検索キーワード： ナレーター "John Rayburn" すべてのカテゴリー

Victoria Van Allen was the name she signed to her letters and to her cheques, but Vicky Van, as her friends called her, was signed all over her captivating personality, from the top of her dainty, tossing head to the tips of her dainty, dancing feet. Young lawyer Chester Calhoun liked her from the first, and if her “small and earlies” were said to be so called because they were timed by the small and early numerals on the clock dial, and if her “little” bridge games kept in active circulation a goodly share of our country’s legal tender, those things are not crimes.

A young lawyer who is a bachelor by choice winds up as consulting attorney for a beautiful woman, who is considered perhaps guilty of the murder of her wealthy uncle. He is Otis Landon, who lives with his sister in an apartment next to scene of the crime. Otis is very intelligent and works with a collection of clues found at the scene of the murder. In doing so, he becomes involved and winds up trying to clear the young woman he finds he’s falling in love with. He reaches the limits of his abilities, with the case winding up in the hands of renowned detective Fleming Stone.

Do you like to fly? If so, this is a great story that lets you in on the way things were in the early days of aviation, including the excitement and wonder of what it was like in the beginning. It all happens as a young inventor has hopes and dreams of breaking records with the new-fangled means of transportation. Along the way, he encounters not only dangerous weather conditions but also unscrupulous rival inventors. In spite of such hurdles to clear, the hero overcomes them with ambition and perseverance.

Just what is nostalgia? Here are provocative and exciting stories about a great period of popular music. It was a time when the nation was facing desperate days of the Great Depression as well on-going fears of a World War. The still young radio industry was a major force in helping provide a worried nation with a source of entertainment and comfort. The author/narrator had conversation/interviews with many of the major stars and he tells you about their talent and their wonderful music. It’s as though you’re sitting there listening as to one of the most memorable eras in the nation’s history.

“Oh, I want to go back to the Rio Grande! The Rio! That’s where I long to be!” The words, sung in a soft and musical tenor, died away and changed to a plaintive whistle, leaving the scene more lonely than ever. For a few moments nothing was to be seen except the endless expanse of wilderness, and nothing was to be heard save the mournful warble of the singer. Then a horse and rider were suddenly framed where the sparse timber opened out upon the plain. Together, man and mount made a striking picture; yet it would have been hard to say which was the more picturesque—the rider or the horse.

Overall, those who loved Penny Parker overlooked her casual ways and flippant speech. These largely resulted from her dad having taught her to think straight. She sometimes had to wait a few minutes before gathering sufficient courage to continue battling whatever setbacks might come her way. Her mother died when Penny was only a three-year-old child, but she was, as she said, “on my own, with a vengeance.” This largely resulted from the loving care of her newspaper owner/editor father, Anthony Parker, who never remarried

A myth-like feeling is engendered by dining in Le Jules Verne restaurant in the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It helps stir an appetite for sensational adventures. In this book, Verne used first person narration by top-notch fictional scholar, Professor Aronnax, who is aided by his servant Conseil. They voyage on the Nautilus submarine of Captain Nemo, a man with feelings of omnipotence and obsession for power.

Hathelsborough marketplace lies in the middle of the town—a long, somewhat narrow parallelogram, enclosed on its longer side by old gabled houses; shut in on its western end by the massive bulk of the great parish church of St. Hathelswide, Virgin and Martyr, and at its eastern by the ancient walls and high roofs of its medieval Moot Hall. The inner surface of this space is paved with cobble-stones, worn smooth by centuries of usage.

On the southern edge of the populous parish of Paddington, England, in a parallelogram bounded by Oxford and Cambridge Terrace on the south, Praed Street on the north, and by Edgware Road on the east and Spring Street on the west, lies an assemblage of mean streets, the drab dullness of which forms a remarkable contrast to the pretentious architectural grandeurs of Sussex Square and Lancaster Gate, close by. In these streets the observant will always find all those evidences of depressing semi-poverty which are more evident in London than in any other English city.

Wallace, a master British storyteller, creates a fascinating tale. It tells of the fictional mystery author, John Lexdale, who is caught in a plot concocted by an unscrupulous millionaire. The fictional author is entrapped in the strange circumstances, becomes charged with murder and sentenced to prison. At one point he is told his wife has been killed and pledges revenge.

