And in the evening after the high tea which was their last meal, while they sat in the stiff parlour, the ladies working and Dr Macphail smoking his pipe, the missionary told them of his work in the islands. When we went there they had no sense of si

发表于:2018-12-28 / 阅读(65) / 评论(0) 分类 英文短篇小说

In weather like this a native hut must be a rather uncomfortable place to live in. I lived in one for years, said the missionary. When the little native girl brought in the fried bananas which formed the sweet they had every day, Davidson turned to h

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After supper he saw Horn on the veranda and, as though to have a casual word with him, went out. She wants to know if youve seen the governor, the trader whispered. Yes. He wouldnt do anything. Im awfully sorry, I cant do anything more. I knew he wou

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1. Nice networks don't go down It was unthinkable that the invisible ants that governed all human endeavor should catastrophically fail, but fail they did, catastrophically, on the occasion of Trish's eighth date with Rainer. It took nineteen seconds

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She got the boy breathing and ended up with more puke on her face, on Rainer's jacket, in her hair. His pulse was thready but there. She turned to the swimmer and saw that he was a muscular surfer dude in board shorts with a couple of bitchun tatts a

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3. Conflict of Insect Trish gathered her staff in the board room and wrote the following in glowing letters on the wall with her fingertip, leaving the text in her expressive schoolmarm's handwriting rather than converting it to some sterile font: Fi

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It's interesting that Ms. McCavity should disavow any technical expertise, since that's what we've been saying all along. If she's getting stuck in traffic, it's because there's a lot of traffic. The ant-nets route five thousand percent more traffic

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SHALL I EXPECT YOU next Wednesday for our game as usual? asked Mr Mellilow. Of course, of course, replied Mr Creech. Very glad theres no ill feeling, Mellilow. Next Wednesday as usual. Unless his heavy face darkened for a moment, as though at some di

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I Mrs. St. Vincent was adding up figures. Once or twice she sighed, and her hand stole to her aching forehead. She had always disliked arithmetic. It was unfortunate that nowadays her life should seem to be composed entirely of one particular kind of

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Chapter I. WITHOUT, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, put

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The Red Death had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal --the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at th

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The Magic Shop written by H. G. Wells narrated by Michael Scott produced by ThoughtAudio.com I had seen the Magic Shop from afar several times; I had passed it once or twice, a shop window of alluring little objects, magic balls, magic hens, wonderfu

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Chapter II. IN the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table Herbert laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shri

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Chapter III. IN the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state of

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The Open Window MY aunt will be down presently, Mr. Nuttel, said a very self-possessed young lady of fifteen; in the meantime you must try and put up with me. Framton Nuttel endeavoured to say the correct something which should duly flatter the niece

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I am in love with my wife, he said--a superfluous remark, as I had not questioned his attachment to the woman he had married. We walked for ten minutes and then he said it again. I turned to look at him. He began to talk and told me the tale I am now

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The Reach was wider in those days, Stella Flanders told her great-grandchildren in the last summer of her life, the summer before she began to see ghosts. The children looked at her with wide, silent eyes, and her son, Alden, turned from his seat on

发表于:2018-12-03 / 阅读(179) / 评论(0) 分类 英文短篇小说

She started out the door and saw Alden's hat, the one with the fur-lined ear flaps, hanging on one of the pegs in the entry. She put it onthe bill came all the way down to her shaggy salt-and-pepper eyebrowsand then looked around one last time to see

发表于:2018-12-03 / 阅读(162) / 评论(0) 分类 英文短篇小说

When the World Was Young by Jack London - from 'The Night-Born and Other Stories' (1913). Read by William Coon HE was a very quiet, self-possessed sort of man, sitting a moment on top of the wall to sound the damp darkness for warnings of the dangers

发表于:2018-12-03 / 阅读(88) / 评论(0) 分类 英文短篇小说

DAY HAD BROKEN cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. It was a steep bank,

发表于:2018-12-03 / 阅读(122) / 评论(0) 分类 英文短篇小说