The Beast of Space is presented here in a high quality paperback edition. This popular classic work by F. E. Hardart is in the English language, and may not include graphics or images from the original edition. If you enjoy the works of F. E. Hardart then we highly recommend this publication for your book collection.

The barn turned out to be a spaceship in disguise, and that was only the beginning. Before his strange adventure ended, young Paul Asher found himself going around in circles—very peculiar circles indeed!The barn turned out to be a spaceship in disguise, and that was only the beginning. Before his strange adventure ended, young Paul Asher found himself going around in circles—very peculiar circles indeed!

Prison of a Billion Years is presented here in a high quality paperback edition. This popular classic work by Stephen Marlowe is in the English language, and may not include graphics or images from the original edition. If you enjoy the works of Stephen Marlowe then we highly recommend this publication for your book collection.

Halsey Davidson wrote this popular book that continues to be widely read today despite its age.

Buddy Jim By Elizabeth GordonBuddy Jim By Elizabeth Gordon

A classic novel of mystery and adventure for boys.

"I cannot understand why the children do not return from the beach. They have been gone so long." "None too long," sighed Nathalie Lawrence, swinging lazily to and fro in a hammock which was hung across one end of the veranda. "What a heaven it is without them. I declare, Helen," she continued, addressing her sister in aggrieved tone, "we do get a lot of those children, somehow or other. For my part, I cannot see why you let them stay about with us all the time, when they are a thousand times better off with Mary," and she gave a vindictive tug at a rope fastened to the railing, which sent the hammock back and forth with the utmost rapidity.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Carolyn Wells (June 18, 1862 – March 26, 1942) was an American author and poet. Born in Rahway, New Jersey,[1] she was the daughter of William E. and Anna Wells. She died at the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital in New York City in 1942 Wells had been married to Hadwin Houghton, the heir of the Houghton-Mifflin publishing empire founded by Bernard Houghton. Wells also had an impressive collection of volumes of poetry by others. She bequeathed her collection of Walt Whitman poetry, said to be one of the most important of its kind for its completeness and rarity, to the Library of Congress. After finishing school she worked as a librarian for the Rahway Library Association. Her first book, At the Sign of the Sphinx (1896), was a collection of charades. Her next publications were The Jingle Book and The Story of Betty (1899), followed by a book of verse entitled Idle Idyls (1900). After 1900, Wells wrote numerous novels and collections of poetry. Carolyn Wells wrote a total of more than 170 books. During the first ten years of her career, she concentrated on poetry, humor and children's books. According to her autobiography, The Rest of My Life (1937), it was around 1910 that she heard one of Anna Katherine Green's mystery novels being read aloud and was immediately captivated by the unravelling of the puzzle. From that point onward she devoted herself to the mystery genre. Among the most famous of her mystery novels were the Fleming Stone Detective Stories which.

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

It was a fine, hot July day on the banks of the Severn river at Tewkesbury, that quaint, old-world, and somewhat decayed town, which offers to the inspection of the visitor and the archæologist some of the most ancient and interesting buildings to be seen in any part of broad England. There was some stir on the banks of the river, for two public schools, one of them situate in the west of England, the other hailing from a Midland shire, were about to contest with one another in their annual boat race. From the Western school a considerable contingent of lads had come over; these were discussing, with the enthusiasm of schoolboys, the prospects of the races. On the banks, gathered near the winning-post, were also to be seen a number of other spectators, some from the town itself, others from the neighbouring country-side.The fateful moment at length had come; the two boats were to be seen in the distance, their oarsmen battling with one another with all the desperate energy that youth and strength and an invincible determination could put into their task. As they drew nearer it was to be seen that the Midland school was leading by nearly half a length. A quarter of a mile remained to be rowed. Loud cries from the Western school resounded along the banks. Hope struggled against hope in every youthful breast; yet it seemed that if the oarsmen of the Western school were to make that final effort for which they were famous, it was now almost too late. But, no! the Western stroke is seen to be calling upon his crew; their flashing blades dip quicker, and yet quicker; they are well together, all apparently animated by the vigour and the reserve of force displayed by their leader. Foot by foot they diminish the lead of their adversaries, who are striving desperately, yet ineffectually, to retain their advantage. A hundred yards from the winning-post the Western lads are level; and as the post is passed they have defeated their adversaries, after one of the finest races ever rowed between the two schools, by a quarter of a length.Amid the exultant and tremendous cheering that now greets the triumph of the Western school, both crews paddle to the boat-house and disembark. The boats are got out and housed, and all but the Western captain and stroke, Guy Hardcastle, are inside the boathouse, bathing and changing their clothes. Guy Hardcastle, a strong, well-set-up lad of seventeen, lingers on the platform in conversation with his house-master, Mr. Brimley-Fair, who has come down to congratulate him on his victory. He is a good-looking lad, fresh complexioned, with fair brown hair, a firm mouth, and a pair of steady, blue-gray eyes, which look the world frankly in the face, with an aspect of candour, friendliness, and self-reliance that most people find very attractive.CONTENTS1. School Days2. Bamborough Farm3. Up-country Life4. The Gold Spoor5. The Trek Begins6. The Shadowers and the Shadowed7. Adventures in the Veldt8. The Elephant Country9. In the Thirst-land10. Tom's Story.--The Baboon Boy11. The Berg Damaras12. The Lion Camp13. Guy is Missing14. Poeskop to the Rescue15. The Kloof16. Gathering Gold17. The Shadowers' Attack18. The Last of Karl Engelbrecht19. Homeward Bound

