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Captain Cook Before the return of these ships, another expedition was determined on, the immediate object of which was to observe a transit of Venus which it had been calculated by astronomers would occur in 1769.
William Henry Giles Kingston Before the return of these ships, another expedition was determined on, the immediate object of which was to observe a transit of Venus which it had been calculated by astronomers would occur in 1769.
William Henry Giles Kingston The continent of America, if the stony records of the Past are read aright, claims to be the oldest instead of the newest portion of the globe. Bowing to this opinion of geologists till they see cause to express a different one, in consequence, commence the survey of the world and its inhabitants with the Western Hemisphere.
William Henry Giles Kingston In the Wilds of Florida is a tale of an Irish schoolboy who leaves school and his struggling family in Ireland to come to America. He experiences a Florida where fighting still erupts between Cherokee and Seminole Indians, where white people are under threat of Indian attack, and the landscape is mostly swamp or plains of dense brush.
William Henry Giles Kingston This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.
William Henry Giles Kingston A dense mist hung over the ocean; the sky above our heads was of a grey tint; the water below our feet of the colour of lead. Not a ripple disturbed its mirror-like surface, except when now and then a covey of flying fish leaped forth to escape from their pursuers, or it was clove by the fin of a marauding shark. We knew that we were not far off the coast of Africa, some few degrees to the south of the Equator; but how near we were we could not tell, for the calm had continued for several days, and a strong current, setting to the eastward, had been rapidly drifting us toward the shore.
William Henry Giles Kingston Ths journal fiom winch, the following narrative is taken was put into my bands nearly twenty years ago by a well-known naval officer, now himself an admiral (the grandson of the author) with full permission to publish it in any way I judged best. The gallant writer of this journal rose to be an admiral, and was well known for his social qualities and for the humour with which he used to narrate the stirringjincidents of his naval career, several of which I had the advantage of hearing in addition to the perusal of that voluminous log which he preserved through many a shipwreck and numberless other accidents of his adventurous life on the ocean. As the journal itself would not, I conceived, have proved interesting to those for whom I have been accustomed to write, had I published it in its crude state, I took advantage of the permission I had received to make such emendations and additions as I thought were calculated to render it acceptable to them.
William Henry Giles Kingston The night brought relief from the heat, and hope revived; but when morning returned, again the suffering crew had to endure the scorching rays of the sun, from which even the shade cast by the sails afforded them but inadequate shelter. The chips from the carpenter’s bench which had been thrown overboard still lay alongside; while the creaking of the yards and blocks, and the slight splashing sound as the vessel moved from side to side by the now scarcely perceptible undulations of the broad Atlantic, alone broke the silence which, reigned over the watery expanse on which she floated. Norah—a fair and beautiful girl, who, though scarcely sixteen summers had passed over her head, had already the appearance, and what was to her of the greatest consequence, the calm resolution of more mature age—stopping for a moment in her employment, looked up with an inquiring glance from her blue eyes towards the first mate, who had just then, hat in hand, entered the cabin.
William Henry Giles Kingston It is in the middle of the sixteenth century, and in Spain, where the Inquisition, and subsequent torturing and burning to death by the Catholic of those who would not agree to its tenets, is getting under way.
An Archbishop calls at the house of a former friend of his, a woman who had refused him in love. The woman is the widow of a great nobleman. The Archbishop is chatting to his former friend's daughter, and is thinking how like the child is to what she had been. Unfortunately the child artlessly gives away the fact that the family had now adopted Protestantism, due perhaps to her father having met Luther while on visits to Germany.
Some years later the child is now grown up, and has two suitors, one of whom is a rich Catholic, and the other is a much poorer man but a Protestant. She and others are meeting at the house of a woman who often has such clandestine all-Protestant meetings, when they hear that a person they all know has gone mad and has run around telling everyone about these Protestant meetings. The Inquisition of course, with spies everywhere, hears all about it. From then onward the story takes many of them to the jails of the Inquisition, and some are burnt at the auto-da-fe, a ritualised torture ceremony ending in death at the stake.
William Henry Giles Kingston The basic story-line is that there is a fort in the Hudson Bay Territory that needs some stores and materials to be sent to it from another fort about 150 miles away. The journey could be done by canoe, but there are none available at this time. So a party of people are sent overland to fetch what is required.
William Henry Giles Kingston It was evening. The sun had just set beneath the waters of the Pacific, which could be distinguished in the far distance; and the whole western sky, undimmed by a cloud, was burning with a radiant glow of splendour such as to the eyes of the untutored Peruvians might well appear an emanation from the Deity they worshipped.
I was looking out, with others of my family, from the windows of the country house we inhabited, on the glorious spectacle. We were residing in Peru, that romantic region with which the name of the conqueror Pizarro must be for ever associated—the kingdom of the once powerful and enlightened Incas, on the western shore of South America. At the time of which I speak, however, its greatness, its prosperity and happiness, had passed away; it was a mere province of Old Spain, and governed by a viceroy sent from that country, while the race of its ancient sovereigns, though still existing, was humbled and disregarded, and almost unknown.
My parents were English, and England was my native land. My father, Mr Henry Rexton, had been a soldier in his youth; but when he married my mother, who was the daughter of an eminent British merchant, he quitted the army; and my grandfather induced him, by advantageous offers, to take a share in his house of business. The firm traded with Peru; and certain mercantile transactions of importance requiring for a time the superintendence of a partner, my father and mother went out there, taking with them me and a younger sister, their only children then born. Year after year unexpected circumstances occurred which compelled them, much against their wish, to remain in the country; and well do I remember how frequently in our family circle the subject of conversation was the happiness we expected to enjoy on returning home. On first going to Peru, we resided in Lima, the modern capital; but at length the heat of the climate affecting my mother’s health, in the hopes of it being restored by a cooler atmosphere, my father engaged a house in the country, at a considerable distance from the city. It was situated among the lower ranges of the lofty Cordilleras, one of those mighty ranges of mountains which stretches from one end to the other of the South American continent, the eastern portion of them being more properly known by the name of the Andes.
William Henry Giles Kingston This is a collection of nine stories, some short, and some not so short. They are all very good reading, and Kingston seems to be at his best in the short story mode. You will probably enjoy the two episodes from the life of Uncle Boz, that form the second story, especially the first, when he organizes the rescue of the crew and passengers of a vessel that is wrecked near his house on a stormy Christmas Day. The first story, Happy Jack, is by far the longest, occupying one third of the whole book. Jack, in spite of the desires of his lawyer father, goes to sea, where he has many adventures, culminating in an event in which he was presumed to have perished. Very short of money, and looking somewhat disheveled, he reaches home, where he is not recognized by his sisters, but a girl who was being brought up by the family, and who was mutually interested in Jack, does recognize him, and he is given a proper welcome home.