O. W. Holmes, W. Holmes:The Professor at the Breakfast-Table
- Livro de bolso 2007, ISBN: 1408631032, Lieferbar binnen 4-6 Wochen Custos de envio:Versandkostenfrei innerhalb der BRD
Internationaler Buchtitel. In englischer Sprache. Verlag: HEWLETT PR, 340 Seiten, L=216mm, B=140mm, H=19mm, Gew.=431gr, [GR: 21110 - TB/Belletristik/Romane/Erzählungen], [SW: - Fiction -… mais…
Internationaler Buchtitel. In englischer Sprache. Verlag: HEWLETT PR, 340 Seiten, L=216mm, B=140mm, H=19mm, Gew.=431gr, [GR: 21110 - TB/Belletristik/Romane/Erzählungen], [SW: - Fiction - General], Kartoniert/Broschiert, Klappentext: THE PROFESSOR AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE -- I INTENDED to have signalised my first appearance by a certain large statement, which I flatter myself is the nearest approach to a universal formula of life yet promulgated at this breakfast-table. It would have had a grand effect. For this purpose I fixed my eyes on a certain divinity-student, with the intention of exchanging a few phrases, and then forcing my court-card, namely, The great end of being.-I will thank you for the sugar, -I said.-Man is a dependent creature. It is a small favour to ask, -said the divinity-student, --and passed the sugar to me. - Life is a great bundle of little things, -I said. The divinity-student smiled, as if that was the concluding epigram of the sugar question. You smile, -I said.-Perhaps life seems to you a little bundle of great things The divinity-student started a laugh, but suddenly reined it back with a pull, as one throws a horse on his haunches.-Life is a great bundle of great things, -he said. Now, then I The great end o being, after all, is-Hold on -said my neighbour, a young fellow whose name seems to be John, and nothing else, -for that is what they all call him-hold on the Sculpin is gon to say somethin. Now the Sculpin Cottus Virginianus is a little waterbeast which pretends to consider itself a fish, and, under that pretext, hangs about the piles upon which West-Boston Bridge is built, swallowing the bait and hook intended for flounders. On being drawn from the water, it exposes an immense head, a diminutive bony carcase, and a surface so full of spines, ridges, ruffles, and frills, that the naturalists have not been able to count them without quarrelling about the number, and that the coloured youth, whose sport they spoil, do not like to touch them, and especially to tread on them, unless they happen to have shoes on, to cover the thick white soles of their broad black feet. When, therefore, I heard the young fellows exclamation, I looked round the table with curiosity to see what it meant. At the further end of it I saw a head, and a small portion of a little deformed body, mounted on a high chair, which brought the occupant up to a fair level enough for him to get at his food. His whole appearance was so grotesque, I felt for a minute as if there was a showman behind him who would pull him down presently and put up ludy, or the hangman, or the Devil, or some other wooden personage of the famous spectacle. I contrived to lose the first part of his sentence, but what I heard began so - -by the Frog Pond, when there were frogs in it, and the folks used to come down from the tents on Lection, and Independence days with their pails to get water to make egg-pop with. Born in Boston went to school in Boston as long as the boys would let me.-The little man groaned, turned, as if to look round, and went on. - Ran away from school one day to see Phillips hung for killing Denegri with a loggerhead. That was in flip days, when there were always two or three loggerheads in the fire. Im a Boston boy, I tell you, -born at North End, and mean to be buried on Copps Hill, with the good old underground people, -the Worthylakes, and the rest of em... THE PROFESSOR AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE -- I INTENDED to have signalised my first appearance by a certain large statement, which I flatter myself is the nearest approach to a universal formula of life yet promulgated at this breakfast-table. It would have had a grand effect. For this purpose I fixed my eyes on a certain divinity-student, with the intention of exchanging a few phrases, and then forcing my court-card, namely, The great end of being.-I will thank you for the sugar, -I said.-Man is a dependent creature. It is a small favour to ask, -said the divinity-student, --and passed the sugar to me. - Life is a great bundle of little things, -I said. The divinity-student smiled, as if that was the concluding epigram of the sugar question. You smile, -I said.-Perhaps life seems to you a little bundle of great things The divinity-student started a laugh, but suddenly reined it back with a pull, as one throws a horse on his haunches.-Life is a great bundle of great things, -he said. Now, then I The great end o being, after all, is-Hold on -said my neighbour, a young fellow whose name seems to be John, and nothing else, -for that is what they all call him-hold on the Sculpin is gon to say somethin. Now the Sculpin Cottus Virginianus is a little waterbeast which pretends to consider itself a fish, and, under that pretext, hangs about the piles upon which West-Boston Bridge is built, swallowing the bait and hook intended for flounders. On being drawn from the water, it exposes an immense head, a diminutive bony carcase, and a surface so full of spines, ridges, ruffles, and frills, that the naturalists have not been able to count them without quarrelling about the number, and that the coloured youth, whose sport they spoil, do not like to touch them, and especially to tread on them, unless they happen to have shoes on, to cover the thick white soles of their broad black feet. When, therefore, I heard the young fellows exclamation, I looked round the table with curiosity to see what it meant. At the further end of it I saw a head, and a small portion of a little deformed body, mounted on a high chair, which brought the occupant up to a fair level enough for him to get at his food. His whole appearance was so grotesque, I felt for a minute as if there was a showman behind him who would pull him down presently and put up ludy, or the hangman, or the Devil, or some other wooden personage of the famous spectacle. I contrived to lose the first part of his sentence, but what I heard began so - -by the Frog Pond, when there were frogs in it, and the folks used to come down from the tents on Lection, and Independence days with their pails to get water to make egg-pop with. Born in Boston went to school in Boston as long as the boys would let me.-The little man groaned, turned, as if to look round, and went on. - Ran away from school one day to see Phillips hung for killing Denegri with a loggerhead. That was in flip days, when there were always two or three loggerheads in the fire. Im a Boston boy, I tell you, -born at North End, and mean to be buried on Copps Hill, with the good old underground people, -the Worthylakes, and the rest of em...<
