Literature, Comparative ; Literature, Comparative ; Littérature comparée ; Literature, Comparative ; Literature, Comparative ; Literature, Comparative ; Literature, Comparative ; Littérature comparée ; Littérature comparée ; Littérature comparée ; Littérature comparée ; Littérature comparée ; Film/Fiche is presented as orginally captured.

Wydawnictwo Akademii Umiejtnoci w Krakowie; Vol. 1: 2. ed., 1896

Contains music ; Authors contributing: Maurice Barre?s, Sarah Bernhardt, Laurence Binyon, etc. Arists: Le?on Bakst, Max Beerbohm, J.-E. Blanche, etc. Composers: Vincent d'Indy, Igor Stravinsky ; The book is sold for the benefit of the American hostels for refugees (with the Foyer franco-belge) and of the Children of Flanders Rescue Committee.

World War, 1914-1918

I. FROM MISS AURORA CHURCH, AT SEA, TO MISS WHITESIDE, IN PARIS My dear child, the bromide of sodium (if that's what you call it) proved perfectly useless. I don't mean that it did me no good, but that I never had occasion to take the bottle out of my bag. It might have done wonders for me if I had needed it; but I didn't, simply because I have been a wonder myself. Will you believe that I have spent the whole voyage on deck, in the most animated conversation and exercis...

I was not rich -- on the contrary; and I had been told the Pension Beaurepas was cheap. I had, moreover, been told that a boarding- house is a capital place for the study of human nature. I had a fancy for a literary career, and a friend of mine had said to me, If you mean to write you ought to go and live in a boarding-house; there is no other such place to pick up material. I had read something of this kind in a letter addressed by Stendhal to his sister: I have a pass...

The houses were dark in the August night and the perspective of Beacon Street, with its double chain of lamps, was a foreshortened desert. The club on the hill alone, from its semi-cylindrical front, projected a glow upon the dusky vagueness of the Common, and as I passed it I heard in the hot stillness the click of a pair of billiard-balls. As every one was out of town perhaps the servants, in the extravagance of their leisure, were profaning the tables. The heat was in...

There was a longish period— the dense duration of a London winter, cheered, if cheered it could be called, with lurid electric, with fierce 'incandescent' flares and glares— when they repeatedly met, at feeding-time, in a small and not quite savoury pothouse a stone's-throw from the Strand. They talked always of pothouses, of feeding-time— by which they meant any hour between one and four of the afternoon; they talked of most things, even of some of the greatest, in a ma...

There was a longish period -- the dense duration of a London winter, cheered, if cheered it could be called, with lurid electric, with fierce 'incandescent' flares and glares -- when they repeatedly met, at feeding-time, in a small and not quite savoury pothouse a stone's-throw from the Strand. They talked always of pothouses, of feeding-time -- by which they meant any hour between one and four of the afternoon; they talked of most things, even of some of the greatest, i...

The April day was soft and bright, and poor Dencombe, happy in the conceit of reasserted strength, stood in the garden of the hotel, comparing, with a deliberation in which however there was still something of languor, the attractions of easy strolls. He liked the feeling of the south so far as you could have it in the north, he liked the sandy cliffs and the clustered pines, he liked even the colourless sea. Bournemouth as a health-resort had sounded like a mere adverti...

Won't you stay a little longer? the hostess asked while she held the girl's hand and smiled. It's too early for every one to go -- it's too absurd. Mrs. Churchley inclined her head to one side and looked gracious; she flourished about her face, in a vaguely protecting sheltering way, an enormous fan of red feathers. Everything in her composition, for Adela Chart, was enormous. She had big eyes, big teeth, big shoulders, big hands, big rings and bracelets, big jewels of e...

The train was half an hour late and the drive from the station longer than he had supposed, so that when he reached the house its inmates had dispersed to dress for dinner and he was conducted straight to his room. The curtains were drawn in this asylum, the candles were lighted, the fire was bright, and when the servant had quickly put out his clothes the comfortable little place became suggestive — seemed to promise a pleasant house, a various party, talks, acquaintanc...