Books with author Emma Leslie

This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work.This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ++++ The below data was compiled from various identification fields in the bibliographic record of this title. This data is provided as an additional tool in helping to ensure edition identification: ++++ <title> Out Of The Mouth Of The Lion; Or, The Church In The Catacombs, By The Author Of 'Glaucia, The Greek Slave'.<author> Emma Leslie

A Sailor's Lass CHAPTER I. ONE STORMY NIGHT. "Mother, we're afloat agin." It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke, and the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact of their home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however, was by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during the equinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was lifted from its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for hours, and the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking and straining as though the next gust of wind would certainly carry them out to sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably be swamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at the bottom--had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman took possession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by running up some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks and tarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had been secured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of a mud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river. The ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the old boat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for growing more alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased, until the boat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin began crying and screaming in their fright.

October 4th.—I am going to keep a log. I shall have to do it by-and-by when I am Captain Charles Stewart, and so, as I have been sent to school to prepare for my work in the world by-and-by, this will be helping in the preparation. Mamma often talks about my work in the world, but I am almost sure there is no sea in the world she is thinking about, while to me—well, the sea is all the world to me. But mamma wants me to forget it, and all Uncle Alfred's wonderful stories about it, and that is why I have been sent here to school; but Tom Haslitt is with me, and is not likely to let me forget uncle and his sea yarns. Tom is to be my lieutenant by-and-by, and as he will have to help with the ship's log then, he is to take a turn with this. It was kind of mamma to arrange for Tom and I to have this little bedroom—cabin, I mean—all to ourselves; but I am afraid she would not be pleased to see how we have rigged it up, considering that she wants me to mount Uncle Charles's office stool by-and-by. I hope that tarred yarn Tom has stowed away under the bed don't smell too strong. The compasses and charts and bits of boats we've got hanging about are pretty ornaments, and by-and-by, when we get our ship finished, our little cock-loft will be furnished. I can't say much about the fellows here at present, but they look a very quiet lot, and one with fair hair certainly ought to have it put in curl-papers every night. I shan't have much to say to him, I know; give him a wide berth, and stick close to Tom. If we could only have gone somewhere else, some school where they train sailors, I might learn something, but it will do me no good to come here, I'm sure, and I've told mamma so. October 6th.—The captain says I must help with the log. I'd rather heave up a couple of hammocks here and bundle these bedsteads out of the window, but I suppose we may look out for squalls if we do too much in the nautical line, for Charley has got into a scrape already. What they want to keep housemaids for at a boys' school I can't think, unless it is that they may go poking about where they are not wanted. I'm sure that rope yarn did not smell much, but she found it out, that housemaid did; and when Charley tried to get it back there was a row. The fellows here are not so bad, when you come to know them, but I don't think I shall ever like the governor—the Doctor, as everybody calls him—or the under masters either; although I think we shall be able to do very much as we like here, as we have done at home; at least, Charley and I mean to have our own way in most things, if we possibly can. October 10th.—What a place this is for rows! Everybody looks as mild as turnips, from the governor down to the housemaid that took our yarn. But looks are deceitful, I suppose; at least, Tom and I won't have such a pleasant, easy time as we expected. If things get much worse I shall write and ask mamma to fetch me home; I'm sure she wouldn't let me stop if I didn't like it, for I have always had my own way about everything but this sea scheme, and, like all mothers, she's afraid of the sea, of course—thinks it a monster that will certainly swallow me up.

This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work.This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ++++ The below data was compiled from various identification fields in the bibliographic record of this title. This data is provided as an additional tool in helping to ensure edition identification: ++++ <title> Faithful, But Not Famous, By The Author Of 'Soldier Fritz'.<author> Emma Leslie

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1872 Excerpt: ...about two months after the betrothal; and then all Paris was thrown into a ferment of preparation for the coronation, which was to take place at St. Denis on the fifth of November. Whatever the doctors of the Sorbonne and Louisa of Savoy might feel, they dared not show anything but gladness, although all the hopes centred in Francis might be cut off by this English girl of eighteen. But Francis himself quite forgave his youthful aunt when he saw her, and publicly paid her, and her favourite maid of honour, Lady Anne Boleyn, every attention. The princess Mary's retinue became her state as the King of England's sister and the future Queen of France; but nothing went so far in overcoming the prejudices of the people, as her gentle, modest bearing, which was in striking contrast to that of Louisa of Savoy. The rather free manners of the French court somewhat astonished the English ladies, who found far more congenial companions in the wife and sister of Francis, than in his mother. Froll'o was busy enough preparing for the coming tournament, which was to last over a week, so many French and English knights would enter the lists, and contend for the prizes to be bestowed by Queen Mary and the young Duchess Marguerite. Madame Frollo, too, and Babette, had their share of work in preparing the braveries--sewing on silver lace, and embroidering velvet surcoats with various devices. But this outside work was not suffered to hinder that silent hidden work began by Dr. Lefevre at the Sorbonne, and now going on in so many hearts in Paris. Frollo had given up his indiscriminate gossip, and now he might often be seen in deep and earnest conversation with those he had formerly encouraged in their bold and reckless doubts of the existence of God. He was eagerly looking for ...