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Phil Brent was plodding through the snow in the direction of the house where he lived with his step-mother and her son, when a snow-ball, moist and hard, struck him just below his ear with stinging emphasis. The pain was considerable, and Phil's anger rose.
He turned suddenly, his eyes flashing fiercely, intent upon discovering who had committed this outrage, for he had no doubt that it was intentional.
He looked in all directions, but saw no one except a mild old gentleman in spectacles, who appeared to have some difficulty in making his way through the obstructed street.
Phil did not need to be told that it was not the old gentleman who had taken such an unwarrantable liberty with him. So he looked farther, but his ears gave him the first clew.
He heard a chuckling laugh, which seemed to proceed from behind the stone wall that ran along the roadside.
"I will see who it is," he decided, and plunging through the snow he surmounted the wall, in time to see a boy of about his own age running away across the fields as fast as the deep snow would allow.
"So it's you, Jonas!" he shouted wrathfully. "I thought it was some sneaking fellow like you."
Jonas Webb, his step-brother, his freckled face showing a degree of dismay, for he had not calculated on discovery, ran the faster, but while fear winged his steps, anger proved the more effectual spur, and Phil overtook him after a brief run, from the effects of which both boys panted.
"What made you throw that snow-ball?" demanded Phil angrily, as he seized Jonas by the collar and shook him.
"You let me alone!" said Jonas, struggling ineffectually in his grasp.
"Answer me! What made you throw that snowball?" demanded Phil, in a tone that showed he did not intend to be trifled with.
"Because I chose to," answered Jonas, his spite getting the better of his prudence. "Did it hurt you?" he continued, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"I should think it might. It was about as hard as a cannon-ball," returned Phil grimly. "Is that all you've got to say about it?"
"I did it in fun," said Jonas, beginning to see that he had need to be prudent.
"Very well! I don't like your idea of fun. Perhaps you won't like mine," said Phil, as he forcibly drew Jonas back till he lay upon the snow, and then kneeling by his side, rubbed his face briskly with snow.
"What are you doin'? Goin' to murder me?" shrieked Jonas, in anger and dismay.
"I am going to wash your face," said Phil, continuing the operation vigorously.
"I say, you quit that! I'll tell my mother," ejaculated Jonas, struggling furiously.
"If you do, tell her why I did it," said Phil.
Jonas shrieked and struggled, but in vain. Phil gave his face an effectual scrubbing, and did not desist until he thought he had avenged the bad treatment he had suffered.
"There, get up!" said he at length.
Jonas scrambled to his feet, his mean features working convulsively with anger.
"You'll suffer for this!" he shouted.
"You won't make me!" said Phil contemptuously.
"You're the meanest boy in the village."
"I am willing to leave that to the opinion of all who know me."
"I'll tell my mother!"
"Go home and tell her!"
Jonas started for home, and Phil did not attempt to stop him.
As he saw Jonas reach the street and plod angrily homeward, he said to himself:
"I suppose I shall be in hot water for this; but I can't help it. Mrs. Brent always stands up for her precious son, who is as like her as can be. Well, it won't make matters much worse than they have been."
Phil concluded not to go home at once, but to allow a little time for the storm to spend its force after Jonas had told his story. So he delayed half an hour and then walked slowly up to the side door. He opened the door, brushed off the snow from his boots with the broom that stood behind the door, and opening the inner door, stepped into the kitchen.
No one was there, as Phil's first glance satisfied him, and he was disposed to hope that Mrs. Brent-he never called her mother-was out, but a thin, acid, measured voice from the sitting-room adjoining soon satisfied him that there was to be no reprieve.
"Philip Brent, come here!"
Phil entered the sitting-room.
In a rocking-chair by the fire sat a thin woman, with a sharp visage, cold eyes and firmly compressed lips, to whom no child would voluntarily draw near.
On a sofa lay outstretched the hulking form of Jonas, with whom he had had his little difficulty.
"I am here, Mrs. Brent," said Philip manfully.
"Philip Brent," said Mrs. Brent acidly, "are you not ashamed to look me in the face?"
"I don't know why I should be," said Philip, bracing himself up for the attack.
"You see on the sofa the victim of your brutality," continued Mrs. Brent, pointing to the recumbent figure of her son Jonas.
Jonas, as if to emphasize these words, uttered a half groan.
Philip could not help smiling, for to him it seemed ridiculous.
"You laugh," said his step-mother sharply. "I am not surprised at it. You delight in your brutality."
"I suppose you mean that I have treated Jonas brutally."
"I see you confess it."
"No, Mrs. Brent, I do not confess it. The brutality you speak of was all on the side of Jonas."
"No doubt," retorted Mrs. Brent, with sarcasm.
"It's the case of the wolf and the lamb over again."
"I don't think Jonas has represented the matter to you as it happened," said Phil. "Did he tell you that he flung a snow-ball at my head as hard as a lump of ice?"
"He said he threw a little snow at you playfully and you sprang upon him like a tiger."
"There's a little mistake in that," said Phil. "The snow-ball was hard enough to stun me if it had hit me a little higher. I wouldn't be hit like that again for ten dollars."
"That ain't so! Don't believe him, mother!" said Jonas from the sofa.
"And what did you do?" demanded Mrs. Brent with a frown.
"I laid him down on the snow and washed his face with soft snow."
"You might have given him his death of cold," said Mrs. Brent, with evident hostility. "I am not sure but the poor boy will have pneumonia now, in consequence of your brutal treatment."
"And you have nothing to say as to his attack upon me?" said Phil indignantly.
"I have no doubt you have very much exaggerated it."
"Yes, he has," chimed in Jonas from the sofa.
Phil regarded his step-brother with scorn.
