The Strollers
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Оглавление
Isham Frederic Stewart. The Strollers
PROLOGUE. THE MARQUIS’ HONEYMOON
BOOK I. ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS
CHAPTER I. THE TRAVELERS’ FRIEND
CHAPTER II. A NEW ARRIVAL
CHAPTER III. AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE
CHAPTER IV “GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!”
CHAPTER V. A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN
CHAPTER VI. THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT
CHAPTER VII. SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA
CHAPTER VIII. FLIPPING THE SHILLING
CHAPTER IX. SAMPLING THE VINTAGES
CHAPTER X. SEALING THE COMPACT
CHAPTER XI. THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER
CHAPTER XII. AN ECCENTRIC JAILER
CHAPTER XIII. THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER
CHAPTER XIV. THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR
CHAPTER XV. A HASTY EXIT
CHAPTER XVI. THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP
CHAPTER XVII. THE HAND FERRY
BOOK II. DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES
CHAPTER I. THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS
CHAPTER II “ONLY AN INCIDENT”
CHAPTER III. AT THE RACES
CHAPTER IV. LEAR AND JULIET
CHAPTER V. THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS
CHAPTER VI. A BLOT IN THE ’SCUTCHEON
CHAPTER VII. A CYNICAL BARD
CHAPTER VIII. THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE
CHAPTER IX. A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY
CHAPTER X. LAUGHTER AND TEARS
CHAPTER XI. THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN
CHAPTER XII. IN THE OLD CEMETERY
CHAPTER XIII. AN INCONGRUOUS RÔLE
BOOK III. THE FINAL CUE
CHAPTER I. OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD
CHAPTER II. ONLY A SHADOW
CHAPTER III. FROM GARRET TO GARDEN
CHAPTER IV “THE BEST OF LIFE”
CHAPTER V. THE LAWYER’S TIDINGS
CHAPTER VI. THE COUNCIL OF WAR
CHAPTER VII. A MEETING ON THE MOUNT
CHAPTER VIII. A FAIR PENITENT
CHAPTER IX “COMUS’ MISTICK WITCHERIES”
CHAPTER X. CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER
Отрывок из книги
It was a drizzly day in the Shadengo Valley. A mist had settled down upon the old inn; lost to view was the landscape with its varied foliage. Only the immediate foreground was visible to a teamster who came down the road–the trees with dripping branches, and the inn from the eaves of which water fell to the ground with depressing monotony; the well with its pail for watering the horses and the log trough in whose limpid waters a number of speckled trout were swimming. The driver drew up his horses before the Travelers’ Friend–as the place was named–and called out imperatively:
“Hullo there!”
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and the well-pleased audience were preparing to leave when Barnes, in a drab jacket and trunks, trimmed with green ribbon bows, came forward like the clown in the circus and addressed the “good people.”
“In the golden age,” said the father of Juliana, “great men treated actors like servants, and, if they offended, their ears were cut off. Are we, in brave America, returning to the days when they tossed an actor in a blanket or gave a poet a hiding? Shall we stifle an art which is the purest inspiration of Athenian genius? The law prohibits our performing and charging admission, but it does not debar us from taking a collection, if”–with a bow in which dignity and humility were admirably mingled–“you deem the laborer worthy of his hire?”
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