Child Classics, Bücher 5Bobbs-Merrill, 1909 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 8
Seite 206
... As a novelist Tolstoy is dramatic and deeply thoughtful . On Tolstoy's eightieth birthday , celebrated in 1908 , he received congratulations from all parts of the world . Pahom , a Russian in Tolstoy's story , was a. 206 THE FIFTH READER.
... As a novelist Tolstoy is dramatic and deeply thoughtful . On Tolstoy's eightieth birthday , celebrated in 1908 , he received congratulations from all parts of the world . Pahom , a Russian in Tolstoy's story , was a. 206 THE FIFTH READER.
Seite 207
... Pahom at once took the richest dressing - gown and five pounds of tea and presented them to him . He accepted the gifts , and when he had taken the seat of honor the Bashkirs proceeded to explain matters to him . He heard it all ...
... Pahom at once took the richest dressing - gown and five pounds of tea and presented them to him . He accepted the gifts , and when he had taken the seat of honor the Bashkirs proceeded to explain matters to him . He heard it all ...
Seite 208
Georgia Alexander. " And what will be the price ? " asked Pahom . " We have but one price - a thousand roubles a day . " Pahom did not understand this . " How many dessiatines will that make ? " he asked . " We do not know how to measure ...
Georgia Alexander. " And what will be the price ? " asked Pahom . " We have but one price - a thousand roubles a day . " Pahom did not understand this . " How many dessiatines will that make ? " he asked . " We do not know how to measure ...
Seite 209
... Pahom ap- proached him , asking what he was laughing about , he saw that it was not the Elder , but the merchant who had stopped at his house , and had told him about the land . As he was about to ask him when he had come there , he saw ...
... Pahom ap- proached him , asking what he was laughing about , he saw that it was not the Elder , but the merchant who had stopped at his house , and had told him about the land . As he was about to ask him when he had come there , he saw ...
Seite 210
... Pahom with tea , but he refused and said , " If we are going , it is time we were on our way . ' . The Bashkirs got ready , mounted their horses and started , Pahom with his workman following in his cart . When they arrived at the ...
... Pahom with tea , but he refused and said , " If we are going , it is time we were on our way . ' . The Bashkirs got ready , mounted their horses and started , Pahom with his workman following in his cart . When they arrived at the ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Abridged Andy Antony arms asked Bashkirs battle bells Ben-Hur born Brutus burned Cæsar called Camelot cannon Captain chaise Cranford cried Crito dark dead deck Doctor Don Quixote Ernest eyes father fight fire fleet gave give glory hand hath head hear heard heart Hector honor horse Ichabod Indiana John Halifax JULIUS CÆSAR King knew Lady of Shalott land laughed letter live look Lord Maggie Mark Antony master Master of Ballantrae mother never night noble Pahom Phil Adams Pickwick poet poor postmaster Ralph Waldo Emerson road Robert Louis Stevenson round saddle Second Citizen seemed ship side Sigurd silent Silver simple old soul Squire Stone Face stood story tell thee thing thou thought trees turned versts walk wife wind Winkle word Zoeterwoude
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 53 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Seite 229 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too...
Seite 31 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Seite 166 - Far-called, our navies melt away, On dune and headland sinks the fire; Lo all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre. Judge of the nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.
Seite 32 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At' that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Seite 226 - Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting.place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground.
Seite 303 - Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.
Seite 278 - Caesar lov'd you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad. 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ; For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
Seite 216 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
Seite 309 - ... full many a gem of purest ray serene the dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air. some village Hampden that with dauntless breast the little tyrant of his fields withstood, some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.