2015, ISBN: 9781331608295

Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressin… Plus…

Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressing. Pioneers, O Pioneers! - Walt Whitman. ´´Are we Americans, or are we not? That´s what I´d like to know,´´ cried June. June´s my sister. She had jumped upon her big Saratoga trunk, and had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the little corporal when he stormed the bridge of Lodi. ´´We are!´´ I cried. ´´Then,´´ said June, ´´where are we going? That´s the next thing I´d like to know. Where are we going to?´´ Now she had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the stump speaker in the minstrel band. ´´Why, of course we´ll go to Europe,´´ I said. ´´Breathes there an American with soul so dead as to stay in his own country when there´s a Centennial?´´ ´´I should hope not,´´ cried Ben, who had just come in. Ben´s my large brother. He stands six feet two; weight, 210 pounds; eyes blue; hair shaved short; manners bluff; style generally A I. ´´The thing for us to do is the steam yacht business. Lay in a cargo of canned fruits, take a grand piano, confectionery, fire-works, French cook, brass band, touch at Newport on the way out, Banks of Newfoundland, icebergs, saluted by English steamers, run into Cowes on the other side, go up to Lord Dunderhead´s castle, return ball on board next night. Empress of India and the President of the United States drunk standing, then up the Mediterranean, sweep in the whole of the historic sea from Gibraltar to Greece, salute the flags of all nations, flirt with the women of all climes, write our names on everything that´s exposed, load up with cashmere shawls, old masters, mummies, cheap statuary, come back when the Centennial is all over, celebrated, satisfied, triumphant! Eh! What?´´ ´´Stop a moment,´´ said June, ´´I want to hug you.´´ ´´Don´t hug me,´´ replied Ben; ´´go and hug the Governor; that´s where the pressure must be applied; it´ll take from ten to fifteen thousand dollars. ´´ ´´Is that all?´´ said the dear girl. ´´Why, it´s dirt cheap. It costs more than that to go to Paris, don´t it?´´ ´´Yes, if there´s women in the party.´´ ´´At all events,´´ continued June, sitting down on her trunk and assuming a meditative look, ´´we must go somewhere. This is the first time in five years that we haven´t had our route made up before the first of April. Do you know that this delay is awful? If any thing should happen to keep us in New York all summer, I should never cease to upbraid myself for my crime and folly to my latest breath.´´ ´´My dear June,´´ I remarked, ´´that´s an absurd supposition; whatever happens, that need not take place.´´ 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. A Sketch (Classic Reprint) Bücher > Fremdsprachige Bücher > Englische Bücher > Kinder- & Jugendbücher Taschenbuch 17.07.2015 Buch (fremdspr.), Forgotten Books, .201<

ISBN: 9781331608295

A Sketch (Classic Reprint) Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, w… Plus…

A Sketch (Classic Reprint) Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressing. Pioneers, O Pioneers! - Walt Whitman. "Are we Americans, or are we not? That's what I'd like to know," cried June. June's my sister. She had jumped upon her big Saratoga trunk, and had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the little corporal when he stormed the bridge of Lodi. "We are!" I cried. "Then," said June, "where are we going? That's the next thing I'd like to know. Where are we going to?" Now she had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the stump speaker in the minstrel band. "Why, of course we'll go to Europe," I said. "Breathes there an American with soul so dead as to stay in his own country when there's a Centennial?" "I should hope not," cried Ben, who had just come in. Ben's my large brother. He stands six feet two; weight, 210 pounds; eyes blue; hair shaved short; manners bluff; style generally A I. "The thing for us to do is the steam yacht business. Lay in a cargo of canned fruits, take a grand piano, confectionery, fire-works, French cook, brass band, touch at Newport on the way out, Banks of Newfoundland, icebergs, saluted by English steamers, run into Cowes on the other side, go up to Lord Dunderhead's castle, return ball on board next night. Empress of India and the President of the United States drunk standing, then up the Mediterranean, sweep in the whole of the historic sea from Gibraltar to Greece, salute the flags of all nations, flirt with the women of all climes, write our names on everything that's exposed, load up with cashmere shawls, old masters, mummies, cheap statuary, come back when the Centennial is all over, celebrated, satisfied, triumphant! Eh! What?" "Stop a moment," said June, "I want to hug you." "Don't hug me," replied Ben; "go and hug the Governor; that's where the pressure must be applied; it'll take from ten to fifteen thousand dollars. " "Is that all?" said the dear girl. "Why, it's dirt cheap. It costs more than that to go to Paris, don't it?" "Yes, if there's women in the party." "At all events," continued June, sitting down on her trunk and assuming a meditative look, "we must go somewhere. This is the first time in five years that we haven't had our route made up before the first of April. Do you know that this delay is awful? If any thing should happen to keep us in New York all summer, I should never cease to upbraid myself for my crime and folly to my latest breath." "My dear June," I remarked, "that's an absurd supposition; whatever happens, that need not take place." 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. Bücher / Fremdsprachige Bücher / Englische Bücher / Kinder- & Jugendbücher 978-1-331-60829-5, Forgotten Books<

