Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Nothing to Eat by Jr. Horatio Alger and Thomas Chandler Haliburton (buy e reader TXT) 📖
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Book online «Nothing to Eat by Jr. Horatio Alger and Thomas Chandler Haliburton (buy e reader TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger and Thomas Chandler Haliburton
He Discourseth of a Common Prayer.
Yet look at the thousands whose every day prayer,
Far more than their own or their neighbor's salvation,
Absorbs every thought, every dream, and all care,
“To eat or to wear, is anything new in creation?”
He Discourseth of Trouble and Sorrow. What else do they live for? They live but for this; And nothing but this ever troubles their thinking; Rich eating, rich dressing, and flirting's their bliss, And life's better purposes constantly blinking. Their life's but a tissue of trouble and sorrow Of what is the fashion or will be to-morrow.
He Moralizeth upon what a Day may Bring forth. “To-morrow!” who'll warrant to-morrow we'll see? Who'll care the next day or day after for dinner? Or what the next fashion of new dress will be? Or who Mrs. Grundy will say is the winner? Having reached Thirtysixthly, the Author is about to Make the “Application,” and Pray forgiveness, but concludes by remaining Incog. “Who'll care for, to-morrow, for this bit of scandal, With malice prepense that a cynic has written? (That's what they will say when the poem they handle, Who feel 'tis themselves whom the mad dog has bitten; And wish he was treated as dogs with the rabies Are treated, to stop his unmannerly bark; Or packed off to bed as you do naughty babies, To sleep, or be frightened all alone in the dark.) Who'll care? why the author of this ugly poem— He'll care—for a reason—that all of you read it— He'll care for the cash you'll give—Oh! how he needs it— (Oh! what would you give, ladies dear, just to know him?—) But that, by your leave, by the aid of the elf The printer employs, he will keep to himself. He knows, if you knew him, what fate he would meet; At every table you'd give him—nothing to eat. Excuse then, dear ladies, the author his shyness, And accept his conge at the end of this FINIS.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nothing to Eat, by Horatio Alger and Thomas Chandler Haliburton
He Discourseth of Trouble and Sorrow. What else do they live for? They live but for this; And nothing but this ever troubles their thinking; Rich eating, rich dressing, and flirting's their bliss, And life's better purposes constantly blinking. Their life's but a tissue of trouble and sorrow Of what is the fashion or will be to-morrow.
He Moralizeth upon what a Day may Bring forth. “To-morrow!” who'll warrant to-morrow we'll see? Who'll care the next day or day after for dinner? Or what the next fashion of new dress will be? Or who Mrs. Grundy will say is the winner? Having reached Thirtysixthly, the Author is about to Make the “Application,” and Pray forgiveness, but concludes by remaining Incog. “Who'll care for, to-morrow, for this bit of scandal, With malice prepense that a cynic has written? (That's what they will say when the poem they handle, Who feel 'tis themselves whom the mad dog has bitten; And wish he was treated as dogs with the rabies Are treated, to stop his unmannerly bark; Or packed off to bed as you do naughty babies, To sleep, or be frightened all alone in the dark.) Who'll care? why the author of this ugly poem— He'll care—for a reason—that all of you read it— He'll care for the cash you'll give—Oh! how he needs it— (Oh! what would you give, ladies dear, just to know him?—) But that, by your leave, by the aid of the elf The printer employs, he will keep to himself. He knows, if you knew him, what fate he would meet; At every table you'd give him—nothing to eat. Excuse then, dear ladies, the author his shyness, And accept his conge at the end of this FINIS.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nothing to Eat, by Horatio Alger and Thomas Chandler Haliburton
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