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Category： Author：novel
Little Bear cried, "Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!" He cried so hard that his tears fell into his bowl of bread and milk. The tears made the milk taste salty! "What is the matter?" asked Papa Bear.Little Bear did not say a word, he only cried, "Boo-hoo!"
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Category： Author：Captain Frederick Marryat
Gentle reader, I was born upon the water—not upon the salt and angry ocean, but upon the fresh and rapid-flowing river. It was in a floating sort of box, called a lighter, and upon the river Thames, at low water, when I first smelt the mud.
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Category： Author：novel
John Ward, God Helper, hung in his chair like a damp, empty uniform. An open, four-foot port showed a circle of blazing blue sky and a regular glimpse of a high, curving topsail. The humid, hot salty flavor of a strange sea blanketed the cabin, and sparked a sudden thought: "What the hell am I doing here?"
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Category： Author：Robert Michael Ballantyne
On a certain summer morning, about the middle of the present century, a big bluff man, of seafaring aspect, found himself sauntering in a certain street near London Bridge. He was a man of above fifty, but looked under forty in consequence of the healthful vigour of his frame, the freshness of his saltwater face, and the blackness of h...
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Category： Author：novel
Adam Salton sauntered into the Empire Club, Sydney, and found awaiting him a letter from his grand-uncle. He had first heard from the old gentleman less than a year before, when Richard Salton had claimed kinship, stating that he had been unable to write earlier, as he had found it very difficult to trace his grand-nephew’s...
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Category： Author：novel
It had rained that April more continuously than capriciously, but this morning April showed at last her fairer face. The sunshine held as yet no sense of heat, only the bracingness of a glad salt wave. Across the spacious blue of the Essex sky clouds floated and met and parted in a restful restlessness.
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Category： Author：novel
Two big willow-trees guarded the entrance to Captain Saulsby’s place, willow-trees with such huge, rough trunks and such thick, gnarled branches that they might almost have been oaks. For fifty years they had bent and rocked before the furious winter storms, had bowed their heads to the showers of salt spray and had trembled under the ...
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Category： Author：novel
IT WAS clearly a runaway match—never indeed was such a sublime elopement. The four horses were coal-black, with blood-red manes and tails; and they were shod with rubies. They were harnessed to a basaltic car by a single rein of flame. Waving his double-pronged trident in the air, the god struck the blue breast of Cyane, and the water...
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Category： Author：novel
ONE BEAUTIFUL morning in early June in the year nineteen hundred and forty-eight a motorist was driving slowly along a lonely and rough road that wound between the salt marshes and the sea in the extreme north of the countryside of Norfolk. With his gun handy upon the seat beside him, he was hoping to get a shot at something, a duck, a...
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Category： Author：novel
Paul Bourget was born in the cathedral city of Amiens about fifty years ago, but there are a number of other interesting things to say about him. Like so many famous authors, he began, in 1873, with verse. Probably the verse did not bring him the instant fame that we all desire with our first book, for he soon turned to prose, which of...
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