2015, ISBN: 1331608295

[EAN: 9781331608295], Neubuch, [PU: Forgotten Books, United States], Language: English . Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****. Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my … Plus…

[EAN: 9781331608295], Neubuch, [PU: Forgotten Books, United States], Language: English . Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****. Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressing. Pioneers, O Pioneers! - Walt Whitman. Are we Americans, or are we not? That s what I d like to know, cried June. June s my sister. She had jumped upon her big Saratoga trunk, and had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the little corporal when he stormed the bridge of Lodi. We are! I cried. Then, said June, where are we going? That s the next thing I d like to know. Where are we going to? Now she had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the stump speaker in the minstrel band. Why, of course we ll go to Europe, I said. Breathes there an American with soul so dead as to stay in his own country when there s a Centennial? I should hope not, cried Ben, who had just come in. Ben s my large brother. He stands six feet two; weight, 210 pounds; eyes blue; hair shaved short; manners bluff; style generally A I. The thing for us to do is the steam yacht business. Lay in a cargo of canned fruits, take a grand piano, confectionery, fire-works, French cook, brass band, touch at Newport on the way out, Banks of Newfoundland, icebergs, saluted by English steamers, run into Cowes on the other side, go up to Lord Dunderhead s castle, return ball on board next night. Empress of India and the President of the United States drunk standing, then up the Mediterranean, sweep in the whole of the historic sea from Gibraltar to Greece, salute the flags of all nations, flirt with the women of all climes, write our names on everything that s exposed, load up with cashmere shawls, old masters, mummies, cheap statuary, come back when the Centennial is all over, celebrated, satisfied, triumphant! Eh! What? Stop a moment, said June, I want to hug you. Don t hug me, replied Ben; go and hug the Governor; that s where the pressure must be applied; it ll take from ten to fifteen thousand dollars. Is that all? said the dear girl. Why, it s dirt cheap. It costs more than that to go to Paris, don t it? Yes, if there s women in the party. At all events, continued June, sitting down on her trunk and assuming a meditative look, we must go somewhere. This is the first time in five years that we haven t had our route made up before the first of April. Do you know that this delay is awful? If any thing should happen to keep us in New York all summer, I should never cease to upbraid myself for my crime and folly to my latest breath. My dear June, I remarked, that s an absurd supposition; whatever happens, that need not take place. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at 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.<

2015, ISBN: 1331608295

[EAN: 9781331608295], Neubuch, [PU: Forgotten Books, United States], Language: English . Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****.Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my s… Plus…

