The Babe, B.A.

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book The Babe, B.A. by Edward Frederic Benson, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Edward Frederic Benson ISBN: 9781465619747
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Edward Frederic Benson
ISBN: 9781465619747
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English

Jack picked up his hat and stick and went off to his rooms in Trinity, where till half-past seven he drifted helplessly about like a ship-wrecked mariner, to whom no sail breaks the limitless horizon, in Thucydides’s graphic account of the Peloponnesian war. To Jack, however, it appeared that its chief characteristic was its length, rather than its interest, a criticism, the truth of which is rendered more and more probable every year by an enormous mass of perfectly independent, unbiassed critics. But being a short and stout young man, by no means infirm of purpose, he regarded that merely as a reason the more for beginning at once. Reggie Bristow and Ealing sat on for an hour or so by the fire. They were old friends, and so they did not need to talk much. Reggie was a year the younger of the two, and he was now half-way through his first term at King’s. They had been at Eton five years together, where they had both extracted a good deal of amusement out of life, and perhaps a little profit. They were both exceedingly healthy, to judge by the superficial standards of examinations, rather stupid, and, in the opinion of those who knew them, on a much more important matter, very liveable-with. Furthermore, they both played games rather well, and, as was right, neither of them ever troubled his head about abstract questions of any sort or kind. Living was pleasant, and they proceeded to live. Reggie had been performing this precarious feat with admirable steadiness for just nineteen years. Nature had gifted him with a pleasant face, and a healthy appetite had enabled him to show it to eminent advantage on the top of a tall body. He preferred talking to working, cricket to football, and lying in bed to “signing in” at 8 A.M. in the morning. He smoked a good many pipes every day, and blew smoke rings creditably. He played the piano a little, but his friends did not encourage him to take the necessary practice whereby he might play it any better. He was in fact perfectly normal, which is always the best thing to be.

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

Jack picked up his hat and stick and went off to his rooms in Trinity, where till half-past seven he drifted helplessly about like a ship-wrecked mariner, to whom no sail breaks the limitless horizon, in Thucydides’s graphic account of the Peloponnesian war. To Jack, however, it appeared that its chief characteristic was its length, rather than its interest, a criticism, the truth of which is rendered more and more probable every year by an enormous mass of perfectly independent, unbiassed critics. But being a short and stout young man, by no means infirm of purpose, he regarded that merely as a reason the more for beginning at once. Reggie Bristow and Ealing sat on for an hour or so by the fire. They were old friends, and so they did not need to talk much. Reggie was a year the younger of the two, and he was now half-way through his first term at King’s. They had been at Eton five years together, where they had both extracted a good deal of amusement out of life, and perhaps a little profit. They were both exceedingly healthy, to judge by the superficial standards of examinations, rather stupid, and, in the opinion of those who knew them, on a much more important matter, very liveable-with. Furthermore, they both played games rather well, and, as was right, neither of them ever troubled his head about abstract questions of any sort or kind. Living was pleasant, and they proceeded to live. Reggie had been performing this precarious feat with admirable steadiness for just nineteen years. Nature had gifted him with a pleasant face, and a healthy appetite had enabled him to show it to eminent advantage on the top of a tall body. He preferred talking to working, cricket to football, and lying in bed to “signing in” at 8 A.M. in the morning. He smoked a good many pipes every day, and blew smoke rings creditably. He played the piano a little, but his friends did not encourage him to take the necessary practice whereby he might play it any better. He was in fact perfectly normal, which is always the best thing to be.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Armenian Literature by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Beau Ideal by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Adonijah: A Tale of the Jewish Dispersion by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book The Witch of Prague by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book The Most Interesting Stories of all Nations: Real Life by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Poison Island by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Of the Origin of Government by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book La isla del tesoro by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book The Silver Bullet by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves Georgia Narratives (Complete) by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Mother Shipton by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Wager of Battle: A Tale of Saxon Slavery in Sherwood Forest by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book La Maison de l'Ogre by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book Historic Papers on the Causes of the Civil War by Edward Frederic Benson
Cover of the book The Insect by Edward Frederic Benson
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy