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A Chariot of Fire
A Chariot of Fire
A Chariot of Fire
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A Chariot of Fire

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"A Chariot of Fire" by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps
Phelps made a name for herself as a devout writer who wasn't afraid to stand up for her beliefs, if not literally, then through her work. A Chariot of Fire is a perfect example of her tenacity. Taking place in Massachusetts, the story follows Batty through the night, interacting with his friends and neighbors as he unravels news that everyone seems to know but him.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherGood Press
Release dateDec 12, 2019
ISBN4064066207694
A Chariot of Fire

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    Book preview

    A Chariot of Fire - Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

    Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

    A Chariot of Fire

    Published by Good Press, 2019

    goodpress@okpublishing.info

    EAN 4064066207694

    Table of Contents

    A CHARIOT OF FIRE

    ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS

    ILLUSTRATIONS

    A CHARIOT OF FIRE

    I'VE GOT TO GET TO GLOUCESTER, SIR!

    A CHARIOT OF FIRE

    Table of Contents

    BY

    ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS

    Table of Contents

    ILLUSTRATED

    HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

    NEW YORK AND LONDON

    MCMX

    Copyright, 1905, 1910, by HARPER & BROTHERS

    Published October, 1910.

    Printed in the United States of America

    ILLUSTRATIONS

    Table of Contents

    I've Got to Get to Gloucester, Sir!Frontispiece

    The Flowers in the Front Yard were Knee-Deep in Snow

    A CHARIOT OF FIRE

    Table of Contents

    When the White Mountain express to Boston stopped at Beverly, it slowed op reluctantly, crashed off the baggage, and dashed on with the nervousness of a train that is unmercifully and unpardonably late.

    It was a September night, and the channel of home-bound summer travel was clogged and heaving.

    A middle-aged man—a plain fellow, who was one of the Beverly passengers—stood for a moment staring at the tracks. The danger-light from the rear of the onrushing train wavered before his eyes, and looked like a splash of blood that was slowly wiped out by the night. It was foggy, and the atmosphere clung like a sponge.

    No, he muttered, it's the other way. Batty's the other way.

    He turned, facing towards the branch road which carries the great current of North Shore life.

    How soon can I get to Gloucester? he demanded of one who brushed against him heavily. He who answered proved to be of the baggage staff, and was at that moment skilfully combining a frown and a whistle behind a towering truck; from this two trunks and a dress-suit case

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