Recently added books

A Kentucky Cardinal

Creator: Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925
Translator: -
Contributor: -
Editor: -


Brand new books:


Constantly since darkness came on I have been watching Georgiana's window for the light of her candle, but there has been no kindly glimmer yet. The only radiance shed upon the gloom outside comes from the heavens. Great cage-shaped white clouds are swung up to the firmament, and within these pale, gentle, imprisoned lightnings flutter feebly to escape, fall back, rise, and try again and again, and fail. . . . _A little after dark this evening I carried the red-bird over to Georgiana_. . . . I have seen her so little of late that I did not know she had been away from home for days. But she expected to-night, or, at furthest, to-morrow morning. I left the bird with the servant at the door, who could hardly believe what he saw. As I passed out of my front gate on my way there, the boy who returns about that time from the pasture for his cows joined me as I hurried along, attracted by the fluttering of the bird in the cage. "Is it the red-bird? _I_ tried to ketch him once," he said, with entire forgiveness of me, as having served him right, "but I caught something else. I'll never forget _that_ whipping. Oh, but _wouldn't_ I like to have him! Mr. Moss, you wouldn't mind my trying to ketch one of them little bits o' brown fellows, would
Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the English Stage (1704); Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage in a Letter to a Lady (1704)

[Transcriber's Note: + Hyphens splitting words across lines have been removed. + Original spellings have generally been retained, but obvious corrections have been made silently, and the original text can be found in the HTML or the XML version.] Series Three: Essays on the Stage No. 2 Anon., Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the English Stage (1704) and Anon., Some thoughts Concerning the Stage (1704)
you, that hops around under them pine-trees? They ain't no account to nobody. Oh my! but _wouldn't_ I like to have him! May I bring _my_ trap some time, and will you help me to ketch one o' them little bits o' brown ones? You can beat _me_ ketchin' 'em!" Several times to-night I have gone across and listened under Georgiana's window. The servant must have set the cage in her room, for, as I listened, I am sure I heard the red-bird beating his head and breast against the wires. Awhile ago I went again, and did not hear him. I waited a long time. . . . _He may be quieted_. . . . Ah, if any one had said to me that I would ever do what I have done, with what full, deep joy could I have throttled the lie in his throat! I put the trap under one of the trees where I have been used to feed him. When it fell he was not greatly frightened. He clutched the side of it, and looked out at me. My own mind supplied his words: "Help! I'm caught! Take me out! You promised!" When I transferred him to the cage, for a moment his confidence lasted still. He mounted the perch, shook his plumage, and spoke out bravely and cheerily. Then all at once came on the terror. The dawn came on this morning with its old splendor. The birds in my yard, as of old, poured forth their songs. But those loud, long, clear, melodious, deep-hearted, passionate, best-loved notes!