Great Expectations is a novel by Charles Dickens. It was first published in serial form in the publication All the Year Round from 1 December 1860 to August 1861. It has been adapted for stage and screen over 250 times. Great Expectations is the story of the orphan Pip, writing about his life (and attempting to become a gentleman along the way). The novel, like much of Dickens' work, draws on his experiences of life and people. The main plot of Great Expectations takes place between Christmas Eve 1812, when the protagonist is about seven years old (and which happens to be the year of Dickens' birth), and the winter of 1840.
MY father's family name being Pirrip, and my christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister - Mrs Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, `Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,' I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine - who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle - I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence.
Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things, seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I found out for certain, that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dykes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond, was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing, was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.
`Hold your noise!' cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from among the graves at the side of the church porch. `Keep still, you little devil, or I'll cut your throat!'
A fearful man, all in coarse grey, with a great iron on his leg. A man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied round his head. A man who had been soaked in water, and smothered in mud, and lamed by stones, and cut by flints, and stung by nettles, and torn by briars; who limped, and shivered, and glared and growled; and whose teeth chattered in his head as he seized me by the chin.
`O! Don't cut my throat, sir,' I pleaded in terror. `Pray don't do it, sir.'
`Tell us your name!' said the man. `Quick!'
`Pip, sir.'
`Once more,' said the man, staring at me. `Give it mouth!'
`Pip. Pip, sir.'
`Show us where you live,' said the man. `Pint out the place!'
I pointed to where our village lay, on the flat in-shore among the alder-trees and pollards, a mile or more from the church.
The man, after looking at me for a moment, turned me upside down, and emptied my pockets. There was nothing in them but a piece of bread. When the church came to itself - for he was so sudden and strong that he made it go head over heels before me, and I saw the steeple under my feet - when the church came to itself, I say, I was seated on a high tombstone, trembling, while he ate the bread ravenously.
`You young dog,' said the man, licking his lips, `what fat cheeks you ha' got.'
I believe they were fat, though I was at that time undersized for my years, and not strong.
`Darn Me if I couldn't eat em,' said the man, with a threatening shake of his head, `and if I han't half a mind to't!'
I earnestly expressed my hope that he wouldn't, and held tighter to the tombstone on which he had put me; partly, to keep myself upon it; partly, to keep myself from crying.
`Now lookee here!' said the man. `Where's your mother?'
`There, sir!' said I.
He started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his shoulder.
`There, sir!' I timidly explained. `Also Georgiana. That's my mother.'
`Oh!' said he, coming back. `And is that your father alonger your mother?'
`Yes, sir,' said I; `him too; late of this parish.'
`Ha!' he muttered then, considering. `Who d'ye live with - supposin' you're kindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind about?'
`My sister, sir - Mrs Joe Gargery - wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith, sir.'
`Blacksmith, eh?' said he. And looked down at his leg.
After darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as far as he could hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his.
`Now lookee here,' he said, `the question being whether you're to be let to live. You know what a file is?'
`Yes, sir.'
`And you know what wittles is?'
`Yes, sir.'
After each question he titled me over a little more, so as to give me a greater sense of helplessness and danger.
`You get me a file.' He tilted me again. `And you get me wittles.' He tilted me again. `You bring 'em both to me.' He tilted me again. `Or I'll have your heart and liver out.' He tilted me again.
I was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that I clung to him with both hands, and said, `If you would kindly please to let me keep upright, sir, perhaps I shouldn't be sick, and perhaps I could attend more.'
He gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church jumped over its own weather-cock. Then, he held me by the arms, in an upright position on the top of the stone, and went on in these fearful terms:
`You bring me, to-morrow morning early, that file and them wittles. You bring the lot to me, at that old Battery over yonder. You do it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a sign concerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person sumever, and you shall be let to live. You fail, or you go from my words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart and your liver shall be tore out, roasted and ate. Now, I ain't alone, as you may think I am. There's a young man hid with me, in comparison with which young man I am a Angel. That young man hears the words I speak. That young man has a secret way pecooliar to himself, of getting at a boy, and at his heart, and at his liver. It is in wain for a boy to attempt to hide himself from that young man. A boy may lock his door, may be warm in bed, may tuck himself up, may draw the clothes over his head, may think himself comfortable and safe, but that young man will softly creep and creep his way to him and tear him open. I am a keeping that young man from harming of you at the present moment, with great difficulty. I find it wery hard to hold that young man off of your inside. Now, what do you say?'
I said that I would get him the file, and I would get him what broken bits of food I could, and I would come to him at the Battery, early in the morning.
`Say Lord strike you dead if you don't!' said the man.
I said so, and he took me down.
`Now,' he pursued, `you remember what you've undertook, and you remember that young man, and you get home!'
`Goo-good night, sir,' I faltered.
`Much of that!' said he, glancing about him over the cold wet flat. `I wish I was a frog. Or a eel!'
