Books published by publisher D. Appleton and C

To summarise this book, let me quote you from its introduction: "Most of you probably look upon science as a bundle of dry facts, while fairy-land is all that is beautiful, and full of poetry and imagination. But I thoroughly believe myself, and hope to prove to you, that science is full of beautiful pictures, of real poetry, and of wonder-working fairies; and what is more, I promise you they shall be true fairies, whom you will love just as much when you are old and grayheaded as when you are young".( Amazon customer) NOT A REPRINT. ORIGINAL BOOK.

The wonder and beauty of the antebellum South comes alive once again in the memory of Eliza Ripley. Born in 1832, Ripley witnessed firsthand the changing South and lamented the loss of elegant Southern balls and wedding traditions, such as having the ceremony in the house's parlor.Having spent most of her childhood in New Orleans, Ripley documents every facet of life in New Orleans and along the river, from spring housekeeping to slave narratives. She recounts past journeys on steamboats, which she calls palatials, and her favorite ship, the Grey Eagle, which featured staterooms and a social hall. She remembers the songs her own mother once sang to her and the simple joy of an old wooden rocking chair.In this memoir, Ripley masterfully creates the New Orleans that existed before the Civil War. Her plain but descriptive language captures the essence of the time and the sweet nostalgia of her memories of a lost era.

"In the Congo your worst fears are never realized. Something that you didn't fear happens instead." --Mary Hastings BradleyMary Hastings Bradley records the events of a 1921 safari with her husband, Herbert Bradley, five-year-old daughter, and her friend, the renowned sculptor and taxidermist Carl Akeley. Akeley was searching for gorilla specimens for the African Hall he was in the process of redesigning for the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. Well into the twentieth century, this largest of primates was more a figure of myth than of natural history. The safari details successful hunting for gorillas, lions, and elephants, as well as providing details of the local country and its inhabitants.Contents: I. Off To Africa II. The West Coast Trip III. The Tourist Trail IV. In The Belgian Congo V. On Safari VI. The Summit Of Africa VII. The Gorilla Trail VIII. The Bio Gorilla Of Kaeisimbi IX. A Gorilla Band X. The Pygmies Come To Camp XI. A Night In A CraterXII. The Three-stone Kitchen XIII. The Lion That Came To Life XIV. Lion Hunting At Night XV. Elephants And Buffalo XVI. Santa In The Jungle XVII. Across Uganda XVIII. The Tomb Of King Mutesa XIX. Good-by To Africa XX. Lists And Equipment, Etc. This book published in 1922 has been reformatted for the Kindle and may contain an occasional defect from the original publication or from the reformatting.

Example in this ebookTHE PROJECTMr. James Nesbit, merchant of Philadelphia, stood leaning against the long, polished desk at the farther end of which two clerks were hard at work copying entries into a ponderous ledger. On Mr. Nesbit’s face there was a look of preoccupation. He drew a deep breath, rapped nervously with his finger on the desk, and, reaching behind his ear, under the folds of his heavy white wig, threw down a large quill pen. Then, taking a big silver snuff-box out of his pocket, he helped himself neatly to a pinch of snuff. Having done this he waited anxiously, as if the expected sneeze might jar his mind into better working order. It seemed to answer, for, after a preliminary rumbling gasp and an explosion, he blew his nose violently, and turning addressed one of the clerks.“If Mr. Conyngham comes during the next few minutes, tell him I shall be at ‘The Old Clock’ coffee-house”, he said.With that he took down a great cloak from one of the wooden pegs that lined the wall and stepped to the door. It was raining torrents, and the gutters were running full. With an agility that was surprising in so heavy a man and one of his years, he gathered the cloak about him, and picking up his heels ran swiftly around the corner. Just as he turned he collided with another man much younger and slightly smaller, who was hurrying in the opposite direction. They grasped each other in order to keep their feet, and at once burst into laughter.“Well met, indeed, David!” cried Mr. Nesbit, even before he had uttered a word of apology, “but you’ve well-nigh knocked the breath out of me.”“And me also,” responded the smaller man. “You charged around the corner like a squadron of horse. Why such a hurry, sir?”“A short explanation,” was the answer, “’tis past my meal hour, and I had waited for you till I could stand it no longer. Years ago, methinks, I must have swallowed a wolf, and at feeding hours he’s wont to grow rapacious and must be satisfied. Come, here we are at ‘The Old Clock.’ In with us out of the rain and we’ll satisfy the ravenous one.”As he was speaking Mr. Nesbit almost pushed his friend ahead of him through a doorway and entered the grill-room of the tavern. A mingled odor of roast beef, ale, and tobacco smoke saluted their nostrils, and the proprietor, his wide waistcoat covered by a gleaming new apron, greeted them cheerfully.“A wet day, gentlemen,” he observed, “but good weather for the farmers.”“And for ducks and geese and all such,” interjected Mr. Nesbit, “but I would have you observe, Mr. Turner, that I am a dry-goods merchant and wish the bad weather would confine itself to the country.”As he spoke he took off his heavy cloak with one hand, and relieved his friend of one almost as large, from which the water was dripping on to the sanded floor. Giving instructions to the landlord that they should both be hung by the fire where they might dry, he turned and glanced about the room, nodding to two or three men who sat at a table in the corner.“No one but our friends here to-day,” he remarked; “we won’t join them, however. Let us sit apart, for there is much I would discuss with thee.”“And there is much I have to say also,” returned the other, “that is not for the general ear. Is the post in?”“Late on account of the roads, I take it,” was the response, “but there will be important news from Boston and New York, I warrant you. But now to feed the wolf! A most inconvenient beast at times, but most easily placated. Ah! there’s a cut of beef for you, and now some of your best mulled ale, Mr. Turner, and thanks to you.”As if he saw that it was useless to begin any conversation until Mr. Nesbit’s personal menagerie was quieted, the smaller man said nothing, and for some minutes the two ate in silence. At last, with a sigh of pleasurable relief, James Nesbit pushed himself back from the table and set down the empty tankard with a bang.To be continue in this eboo

Abbie Deal, the matriarch of a pioneer Nebraska family, has died at the beginning of A White Bird Flying, leaving her china and heavy furniture to others and to her granddaughter Laura the secret of her dream of finer things. Grandma Deal's literary aspirations had been thwarted by the hard circumstances of her life, but Laura vows that nothing, no one, will deter her from a successful writing career. Childhood passes, and the more she repeats her vow the more life intervenes.