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Other People Who Read Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus Also Read


 
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Alice May, And Bruising Bill

By: J. H. Ingraham

CHAPTER I: One cheerful autumnal morning, six years ago, a group of lovely girls was assembled in a window of a fashionable boarding school in one of the handsomest streets crossing Mount Vernon. One or two of them were seated with embroidery in their hands, but the rest were standing and talking, and amusing themselves by watching the passers by; for there was yet an idle quarter of an hour to recitations...

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The Fool Errant

By: Maurice Hewlett

Introduction: The top?heavy, four?horsed, yellow old coach from Vicenza, which arrived at Padua every night of the year, brought with it in particular on the night of October 13, 1721, a tall, personable young man, an Englishman, in a dark blue cloak, who swang briskly down from the coupe and asked in stilted Italian for ?La sapienza del Signer Dottor? Lanfranchi.? From out of a cloud of steam for the weather was wet and the speaker violently hot a husky voice replied, ?...

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La Bete Humaine

By: Emile Zola

En entrant dans la chambre, Roubaud posa sur la table le pain d'une livre, le pate et la bouteille de vin blanc. Mais, le matin, avant de descendre a son poste, la mere Victoire avait du couvrir le feu de son poele, d'un tel poussier, que la chaleur etait suffocante. Et le sous-chef de gare, ayant ouvert une fenetre, s'y accouda.

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The Cruiser of the Mist

By: J. H. Ingraham

CHAPTER I. THE HALF BROTHERS. On one of those brilliant mornings peculiar to the early autumnal days, when the atmosphere is like chrystal in transparency, and the skies are turgid with their leepest blue, two persons stood together upon an eminence that commanded the Bay of Raritan and a wide expanse of the ocean horizon to the eastward. They were both young men, though there was two or three years difference in their ages. The junior had scarcely passed his nineteenth ...

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The Truth about Pyecraft

By: Herbert George Wells

Excerpt: He sits not a dozen yards away. If I glance over my shoulder I can see him. And if I catch his eye and usually I catch his eye it meets me with an expression. It is mainly an imploring look and yet with suspicion in it. Confound his suspicion! If I wanted to tell on him I should have told long ago. I don?t tell and I don?t tell, and he ought to feel at his ease. As if anything so gross and fat as he could feel at ease! Who would believe me if I did tell? Poor ol...

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