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An Outpost Of Progress An Outpost Of Progress

An Outpost Of Progress
IThere were two white men in charge of the trading station. Kayerts, the chief, was short and fat; Carlier, the assistant, was tall, with a large head and a very broad trunk perched upon a long pair of thin legs. The third man on the staff was a Sierra Leone nigger, who maintained that his name was Henry Price. However, for some reason or other, the natives down the river had given him the name of Makola, and it stuck to him through all his wanderings about the country. He spoke English and French with a warbling accent, wrote a beautiful... Short Stories - Post by : dallas02 - Date : February 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 3704

The Return The Return

The Return
The inner circle train from the City rushed impetuously out of a black hole and pulled up with a discordant, grinding racket in the smirched twilight of a West-End station. A line of doors flew open and a lot of men stepped out headlong. They had high hats, healthy pale faces, dark overcoats and shiny boots; they held in their gloved hands thin umbrellas and hastily folded evening papers that resembled stiff, dirty rags of greenish, pinkish, or whitish colour. Alvan Hervey stepped out with the rest, a smouldering cigar between his teeth. A disregarded little woman in rusty black, with... Short Stories - Post by : jbintcorp - Date : February 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1983

To-morrow To-morrow

To-morrow
What was known of Captain Hagberd in the little seaport of Colebrook was not exactly in his favour. He did not belong to the place. He had come to settle there under circumstances not at all mysterious--he used to be very communicative about them at the time--but extremely morbid and unreasonable. He was possessed of some little money evidently, because he bought a plot of ground, and had a pair of ugly yellow brick cottages run up very cheaply. He occupied one of them himself and let the other to Josiah Carvil--blind Carvil, the retired boat-builder--a man of... Short Stories - Post by : Donbaba - Date : February 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 4149

The Planter Of Malata The Planter Of Malata

The Planter Of Malata
CHAPTER IIn the private editorial office of the principal newspaper in a great colonial city two men were talking. They were both young. The stouter of the two, fair, and with more of an urban look about him, was the editor and part-owner of the important newspaper.The other's name was Renouard. That he was exercised in his mind about something was evident on his fine bronzed face. He was a lean, lounging, active man. The journalist continued the conversation."And so you were dining yesterday at old Dunster's."He used the word old not in the endearing sense in... Short Stories - Post by : jmenet - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 2143

The Partner The Partner

The Partner
"And that be hanged for a silly yarn. The boatmen here in Westport have been telling this lie to the summer visitors for years. The sort that gets taken out for a row at a shilling a head--and asks foolish questions--must be told something to pass the time away. D'ye know anything more silly than being pulled in a boat along a beach? . . . It's like drinking weak lemonade when you aren't thirsty. I don't know why they do it! They don't even get sick."A forgotten glass of beer stood at his elbow; the locality... Short Stories - Post by : webstuff2u03 - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 3501

The Inn Of The Two Witches - A Find The Inn Of The Two Witches - A Find

The Inn Of The Two Witches - A Find
This tale, episode, experience--call it how you will--was related in the fifties of the last century by a man who, by his own confession, was sixty years old at the time. Sixty is not a bad age--unless in perspective, when no doubt it is contemplated by the majority of us with mixed feelings. It is a calm age; the game is practically over by then; and standing aside one begins to remember with a certain vividness what a fine fellow one used to be. I have observed that, by an amiable attention of Providence, most people at sixty... Short Stories - Post by : Edo_Rajh - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1507

Because Of The Dollars Because Of The Dollars

Because Of The Dollars
CHAPTER IWhile we were hanging about near the water's edge, as sailors idling ashore will do (it was in the open space before the Harbour Office of a great Eastern port), a man came towards us from the "front" of business houses, aiming obliquely at the landing steps. He attracted my attention because in the movement of figures in white drill suits on the pavement from which he stepped, his costume, the usual tunic and trousers, being made of light grey flannel, made him noticeable.I had time to observe him. He was stout, but he was not grotesque. His face... Short Stories - Post by : agreement - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 2180

The Lagoon The Lagoon

The Lagoon
The white man, leaning with both arms over the roof of the little house in the stern of the boat, said to the steersman--"We will pass the night in Arsat's clearing. It is late."The Malay only grunted, and went on looking fixedly at the river. The white man rested his chin on his crossed arms and gazed at the wake of the boat. At the end of the straight avenue of forests cut by the intense glitter of the river, the sun appeared unclouded and dazzling, poised low over the water that shone smoothly like a band of metal. The forests,... Short Stories - Post by : Scott_Foster - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1745

