- Libros en formato ePub -  

 The Day of The Beast
His native land! Home!
The ship glided slowly up the Narrows; and from its deck Daren Lane saw the noble black outline of the Statue of Liberty limned against the clear gold of sunset. A familiar old pang in his breast—longing and homesickness and agony, together with the physical burn of gassed lungs—seemed to swell into a profound overwhelming emotion.
"My own—my native land!" he whispered, striving to wipe the dimness from his eyes. Was it only two years or twenty since he had left his country to go to war? A sense of strangeness dawned upon him. His home-coming, so ceaselessly dreamed of by night and longed for by day, was not going to be what his hopes had created. But at that moment his joy was too great to harbor strange misgivings. How impossible for any one to understand his feelings then, except perhaps the comrades who had survived the same ordeal!
The vessel glided on. A fresh cool spring breeze with a scent of land fanned Lane's hot brow. It bore tidings from home. Almost he thought he smelled the blossoms in the orchard, and the damp newly plowed earth, and the smoke from the wood fire his mother used to bake over. A hundred clamoring thoughts strove for dominance over his mind—to enter and flash by and fade. His sight, however, except for the blur that returned again and again, held fast to the entrancing and thrilling scene—the broad glimmering sun-track of gold in the rippling channel, leading his eye to the grand bulk of America's symbol of freedom, and to the stately expanse of the Hudson River, dotted by moving ferry-boats and tugs, and to the magnificent broken sky-line of New York City, with its huge dark structures looming and its thousands of windows reflecting the fire of the sun....
 

 The Young Forester
I loved outdoor life and hunting. Some way a grizzly bear would come in when I tried to explain forestry to my brother.
“Hunting grizzlies!” he cried. “Why, Ken, father says you've been reading dime novels.”
“Just wait, Hal, till he comes out here. I'll show him that forestry isn't just bear-hunting.”
My brother Hal and I were camping a few days on the Susquehanna River, and we had divided the time between fishing and tramping. Our camp was on the edge of a forest some eight miles from Harrisburg. The property belonged to our father, and he had promised to drive out to see us. But he did not come that day, and I had to content myself with winning Hal over to my side.
“Ken, if the governor lets you go to Arizona can't you ring me in?”
“Not this summer. I'd be afraid to ask him. But in another year I'll do it.”
“Won't it be great? But what a long time to wait! It makes me sick to think of you out there riding mustangs and hunting bears and lions.”
“You'll have to stand it. You're pretty much of a kid, Hal—not yet fourteen. Besides, I've graduated.”...