Guide The Reluctant Heir (The Regimental Heroes Series Book 2)

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Robert Jordan, the Wheel of Time series. To be avoided The best parts are ripoffs from King Arthur and Camelot. An early, weak effort by Kay. His later books are said to be much better. Jones, the Book of Words trilogy. Too much reference to a girl's menses. Overuse of the "dropped cup" device to indicate surprise. Author's first effort, apparently. Jones' work has improved, according to rumors I've heard. Reply Thread.

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Re: Recommended books and series. Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana.

The Heir of Redclyffe, by Charlotte M. Yonge

Kay performs much better in his novel Tigana than he did in his Fionavar trilogy. Reply Parent Thread. Feist's stories losing quality. Feist's fantasy writing has been among the very best storytelling in the English language.

The Reluctant Heir (The Regimental Heroes Series Book 2)

I've read all those books, and most of the later ones. And unfortunately, it was right about when Feist's storytelling began a slow decline in quality, primarily in the matter of holding the reader's interest. While the Conclave of Shadows series is still pretty good, it isn't in the same league as his earlier fantasy work. And from there it gets worse, as you go through the Darkwar Saga and into what has been released of the Demonwar Saga, book two of which latter is just plain bad, judging by its reviews on Amazon.

I have not read that particular book yet, and I have decided never to buy it.

Last time Philip stayed here, every step cost an argument, till at last, through sheer exhaustion, I left myself a dead weight on his hands, to be carried up by main strength. And after all, he is such a great, strong fellow, that I am afraid he did not mind it; so next time I crutched myself down alone, and I hope that did provoke him. Charlotte began. And Mary, he has cured Bustle of hunting my Puss. We held them up to each other, and Puss hissed horribly, but Bustle did not mind it a bit; and the other day, when Charles tried to set him at her, he would not take the least notice.

Tea over, Laura proposed the game of definitions. It must be charming! Johnson must be the hand for them. Come, Maurice, define an Irishman. We are each to write a definition on a slip of paper, then compare them. The game was carried on with great spirit for more than an hour. It was hard to say, which made most fun, Maurice, Charles, or Guy; the last no longer a spectator, but an active contributor to the sport.

When the break-up came, Mary and Amabel were standing over the table together, collecting the scattered papers, and observing that it had been very good fun. How very sad! I should not like to think so. And he was so merry all the time! This is his, too, I see; this one about riches being the freight for which the traveller is responsible. The Rosses were the last to depart, Mary in cloak and clogs, while Mr. Edmonstone lamented that it was in vain to offer the carriage; and Mary laughed, and thanked, and said the walk home with Papa was the greatest of treats in the frost and star-light.

Would it if I saw more of it? May I see that again? I mean—. You know he has never been at school; so his thoughts come out in security of sympathy, without fear of being laughed at.

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But it is very late. Good night. The frost turned to rain the next morning, and the torrents streamed against the window, seeming to have a kind of attraction for Philip and Guy, who stood watching them. Guy wondered if the floods would be out at Redclyffe and his cousins were interested by his description of the sudden, angry rush of the mountain streams, eddying fiercely along, bearing with them tree and rock, while the valleys became lakes, and the little mounds islets; and the trees looked strangely out of proportion when only their branches were visible.

It was very foolish, for the stream was too strong—I was two years younger then. Do anything but take liberties with Horace! No one heard but Triton, the old Newfoundland dog, who presently came swimming up, so eager to help, poor fellow, that I thought he would have throttled me, or hurt himself in the branches. I took off my handkerchief and threw it to him, telling him to take it to Arnaud, who I knew would understand it as a signal of distress.

I had been very angry at his beating our old hound, for, as he thought, worrying his sheep; not that Dart ever did, though. And think of the power of those words of hers over that gloomy, desperate man. Every subject seemed to excite Guy to a dangerous extent, as Laura thought, and she turned to Philip to ask if he would not read to them again. Note the tokens of divine grace, His ardent eyes, what a spirit, what a countenance is His; yet His very resemblance to His mother denotes sufficiently that He is of us and takes care for us.

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Beneath are two figures adoring, each in their own manner. On one side is a pontiff, on the other a virgin each a most sweet and solemn example, the one of aged, the other of maidenly piety and reverence. Between, are two winged boys, evidently presenting a wonderful pattern of childlike piety.

Their eyes, indeed, are not turned towards the Virgin, but both in face and gesture, they show how careless of themselves they are in the presence of God. All were struck by the description.

Regimental Heroes Series by Jennifer Conner

Guy did not speak at first, but the solemn expression of his face showed how he felt its power and reverence. Philip asked if they would like to hear more, and Charles assented: Amy worked, Laura went on with her perspective, and Guy sat by her side, making concentric circles with her compasses, or when she wanted them he tormented her parallel ruler, or cut the pencils, never letting his fingers rest except at some high or deep passage, or when some interesting discussion arose.

I thought you were translating. Is it your own property? Tutors I could get by shoals, but a fellow-dunce is inestimable.

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The luncheon bell rang, and they all adjourned to the dining-room. Edmonstone came in when luncheon was nearly over, rejoicing that his letters were done, but then he looked disconsolately from the window, and pitied the weather.

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People might say it was nonsense to have a billiard-table in such a house, but for his part he found there was no getting through a wet day without them. Philip must beat him as usual, and Guy might have one of the young ladies to make a fourth. Your grandfather? He could see no harm in such play as this. For nothing, you understand. You did not suppose I meant anything else? I have promised never even to look on at a game at billiards.

Edmonstone to himself, but catching a warning look from his wife, he became suddenly silent. Edmonstone needed but little persuasion, and carried Philip off to the billiard-table in the front hall. Come and have a real good game at ball on the stairs. She already had hold of his hand, and would have dragged him off at once, had he not waited to help Charles back to his sofa; and in the mean time she tried in vain to persuade her more constant playmate, Amabel, to join the game.