ADVENTURE books online

Reading books adventure Nowadays a big variety of genres are exist. In our electronic library you can choose any book that suits your mood, request and purpose. This website is full of free ebooks. Reading online is very popular and become mainstream. This website can provoke you to be smarter than anyone. You can read between work breaks, in public transport, in cafes over a cup of coffee and cheesecake.
No matter where, but it’s important to read books in our elibrary , without registration.



Today let's analyze the genre adventure. Genre adventure is a reference book for adults and children. But it serve for adults and children in different purposes. If a boy or girl presents himself as a brave and courageous hero, doing noble deeds, then an adult with pleasure can be a little distracted from their daily worries.


A great interest to the reader is the adventure of a historical nature. For example, question: «Who discovered America?»
Today there are quite interesting descriptions of the adventures of Portuguese sailors, who visited this continent 20 years before Columbus.




It should be noted the different quality of literary works created in the genre of adventure. There is an understandable interest of generations of people in the classic adventure. At the same time, new works, which are created by contemporary authors, make classic works in the adventure genre quite worthy competition.
The close attention of readers to the genre of adventure is explained by the very essence of man, which involves constant movement, striving for something new, struggle and achievement of success. Adventure genre is very excited
Heroes of adventure books are always strong and brave. And we, off course, want to be like them. Unfortunately, book life is very different from real life.But that doesn't stop us from loving books even more.

Read books online » Adventure » The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas (web based ebook reader .TXT) 📖

Book online «The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas (web based ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author Alexandre Dumas



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so long as one can find a better.”

“Then I will never write anything again save in prose,” said La Fontaine, who had taken up Pelisson’s reproach in earnest. “Ah! I often suspected I was nothing but a rascally poet! Yes, ‘tis the very truth.”

“Do not say so; your remark is too sweeping, and there is much that is good in your ‘Fables.’”

“And to begin,” continued La Fontaine, following up his idea, “I will go and burn a hundred verses I have just made.”

“Where are your verses?”

“In my head.”

“Well, if they are in your head you cannot burn them.”

“True,” said La Fontaine; “but if I do not burn them—”

“Well, what will happen if you do not burn them?”

“They will remain in my mind, and I shall never forget them!”

“The deuce!” cried Loret; “what a dangerous thing! One would go mad with it!”

“The deuce! the deuce!” repeated La Fontaine; “what can I do?”

“I have discovered the way,” said Moliere, who had entered just at this point of the conversation.

“What way?”

“Write them first and burn them afterwards.”

“How simple! Well, I should never have discovered that. What a mind that devil of a Moliere has!” said La Fontaine. Then, striking his forehead, “Oh, thou wilt never be aught but an ass, Jean La Fontaine!” he added.

What are you saying there, my friend?” broke in Moliere, approaching the poet, whose aside he had heard.

“I say I shall never be aught but an ass,” answered La Fontaine, with a heavy sigh and swimming eyes. “Yes, my friend,” he added, with increasing grief, “it seems that I rhyme in a slovenly manner.”

“Oh, ‘tis wrong to say so.”

“Nay, I am a poor creature!”

“Who said so?”

Parbleu! ‘twas Pelisson; did you not, Pelisson?”

Pelisson, again absorbed in his work, took good care not to answer.

“But if Pelisson said you were so,” cried Moliere, “Pelisson has seriously offended you.”

“Do you think so?”

“Ah! I advise you, as you are a gentleman, not to leave an insult like that unpunished.”

What!” exclaimed La Fontaine.

“Did you ever fight?”

“Once only, with a lieutenant in the light horse.”

“What wrong had he done you?”

“It seems he ran away with my wife.”

“Ah, ah!” said Moliere, becoming slightly pale; but as, at La Fontaine’s declaration, the others had turned round, Moliere kept upon his lips the rallying smile which had so nearly died away, and continuing to make La Fontaine speak—

“And what was the result of the duel?”

“The result was, that on the ground my opponent disarmed me, and then made an apology, promising never again to set foot in my house.”

“And you considered yourself satisfied?” said Moliere.

“Not at all! on the contrary, I picked up my sword. ‘I beg your pardon, monsieur,’ I said, ‘I have not fought you because you were my wife’s friend, but because I was told I ought to fight. So, as I have never known any peace save since you made her acquaintance, do me the pleasure to continue your visits as heretofore, or morbleu! let us set to again.’ And so,” continued La Fontaine, “he was compelled to resume his friendship with madame, and I continue to be the happiest of husbands.”

All burst out laughing. Moliere alone passed his hand across his eyes. Why? Perhaps to wipe away a tear, perhaps to smother a sigh. Alas! we know that Moliere was a moralist, but he was not a philosopher. “‘Tis all one,” he said, returning to the topic of the conversation, “Pelisson has insulted you.”

“Ah, truly! I had already forgotten it.”

“And I am going to challenge him on your behalf.”

“Well, you can do so, if you think it indispensable.”

“I do think it indispensable, and I am going to—”

“Stay,” exclaimed La Fontaine, “I want your advice.”

“Upon what? this insult?”

“No; tell me really now whether lumiere does not rhyme with orniere.”

“I should make them rhyme.”

“Ah! I knew you would.”

“And I have made a hundred thousand such rhymes in my time.”

“A hundred thousand!” cried La Fontaine. “Four times as many as ‘La Pucelle,’ which M. Chaplain is meditating. Is it also on this subject, too, that you have composed a hundred thousand verses?”

“Listen to me, you eternally absent-minded creature,” said Moliere.

“It is certain,” continued La Fontaine, “that legume, for instance, rhymes with posthume.”

“In the plural, above all.”

“Yes, above all in the plural, seeing that then it rhymes not with three letters, but with four; as orniere does with lumiere.”

“But give me ornieres and lumieres in the plural, my dear Pelisson,” said La Fontaine, clapping his hand on the shoulder of his friend, whose insult he had quite forgotten, “and they will rhyme.”

“Hem!” coughed Pelisson.

“Moliere says so, and Moliere is a judge of such things; he declares he has himself made a hundred thousand verses.”

“Come,” said Moliere, laughing, “he is off now.”

“It is like rivage, which rhymes admirably with herbage. I would take my oath of it.”

“But—” said Moliere.

“I tell you all this,” continued La Fontaine, “because you are preparing a divertissement for Vaux, are you not?”

“Yes, the ‘Facheux.’”

“Ah, yes, the ‘Facheux;’ yes, I recollect. Well, I was thinking a prologue would admirably suit your divertissement.”

“Doubtless it would suit capitally.”

“Ah! you are of my opinion?”

“So much so, that I have asked you to write this very prologue.”

“You

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