Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
Produced by Kirk Pearson and David Widger
The Financier
by Theodore Dreiser
Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Chapter XLI
Chapter XLII
Chapter XLIII
Chapter XLIV
Chapter XLV
Chapter XLVI
Chapter XLVII
Chapter XLVIII
Chapter XLIX
Chapter L
Chapter LI
Chapter LII
Chapter LIII
Chapter LIV
Chapter LV
Chapter LVI
Chapter LVII
Chapter LVIII
Chapter LIX
Concerning Mycteroperca Bonaci
The Magic Crystal
Chapter I
The Philadelphia into which Frank Algernon Cowperwood was born was a
city of two hundred and fifty thousand and more. It was set with
handsome parks, notable buildings, and crowded with historic memories.
Many of the things that we and he knew later were not then in
existence—the telegraph, telephone, express company, ocean steamer,
city delivery of mails. There were no postage-stamps or registered
letters. The street car had not arrived. In its place were hosts of
omnibuses, and for longer travel the slowly developing railroad system
still largely connected by canals.
Cowperwood’s father was a bank clerk at the time of Frank’s birth, but
ten years later, when the boy was already beginning to turn a very
sensible, vigorous eye on the world, Mr. Henry Worthington Cowperwood,
because of the death of the bank’s president and the consequent moving
ahead of the other officers, fell heir to the place vacated by the
promoted teller, at the, to him, munificent salary of thirty-five
hundred dollars a year. At once he decided, as he told his wife
joyously, to remove his family from 21 Buttonwood Street to 124 New
Market Street, a much better neighborhood, where there was a nice brick
house of three stories in height as opposed to their present
two-storied domicile. There was the probability that some day they
would come into something even better, but for the present this was
sufficient. He was exceedingly grateful.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account