Books by "Theodore Goodridge Roberts"
12 books found
Northland Lyrics
by William Carman Roberts, Theodore Goodridge Roberts, Elizabeth Roberts MacDonald
1899 · Boston : Small Maynard
Samson's Mill Settlement had, for the past fifteen years, prided itself on its absolute respectability; and then came Reginald Baynes Rayton, with his unfailing good humor, his riding breeches, and constant "haw-haw"—and corrupted the community. So it happened that five representative men of the settlement, and Mr. Rayton, sat and played poker one October night in Rayton's snug living room. They had done it before—only last week, in fact—but the sense of guilty novelty had not yet worn off. Only Rayton and old Wigmore were absolutely at their ease. White beans had to do in the place of the usual chips. The standard of play was very moderate—a one-cent ante and a five-cent limit—but it seemed reckless to some of those representative citizens. "Jane questioned me pretty sharp, to-night," said Benjamin Samson, the owner of the mill that sawed lumber and ground buckwheat for the whole Beaver Brook valley; "but I give her a bagful of evasive answers. Yes, sir-ee! I guess she suspicioned something. She's been kinder expectin' me to fall from grace ever since she first married me." "Haw-haw!" brayed Mr. Rayton. "Mrs. Samson is a clever woman. She knows a bad egg, Benjamin, without having to break the shell." The others chuckled. "She ain't as smart as you think," replied Samson, awkwardly shuffling the cards, "for at last I said to her, 'I'm goin' to see Rayton,' says I. 'He's started a kinder lit'ry club for his male friends.' 'Then you'll learn no harm from him,' says she, 'for I'm sure his morals is as good as his manners. The way he lifts his hat to me is a regular treat. He knows what's my due, even if some other folks don't,' says she." Five men, including Samson himself, roared at this; but Rayton's haw-haw lacked, for once, its usual heartiness. "Oh, come now," he protested shamefacedly. "It's not just the thing to—to be making fun of a lady. Of course I raise my hat to Mrs. Samson. Proud to do it, I'm sure; and I'm glad she appreciates it. Harley, you are banker, I think. Pass me over fifty beans. Benjamin, when you've finished shoveling those cards about—I don't call it shuffling—give us a chance to cut for deal." Jim Harley, a shrewd man of about thirty years of age, who farmed in the summer and operated in the lumber woods, on a small but paying scale, in the winter months, counted out beans to the company in return for quarters and dimes. Samson shot the cards across the table, backs up, and every one drew. Old Captain Wigmore won the deal. He brought the cards together in a neat pile with one sweep of the hand, shuffled them swiftly and skillfully, and dealt so fast as to keep three in the air at once. It was a pleasure to watch him. Even Rayton was a fumbler with the pasteboards beside him. The six picked up their cards and looked at them, each in a way characteristic of him. Honest Benjamin, catching sight of two kings and feeling Doctor Nash's prying glance upon him, struggled to hide a smirk of satisfaction that was too strong for him. Rayton beamed; but that might mean anything. Old Wigmore's bewhiskered face expressed nothing, as usual. The other visages showed hope or disgust as plainly as if the words were printed across them. Discards were thrown to the centre of the table, and Wigmore distributed others.
In "Green Timber Thoroughbreds," Theodore Goodridge Roberts masterfully weaves a tapestry of life in the Canadian wilderness, offering readers a rich narrative that intertwines the equestrian world with the profound connections between humans and nature. Through vivid descriptions and engaging prose, Roberts captures the essence of the rugged landscape and its impact on both character and plot. The book, set against the backdrop of the early 20th century, mirrors the era's evolving attitudes towards nature and sport, showcasing a meticulous attention to detail that speaks to Roberts's depth of understanding of horse culture and rural life. Theodore Goodridge Roberts was a noted Canadian author and poet, whose profound admiration for nature and equestrian sports deeply influenced his writings. Born in 1861 in New Brunswick, Roberts's experiences as a rancher and a keen observer of rural life lend authenticity to his characters and settings. His connection with horses shaped not only his personal life but also his literary voice, enriching the narrative texture of "Green Timber Thoroughbreds". This book is a compelling read for those interested in the intersection of human emotion and nature, as well as fans of equestrian literature. Roberts's vivid storytelling and evocative imagery invite readers to immerse themselves in a world where the bonds formed between humans and horses shape destinies. "Green Timber Thoroughbreds" is a timeless exploration of themes of loyalty, courage, and the relentless beauty of the wild. In this enriched edition, we have carefully created added value for your reading experience: - Hand‐picked Memorable Quotes shine a spotlight on moments of literary brilliance. - Interactive footnotes clarify unusual references, historical allusions, and archaic phrases for an effortless, more informed read.
