they use about the same words in expressing them; yet with one the product is real literature, with the other it is a platitude.
Page 7 - What's a mother ? an old woman. A father ? the gentleman who beats her. What is crime ? discovery. Virtue ? opportunity. Politics ? a pretext. Affection ? an affectation. Morality ? an affair of latitude. Punishment ? this side the frontier. Reward ? the other. Property ? plunder. Business ? other people's money — not mine, by God! and the end of life to live till we are hanged. BERTRAND. Macaire, I came into this place with my tail between my legs already, and hungry besides; and then you get...
Page 3 - A WAITER. ERNESTINE, Goriot's Daughter. ALINE. MAIDS, PEASANTS (Male and Female), GENDARMES. The Scene is laid in the Courtyard of the Auberge des Adrets, on the frontier of France and Savoy. The time 1820. The Action occupies an interval of from twelve to fourteen hours ; from four in the afternoon till about five in the morning. NOTE. — The time between the acts should be as brief as possible, and the piece played, where it is merely comic, in a vein of patter.
Page 187 - Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust does corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: 20 but lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven...
Page 224 - Choice words, faultless rhetoric, polished periods, are only the accidents of style. Indeed, perfect workmanship is one thing; style, as the great writers have it, is quite another. It may, and often does, go with faulty workmanship. It is the use of words in a fresh and vital way, so as to give us a vivid sense of a new spiritual force and personality.
Page 30 - DUMONT'S pocket. ) An idea: suppose you felt in your pocket ? ALL (rising). Yes! Suppose you did ! DUMONT. I will not feel in my pockets. How could it be there ? It's a patent key. This is more than any man can bear. First, Charles is one man's son, and then he's another's, and then he's nobody's, and be damned to him!
Page 13 - Goriot, let's have happy faces! GORIOT. Happy faces be danged! I want to marry my daater; I want your son. But who be this? I don't know, and you don't know, and he don't know. He may be anybody; by Jarge, he may be nobody! (Exclamations.) CURATE. The situation is crepuscular. ERNESTINE. Father, and Mr. Dumont (and you too, Charles), I wish to say one word. You gave us leave to fall in love ; we fell in love ; and as for me, my father, I will either marry Charles, or die a maid. CHARLES. And you,...
Page 12 - DUMONT. 0 no, far from it. GORIOT. Then who the devil's son be he? DUMONT. O, I don't know. It's an odd tale, a romantic tale : it may amuse you. It was twenty years ago, when I kept...
Page 15 - Sir, you have a noble nature. (MACAIRE picks his pocket.) Dear me, dear me, and you are rich. MACAIRE. I own, sir, I deceived you: I feared some wounding offer, and my pride replied. But to be quite frank with you, you behold me here, the Baron HenriFrederic de Latour de Main de la Tonnerre de Brest, and between my simple manhood and the infinite these rags are all. DUMONT.