The F. Scott Fitzgerald MEGAPACK ®: 46 Classic Works

The F. Scott Fitzgerald MEGAPACK ®: 46 Classic Works

Language: English

Pages: 0

ISBN: B00J8P6S4K

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This volume assembles 46 classic works by F. Scott Fitzgerald, ranging from short stories to novels to poetry and essays. Included are:

THE JELLY-BEAN

THE CAMEL'S BACK

MAY DAY

PORCELAIN AND PINK

THE DIAMOND AS BIG AS THE RITZ

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON

TARQUIN OF CHEAPSIDE

"O RUSSET WITCH!"

THE LEES OF HAPPINESS

MR. ICKY

JEMINA, THE MOUNTAIN GIRL

THE OFFSHORE PIRATE

THE ICE PALACE

HEAD AND SHOULDERS

THE CUT-GLASS BOWL

BERNICE BOBS HER HAIR

BENEDICTION

DALYRIMPLE GOES WRONG

THE FOUR FISTS

THE POPULAR GIRL

TWO FOR A CENT

WINTER DREAMS

MYRA MEETS HIS FAMILY

THE BEAUTIFUL AND DAMNED

THE SIDE OF PARADISE

THE BALTIMORE ANTI-CHRIST (essay)

POOR OLD MARRIAGE (essay)

THE MYSTERY OF THE RAYMOND MORTGAGE

READE, SUBSTITUTE RIGHT HALF

A DEBT OF HONOR

THE ROOM WITH THE GREEN BLINDS

A LUCKLESS SANTA CLAUS

PAIN AND THE SCIENTIST

THE TRAIL OF THE DUKE

THE USUAL THING

LITTLE MINNIE McCLOSKEY

THE OLD FRONTIERSMAN

THE SPIRE AND THE GARGOYLE

THE DIARY OF A SOPHOMORE

THE PRINCE OF PESTS

PRINCETON—THE LAST DAY (poem)

SENTIMENT—AND THE USE OF ROUGE

THE PIERIAN SPRINGS AND THE LAST STRAW

STAYING UP ALL NIGHT (poem)

CEDRIC THE STOKER

MARCHING STREETS (poem)

If you enjoy this volume, check out other entries (including literature, mysteries, westerns, science fiction, ghost stories, and much more) in this best-selling series. Search on "Wildside Press Megapack" in your favorite ebook store to see the complete list. (Sort by date to see the most recent additions.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

authentic and original character. The outer signs of the cut-and-dried Yale prom girl and all that—but different, very emphatically different.” “Go on, go on!” urged Anthony. “Soon as Dick told me she didn’t have a brain in her head I knew she must be pretty good.” “Did he say that?” “Swore to it,” said Anthony with another snorting laugh. “Well, what he means by brains in a woman is—” “I know,” interrupted Anthony eagerly, “he means a smattering of literary misinformation.” “That’s it. The

dressed and slept in her husband’s chamber, which Gloria considered somehow “good,” as though Anthony’s presence there had acted as exterminator of any uneasy shadows of the past that might have hovered about its walls. The distinction between “good” and “bad,” ordered early and summarily out of both their lives, had been reinstated in another form. Gloria insisted that any one invited to the gray house must be “good,” which, in the case of a girl, meant that she must be either simple and

days; she would go to Bloeckman tomorrow. With the decision came relief. It cheered her that in some manner the illusion of beauty could be sustained, or preserved perhaps in celluloid after the reality had vanished. Well—tomorrow. The next day she felt weak and ill. She tried to go out, and saved herself from collapse only by clinging to a mail box near the front door. The Martinique elevator boy helped her upstairs, and she waited on the bed for Anthony’s return without energy to unhook her

biographical novel that Amory christened “quest” books. In the “quest” book the hero set off in life armed with the best weapons and avowedly intending to use them as such weapons are usually used, to push their possessors ahead as selfishly and blindly as possible, but the heroes of the “quest” books discovered that there might be a more magnificent use for them. None Other Gods, Sinister Street, and The Research Magnificent were examples of such books; it was the latter of these three that

glee. “It’s the only way,” she gasped in a sort of triumphant malignity. “The only thing that keeps old folks like me happy is the sense that they can make other people step around. To be old and rich and have poor descendants is almost as much fun as to be young and beautiful and have ugly sisters.” “Oh, yes,” chuckled Merlin. “I know. I envy you.” She nodded, blinking. “The last time I was in here, forty years ago,” she said, “you were a young man very anxious to kick up your heels.” “I

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