Here is a land where a man, to live, must be a man. It is a land of granite and marble, strong stone and gold—and a man’s strength must be as the strength of the primeval hills. It is a land of oaks and cedars and pines—and a man’s mental grace must be as the grace of the untamed trees. It is a land of far-arched and unstained skies, where the wind sweeps free and untainted, and the atmosphere is the atmosphere of those places that remain as God made them—and a man’s soul must be as the unstained skies, the unburdened wind, and the untainted atmosphere.

The idea that the extraordinary narrative which has been called the Joyce-Armstrong Fragment is an elaborate practical joke evolved by some unknown person, cursed by a perverted and sinister sense of humor, has now been abandoned by all who have examined the matter. The most macabre and imaginative of plotters would hesitate before linking his morbid fancies with the unquestioned and tragic facts which reinforce the statement. Though the assertions contained in it are amazing and even monstrous, it is nonetheless forcing itself upon the general intelligence that they are true.

In truth the mastery of flying was the work of thousands of men—this man a suggestion and that an experiment, until at last only one vigorous intellectual effort was needed to finish the work. But the inexorable injustice of the popular mind has decided that of all these thousands, one man, and that a man who never flew, should be chosen as the discoverer, just as it has chosen to honor Watt as the discoverer of steam and Stephenson of the steam-engine.

The ferry-boat was waiting when Rebecca Flint got off the train with her bag and lunch basket. When she and her small trunk were safely embarked she sat stiff and straight and calm in the ferry-boat as it shot swiftly and smoothly across stream. There was a horse attached to a light country wagon on board, and he pawed the deck uneasily. His owner stood near, with a wary eye upon him, although he was chewing, with as dully reflective an expression as a cow.

The fiction world of today needs a “Saint” more than it ever did. For years now that scene has been dominated by the “anti-heroes"—those grim gray operators in a sunless sub-culture where global issues are worked out with totally unemotional pragmatism, those hapless uninspired puppets manipulated and expended by ruthlessly dedicated little brothers of Big Brother. It made morbidly fascinating narrative, but it never gave anyone a lift until it climaxed in the hyper-gadgeted parodies of 007 extravaganzas.

The chief character, Lord Peter Wimsey, goes to the Bellona Club to have a meal with an old friend of his, ninety-year old General Fentiman. In great surprise, he finds the aged man fully dressed by the fire in full rigor mortis. A question arises concerning the time of death and the situation develops into a serious murder investigation. Wimsey sometimes seemed to have a supercilious attitude as a monocled aristocrat and sometimes became a sort of professional detective. His family motto was, “As my whimsy takes me.”

If it had not rained on a certain May morning, Valancy Stirling’s whole life would have been entirely different. She would have gone, with the rest of her clan, to Aunt Wellington’s engagement picnic and Dr. Trent would have gone to Montreal. But it did rain and you shall hear what happened to her because of it. Valancy wakened early, in the lifeless, hopeless hour just preceding dawn. She had not slept very well.

One January day, many years ago, the little town of Hanover, anchored on a windy Nebraska tableland, was trying not to be blown away. A mist of fine snowflakes was curling and eddying about the cluster of low drab buildings huddled on the gray prairie, under a gray sky. The dwelling-houses were set about haphazard on the tough prairie sod; some of them looked as if they had been moved in overnight, and others as if they were straying off by themselves, headed straight for the open plain. None of them had any appearance of permanence, and the howling wind blew under them as well as over them.

Shore Road has a bunch of auto thefts outside Bayport, home territory of the Hardy Boys, Frank and Joe. They find out that one of their friends, Jack Dodd and his father, have been accused of the thefts. This bothers the lads because they feel certain there has been a big mistake and they intend to do something about it. As a result of their intentions and investigation the Hardy Boys wind up helping in capture of the actual car thieves who had framed and kidnapped their friends. It’s exciting listening as they work hard to aid the Dodds, father and son.

Penny’s father is a newspaper owner being sued for libel in his home base of New York. He sends her on a western ski vacation in order to avoid the legalities, but she manages to gain entrance to a room with a mysterious Green Door, an entrance to an illegal fur importation racket from Canada. The culprits turn out to be those pursuing the libel situation back east. She is threatened with possible death, but not only solves the fur racket but winds up scooping a rival reporter.