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“Seth”
“Seth”
“Seth”
Ebook32 pages29 minutes

“Seth”

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Frances Hodgson Burnett was an English author best known for writing some of the greatest children’s novels in literature.  Some of Burnett’s works have been turned into popular plays.  This edition of “Seth” includes a table of contents.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 22, 2018
ISBN9781518346514
“Seth”
Author

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Frances Hodgson Burnett (1849–1924) was an English-American author and playwright. She is best known for her incredibly popular novels for children, including Little Lord Fauntleroy, A Little Princess, and The Secret Garden.

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    Book preview

    “Seth” - Frances Hodgson Burnett

    SETH

    ..................

    Frances Hodgson Burnett

    KYPROS PRESS

    Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

    This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

    All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

    Copyright © 2015 by Frances Hodgson Burnett

    Interior design by Pronoun

    Distribution by Pronoun

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Seth

    SETH

    ..................

    HE CAME IN ONE EVENING at sun set with the empty coal-train—his dull young face pale and heavy-eyed with weariness, his corduroy suit dusty and travel-stained, his worldly possessions tied up in the smallest of handkerchief bundles and slung upon the stick resting on his shoulder—and naturally his first appearance attracted some attention among the loungers about the shed dignified by the title of dépôt. I say naturally, because arrivals upon the trains to Black Creek were so scarce as to be regarded as curiosities; which again might be said to be natural. The line to the mines had been in existence two months, since the English company had taken them in hand and pushed the matter through with an energy startling to, and not exactly approved by, the majority of good East Tennesseeans. After the first week or so of arrivals—principally Welsh and English miners, with an occasional Irishman—the trains had returned daily to the Creek without a passenger; and accordingly this one created some trifling sensation.

    Not that his outward appearance was particularly interesting or suggestive of approaching excitement. He was only a lad of nineteen or twenty, in working English-cut garb, and with a short, awkward figure, and a troubled, homely face—a face so homely and troubled, in fact, that its half-bewildered look was almost pathetic.

    He advanced toward the shed hesitatingly, and touched his cap as if half in clumsy courtesy and half in timid appeal. Mesters, he said, good-day to yo’.

    The company bestirred themselves with one accord, and to the roughest and most laconic gave him a brief Good-day.

    You’re English, said a good-natured Welshman, ar’n’t you, my lad?

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