J. M. Barrie - The Little Minister epub indir Online

Uluslararası Dijital Yayıncılık Forumu (ePub, “ipab” olarak telaffuz edilir), The Little Minister adlı kitabın Dijital Yayınları Tartışma Forumu ile bağlantılı olarak oluşturulan extension.epub ile birlikte, çeşitlerin elektronik yayınlanması için bir düzendir. Düzen, dijital dergiyi tek bir dosyaya dağıtır ve yayınlar, bu da elektronik yayınlar ePub ile uygun yazılım ve donanımın yanı sıra The Little Minister içindeki diğer birkaç dergiyi kullanmayı mümkün kılar. Normal bir kitap The Little Minister. EPub HTML 5'i ifade eder, stil oldukça karmaşıktır, ancak kolayca indirebilirsiniz. İki sistem - bu, HTML 5'i destekleyen minimum miktardır ve aslında, birbirine uymaz (iBooks ve Android), ayrıca HTML'nin bir kısmını destekleyen çok sayıda eski telefonun yanı sıra limitleri ve yanlışlıkları. EPub'ın sınırlamaları arasında - yazarın The Little Minister adlı kitabının The Little Minister küçük HTML belgelerine bölünmesi gerekecektir. Büyük belgeler içeren cihazlar kolay çalışmayabilir. J. M. Barrie etkileşimli medya nesneleri ve dönüştürücü öğelerinin yenilenmiş tasarımı kolayca korunmaz. Epub ayrıca html verilerinin yanı sıra, içerikte kullanılan öğeleri içeren bir metin mesajına da sahiptir - grafikler, stiller, el yazmaları, yazı tipleri. Tüm bunları The Little Minister J. M. Barrie kitabında ücretsiz olarak indirebilirsiniz. HTML, CSS, vb. İçin belirli "ekler" veya "kısıtlamalar" Epub belirtmez. İnternet çok fazla dinamik içerik barındırıyor ve pek çok kitabın içeriği değişiyor ya da bozuluyor. Sitemizde, J. M. Barrie yazarının The Little Minister kitabı orijinal, saf haliyle sunulmaktadır. Epub düzeni basitlik, üretilebilirlik, açıklık ve ayrı DRM bakımıdır. Bu stil, The Little Minister kılavuzuna elektronik biçimde rehberlik etmeyi amaçlamaktadır. Birçok uygulama indirmek için The Little Minister EPub'u ücretsiz görüntülemenizi sağlar. Bu tarzda epub The Little Minister aslında bir belge olarak dağıtılır.

Long ago, in the days when our caged blackbirds never saw a king’s soldier withoutwhistling impudently, “Come ower the water to Charlie,” a minister of Thrums was to bemarried, but something happened, and he remained a bachelor. Then, when he was old, hepassed in our square the lady who was to have been his wife, and her hair was white, butshe, too, was still unmarried. The meeting had only one witness, a weaver, and he saidsolemnly afterwards, “They didna speak, but they just gave one another a look, and I sawthe love-light in their een.” No more is remembered of these two, no being now living eversaw them, but the poetry that was in the soul of a battered weaver makes them human tous for ever.It is of another minister I am to tell, but only to those who know that light when they see it.I am not bidding good-bye to many readers, for though it is true that some men, of whomLord Rintoul was one, live to an old age without knowing love, few of us can have met them,and of women so incomplete I never heard.Gavin Dishart was barely twenty-one when he and his mother came to Thrums, lighthearted like the traveller who knows not what awaits him at the bend of the road. It wasthe time of year when the ground is carpeted beneath the firs with brown needles, whensplit-nuts patter all day from the beech, and children lay yellow corn on the dominie’s deskto remind him that now they are needed in the fields. The day was so silent that carts couldbe heard rumbling a mile away. All Thrums was out in its wynds and closes—a few of theweavers still in knee-breeches—to look at the new Auld Licht minister. I was there too, thedominie of Glen Quharity, which is four miles from Thrums; and heavy was my heart as Istood afar off so that Gavin’s mother might not have the pain of seeing me. I was the onlyone in the crowd who looked at her more than at her son.Eigh years had passed since we parted. Already her hair had lost the brightness of itsyouth, and she seemed to me smaller and more fragile; and the face that I loved when I wasa hobbledehoy, and loved when I looked once more upon it in Thrums, and always shalllove till I die, was soft and worn. Margaret was an old woman, and she was only forty-three;and I am the man who made her old. As Gavin put his eager boyish face out at the carriagewindow, many saw that he was holding her hand, but none could be glad at the sight as thedominie was glad, looking on at a happiness in which he dared not mingle. Margaret wascrying because she was so proud of her boy. Women do that. Poor sons to be proud of, goodmothers, but I would not have you dry those tears.