[EAN: 9781331608295], Neubuch, [PU: Forgotten Books, United States], Language: English . Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****.Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressing. Pioneers, O Pioneers! - Walt Whitman. Are we Americans, or are we not? That s what I d like to know, cried June. June s my sister. She had jumped upon her big Saratoga trunk, and had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the little corporal when he stormed the bridge of Lodi. We are! I cried. Then, said June, where are we going? That s the next thing I d like to know. Where are we going to? Now she had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the stump speaker in the minstrel band. Why, of course we ll go to Europe, I said. Breathes there an American with soul so dead as to stay in his own country when there s a Centennial? I should hope not, cried Ben, who had just come in. Ben s my large brother. He stands six feet two; weight, 210 pounds; eyes blue; hair shaved short; manners bluff; style generally A I. The thing for us to do is the steam yacht business. Lay in a cargo of canned fruits, take a grand piano, confectionery, fire-works, French cook, brass band, touch at Newport on the way out, Banks of Newfoundland, icebergs, saluted by English steamers, run into Cowes on the other side, go up to Lord Dunderhead s castle, return ball on board next night. Empress of India and the President of the United States drunk standing, then up the Mediterranean, sweep in the whole of the historic sea from Gibraltar to Greece, salute the flags of all nations, flirt with the women of all climes, write our names on everything that s exposed, load up with cashmere shawls, old masters, mummies, cheap statuary, come back when the Centennial is all over, celebrated, satisfied, triumphant! Eh! What? Stop a moment, said June, I want to hug you. Don t hug me, replied Ben; go and hug the Governor; that s where the pressure must be applied; it ll take from ten to fifteen thousand dollars. Is that all? said the dear girl. Why, it s dirt cheap. It costs more than that to go to Paris, don t it? Yes, if there s women in the party. At all events, continued June, sitting down on her trunk and assuming a meditative look, we must go somewhere. This is the first time in five years that we haven t had our route made up before the first of April. Do you know that this delay is awful? If any thing should happen to keep us in New York all summer, I should never cease to upbraid myself for my crime and folly to my latest breath. My dear June, I remarked, that s an absurd supposition; whatever happens, that need not take place. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at 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.<

ISBN: 9781331608295

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Forgotten Books], Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid… Plus…

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Forgotten Books], Excerpt from The Iron Trail: A Sketch I, too, with my soul and body. We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way Through these shores, amid the shadows, with The apparitions pressing. Pioneers, O Pioneers! - Walt Whitman. "Are we Americans, or are we not? That's what I'd like to know," cried June. June's my sister. She had jumped upon her big Saratoga trunk, and had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the little corporal when he stormed the bridge of Lodi. "We are!" I cried. "Then," said June, "where are we going? That's the next thing I'd like to know. Where are we going to?" Now she had unconsciously assumed the attitude of the stump speaker in the minstrel band. "Why, of course we'll go to Europe," I said. "Breathes there an American with soul so dead as to stay in his own country when there's a Centennial?" "I should hope not," cried Ben, who had just come in. Ben's my large brother. He stands six feet two weight, 210 pounds eyes blue hair shaved short manners bluff style generally A I. "The thing for us to do is the steam yacht business. Lay in a cargo of canned fruits, take a grand piano, confectionery, fire-works, French cook, brass band, touch at Newport on the way out, Banks of Newfoundland, icebergs, saluted by English steamers, run into Cowes on the other side, go up to Lord Dunderhead's castle, return ball on board next night. Empress of India and the President of the United States drunk standing, then up the Mediterranean, sweep in the whole of the historic sea from Gibraltar to Greece, salute the flags of all nations, flirt with the women of all climes, write our names on everything that's exposed, load up with cashmere shawls, old masters, mummies, cheap statuary, come back when the Centennial is all over, celebrated, satisfied, triumphant! Eh! What?" "Stop a moment," said June, "I want to hug you." "Don't hug me," replied Ben "go and hug the Governor that's where the pressure must be applied it'll take from ten to fifteen thousand dollars. " "Is that all?" said the dear girl. "Why, it's dirt cheap. It costs more than that to go to Paris, don't it?" "Yes, if there's women in the party." "At all events," continued June, sitting down on her trunk and assuming a meditative look, "we must go somewhere. This is the first time in five years that we haven't had our route made up before the first of April. Do you know that this delay is awful? If any thing should happen to keep us in New York all summer, I should never cease to upbraid myself for my crime and folly to my latest breath." "My dear June," I remarked, "that's an absurd supposition whatever happens, that need not take place." 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. Versandfertig in 3-5 Tagen, [SC: 0.00], Neuware, gewerbliches Angebot<