"I am so afraid Nance will be changed," sighed Molly as she put the finishing touches to the room her old friend was to occupy. "I'll wager anything she is the same old Nance Oldham," insisted Professor Green, obediently mounting the ladder to hang the last snowy curtain at the broad, deep window in the guest chamber overlooking the campus. "I think she is the kind of girl who will always be the same. Is that straight?"

My first impression of Willoughby Beach gave me keen disappointment. It was so sandy, so flat, and so absolutely shadeless. I longed for the green hills far away and in my heart felt I could not stand a month of the lonesome stretches of sand and the pitiless glare of the summer sun. It took great self-control and some histrionic ability for me to conceal my emotions from my enthusiastic hostesses.

"I don't believe a word of it " "But, Helen, the doctor ought to know." "Of course he ought to know, but does he know? If doctors agreed among themselves, I'd have more use for them. A poor patient has to submit to having everything the doctors are interested in for the time being. A specialist can always find you suffering with his specialty. Didn't old Dr. Davis treat Father for malaria because he himself, forsooth, happened to be born in the Dismal Swamp, got malaria into his system when he was a baby and never got it out? All his patients must have malaria, too, because Dr. Davis has...

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green. Giverny, France, August, 1914. Dearest old Molly Brown of Kentucky: You can marry a million Professor Edwin Greens, B.A., M.A., Ph.D., L.D. (the last stands for lucky dog), and you can also have a million little Green Olive Branches, but you will still be Molly Brown of Kentucky to all of your old friends.

"How I hate being poor " exclaimed Helen Carter, looking ruefully at her darned glove. "Me, too " echoed the younger sister, Lucy. "Shh Father will hear you," admonished Douglas. "Nobody can hear above the rattle of this horrid old day coach," declared Helen. "There is something about the odor of a common coach that has spent its life hauling commuters from home to work-from work to home, that sickens me," and Helen's sensitive nostrils quivered in disgust. "I'm sorry, dear; I know it is all so hard on you," said Douglas. "Not a bit harder on me than it is on you."

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.