At the same time, he hugged his shuddering body in both his arms - clasping himself, as if to hold himself together - and limped towards the low church wall. As I saw him go, picking his way among the nettles, and among the brambles that bound the green mounds, he looked in my young eyes as if he were eluding the hands of the dead people, stretching up cautiously out of their graves, to get a twist upon his ankle and pull him in.
When he came to the low church wall, he got over it, like a man whose legs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for me. When I saw him turning, I set my face towards home, and made the best use of my legs. But presently I looked over my shoulder, and saw him going on again towards the river, still hugging himself in both arms, and picking his way with his sore feet among the great stones dropped into the marshes here and there, for stepping-places when the rains were heavy, or the tide was in.
The marshes were just a long black horizontal line then, as I stopped to look after him; and the river was just another horizontal line, not nearly so broad not yet so black; and the sky was just a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines intermixed. On the edge of the river I could faintly make out the only two black things in all the prospect that seemed to be standing upright; one of these was the beacon by which the sailors steered - like an unhooped cask upon a pole - an ugly thing when you were near it; the other a gibbet, with some chains hanging to it which had once held a pirate. The man was limping on towards this latter, as if he were the pirate come to life, and come down, and going back to hook himself up again. If gave me a terrible turn when I thought so; and as I saw the cattle lifting their heads to gaze after him, I wondered whether they thought so too. I looked all round for the horrible young man, and could see no sings of him. But, now I was frightened again, and ran home without stopping.
Trajectory presents classics of world literature with 21st century features! Our original-text editions include the following visual enhancements to foster a deeper understanding of the work: Word Clouds at the start of each chapter highlight important words. Word, sentence, paragraph counts, and reading time help readers and teachers determine chapter complexity. Co-occurrence graphs depict character-to-character interactions as well character to place interactions. Sentiment indexes identify positive and negative trends in mood within each chapter. Frequency graphs help display the impact this book has had on popular culture since its original date of publication. Use Trajectory analytics to deepen comprehension, to provide a focus for discussions and writing assignments, and to engage new readers with some of the greatest stories ever told."Six Little Bunkers at Cousin Tom's" by Laura Lee Hope is part of the Six Little Bunkers series. The Six Little Bunkers series is about the adventures of the Bunker Family when they had no access to technology.
In the 1840s Charles Dickens wrote 5 short stories with strong social and moral messages. The Chimes: A Goblin Story of Some Bells that Rand an Old Year Out and a New Year In, is the second of these stories, whose predecessor was the famous A Christmas Carol. The Chimes focuses on Trotty, a poor elderly messenger who is filled with gloom over reports of crime and immorality in the newspapers. After losing faith in the society, Trotty follows a call to the church bell tower where he encounters Goblins that teach him, and listeners, lessons in the form of visions about the mistreatment of the lower class in society. This story of social awakening inspires listeners to treat everyone with fair kindness.
Charles Dickens needs no formal introduction, having been the most popular English writer of the 19th century and still one of the most popular writers in history today. Dickens was obsessed with reading, making him a natural journalist by the age of 20, when he began a career in journalism. Along the way, he also began writing his own short stories and materials, often serializing them in monthly installments in publications, a popular method of publishing in the 19th century. Unlike most writers, Dickens would not write an entire story before it began its serialization, allowing him to work on the fly and leave plot lines up in the air with each opportunity. By the time he died at the relatively young age of 58 from a stroke, he was already Europe's most famous writer. His obituary noted that Dickens was a "sympathiser with the poor, the suffering, and the oppressed." Dickens was interred in Westminster Abbey, a rare honor bestowed only among the greatest and most accomplished Britons. Many of Dickens' novels were written with the concept of social reform in mind, and Dickens' work was often praised for its realism, comic genius and unique personalities. At the same time, however, Dickens' ability as a writer was nearly unrivaled, with his ability to write in prose unquestioned and unmatched.
A Christmas Carol launched Dickens's Christmas novellas; The Haunted Man and the Ghost's Bargain brings the series to an end. Professor Redlaw is haunted by a ghost-like creature that looks astonishingly like him. The spirit relieves Redlaw of his miseries from years gone by, but there are unforeseen consequences of forgetting the past.
