James Oliver Curwood - "Philip Steele of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police"

Randall Parrish - "My Lady of the North"

Algernon Blackwood - "A Prisoner in Fairyland"

Constant - "Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, V5"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: A Laodicean

T >> Thomas Hardy >> A Laodicean




'Ma'am, Stancy Castle is all afire!' said the waiter
breathlessly.

Somerset jumped up, drew aside the curtains, and stepped into
the bow-window. Right before him rose a blaze. The window
looked upon the street and along the turnpike road to the very
hill on which the castle stood, the keep being visible in the
daytime above the trees. Here rose the light, which appeared
little further off than a stone's throw instead of nearly
three miles. Every curl of the smoke and every wave of the
flame was distinct, and Somerset fancied he could hear the
crackling.

Paula had risen from her seat and joined him in the window,
where she heard some people in the street saying that the
servants were all safe; after which she gave her mind more
fully to the material aspects of the catastrophe.

The whole town was now rushing off to the scene of the
conflagration, which, shining straight along the street,
showed the burgesses' running figures distinctly upon the
illumined road. Paula was quite ready to act upon Somerset's
suggestion that they too should hasten to the spot, and a fly
was got ready in a few minutes. With lapse of time Paula
evinced more anxiety as to the fate of her castle, and when
they had driven as near as it was prudent to do, they
dismounted, and went on foot into the throng of people which
was rapidly gathering from the town and surrounding villages.
Among the faces they recognized Mr. Woodwell, Havill the
architect, the rector of the parish, the curate, and many
others known to them by sight. These, as soon as they saw the
young couple, came forward with words of condolence, imagining
them to have been burnt out of bed, and vied with each other
in offering them a lodging. Somerset explained where they
were staying and that they required no accommodation, Paula
interrupting with 'O my poor horses, what has become of them?'

'The fire is not near the stables,' said Mr. Woodwell. 'It
broke out in the body of the building. The horses, however,
are driven into the field.'

'I can assure you, you need not be alarmed, madam,' said
Havill. 'The chief constable is here, and the two town
engines, and I am doing all I can. The castle engine
unfortunately is out of repair.'

Somerset and Paula then went on to another point of view near
the gymnasium, where they could not be seen by the crowd.
Three-quarters of a mile off, on their left hand, the powerful
irradiation fell upon the brick chapel in which Somerset had
first seen the woman who now stood beside him as his wife. It
was the only object visible in that direction, the dull hills
and trees behind failing to catch the light. She
significantly pointed it out to Somerset, who knew her
meaning, and they turned again to the more serious matter.

It had long been apparent that in the face of such a wind all
the pigmy appliances that the populace could bring to act upon
such a mass of combustion would be unavailing. As much as
could burn that night was burnt, while some of that which
would not burn crumbled and fell as a formless heap, whence
new flames towered up, and inclined to the north-east so far
as to singe the trees of the park. The thicker walls of
Norman date remained unmoved, partly because of their
thickness, and partly because in them stone vaults took the
place of wood floors.

The tower clock kept manfully going till it had struck one,
its face smiling out from the smoke as if nothing were the
matter, after which hour something fell down inside, and it
went no more.

Cunningham Haze, with his body of men, was devoted in his
attention, and came up to say a word to our two spectators
from time to time. Towards four o'clock the flames
diminished, and feeling thoroughly weary, Somerset and Paula
remained no longer, returning to Markton as they had come.

On their journey they pondered and discussed what course it
would be best to pursue in the circumstances, gradually
deciding not to attempt rebuilding the castle unless they were
absolutely compelled. True, the main walls were still
standing as firmly as ever; but there was a feeling common to
both of them that it would be well to make an opportunity of a
misfortune, and leaving the edifice in ruins start their
married life in a mansion of independent construction hard by
the old one, unencumbered with the ghosts of an unfortunate
line.

'We will build a new house from the ground, eclectic in style.
We will remove the ashes, charred wood, and so on from the
ruin, and plant more ivy. The winter rains will soon wash the
unsightly smoke from the walls, and Stancy Castle will be
beautiful in its decay. You, Paula, will be yourself again,
and recover, if you have not already, from the warp given to
your mind (according to Woodwell) by the mediaevalism of that
place.'

'And be a perfect representative of "the modern spirit"?' she
inquired; 'representing neither the senses and understanding,
nor the heart and imagination; but what a finished writer
calls "the imaginative reason"?'

'Yes; for since it is rather in your line you may as well keep
straight on.'

'Very well, I'll keep straight on; and we'll build a new house
beside the ruin, and show the modern spirit for evermore. . .
. But, George, I wish--' And Paula repressed a sigh.

'Well?'

'I wish my castle wasn't burnt; and I wish you were a De
Stancy!'