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  1. The Mystery of Edwin Drood Language: English: LoC Class: PR: Language and Literatures: English literature: Subject: England -- Fiction Subject: Psychological fiction Subject: Triangles (Interpersonal relations) -- Fiction Subject: Cathedrals -- Fiction Subject: Missing persons -- Fiction Subject: Choral conductors -- Fiction Subject: Separation ...

  2. The Mystery of Edwin Drood, by Charles Dickens
    • Chapter I—The Dawn
    • Chapter Ii—A Dean, and A Chapter Also
    • Chapter III—The Nuns’ House
    • Chapter Iv—Mr. Sapsea
    • Chapter V—Mr. Durdles and Friend
    • Chapter Vi—Philanthropy in Minor Canon Corner
    • Chapter Vii—More Confidences Than One
    • Chapter Viii—Daggers Drawn
    • Chapter Ix—Birds in The Bush
    • Chapter X—Smoothing The Way

    An ancient English Cathedral Tower? How can the ancientEnglish Cathedral tower be here! The well-known massivegray square tower of its old Cathedral? How can that behere! There is no spike of rusty iron in the air, betweenthe eye and it, from any point of the real prospect. Whatis the spike that intervenes, and who has set it up? Maybeit is set up by the Sultan’s orders for the impaling of ahorde of Turkish robbers, one by one. It is so, for cymbalsclash, and the Sultan goes by to his palace in longprocession. Ten thousand scimitars flash in the sunlight,and thrice ten thousand dancing-girls strew flowers. Then,follow white elephants caparisoned in countless gorgeous colours,and infinite in number and attendants. Still the CathedralTower rises in the background, where it cannot be, and still nowrithing figure is on the grim spike. Stay! Is thespike so low a thing as the rusty spike on the top of a post ofan old bedstead that has tumbled all awry? Some vagueperiod of drowsy laughter...

    Whosoever has observed that sedate and clerical bird, therook, may perhaps have noticed that when he wings his wayhomeward towards nightfall, in a sedate and clerical company, tworooks will suddenly detach themselves from the rest, will retracetheir flight for some distance, and will there poise and linger;conveying to mere men the fancy that it is of some occultimportance to the body politic, that this artful couple shouldpretend to have renounced connection with it. Similarly, service being over in the old Cathedral with thesquare tower, and the choir scuffling out again, and diversvenerable persons of rook-like aspect dispersing, two of theselatter retrace their steps, and walk together in the echoingClose. Not only is the day waning, but the year. The low sun isfiery and yet cold behind the monastery ruin, and the Virginiacreeper on the Cathedral wall has showered half its deep-redleaves down on the pavement. There has been rain thisafternoon, and a wintry shudder goes among the...

    For sufficient reasons, which this narrative will itselfunfold as it advances, a fictitious name must be bestowed uponthe old Cathedral town. Let it stand in these pages asCloisterham. It was once possibly known to the Druids byanother name, and certainly to the Romans by another, and to theSaxons by another, and to the Normans by another; and a name moreor less in the course of many centuries can be of little momentto its dusty chronicles. An ancient city, Cloisterham, and no meet dwelling-place forany one with hankerings after the noisy world. Amonotonous, silent city, deriving an earthy flavour throughoutfrom its Cathedral crypt, and so abounding in vestiges ofmonastic graves, that the Cloisterham children grow small saladin the dust of abbots and abbesses, and make dirt-pies of nunsand friars; while every ploughman in its outlying fields rendersto once puissant Lord Treasurers, Archbishops, Bishops, andsuch-like, the attention which the Ogre in the story-book desiredto render to...