Dodo Collections brings you another classic from Charles Dickens, 'The Cricket on the Hearth: A Fairy Tale of Home.' Dickens gave his first formal expression to his Christmas thoughts in his series of small books, the first of which was the famous "Christmas Carol." There followed four others: "The Chimes," "The Cricket on the Hearth," "The Battle of Life," and "The Haunted Man." The five are known today as the "Christmas Books." Of them all the "Carol" is the best known and loved, and "The Cricket on the Hearth," although third in the series, is perhaps next in popularity, and is especially familiar to Americans through Joseph Jefferson's characterisation of Caleb Plummer. The title creature is a sort of barometer of life at the home of John Peerybingle and his much younger wife Dot. When things go well, the cricket on the hearth chirps; it is silent when there is sorrow. Tackleton, a jealous old man, poisons John's mind about Dot, but the cricket through its supernatural powers restores John's confidence and all ends happily. Charles Dickens was an English writer and social critic. He created some of the world's best-known fictional characters and is regarded as the greatest novelist of the Victorian era. His works enjoyed unprecedented popularity during his lifetime, and by the twentieth century critics and scholars had recognised him as a literary genius. His novels and short stories enjoy lasting popularity.Born in Portsmouth, Dickens left school to work in a factory when his father was incarcerated in a debtors' prison. Despite his lack of formal education, he edited a weekly journal for 20 years, wrote 15 novels, five novellas, hundreds of short stories and non-fiction articles, lectured and performed extensively, was an indefatigable letter writer, and campaigned vigorously for children's rights, education, and other social reforms. A prolific 19th Century author of short stories, plays, novellas, novels, fiction and non-fiction; during his lifetime Dickens became known the world over for his remarkable characters, his mastery of prose in the telling of their lives, and his depictions of the social classes, morals and values of his times. Some considered him the spokesman for the poor, for he definitely brought much awareness to their plight, the downtrodden and the have-nots. He had his share of critics, like Virginia Woolf and Henry James, but also many admirers, even into the 21st Century.
A satiric masterpiece about the allure and peril of money, Our Mutual Friend revolves around the inheritance of a dust-heap where the rich throw their trash. When the body of John Harmon, the dust-heap’s expected heir, is found in the Thames, fortunes change hands surprisingly, raising to new heights “Noddy” Boffin, a low-born but kindly clerk who becomes “the Golden Dustman.” Charles Dickens’s last complete novel, Our Mutual Friend encompasses the great themes of his earlier works: the pretensions of the nouveaux riches, the ingenuousness of the aspiring poor, and the unfailing power of wealth to corrupt all who crave it. With its flavorful cast of characters and numerous subplots, Our Mutual Friend is one of Dickens’s most complex—and satisfying—novels.
On her 18th birthday, Ayra is sold to Alpha Evon, one of the most ruthless Alphas in town, by her stepfather, Victor. Introduced to a brutal world where women are treated as mere possessions, her only hope of freedom is to bear Evon a male heir. But in the midst of her suffering, Ayra uncovers a startling truth: Evon is her fated mate, though he remains oblivious to their bond. Over time, Ayra's feelings for Evon begin to shift, softening her resolve to escape. Just when she starts reconsidering her plans, a devastating incident shatters her completely, forcing her to flee the mansion. Yet her journey is far from over. Ayra soon finds herself in a new life, rescued by Leo and Luca, the twin Alphas of the Golden Breed Pack. As she navigates this new world, Ayra learns that these twins are her second chance mates, presenting her with an impossible choice. With a child on the way from her first mate, Alpha Evon, and a decision to make between the rival twins, Ayra must choose her destiny and the future of her heart.
RATED 18+ (WARNING) - EXPLICIT SCENES. "Strip for me" the beastly alpha called, his voice echoed from his dark cell, causing a shiver to go down her body. She couldn't fight the way her body reacts to him. Her nipples harden from his touch. "I can smell your wetness omega" he mutters, his hands tracing under her skirt till he feels up her wet jeweled folds, causing a hiss from her lips as his fingers push in. He whispers to he ears, a voice filled the dangerous promise "you are mine" .******. Elise Aldermen is the daughter of the Silvernight Pack's chief alpha. She has waited her whole life for her marriage ceremony, hoping it would be the best day of her life. However, she gets the shock of a lifetime when her betrothed coldly rejects her and makes her a slave after finding out her true origins, even though they were already bound. Not Not only is she claimed to be a bastard on her mating day, but she is also disowned and rejected by her pack and mate. Elise's life turns into a nightmare as she is thrown into the dungeons as the cruel alpha's slave, only to be handed off to his greatest beastly champion, who dwells in the dark cells. Elise soon discovers that the beast she is now forced to be marked and bound to is more than a monster; this beastly alpha could also be her fated mate.
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"
Five years ago, he upped and left his wife without informing her. He had always felt unworthy. As a result, he decided to go and become a better man. It took him five whole years of daily hard work. When he was satisfied, he returned as a powerful and honorable man. He intended to start a family with his wife. But he got back to meet the greatest shocker of his life. He actually had a daughter!
Everyone was shocked to the bones when the news of Rupert Benton's engagement broke out. It was surprising because the lucky girl was said to be a plain Jane, who grew up in the countryside and had nothing to her name. One evening, she showed up at a banquet, stunning everyone present. "Wow, she's so beautiful!" All the men drooled, and the women got so jealous. What they didn't know was that this so-called country girl was actually an heiress to a billion-dollar empire. It wasn't long before her secrets came to light one after the other. The elites couldn't stop talking about her. "Holy smokes! So, her father is the richest man in the world?" "She's also that excellent, but mysterious designer who many people adore! Who would have guessed?" Nonetheless, people thought that Rupert didn't love her. But they were in for another surprise. Rupert released a statement, silencing all the naysayers. "I'm very much in love with my beautiful fiancee. We will be getting married soon." Two questions were on everyone's minds: "Why did she hide her identity? And why was Rupert in love with her all of a sudden?"
Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...