Books with author William Henry Wills

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

A CABIN. A cabin in the woods. In the cabin a great fire place piled high with logs, fiercely ablaze. On either side of the broad hearthstone a hound sat on his haunches, looking gravely, as only a hound in a meditative mood can, into the glowing fire. In the center of the cabin, whose every nook and corner was bright with the ruddy firelight, stood a wooden table, strongly built and solid. At the table sat John Norton, poring over a book, a book large of size, with wooden covers bound in leather, brown with age, and smooth as with the handling of many generations. The whitened head of the old man was bowed over the broad page, on which one hand rested, with the forefinger marking the sentence. A cabin in the woods filled with firelight, a table, a book, an old man studying the book. This was the scene on Christmas Eve. Outside, the earth was white with snow, and in the blue sky above the snow was the white moon.

"The autobiography of the author of 'Green Mansions,' 'The Purple Land' and 'Adventures Among Birds' is all that one could ask it to be. For this writer's childhood and youth were spent on the pampas of South America, so colorfully painted in his later essays and stories. He writes of the varied aspects of the plain; of the romantic and picturesque figures, landowners and cattle breeders, who were neighbors; of the first visit to Buenos Ayres; of the springtime that comes in August; and, above all, of his childish love for birds. The biography carries him through first youth to the edge of manhood, but it is particularly rich in its recollection of early childhood, from the fifth to the seventh years." -Book Review Digest "Mr. Hudson's account of his early years is in many ways like a mixture of a Conrad novel and Robinson Crusoe. His small boy's eyes were the eyes of an explorer. Most books of reminiscences are for old people. This book of Mr. Hudson's is equally for the young." -Anthaneum "Seldom are youthful reminiscences recounted with greater dignity, beauty and vividness. The adventures of the spirit, too, are no less vivid than the daily life with his brothers, and the sympathy between mother and son is tenderly portrayed." -The Nation "A biography which can scarcely fail to become a classic of self-revelation. The tale is told with the art which is so much instinct that it appears mere effortless ease." -Margaret Ashmun in The Bookman "In 'Far Away and Long Ago' he has written a book that takes it place at once among the classics of autobiography." -Edwin Francis Edgett in the Boston Transcript "The book deserves a place on any shelf of biography alongside 'The Story of My Heart' by the English naturalist, Richard Jefferies." -Outlook "Mr. Hudson's method of describing his loved birds is singularly like that of Fabre with his insects. The same friendly simplicity is seen in both; Mr. Hudson, like Fabre, seems to take the reader by the hand and lead him into the midst of his discoveries." -Marguerite Fellows in the Publishers Weekly "One is reluctant to apply to Mr. Hudson's book those terms of praise which are bestowed upon literary and artistic merit, though needless to say it possesses both. One does not want to recommend it as a book so much as to greet it as a person, and not the clipped and imperfect person of ordinary autobiography, but the whole and complete person whom we meet rarely enough in life or in literature." -London Times Literary Supplement "Anybody who is not already in the middle of a book ought to lose no time in beginning on W. H. Hudson's 'Far Away and Long Ago.' Anybody who is in the middle of a book ought to let it wait until he too has read this most enticing autobiography about childhood, Argentine, ostriches, and South American cowboys." -Heywood Broun