"Can't you tell the truth now and then, Jonas?" he asked contemptuously.
"You shall not insult my boy in my presence!" said Mrs. Brent, with a little spot of color mantling her high cheek-bones. "Philip Brent, I have too long endured your insolence. You think because I am a woman you can be insolent with impunity, but you will find yourself mistaken. It is time that you understood something that may lead you to lower your tone. Learn, then, that you have not a cent of your own. You are wholly dependent upon my bounty."
"What! Did my father leave you all his money?" asked Philip.
"He was NOT your father!" answered Mrs. Brent coldly.
Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant by Jr. Horatio Alger
Alger's writings happened to correspond with America's Gilded Age, a time of increasing prosperity in a nation rebuilding from the Civil War.This is another fine work by Alger in the vein of 'rags to riches' tales.
The class of boys described in the present volume was called into existence only a few years since, but they are already so numerous that one can scarcely ride down town by any conveyance without having one for a fellow-passenger. Most of them reside with their parents and have comfortable homes, but a few, like the hero of this story, are wholly dependent on their own exertions for a livelihood.
A youth of sturdy qualities elects to follow the calling of a deckhand on a Hudson River steamboat...
Alger describes young men in the city trying to get a head as newsboys, match boys, pedlars, street musicians, and many others. Through luck and hard work, sixteen-year-old Ohio farm boy Nat finds surprising success in nineteenth-century New York City.
This book is written in the typical Alger style. Herbert is a poor boy who sets out, with the help of his great uncle, to clear his father's name of a crime he did not commit...
I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved with someone so powerful. The energy he exuded the last time he was around was frightening as well as fascinating. But my curiosity got the better of me. "Go ahead then. I'm all ears." Right when I believed he was going to go ahead and spill it out, he took an unexpected action. Something so obnoxious and with so much authority. He says in a shrill voice. "I'd like to meet you tomorrow by two at Kincaid. I have a deal for you." And hangs up immediately after saying that. Adriana is faced with a choice to accept the Lycan king's proposal and take revenge on her ex-mate and Alia, her home wrecker or live like a rogue for the rest of her life. Everything was taken away from Adriana. She was heartbroken and dejected, so she left. Circumstances bring her back and she meets Alpha King Ares. The most feared and revered Lycan. He was feared in both the human and Lycan world. He presents an offer before her but she feared for the result of getting involved with such a man. What happens when their path is deviated by fate and they realize that they can't do without each other? Will they succeed in defeating their enemies and conquering the challenges that life will throw their way?
Damian didn't believe in love, but he needed a wife to claim the inheritance his uncle left him. Amelia needed to take revenge on her ex-husband, and what better way to do it than a marriage of convenience with his worst enemy? There were only two rules in their fake marriage: no entanglement or sexual relationship, and they would go their separate ways after the arrangement was over. But their attraction for each other is more than they bargained for. When feelings start to get real, and Noah wants Amelia back, will Damian let her go? Or will he fight for what he believes is his?
Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”
"I am flawed in every way possible," she said. "Good, I never asked for perfection," he replied immediately. When Sapphire Conrad, the wayward daughter of the Conrad Family, was called back to New York after running away from home to Gisborne, she only had a plan. Appear at the mansion, listen to whatever nonsense she had to say and say no to it, put up a strong font, then go back to her kids in Gisborne. Using her energy while trying to get revenge on all of them is a total waste of time even though they deserved to be trampled upon for what they did to her. It sounds like an easy enough plan until she got there and was asked to get into a marriage of convenience. Staying at New York was risky, she would be forced to face her ex-fiance who she had a nine years relationship with, the ex-best friend who snatched her fiance, her sister and mother who hate her with passion, and the list was longer than just that. But she couldn't leave her twin brother who is in danger there and there is this tiny little fact that Mr. Alexander Antonio Aldine, the CEO of Triple A Group definitely won't let her go.
In order to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, Stella entered into a hasty marriage with an ordinary man she had never met before. However, even after becoming husband and wife on paper, they each led separate lives, barely crossing paths. A year later, Stella returned to Seamarsh City, hoping to finally meet her mysterious husband. To her astonishment, he sent her a text message, unexpectedly pleading for a divorce without ever having met her in person. Gritting her teeth, Stella replied, "So be it. Let’s get a divorce!" Following that, Stella made a bold move and joined the Prosperity Group, where she became a public relations officer that worked directly for the company’s CEO, Matthew. The handsome and enigmatic CEO was already bound in matrimony, and was known to be unwaveringly devoted to his wife in private. Unbeknownst to Stella, her mysterious husband was actually her boss, in his alternate identity! Determined to focus on her career, Stella deliberately kept her distance from the CEO, although she couldn't help but notice his deliberate attempts to get close to her. As time went on, her elusive husband had a change of heart. He suddenly refused to proceed with the divorce. When would his alternate identity be uncovered? Amidst a tumultuous blend of deception and profound love, what destiny awaited them?
Three years ago, the Moore family opposed Charles Moore's choice to marry his beloved woman and selected Scarlett Riley as his bride. Charles didn't love her. In fact, he hated her. Not long after they got married, Scarlett received an offer from her dream university and jumped on it. Three years later, Charles's beloved woman fell terribly ill. In order to fulfill her last wish, he called Scarlett back and presented her with a divorce agreement. Scarlett was deeply hurt by Charles's abrupt decision, but she chose to let him go and agreed to sign the divorce papers. However, Charles seemed to delay the process deliberately, leaving Scarlett confused and frustrated. Now, Scarlett was trapped between the consequences of Charles's indecision. Would she be able to break free from him? Would Charles eventually come to his senses and face his true feelings?