类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：383 作者： 未知
简介：Widow of a village merchant, mistress of an unpretending house in the little town of Plainton, Maine, and, by strange vicissitudes of fortune, the possessor of great wealth, she was on her way from Pa...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：545 作者： 未知
简介：When Cabell Graeme was courting pretty Betty French up at the Chateau place, though he had many rivals and not a few obstacles to overcome, he had the good fortune to secure one valuable ally, whose f...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：574 作者： 未知
简介：It was in my own home, the German Embassy in London, where the atmosphere was entirely political, that I learned my first steps in politics. My father did not belong to that class of diplomats, so pre...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：387 作者： 未知
简介：The bus drove up to the gate and stopped under the electric street-light. Perched on the box by the big, black negro driver sat a little boy whose slender figure was swathed in a huge rain coat....
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：428 作者： 未知
简介：The Board of Lady Managers of the Worlds Columbian Commission, having been created and authorized by the concurrent action of Congress and the Columbian Commission, to take entire charge of the intere...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：834 作者： 未知
简介：Old Goody Parsons, with her cleanest white kerchief, her most sorrowful expression of face and her biggest brown basket, had gone down through the village and across the hill to tell Master Simon what...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：584 作者： 未知
简介：Leon Gautier, in opening his history of the epic poetry of France, ascribes the primitive poetic utterance of mankind to a religious impulse. Represent to yourselves, he says, the first man at the mom...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：437 作者： Grant Allen
简介：Then you dont care for the place yourself, Tyrrel? Eustace Le Neve said, musingly, as he gazed in front of him with a comprehensive glance at the long gray moor and the wide expanse of black and storm...
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：401 作者： 未知
简介：On the day when I found myself with twopence in my pocket, I naturally made up my mind to go round the world....
类别：英文短篇小说 点击次数：498 作者： Grant Allen
简介：We sat late on the verandah last night, listening to the low trilling croon of the night-jar. It was a balmy evening, one of the few this summer; the sunset was lingering over the heather-clad moors, ...