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

HINTS TO HORSE-KEEPERS.CHAPTER I.HOW TO BREED A HORSE CHOICE OF STALLION.To enter into an argument at this day of the nineteenth century, to show that the horse stock of any country is a material item in the account of the national wealth, strength and greatness, would be to admit the arguer himself an ass, or at least to show that he believed himself to be addressing an audience of asses. In no country in the world, perhaps, is such an argument less needed than in our own, where, certainly, the keeping of horses for the purposes of pleasure as well as of utility is more largely disseminated among persons of all classes than in any other, and where the desire and ability both to keep and breed horses of a high grade is - daily gaining ground, both in town and country. Among farmers the desire to raise valuable stock is, at least, increasing proportionally to the increase of the profit to be derived from them, which isadvancing every day not in consequence of any casual or temporary caprice, but is attributable to the growing perception of the fact, among all horse-keepers, that it is not only as cheap, if one keeps a horse at all, to keep a good as to keep a bad one, but in reality much cheaper. The prime cost is the only difference to be considered: the price of stable-room, keep and care is identical; the wear and tear is infinitely less in the sound, able, useful animal than in the broken-down jade; the work which can be done and the value earned by the one is in no possible relation to those by the other; while, to conclude, the cash value of the superior animal, judiciously worked,—and by judiciously is meant profitably to the owner, as well as moderately and mercifully to the beast,—and properly tended, is actually increasing annually at a greater rate than that at which the inferior animal is deteriorating.In other words, a four-year-old horse, well bought at a price of two or three hundred dollars or upward, will, when he has attained the age of seven or eight years, after having earned his meat and paid the interest of his prime cost by his services, be worth twice the money, either for working purposes or for sale, if the owner see fit to dispose of him; while an animal bought for half or a third of that price, at the same age, will probably, at the same increased age, be wholly worn out, valueless and useless; and the greater the excellence of the animal in the first instance, the greater and more rapid will be the increase in value ; the lower his qualities, to begin, the speedier and more complete the deterioration.Now, as to what constitutes value or excellence in all horses.—It is indisputably quickness of working; power to move or carry weight, and ability to endure for a length of time; to travel for a distance with the least decreaseof pace ; to come again to work day after day, week after week, and year after year, with undiminished vigor. And it is scarcely needful to say that, under all ordinary circumstances these conditions are only compatible with the highest form and highest physical health of the anim al. Malformation must necessarily detract from speed and power; hereditary disease or constitutional derangement must necessarily detract from all powers whatsoever. Under usual circumstances it would hardly be necessary to undertake to show that quickness of working, or, in other words, speed, is necessary to a high degree of excellence in a horse of any stamp or style, and not one iota less for the animal which draws the load or breaks the glebe, than for the riding horse or the pleasure traveller before light vehicles. But it has of late become the fashion with some parties to undervalue the advantages of speed, and to deny its utility for

Originally published in 1950, No Survivors was the first of Will Henry’s many novels based on historic incident. In it he shows what General Custer’s lonely stand and final moments at the 1876 Battle of the Little Bighorn might have been like, militarily and emotionally. Though the history books say that only the horse Comanche escaped alive, Will Henry creates one other survivor, Colonel John Clayton—and he was doomed, too. The fictional Civil War officer who once saved Custer’s life, Clayton leaves a journal describing his later career on the western frontier. As a civilian scout for the U.S. Army, he tries to head off the Fetterman Massacre. He is captured by Crazy Horse and taken into the Oglala Sioux tribe. For nine years he lives as an Indian—the adopted son of Crazy Horse, an intimate of Sitting Bull, and the husband of a medicine woman. He rides with the Indians against the white invaders, but by 1876 he has to make a choice about who he really is.

The Secret Memoirs of Bertha Krupp by Henry W. FischerOn a bright August day of 1902 the neighbourhood of Villa Huegel, overlooking the forest of smoke-stacks, cranes, masts and other erections that silhouette the town of Essen, was like an armed camp. Its master, Frederick Krupp, cannon king and war promoter, while not entitled to household troops, has an army of firemen as large as the contingent of the mighty potentate of Reuss-Greiz-Schleiz-Lobenstein, and this was pre-eminently the season and hour of military display.The Krupp warriors resemble Prussian infantry in dress. In discipline and aggressiveness they are second to none serving under the eye of the "All Highest," as the Kaiser fondly calls himself. Give their master a dark look as he passes, and one or more of them will pounce upon you and pound you to jelly before you can say Jack Robinson; reach for your handkerchief or pencil in your back trouser-pocket, where a revolver might be, and they will spit you on their fire-axe.To-day Krupp firemen were everywhere. They lined the roads, guarded crossings and bridges, looked up at every window, sentinelled gates and doors. They were posted, too, in the tree-tops and on telegraph and signal posts, while indoors, along the corridors of the villa, you met them at every turn. Right royal arrangement that! Yet why at Huegel?On this particular day Essen was alive with colour. Hussars in green and silver—the Düsseldorf brand—galloping round and round the villa circuit, kept their eyes keenly alert for suspicious characters; in Essen, indeed, every stranger is looked upon as a double-crossed suspect. Dragoons were there, too, from East Prussia, to watch the hussars, for one never knows, you know. And, of course, there were bodyguards—white tunic and breeches, black cuirass and silver helmet, surmounted by the "bird of poisonous glare," as Heine described the Imperial eagle. Many other uniforms, too—uhlans, chasseurs, mounted infantry for the War Lord likes to strut abroad to the tune and clank of a variety of arms. He would have horse marines if he were not so deadly afraid of Mr. Punch.Bertha Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach (29 March 1886 – 21 September 1957), born Bertha Krupp and commonly known by this name, was a member of the Krupp family, Germany's leading industrial dynasty of the 19th and 20th centuries. As the elder child and heir of Friedrich Alfred Krupp she was the sole proprietor of the Krupp industrial empire from 1902 to 1943, although her husband, Gustav Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach, ran the company in her name. In 1943 she transferred ownership of the company to her son, Alfried Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach.

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.