The Autocrat of the Breakfast-tableW. Paterson, 1858 - 279 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 19
... took a week , that is , were hanging round the desk in a ragged , forlorn , unrhymed condition as long as that . All poets will tell you just such stories . C'est le Dder- NIER pas qui coute . Don't you know how hard it is for some ...
... took a week , that is , were hanging round the desk in a ragged , forlorn , unrhymed condition as long as that . All poets will tell you just such stories . C'est le Dder- NIER pas qui coute . Don't you know how hard it is for some ...
Page 22
... took him a good many years to build it , and one could see that it was a little out of plumb , and a little wavy in outline , and a little queer and uncertain in general aspect . A regular hand could certainly have built a better house ...
... took him a good many years to build it , and one could see that it was a little out of plumb , and a little wavy in outline , and a little queer and uncertain in general aspect . A regular hand could certainly have built a better house ...
Page 24
... took rank on the catalogue from their parents ' condition . Elzevirs , with the Latinized appellations of youthful progenitors , and Hic liber est meus on the title - page . A set of Hogarth's original plates . Pope , original edition ...
... took rank on the catalogue from their parents ' condition . Elzevirs , with the Latinized appellations of youthful progenitors , and Hic liber est meus on the title - page . A set of Hogarth's original plates . Pope , original edition ...
Page 29
... ? " Why , " said he , " you are wasting mechantable literature , a cash article , at the rate , as nearly as I can tell , of fifty dollars an hour . " The talker took him to the window THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE . 29.
... ? " Why , " said he , " you are wasting mechantable literature , a cash article , at the rate , as nearly as I can tell , of fifty dollars an hour . " The talker took him to the window THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE . 29.
Page 30
Oliver Wendell Holmes. hour . " The talker took him to the window and asked him to look out and tell what he saw . " Nothing but a very dusty street , " he said , " and a man driving a sprinkling - machine through it . " " Why don't you ...
Oliver Wendell Holmes. hour . " The talker took him to the window and asked him to look out and tell what he saw . " Nothing but a very dusty street , " he said , " and a man driving a sprinkling - machine through it . " " Why don't you ...
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Common terms and phrases
American elm asphyxia beneath Benjamin Franklin better boarders bombazine brain call John chair cheroot comes commonly conversation course dandyism dear divinity-student Doctors of Divinity dream England English elm EPES SARGENT eyes face fact falchion fancy feel feet flowers follicule Greek language green grow half hand head hear heard heart Houyhnhnm human intellectual kind lady landlady's daughter laugh lecture lips literary live long path look man's mean meerschaum ment mind morning muslin Nature never o'er old age old gentleman opposite once perhaps person poem poets poor pretty Price Professor remarks remember round rowlocks schoolmistress seen smile sometimes soul speak spring stone story suppose sweet talk tell things thought tion told tree truth TURELL turned uttered verses voice walk waves woman words write young fellow youth
Popular passages
Page 110 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl; Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
Page 110 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Page 296 - Last of its timber, — they couldn't sell 'em, Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he 'put her through.
Page 298 - The parson was working his Sunday's text,— Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the— Moses— was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill.
Page 111 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings — Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Page 313 - My choice would be vanilla-ice. I care not much for gold or land; — Give me a mortgage here and there, — Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share, — I only ask that Fortune send A little more than I shall spend.
Page 358 - If it please the king, and if I have found favor in his sight, and the thing seem right before the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes, let it be written to reverse the letters devised by Haman the...
Page 295 - Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, And then, of a sudden, it — ah, but stay...
Page 76 - My listening angel heard the prayer, and, calmly smiling, said, " If I but touch thy silvered hair, thy hasty wish hath sped. " But is there nothing in thy track to bid thee fondly stay, While the swift seasons hurry back to find the wished-for day...
Page 295 - Snuffy old drone from the German hive ! That was the year when Lisbon-town Saw the earth open and gulp her down, And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible Earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss-shay.