pubOne. info present you this new edition. Every Rivermouth boy looks upon the sea as being in some way mixed up with his destiny. While he is yet a baby lying in his cradle, he hears the dull, far-off boom of the breakers; when he is older, he wanders by the sandy shore, watching the waves that come plunging up the beach like white-maned sea-horses, as Thoreau calls them; his eye follows the lessening sail as it fades into the blue horizon, and he burns for the time when he shall stand on the quarter-deck of his own ship, and go sailing proudly across that mysterious waste of waters.
Marjorie Daw (1908). This book, "Marjorie Daw," by Thomas Bailey Aldrich, is a replication of a book originally published before 1908. It has been restored by human beings, page by page, so that you may enjoy it in a form as close to the original as possible.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich attracked a lot of atention in his day with his writing style. An Old Town by the Sea captures the spirit of the Portsmouth, New Hampshire, region at the end of the 19th century, and the illustrations add to the mixture.
Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www. million-books. com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: PLOT AND CHARACTER Henry James, in his paper on Anthony Trol- lope, says that if Trollope had taken sides on the rather superficial opposition between novels of character and novels of plot, I can imagine him to have said (except that he never expressed himself in epigram) that he preferred the former class, inasmuch as character in itself is plot, while plot is by no means character. So neat an antithesis would surely never have found itself between Mr. Trollope's lips if Mr. James had not cunningly lent it to him. Whatever theory of novel-writing Mr. Trollope may have preached, his almost invariable practice was to have a plot. He always had a story to tell, and a story involves beginning, middle, and end?in short, a framework of some description. There have been delightful books filled wholly with character-drawing, but they have not been great novels. The great novel deals with human action as well as with mental portraiture and analysis. That character in itself is plot is true only in a limited sense. A plan, a motive with a logical conclusion, is as necessary toa novel or a romance as it is to a drama. A group of skillfully made-up men and women lounging in the green room or at the wings is not the play. It is not enough to say that this is Romeo and that Lady Macbeth. It is not enough to inform us that certain passions are supposed to be embodied in such and such persons: these persons should be placed in situations developing those passions. A series of unrelated scenes and dialogues leading to nothing is inadequate. Mr. James's engaging epigram seems to me vulnerable at both ends ? unlike Achilles. Plot is by no means character. Strictly speaking, it is not. It appears to me, however, that plot approaches nearer to being character than character does to b. . .