Books with author Ida M Tarbell

Excerpt: ...of the press were publishing; the Woman's Club had engaged a lecturer to tell it what he knew of Serbia; a subscription had been started, and in the alley on the South Side Jimmy Flannigan's goat had been harnessed to Benny Katz' two-wheeled cart, and Reuben Cowder, coming through as usual, found the gang in white paper caps, marked with a crayon red cross, receiving Nick Brown who, limp and groaning, was impersonating Nikola Petrovitch s first appearance at the Valievo sanitarium. Here again it was Jimmy Flannigan's big brother who, listening to Patsy at high school, had inspired the play. The keenest interest was taken in Reuben Cowder's trip—for of course he was going. He was settling things for as long an absence as necessary, doing it feverishly, joyfully—he who had always stuck night and day at his post and grumbled at every business trip that he could not escape. He would be ready to start as soon as the cablegram came; Nancy had said early in October. But October came. The first week passed—and no cablegram. The second week, and none. And then there fell on Reuben Cowder with crushing force the news of the second invasion of Serbia. From north and west came the Austro-Hungarians—from the west the Bulgars—hordes of them. This time there was to be no mistake. Serbia was not merely to be conquered; she was to be crushed, and the remnants swept into the sea. The suddenness, the mass, the extent of the attack, left no doubt in Reuben Cowder's mind that whatever Serbia's fate might be—and that was as nothing to him—Nancy had been trapped. Unless she had reached Salonika before the advance, she'd have hardly a shadow of a chance. And he told himself, too, that if she saw need, she would not leave…

Excerpt from In Lincoln's ChairColn's chair, a seat too revered for any body to stand on two legs. It was a snowy blustery day and the talk had run on uninterruptedly from the weather to the campaign. (the year was 1896, and Billy, being a gold Democrat, was gloomy over politics.) We had finally arrived.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Father AbrahamMr. Lincoln took so much interest in all them little things, but I said: Don't you worry, Mr. Swett, Mr. Lincoln's got the right i'dee. An army that don't have its belly and feet taken care of ain't goin' to do much fightin', and Mr. Lincoln's got sense enough to know it. He knows diar rhea's a blamed sight more dangerous to the Army of the Potomac than Stonewall Jackson. Trouble so far has been, in my judgment, that the people that ought to have been seein' to what the soldiers was eatin' and drinkin' and whether their beds was dry and their bowels movin', was spendin' their time polishin' their buttons and shinin' their boots for parade.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

This book, "He knew Lincoln", by Tarbell, Ida M. (Ida Minerva), 1857-1944, is a replication of a book originally published before 1909. It has been restored by human beings, page by page, so that you may enjoy it in a form as close to the original as possible. This book was created using print-on-demand technology. Thank you for supporting classic literature.