Hector Malot eBooks
eBooks di Hector Malot editi da Forgotten Books
Episodes From Sans Famille. E-book. Formato PDF Hector Malot - Forgotten Books, 2017 -
The story is told that a master in one of our great public schools - which shall be nameless - kept on reading About's Le Roi des Montagnes with his French class for twelve years continuously. By the time it was ended a fresh lot of boys had come up, and he began it again. I can't help thinking he must have longed for some change, much as I admire Edmond About's brilliant jeu d'esprit. Nevertheless there is something to be said for his system. He had got hold of a book which interested and attracted his boys, and he stuck to it, not perhaps being readily able to put his hand on another. He remembered, probably the weary dulness that he had himself felt as a boy when struggling in very small instalments through Athalie, or even Les Femmes Savantes, or Tartuffe, and he wished to spare his pupils a similar infliction.
Nobody’s Boy: Sans Famille. E-book. Formato PDF Hector Malot - Forgotten Books, 2017 -
Was a foundling. But until I was eight years of age I thought I had a mother like other children, for when I cried a woman held me tightly in her arms and rocked me gently until my tears stopped falling. I never got into bed without her coming to kiss me, and when the December winds blew the icy snow against the window panes, she would take my feet between her hands and warm them, while she sang to me. Even now I can re member the song she used to sing. If a storm came on while I was out minding our. Cow, she would run down the lane to meet me, and cover my head and shoulders with her cotton skirt so that I Should not get wet. When I had a quarrel with one of the village boys she made me tell her all about it, and she would talk kindly to me when I was wrong and praise me when I was in the right. By these and many other things, by the way she spoke to me and looked at me, and the gentle way she scolded me, I believed that she was my mother. My village, or, to be more exact, the village where I was brought up, for I did not have a vil lage of my own, no birthplace, any more than I had a father or mother the village where I spent my childhood was called Chavanon; it is one of the poorest in France. Only sections of the land could be cultivated, for the great stretch Of moors was covered with heather and broom. We lived in a little house down by the brook. Until I was eight years of age I had never seen a man in our house; yet my adopted mother was 'not a widow, but her husband, who was a stone cutter, worked in Paris, and he had not been back to the village since I was of an age to notice what was going on around me. Occasionally he sent news by some companion who returned to the vil lage, for there were many of the peasants who were employed as stone-cutters in the city.
Sans Famille. E-book. Formato PDF Hector Malot - Forgotten Books, 2017 -
IT has been the aim in these selections from Sam Famille to give the story in as complete and consecutive a form as possible, presenting what, to the editor, has seemed to be the most valuable and characteristic in this work of Malot, and at the same time the most interesting from the narrative standpoint; for this reason almost all long descriptions have been omitted and chapters that do not directly bear on the immediate advancement of the story, such as Remi's stay at the gardener's and his experiences at the mining town. A straightforward, uninterrupted narration has been the principal aim; a text in which ample opportunity is given for conversation in the classroom; notes which do not translate (the selections being especially light and easy), but which may serve to point out illustra tions of the principal rules of grammar which a first year student is likely to compass, or a second-year student needs to review. It seems that this story has never been given its proper place in the evolution or development of French literature in the latter half of the nineteenth century.