    Accepting the Jackass as the type of self-sufficient stupidityand conceit—a custom, perhaps, like some few other customs,more conventional than fair—then the purest jackass inCloisterham is Mr. Thomas Sapsea, Auctioneer. Mr. Sapsea ‘dresses at’ the Dean; has been bowedto for the Dean, in mistake; has even been spoken to in thestreet as My Lord, under the impression that he was the Bishopcome down unexpectedly, without his chaplain. Mr. Sapsea isvery proud of this, and of his voice, and of his style. Hehas even (in selling landed property) tried the experiment ofslightly intoning in his pulpit, to make himself more like whathe takes to be the genuine ecclesiastical article. So, inending a Sale by Public Auction, Mr. Sapsea finishes off with anair of bestowing a benediction on the assembled brokers, whichleaves the real Dean—a modest and worthygentleman—far behind. Mr. Sapsea has many admirers; indeed, the proposition iscarried by a large local majority, even including non-believersin...

    John Jasper, on his way home through the Close, is brought toa stand-still by the spectacle of Stony Durdles, dinner-bundleand all, leaning his back against the iron railing of theburial-ground enclosing it from the old cloister-arches; and ahideous small boy in rags flinging stones at him as awell-defined mark in the moonlight. Sometimes the stoneshit him, and sometimes they miss him, but Durdles seemsindifferent to either fortune. The hideous small boy, onthe contrary, whenever he hits Durdles, blows a whistle oftriumph through a jagged gap, convenient for the purpose, in thefront of his mouth, where half his teeth are wanting; andwhenever he misses him, yelps out ‘Mulled agin!’ andtries to atone for the failure by taking a more correct andvicious aim. ‘What are you doing to the man?’ demands Jasper,stepping out into the moonlight from the shade. ‘Making a cock-shy of him,’ replies the hideoussmall boy. ‘Give me those stones in your hand.’ ‘Yes, I’ll give ’em you down your throat,...

    The Reverend Septimus Crisparkle (Septimus, because six littlebrother Crisparkles before him went out, one by one, as they wereborn, like six weak little rushlights, as they were lighted),having broken the thin morning ice near Cloisterham Weir with hisamiable head, much to the invigoration of his frame, was nowassisting his circulation by boxing at a looking-glass with greatscience and prowess. A fresh and healthy portrait thelooking-glass presented of the Reverend Septimus, feinting anddodging with the utmost artfulness, and hitting out from theshoulder with the utmost straightness, while his radiant featuresteemed with innocence, and soft-hearted benevolence beamed fromhis boxing-gloves. It was scarcely breakfast-time yet, for Mrs.Crisparkle—mother, not wife of the ReverendSeptimus—was only just down, and waiting for the urn. Indeed, the Reverend Septimus left off at this very moment totake the pretty old lady’s entering face between hisboxing-gloves and kiss it. Having done so w...

    ‘I know very little of that gentleman, sir,’ saidNeville to the Minor Canon as they turned back. ‘You know very little of your guardian?’ the MinorCanon repeated. ‘Almost nothing!’ ‘How came he—’ ‘To bemy guardian? I’ll tell you,sir. I suppose you know that we come (my sister and I) fromCeylon?’ ‘Indeed, no.’ ‘I wonder at that. We lived with a stepfatherthere. Our mother died there, when we were littlechildren. We have had a wretched existence. She madehim our guardian, and he was a miserly wretch who grudged us foodto eat, and clothes to wear. At his death, he passed usover to this man; for no better reason that I know of, than hisbeing a friend or connexion of his, whose name was always inprint and catching his attention.’ ‘That was lately, I suppose?’ ‘Quite lately, sir. This stepfather of ours was acruel brute as well as a grinding one. It is well he diedwhen he did, or I might have killed him.’ Mr. Crisparkle stopped short in the moonlight and looked athis hopeful pupil in cons...

    The two young men, having seen the damsels, their charges,enter the courtyard of the Nuns’ House, and findingthemselves coldly stared at by the brazen door-plate, as if thebattered old beau with the glass in his eye were insolent, lookat one another, look along the perspective of the moonlit street,and slowly walk away together. ‘Do you stay here long, Mr. Drood?’ saysNeville. ‘Not this time,’ is the careless answer. ‘I leave for London again, to-morrow. But I shall behere, off and on, until next Midsummer; then I shall take myleave of Cloisterham, and England too; for many a long day, Iexpect.’ ‘Are you going abroad?’ ‘Going to wake up Egypt a little,’ is thecondescending answer. ‘Are you reading?’ ‘Reading?’ repeats Edwin Drood, with a touch ofcontempt. ‘No. Doing, working,engineering. My small patrimony was left a part of thecapital of the Firm I am with, by my father, a former partner;and I am a charge upon the Firm until I come of age; and then Istep into my modest share in the...