This book is one of the classic book of all time.

The third book in the D'Artagnan Romances series. It is now 1660, and although promised the captaincy of the musketeers at the close of Twenty Years After, D'Artagnan is still trailing his sword in the Louvre as a lowly lieutenant. Louis XIV is well past the age where he should rule, but the ailing Cardinal Mazarin refuses to relinquish the reins of power. Meanwhile, Charles II, a king without a country, travels Europe seeking aid from his fellow monarchs. Athos still resides at La Fère while his son, Raoul de Bragelonne, has entered into the service in the household of M. le Prince. As for Raoul, he has his eyes on an entirely different object than his father – his childhood companion, Louise de la Vallière, with whom he is hopelessly in love. Porthos, now a baron, is off on some mysterious mission along with Aramis, who is now the Bishop of Vannes.

An accidental romance about two characters who realize that their author sucks at writing.A dark comedy about an author who loses control of her characters.

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There is probably no one writing to-day who has so well caught the trick of this particular sort of pseudo-history, in which real personages and real events are so dexterously interwoven with a tissue of purely imaginary happenings, and the causes of great international crises attributed to the audacious intrigues of some charming adventurers invented expressly for the occasion, as Mr. Hough has succeeded in doing. And all the while, he does it with a swing and verve, a frank good will, and such a naive assurance that the reader's enjoyment fully equals his own, that he quite disarms criticism. The date of the story coincides with the presidency of Mr. Tyler, when the country seemed to be on the eve of war not only with Mexico, but with England as well; and when James K. Polk and John Calhoun were also playing their parts in working out the nation's destiny. It matters little whether these historic personages ever really said or did the precise things attributed to them by Mr. Hough or not. The main point is that what he makes them say is thoroughly in keeping with the whole spirit of the sort of romantic fiction he aspires to write.

The Building of the Ship Just half a century had elapsed since, cutting down the virgin forest to make room for the ways, they laid her keel blocks in the clearing. With the cunning brain of Henry Eckford, one of the greatest of our shipbuilders, to plan, and the skilful hands of the New England shipwrights to execute, with timber cut by the sturdy woodsmen from where it stood in the forest, the giant frames rose apace, until presently, in an incredibly short time, there stood upon Ship House Point a mighty vessel ready for the launching.

A ribbon of winding road leads northeast from the pueblo of Domingo and the snaky Bajada hill where gray rocks lie thickly; it is a yellowish ribbon of road, sweeping over the gigantic mesa toward Santa Fé and the sweetly glowing Blood of Christ peaks—great peaks of green spearing into the sky, white-crested, and tipped with blood at sunset. Along this ribbon of dusty yellow road was crawling a flivver. It was crawling slowly, in a jerky series of advances and pauses; as it crept along its intermittent course, the woman who sat behind the wheel was cursing her iron steed in a thorough and heartfelt manner.