There are always two ways of
looking at a thing, frequently
there are six or seven; but two ways
of looking at a London fog are quite
enough. When it is thick and yellow
in the streets and stings a man's
throat and lungs as he breathes it, an
awakening in the early morning is
either an unearth ...
On a wintry morning at the close of 1690, the sun shining faint and
red through a light fog, there was a great noise of baying dogs,
loud voices, and trampling of horses in the court-yard at Wildairs
Hall; Sir Jeoffry being about to go forth a-hunting, and being a man
with a choleric temper and ...
Cedric himself knew nothing whatever about it. It had never been
even mentioned to him. He knew that his papa had been an
Englishman, because his mamma had told him so; but then his papa
had died when he was so little a boy that he could not remember
very much about him, except that he was bi ...
Once on a dark winter's day, when the yellow fog hung so thick
and heavy in the streets of London that the lamps were lighted
and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night, an odd-
looking little girl sat in a cab with her father and was driven
rather slowly through the big thoroughf ...
There are many dreary and dingy rows of ugly houses in certain
parts of London, but there certainly could not be any row more
ugly or dingier than Philibert Place. There were stories that it
had once been more attractive, but that had been so long ago that
no one remembered the time. It stood ...
When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor
to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most
disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too.
She had a little thin face and a little thin body,
thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow,
and her face was yello ...
No man knew when the Shuttle began its slow and
heavy weaving from shore to shore, that it was held
and guided by the great hand of Fate. Fate alone
saw the meaning of the web it wove, the might of it, and
its place in the making of a world's history. Men thought
but little of either web or w ...
The boys at the Brooklyn public school which he attended did not know
what the "T." stood for. He would never tell them. All he said in
reply to questions was: "It don't stand for nothin'. You've gotter
have a' 'nitial, ain't you?" His name was, in fact, an almost
inevitable ...
Perhaps the things which happened could
only have happened to me. I do not
know. I never heard of things like them
happening to any one else. But I am not sorry
they did happen. I am in secret deeply and
strangely glad. I have heard other people say
things--and they were not always sad peo ...