    Rosa, having no relation that she knew of in the world, had,from the seventh year of her age, known no home but theNuns’ House, and no mother but Miss Twinkleton. Herremembrance of her own mother was of a pretty little creaturelike herself (not much older than herself it seemed to her), whohad been brought home in her father’s arms, drowned. The fatal accident had happened at a party of pleasure. Every fold and colour in the pretty summer dress, and even thelong wet hair, with scattered petals of ruined flowers stillclinging to it, as the dead young figure, in its sad, sad beautylay upon the bed, were fixed indelibly in Rosa’srecollection. So were the wild despair and the subsequentbowed-down grief of her poor young father, who diedbroken-hearted on the first anniversary of that hard day. The betrothal of Rosa grew out of the soothing of his year ofmental distress by his fast friend and old college companion,Drood: who likewise had been left a widower in his youth. But he, too, went...

    It has been often enough remarked that women have a curiouspower of divining the characters of men, which would seem to beinnate and instinctive; seeing that it is arrived at through nopatient process of reasoning, that it can give no satisfactory orsufficient account of itself, and that it pronounces in the mostconfident manner even against accumulated observation on the partof the other sex. But it has not been quite so oftenremarked that this power (fallible, like every other humanattribute) is for the most part absolutely incapable ofself-revision; and that when it has delivered an adverse opinionwhich by all human lights is subsequently proved to have failed,it is undistinguishable from prejudice, in respect of itsdetermination not to be corrected. Nay, the verypossibility of contradiction or disproof, however remote,communicates to this feminine judgment from the first, in ninecases out of ten, the weakness attendant on the testimony of aninterested witness; so personally and...

  3. The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens - Full Text ...

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  4. The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens - Free eBook

    The Mystery of Edwin Drood. By. Charles Dickens. 3 ... You can also read the full text online using our ereader. Transcribed from the Chapman and Hall, 1914 edition.

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  6. The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens. Search eText ...

    Edwin Drood, the last book, was a book designed by Dickens, but ultimately filled up by others. The Pickwick Papers showed how much Dickens could make out of other people's suggestions; The Mystery of Edwin Drood shows how very little other people can make out of Dickens's suggestions.

  7. The mystery of Edwin Drood (edition) | Open Library

    Aug 01, 2020 · Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens, unknown edition, Edition Notes "The completion of this novel is by Ruth Alexander following the ending adopted by Universal Studios"

    01 The Mystery of Edwin Drood Jun 26, 2018, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform paperback
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    02 The Mystery of Edwin Drood Mar 08, 2018, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform paperback
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    03 The Mystery of Edwin Drood Dec 18, 2012, The Classic Collection audio cd
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    04 The mystery of Edwin Drood 2010, Kennebec Large Print in English
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  8. The Mystery of Edwin Drood - Scribd

    The Mystery of Edwin Drood - Free download as Powerpoint Presentation (.ppt), PDF File (.pdf), Text File (.txt) or view presentation slides online. Full lyrics to the 2013 Broadway Revival recording of the Rupert Holmes Musical

  9. Edwin Drood Readalong – Cloisterham Tales

    With the death of Dickens on 9 June 1870, Edwin Drood became, for its contemporary readers, an unfinished novel, with the July 1870 instalment standing as the first fragment of that shattered, incomplete whole. It’s difficult, I think, for us to remember that Edwin Drood once held the promise of being a finished novel. As […]

  10. The Mystery of Edwin Drood - Wikipedia

    The Mystery of Edwin Drood is the final novel by Charles Dickens, originally published in 1870.. Though the novel is named after the character Edwin Drood, it focuses more on Drood's uncle, John Jasper, a precentor, choirmaster and opium addict, who is in love with his pupil, Rosa Bud.

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