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The Face of Failure eBooks

by Octave Thanet


Face of Failure - Microsoft Reader eBook

Face of Failure eBook

Microsoft Reader

Platforms
Windows PC, Windows Mobile 5.0-6.0, Pocket PC 2003

Features
ClearType, advanced navigation, search, personal library, bookmarks, notes, and drawing.

Availability:
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Price: $1.99


Face of Failure - Palm eBook

The Face of Failure eBook

Palm

Platforms
Palm, Windows Mobile, Pocket PC, Windows PC, Mac, iPhone/iPod Touch

Features
Advanced navigation, search, bookmarks, and powerful viewing features.

Availability:
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Price: $3.84


The Face of Failure Summary

AFTER the week’s shower the low Iowa hills looked vividly green. At the base of the first range of hills the Blackhawk road winds from the city to the prairie. From its starting-point, just outside the city limits, the wayfarer may catch bird’s-eye glimpses of the city, the vast river that the Iowans love, and the three bridges tying three towns to the island arsenal. But at one’s elbow spreads Cavendish’s melon farm. Cavendish’s melon farm it still is, in current phrase, although Cavendish, whose memory is honored by lovers of the cantaloupe melon, long ago departed to raise melons for larger markets; and still a weather-beaten sign creaks from a post announcing to the world that “the celebrated Cavendish Melons are for Sale here!” To-day the melon-vines were softly shaded by rain-drops. A pleasant sight they made, spreading for acres in front of the green-houses where mushrooms and early vegetables strove to outwit the seasons, and before the brown cottage in which Cavendish had begun a successful career. The black roof-tree of the cottage sagged in the middle, and the weather-boarding was dingy with the streaky dinginess of old paint that has never had enough oil. The fences, too, were unpainted and rudely patched. Nevertheless a second glance told one that there were no gaps in them, that the farm machines kept their bright colors well under cover, and that the garden rows were beautifully straight and clean. An old white horse switched its sleek sides with its long tail and drooped its untrammelled neck in front of the gate. The wagon to which it was harnessed was new and had just been washed. Near the gate stood a girl and boy who seemed to be mutually studying each other’s person. Decidedly the girl’s slim, light figure in its dainty frock repaid one’s eyes for their trouble; and her face, with its brilliant violet eyes, its full, soft chin, its curling auburn hair and d...




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