Gallegher and Other Stories

Literature & Fiction

Richard Harding, Davis

Contemporary

Native American Books Distributor

Soldiers of Fortune

Thorndike Press

A hundred years ago any trip in an automobile was an adventure… Brave and intrepid motorists of the early 20th Century faced appalling roads, mechanical malady and an often hostile populace as they exercised their exciting new machines. The Scarlet Car, written by Richard Harding Davis in 1907, captures the adventure and uncertainty that was a major part of travel in the early automobile. The period prose in his romantic novelette provides often humorous detail about of the rigors of automotive travel carefully woven through the strands of a classic love story. This edition of The Scarlet Car has been published by Demontreville Press, Inc., to commemorate and recognize the 100th anniversary of the beginning of automotive fiction.

The Scarlet Car

Literary

Demontreville Press, inc.

Somewhere in France

Biographies & Memoirs

Arts & Literature

AL Burt

Excerpt from With Both Armies in South Africa Colenso was on the line until Buller came and fought a battle here - that's how it is with all these way-stations now. Everybody's talking about them. We never took no notice to them. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This 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.

With Both Armies in South Africa (Classic Reprint)

History

Africa

Forgotten Books

The Scarlet Car (Classic Reprint)

Children's Books

In the Fog

Echo Library

Adolfo Rodriguez was the only son of a Cuban farmer, who lived nine miles outside of Santa Clara, beyond the hills that surround that city to the north.When the revolution in Cuba broke out young Rodriguez joined the insurgents, leaving his father and mother and two sisters at the farm. He was taken, in December of 1896, by a force of the Guardia Civile, the corps d'élite of the Spanish army, and defended himself when they tried to capture him, wounding three of them with his machete.He was tried by a military court for bearing arms against the government, and sentenced to be shot by a fusillade some morning before sunrise.Previous to execution he was confined in the military prison of Santa Clara with thirty other insurgents, all of whom were sentenced to be shot, one after the other, on mornings following the execution of Rodriguez.His execution took place the morning of the 19th of January, 1897, at a place a half-mile distant from the city, on the great plain that stretches from the forts out to the hills, beyond which Rodriguez had lived for nineteen years. At the time of his death he was twenty years old.

Notes of a War Correspondent

Createspace

Captain Macklin: His Memoirs

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

He was almost too good to be true. In addition, the gods loved him, and so he had to die young. Some people think that a man of fifty-two is middle-aged. But if R. H. D. had lived to be a hundred, he would never have grown old. It is not generally known that the name of his other brother was Peter Pan. Within the year we have played at pirates together, at the taking of sperm whales; and we have ransacked the Westchester Hills for gunsites against the Mexican invasion. And we have made lists of guns, and medicines, and tinned things, in case we should ever happen to go elephant shooting in Africa. But we weren't going to hurt the elephants. Once R. H. D. shot a hippopotamus and he was always ashamed and sorry. I think he never killed anything else. He wasn't that kind of a sportsman. Of hunting, as of many other things, he has said the last word. Do you remember the Happy Hunting Ground in "The Bar Sinister"?-"Where nobody hunts us, and there is nothing to hunt."

The Red Cross Girl

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Books by Richard Harding, Davis