The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 13

With the first colour in the east, Carthew awoke and sat up. A while he gazed at the scroll of the morning bank and the spars and hanging canvas of the brig, like a man who wake...

Before noon, on the 26th November, there cleared from the port of Sydney the schooner _Currency Lass_. The owner, Norris Carthew, was on board in the somewhat unusual position o...

Singleton Carthew, the father of Norris, was heavily built and feebly vitalised, sensitive as a musician, dull as a sheep, and conscientious as a dog. He took his position with...

The food of the body differs not so greatly for the fool or the sage, the elephant or the cock-sparrow; and similar chemical elements, variously disguised, support all mortals....

"O, that was temporary insanity," said he; "and I thank the higher powers I am still a free man. Walking this way, Mr. Dodd? I'll walk along with you. It's pleasant for an old f...

The absorbing and disastrous adventure of the _Flying Scud_ was now quite ended; we had dashed into these deep waters and we had escaped again to starve; we had been ruined and...

I love to recall the glad monotony of a Pacific voyage, when the trades are not stinted, and the ship, day after day, goes free. The mountain scenery of trade-wind clouds, watch...

I have said hard words of San Francisco; they must scarce be literally understood (one cannot suppose the Israelites did justice to the land of Pharaoh); and the city took a fin...

In no part of the world is starvation an agreeable business; but I believe it is admitted there is no worse place to starve in than this city of Paris. The appearances of life a...

I reached my uncle's door next morning in time to sit down with the family to breakfast. More than three years had intervened--almost without mutation in that stationary househo...

The stranger, I have said, was some years older than myself: a man of a good stature, a very lively face, cordial, agitated manners, and a grey eye as active as a fowl's.

I was unhappy when I closed my eyes; and it was to unhappiness that I opened them again next morning, to a confused sense of some calamity still inarticulate, and to the conscio...

The sun of the morrow had not cleared the morning bank: the lake of the lagoon, the islets, and the wall of breakers now beginning to subside, still lay clearly pictured in the...

The next morning I found Pinkerton, who had risen before me, seated at our usual table, and deep in the perusal of what I will call the _Daily Occidental_. This was a paper (I k...

In the early sunlight of the next day we tossed close off the buoy, and saw the city sparkle in its groves about the foot of the Punch Bowl and the masts clustering thick in the...

In my early days I was a man, the most wedded to his idols of my generation. I was a dweller under roofs; the gull of that which we call civilisation; a superstitious votary of...

The last night at Midway I had little sleep; the next morning, after the sun was risen, and the clatter of departure had begun to reign on deck, I lay a long while dozing; and w...

Whether it came from my training and repeated bankruptcy at the commercial college, or by direct inheritance from old Loudon, the Edinburgh mason, there can be no doubt about th...

The ship which thus appeared before the castaways had long "tramped" the ocean, wandering from one port to another as freights offered. She was two years out from London, by the...

The beginning of this yarn is my poor father's character. There never was a better man, nor a handsomer, nor (in my view) a more unhappy--unhappy in his business, in his pleasur...

Long before I was awake the shyster had disappeared, leaving his bill unpaid. I did not need to inquire where he was gone, I knew too well, I knew there was nothing left me but...

It is very much the custom to view life as if it were exactly ruled in two, like sleep and waking--the provinces of play and business standing separate. The business side of my...

All hands were filled with joy. It was betrayed in their alacrity and easy faces: Johnson smiling broadly at the wheel, Nares studying the sketch chart of the island with an eye...

It was about three o'clock of a winter's afternoon in Tai-o-hae, the French capital and port of entry of the Marquesas Islands. The Trades blew strong and squally; the surf roar...

My mother's family was Scottish, and it was judged fitting I should pay a visit, on my way Paris-ward, to my uncle Adam Loudon, a wealthy retired grocer of Edinburgh. He was ver...

I fell from the skies on Barbizon about two o'clock of a September afternoon. It is the dead hour of the day; all the workers have gone painting, all the idlers strolling, in th...

_Of this SWANSTON EDITION in Twenty-five Volumes of the Works of ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON Two Thousand and Sixty Copies have been printed, of which only Two Thousand Copies are fo...