Tale Teller Book Club™

Allegretto Right Hand Page 2 Piano Suzuki Bk 1 free downloads School of Music Class with Sarnia

part 3 of today's lessons for piano

part 2

Practice or listen with accompaniment guitar and metronome.

Perfect to dip one's toe into the wonderful world of historic literature.

Perfect for teachers and students as well as intellectual listeners.
Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, volume 11
by Various

Publication date 2021-03-04
Usage Public Domain Mark 1.0Creative Commons Licensepublicdomain
Topics librivox, audiobooks,
LibriVox recording of Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, volume 11 by Various.
Read in English by Larry Wilson; Shreya Sethi; Owlivia; DJRickyV; Michael Channon; Dick Bourgeois-Doyle; Colleen McMahon; Rita Boutros; Kristine Bekere; ToddHW; Availle; Meg Huskin; Chris Pyle; Alan Mapstone; jenno; Siler Weaver
The Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, is a work of enormous proportions. Setting out with the simple goal of offering "American households a mass of good reading", the editors drew from literature of all times and all kinds what they considered the best pieces of human writing, and compiled an ambitious collection of 45 volumes (with a 46th being an index-guide). Besides the selection and translation of a huge number of poems, letters, short stories and sections of books, the collection offers, before each chapter, a short essay about the author or subject in question. In many cases, chapters contemplate not one author, but certain groups of works, organized by nationality, subject or period; there is, thus, a chapter on Accadian-Babylonian literature, one on the Holy Grail, and one on Chansons, for example. The result is a collection that holds the interest, for the variety of subjects and forms, but also as a means of first contact with such famous and important authors that many people have heard of, but never read, such as Abelard, Dante or Lord Byron. According to the editor Charles Dudley Warner, this collection "is not a library of reference only, but a library to be read." This eleventh volume contains chapters from "Dana" to "Dickens". (Summary by Leni) - Summary by Leni
For further information, including links to online text, reader information, RSS feeds, CD cover or other formats (if available), please go to the LibriVox catalog page for this recording.

For more free audio books or to become a volunteer reader, visit librivox.org.

The final episode, hope you enjoyed our first book, we are uploading lots more from the Tale Teller Library especially for weekends of relaxing with your headphones.

chapter 9 of a phantom lover by vernon lee this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org

i had begun mrs oak's portrait and she was giving me a sitting she was unusually quiet that morning but it seemed to me with the quietness of a woman who is expecting something and she gave me the impression of being extremely happy she had been reading at my suggestion the vita nuova which she did not know before and the conversation came to turn upon that and upon the question whether loves so abstract and so enduring were a possibility such a discussion which might have savored of flirtation in the case of almost any other young and beautiful woman became in the case of mrs oak something quite different it seemed distant intangible not of this earth like her smile and the look in her eyes such love as that she said looking into the far distance of the oak dotted parkland is very rare but it can exist it becomes a person's whole existence his whole soul and it can survive the death not merely of the beloved but of the lover it is unextinguishable and goes on in the spiritual world until it meet a reincarnation of the beloved and when this happens it jets out and draws to it all that may remain of the lover's soul and takes shape and surrounds the beloved one once more

mrs oak was speaking slowly almost to herself and i had never i think seen her look so strange and so beautiful this stiff white dress bringing out but the more the exotic exquisiteness and incorporeal-ness of her person i did not know what to answer so i said half and jest i fear you have been reading too much buddhist literature mrs oak there is something dreadfully esoteric in all you say she smiled contemptuously i know people can't understand such matters she replied and was silent for some time but through her quietness and silence i felt as it were the throb of a strange excitement in this woman almost as if i had been holding her pulse still i was in hopes that things might be beginning to go better in consequence of my interference mrs oak had scarcely once alluded to love luck in the last two or three days and oak had been much more cheerful and natural since our conversation he no longer seemed so worried and once or twice i had caught in him a look of great gentleness and loving kindness almost of pity as towards some young and very frail thing as he sat opposite his wife but the end had come after that sitting mrs oak had complained of fatigue and retired to her room and oak had driven off on some business to the nearest town i felt all alone in the big house and after having worked a little at a sketch i was making in the park i amused myself rambling about the house

it was a warm innervating autumn afternoon the kind of weather that brings the perfume out of everything the damp ground and fallen leaves the flowers and the jars the old woodwork and stuffs that seems to bring on to the surface of one's consciousness all manner of vague recollections and expectations a something half pleasurable half painful that makes it impossible to do or to think i was the prey of this particular not at all unpleasurable restlessness i wandered up and down the corridors stopping to look at the pictures which i knew already in every detail to follow the pattern of the carving and old stuffs to stare at the autumn flowers arranged in magnificent masses of color in the big china bowls and jars i took up one book after another and threw it aside then i sat down to the piano and began to play irrelevant fragments i felt quite alone although i had heard the grind of the wheels on the gravel which meant that my host had returned i was lazily turning over a book of verses i...