The Red Feathers: A Story of Remarkable Adventures When the World was Young And The Story of Red Feather: A Tale of the American Frontier
by Theodore Goodridge Roberts, Edward Sylvester Ellis
In the days of which I write, in the island now known as Newfoundland, men made prayers to the sun, the winds, the frost and the stars. They believed that giants lived in the north; that a great stag caribou, as high as a pine, haunted the wilds beyond the Narrow Sea to the west; that gods moved about in divers shapes, doing good or evil as their natures prompted them, and that certain wise and crafty men acquired a knowledge of magic and thereby became stronger than the greatest warriors. Fog, to these people, was the breath of an old god who lived to the eastward, just beneath the rim of the sea; and fire was a spirit,Ñthe offspring of a god,Ñthat sometimes was content to feed on the fagots cut for it, cooking food for men and warming their bodies, and sometimes leaped into the woods and consumed the forest for miles in an outburst of fury. A man of the Beothic race named Run-all-day had a lodge on the River of Three Fires, about half-way between its mouth and Wind Lake. There he lived only in the warmer months of the year. At the approach of winter he followed the great herds of caribou farther inland and southward, to the deeper forest and more sheltered barrens. During the summer he netted and speared the salmon in the River of Three Fires, feeding himself and his family on the flesh and smoking what could not be used then for their winter supply. Early in October, before starting on the inland journey, his wife and children gathered nuts and berries, while he hunted the fat caribou, which were already gathering in great herds preparatory to moving to the more sheltered feeding-grounds. With the venison and the berries his wife, Red Willow, made a rough sort of pemmican. Run-all-day was fleet of foot and strong of wind and leg. It was by his speed and endurance when a boy that he had won his name. He had also proved himself a warrior of prowess, when occasion demanded, and might have followed his father as chief of a clan; but the islanders happened to be entering on a long term of peace when he grew to manhood, so he took a wife from another village and journeyed away from his family. His wits were not as quick as his legs and he entertained no great ambitions of distinguishing himself. He was quite content to protect and provide for his familyÑto sleep warm and eat his fill all the year round and see them do the same. Of course, sometimes at the tail-end of a bad season, provisions ran low; but if any man could find game and bring it to the ground, it was Run-all-day. On a certain June evening, when the west was red and dusk was settling along the edges of the woods, Run-all-day withdrew his net of raw-hide thongs from a big pool four miles above his wigwam and seated himself on the grassy bank for a few minutesÕ rest before walking home. Nine great silver fish lay beside himÑa respectable load even for Run-all-day. To lessen their weight he had already slit them from throat to tail, with his flint knife, and tossed the entrails into the bushes. He was well satisfied with his afternoonÕs work, and sighed with contentment and a pleasant weariness.
The Red Pirogue: A Tale of Adventure in the Canadian Wilds
by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
2021 · Good Press
In "The Red Pirogue: A Tale of Adventure in the Canadian Wilds," Theodore Goodridge Roberts weaves a gripping narrative that invites readers into the vast, untamed beauty of Canada'Äôs wilderness. Through vivid descriptions and lyrical prose, Roberts captures not only the physical landscapes but also the spirit of adventure and exploration. The story highlights the resilience of its characters as they navigate the challenges of nature and their own interpersonal dynamics, reflecting a common theme in early 20th-century literature that grapples with the human experience in relation to the natural world. Roberts' masterful blend of adventure, camaraderie, and the perils of the wild serves as a compelling backdrop for an exploration of personal growth and discovery. Theodore Goodridge Roberts, a noted Canadian author and poet, drew inspiration from his own experiences and deep affinity for the outdoors, often capturing the rugged beauty of the Canadian landscape in his writings. His work often reflects his love for adventure and the intricate relationship between humanity and nature. Roberts'Äô background as a traveler and a keen observer of life in the wild lends authenticity to the novel, making it a distinctive contribution to Canadian literature. This enthralling tale is highly recommended for readers who appreciate adventure narratives, naturalistic descriptions, and explorations of personal courage. It offers not just an escape into the wilderness, but also an invitation to reflect on one'Äôs own connection to nature and the adventure of life itself.