Books with author Roberts Charles G. D. Sir

Excerpt from Around the Camp-FireEdmundston, where the Madawaska flows into the St. John at a point about one hundred and fifty miles above Fredericton.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 early work by Charles G. D. Roberts was originally published in 1916 and we are now republishing it with a brand new introductory biography. 'The Secret Trails' is a novel by this prolific author of fiction and poetry. Charles G. D. Roberts was born on 10th January 1860, in Douglas, New Brunswick, Canada. Roberts's most successful literary genre was that of the animal story which featured in works such as Earth's Enigmas (1896) and Eyes of the Wilderness (1933). He also wrote romance novels and several non-fiction works on Canada.

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.

Excerpt from Around the Camp-FireEdmundston, where the Madawaska flows into the St. John at a point about one hundred and fifty miles above Fredericton.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 early work by Charles G. D. Roberts was originally published in 1898 and we are now republishing it with a brand new introductory biography. 'A Sister to Evangeline' is a novel by this prolific author of fiction and poetry. Charles G. D. Roberts was born on 10th January 1860, in Douglas, New Brunswick, Canada. Roberts's most successful literary genre was that of the animal story which featured in works such as Earth's Enigmas (1896) and Eyes of the Wilderness (1933). He also wrote romance novels and several non-fiction works on Canada.

UPON the moonlit stillness came suddenly a far-off, muffled, crashing sound. Just onceit came, then once again the stillness of the wilderness night, the stillness of vast,untraversed solitude. The Boy lifted his eyes and glanced across the thin reek of thecamp-fire at Jabe Smith, who sat smoking contemplatively. Answering the glance, thewoodsman muttered “old tree fallin’,” and resumed his passive contemplation of thesticks glowing keenly in the fire. The Boy, upon whom, as soon as he entered thewilderness, the taciturnity of the woodsfolk descended as a garment, said nothing,but scanned his companion’s gaunt face with a gravely incredulous smile.So wide-spread and supreme was the silence that 2 five seconds after that singlestrange sound had died out it seemed, somehow, impossible to believe it had everbeen. The light gurgle of the shallow and shrunken brook which ran past the open frontof the travellers’ “lean-to” served only to measure the stillness. Both Jabe and the Boy,since eating their dinner, had gradually forgotten to talk. As the moon rose over the low,fir-crested hills they had sunk into reverie, watching the camp-fire die down.At last, with a sort of crisp whisper a stick, burnt through the middle, fell apart, and aflicker of red flame leaped up. The woodsman knocked out his pipe, rose slowly to hisfeet, stretched his gaunt length, and murmured, “Reckon we might as well turn in.”“That’s all right for you, Jabe,” answered the Boy, rising also, tightening his belt, andreaching for his rifle, “but I’m going off to see what I can see. Night’s the time to seethings in the woods.”Jabe grunted non-committally, and began spreading his blanket in the lean-to. “Don’tforgit to come back for breakfast, that’s all,” he muttered. He regarded the Boy as aphenomenally brilliant hunter and trapper spoiled by sentimental notions.3To the Boy, whose interest in all pertaining to woodcraft was much broader and moresympathetic than that of his companion, Jabe’s interpretation of the sound of the fallingtree had seemed hasty and shallow. He knew that there was no better all-roundwoodsman in these countries than Jabe Smith; but he knew also that Jabe’s interest inthe craft was limited pretty strictly to his activities as hunter, trapper and lumberman.Just now he was all lumberman. He was acting as what is called a “timber-cruiser,”roaming the remoter and less-known regions of the wilderness to locate the bestgrowths of spruce and pine for the winter’s lumbering operations, and for the present hiskeen faculties were set on the noting of tree growths, and water-courses, and the lay ofthe land for the getting out of a winter’s cutting. On this particular cruise the Boy––who,for all the disparity in their years and the divergence in their views, was his most valuedcomrade––had accompanied him with a special object in view.

To the Boy, whose interest in all pertaining to woodcraft was much broader and more sympathetic than that of his companion, Jabe’s interpretation of the sound of the falling tree had seemed hasty and shallow. He knew that there was no better all-round woodsman in these countries than Jabe Smith; but he knew also that Jabe’s interest in the craft was limited pretty strictly to his activities as hunter, trapper and lumberman. Just now he was all lumberman. He was acting as what is called a “timber-cruiser,” roaming the remoter and less-known regions of the wilderness to locate the best growths of spruce and pine for the winter’s lumbering operations, and for the present his keen faculties were set on the noting of tree growths, and water-courses, and the lay of the land for the getting out of a winter’s cutting. On this particular cruise the Boy––who, for all the disparity in their years and the divergence in their views, was his most valued comrade––had accompanied him with a special object in view.

Excerpt from A Sister to Evangeline: Being the Story of Yvonne De Lamourie, and How She Went Into Exile With the Villagers of Grand PréThough it was now two years since I had seen the gables and apple-trees of Grand Pré, I was in no haste to descend into the village. There came a sudden sinking at my heart, as my heart in quired, with unseasonable pertinence, by what right I continued to call Grand Pré home? The thought was new to me; and that I might fairly consider it I seated myself upon the broad stump of a birch-tree, felled the preceding winter.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.