Gaspar Ruiz Gaspar Ruiz

Gaspar Ruiz
IA REVOLUTIONARY war raises many strange characters out of the obscurity which is the common lot of humble lives in an undisturbed state of society.Certain individualities grow into fame through their vices and their virtues, or simply by their actions, which may have a temporary importance; and then they become forgotten. The names of a few leaders alone survive the end of armed strife and are further preserved in history; so that, vanishing from men's active memories, they still exist in books.The name of General Santierra attained that cold paper-and-ink immortality. He was a South American of good family, and the... Short Stories - Post by : revathijohn - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1709

The Informer The Informer

The Informer
An Ironic TaleMR. X came to me, preceded by a letter of introduction from a good friend of mine in Paris, specifically to see my collection of Chinese bronzes and porcelain.My friend in Paris is a collector, too. He collects neither porcelain, nor bronzes, nor pictures, nor medals, nor stamps, nor anything that could be profitably dispersed under an auctioneer's hammer. He would reject, with genuine surprise, the name of a collector. Nevertheless, that's what he is by temperament. He collects acquaintances. It is delicate work. He brings to it the patience, the passion, the determination of a true collector of... Short Stories - Post by : mekell - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1569

The Brute The Brute

The Brute
An Indignant TaleDODGING in from the rain-swept street, I exchanged a smile and a glance with Miss Blank in the bar of the Three Crows. This exchange was effected with extreme propriety. It is a shock to think that, if still alive, Miss Blank must be something over sixty now. How time passes!Noticing my gaze directed inquiringly at the partition of glass and varnished wood, Miss Blank was good enough to say, encouragingly:"Only Mr. Jermyn and Mr. Stonor in the parlour with another gentleman I've never seen before."I moved towards the parlour door. A voice discoursing on the other side (it... Short Stories - Post by : mglaser - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 2508

An Anarchist An Anarchist

An Anarchist
A desperate taleTHAT year I spent the best two months of the dry season on one of the estates -- in fact, on the principal cattle estate -- of a famous meat-extract manufacturing company.B.O.S. Bos. You have seen the three magic letters on the advertisement pages of magazines and newspapers, in the windows of provision merchants, and on calendars for next year you receive by post in the month of November. They scatter pamphlets also, written in a sickly enthusiastic style and in several languages, giving statistics of slaughter and bloodshed enough to make a Turk turn faint. The "art" illustrating... Short Stories - Post by : 36161 - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1417

The Duel (the Point Of Honor: A Military Tale) The Duel (the Point Of Honor: A Military Tale)

The Duel (the Point Of Honor: A Military Tale)
INAPOLEON I., whose career had the quality of a duel against the whole of Europe, disliked duelling between the officers of his army. The great military emperor was not a swashbuckler, and had little respect for tradition.Nevertheless, a story of duelling, which became a legend in the army, runs through the epic of imperial wars. To the surprise and admiration of their fellows, two officers, like insane artists trying to gild refined gold or paint the lily, pursued a private contest through the years of universal carnage. They were officers of cavalry, and their connection with the high-spirited but fanciful animal... Short Stories - Post by : Shawn_Mason - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 1827

Il Conde Il Conde

Il Conde
A pathetic tale"Vedi Napoli e poi mori."THE first time we got into conversation was in the National Museum in Naples, in the rooms on the ground floor containing the famous collection of bronzes from Herculaneum and Pompeii: that marvellous legacy of antique art whose delicate perfection has been preserved for us by the catastrophic fury of a volcano.He addressed me first, over the celebrated Resting Hermes which we had been looking at side by side. He said the right things about that wholly admirable piece. Nothing profound. His taste was natural rather than cultivated. He had obviously seen many fine things... Short Stories - Post by : dnanev - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 3845

Falk: A Reminiscence Falk: A Reminiscence

Falk: A Reminiscence
Several of us, all more or less connected with the sea, were dining in a small river-hostelry not more than thirty miles from London, and less than twenty from that shallow and dangerous puddle to which our coasting men give the grandiose name of "German Ocean." And through the wide windows we had a view of the Thames; an enfilading view down the Lower Hope Reach. But the dinner was execrable, and all the feast was for the eyes.That flavour of salt-water which for so many of us had been the very water of life permeated our talk.... Short Stories - Post by : smashface - Date : January 2010 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 2936

Youth, A Narrative Youth, A Narrative

Youth, A Narrative
THIS could have occurred nowhere but in England men and sea interpenetrate, so to speak--the sea entering into the life of most men, and the men know- ing something or everything about the sea, in the way of amusement, of travel, or of bread-winning.We were sitting round a mahogany table that reflected the bottle, the claret-glasses, and our faces as we leaned on our elbows. There was a director of companies, an accountant, a lawyer, Marlow, and myself. The direc- tor had been a CONWAY boy, the accountant had served four years at sea, the lawyer--a fine crusted... Short Stories - Post by : petertaylor - Date : October 2009 - Author : Joseph Conrad - Read : 3867