The penultimate episode of our free download novel from the Tale Teller Club Library.

chapter 8 of a phantom lover by vernon lee this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org

it became clear to me now that incredible as it might seem the thing that ailed william oak was jealousy he was simply madly in love with his wife and madly jealous of her jealous but of whom he himself would probably have been quite unable to say in the first place to clear off any possible suspicion certainly not of me besides the fact that mrs oak took only just a very little more interest in me than in the butler or the upper house made i think that oak himself was the sort of man whose imagination would recoil from realizing any definite object of jealousy even though jealousy might be killing him inch by inch it remained a vague permeating continuous feeling the feeling that he loved her and she did not care a jack straw about him and that everything with which she came into contact was receiving some of that notice which was refused to him every person or thing or tree or stone it was the recognition of that strange far-off look in mrs oak's eyes of that strange absent smile on mrs oak's lips eyes and lips that had no look and no smile for him gradually his nervousness his watchfulness suspiciousness tendency to start took a definite shape mr oak was forever alluding to steps or voices he had heard to figures he had seen sneaking around the house the sudden bark of one of the dogs would make him jump up he cleaned and loaded very carefully all the guns and revolvers in his study and even some of the old fouling pieces and holster pistols in the hall the servants and tenants thought that oak of oakhurst had been seized with a terror of tramps and burglars mrs oak smiled contemptuously at all these doings my dear william she said one day the persons who worry you have just as good a right to walk up and down the passages and staircase and to hang about the house as you or i they were there in all probability long before either of us was born and are greatly amused by your preposterous notions of privacy mr oak laughed angrily i suppose you will tell me it is love luck your eternal love lock whose steps i hear on the gravel every night i suppose he has as good a right to be here as you or i and he strode out of the room love luck lovelock why will she always go on like that about lovelock mr oak asked me that evening suddenly staring me in the face i merely laughed it's only because she has that play of his on the brain i answered and because she thinks you superstitious and likes to tease you i don't understand side oak how could he and if i had tried to make him do so he would merely have thought i was insulting his wife and have perhaps kicked me out of the room so i made no attempt to explain psychological problems to him and he asked me no more questions until once but i must first mention a curious incident that happened the incident was simply this returning one afternoon from our usual walk mr oak suddenly asked the servant whether anyone had come the answer was in the negative but oak did not seem satisfied we had hardly sat down to dinner when he turned to his wife and asked in a strange voice which i scarcely recognized as his own who had called that afternoon no one answered mrs oak at least to the best of my knowledge william oak looked at her fixedly no one he repeated in a scrutinizing tone no one alice mrs oak shook her head no one she replied there was a pause who was it then that was walking with you near the pond about five o'clock asked oak slowly his wife lifted her eyes straight to his and answered contemptuously no one was walking with me near the pond at five o'clock or any other hour mr oak turned purple and made a curious hoarse noise like a man choking i i thought i saw you walking with a man this...

A great book from the public Domain which can be shared and enjoyed by all.

chapter 7 of a phantom lover by vernon lee this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org

from that moment i noticed a change in william oak or rather a change that had probably been coming on for some time got to this stage of being noticeable i don't know whether he had any words with his wife about her masquerade of that unlucky evening on the whole i decidedly think not oak was with everyone a diffident and reserved man and most of also with his wife besides i can fancy that he would experience a positive impossibility of putting into words any strong feeling of disapprobation towards her that is disgust would necessarily be silent but be this as it may i perceived very soon that the relations between my host and hostess had become exceedingly strained mrs oak indeed had never paid much attention to her husband and seemed merely a trifle more indifferent to his presence than she had been before but oak himself although he affected to address her at meals from a desire to conceal his feeling and a fear of making the position disagreeable to me very clearly could scarcely bear to speak to or even see his wife the poor fellow's honest soul was quite brim full of pain which he was determined not to permit to overflow and which seemed to filter into his whole nature and poison it this woman had shocked and pained him more than was possible to say and yet it was evident that he could neither cease loving her nor commence comprehending her real nature i sometimes felt as we took our long walks through the monotonous country across the oak dotted grazing grounds and by the brink of the dull green series hopros talking at rare intervals about the value of the crops the drainage of the estate the village schools the primrose league and the iniquities of mr gladstone while ochovo cursed carefully cut down every tall thistle that caught his eye i sometimes felt i say an intense and impotent desire to enlighten this man about his wife's character

i seem to understand it so well and to understand it well seemed to imply such a comfortable acquiescence and it seems so unfair that just he should be condemned to puzzle forever over this enigma and wear out his soul trying to comprehend what now seems so plain to me but how would it ever be possible to make the serious conscientious slow-brained representative of english simplicity and honesty and thoroughness understand the mixture of self-engrossed vanity of shallowness of poetic vision of love and morbid excitement that walked this earth under the name of alice oak so okavo cursed was condemned never to understand but he was condemned also to suffer from his inability to do so the poor fellow was constantly straining after an explanation of his wife's peculiarities and although the effort was probably unconscious it caused him a great deal of pain the gash the maniac frown as my friends call it between his eyebrows seemed to have grown a permanent feature of his face mrs oak on her side was making the very worst of this situation perhaps she resented her husband's tacit reproval of that masquerade night's freak and determined to make him swallow more of the same stuff for she clearly thought that one of william's peculiarities and one for which he despised him was that he could never be goaded into an outspoken expression of disapprobation that from her he would swallow any amount of bitterness without complaining at any rate she now adopted a perfect policy of teasing and shocking her husband about the murder of lovelock she was perpetually alluding to it in her conversation discussing in his presence what had or had not been the feelings of the various actors in the tragedy of 1626 and insisting upon her resemblance to and almost identity with the original alice oak something had...