Guy Arledge Audiobooks

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Audiobooks
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Description

The work that I have done is copyrighted, so what you'll hear is material that is now in the public domain. I believe it will give you a good sense of my "sound."

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Accents

North American (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
all right, This first selection is from Abraham Lincoln. The Prayer Years by Carl Sandburg. One morning in February of this year, 18 09 Tom Lincoln came out of his cabin with Road, stopped a neighbor and asked him to tell the granny woman and Peggy Walters that Nancy would need help soon. On the morning of February 12 the Sunday the Granny Woman was there at the cabin, and she and Tom Lincoln and the moaning Nancy Hanks welcomed into a world of battle and blood of whispering dreams, wistful dust, a new child, a boy. A little later that morning, Tom Lincoln through some extra wood on the fire and an extra bare skin over the mother went out of the cabin and walked two miles up the road to where the sparrows Tom and Betsy lived. Dennis Hanks, the nine year old boy adopted by the sparrows, met Tom at the door in his slow way of talking. He was a slow and quiet man. Tom Lincoln told them. Nancy's got a baby boy. Half sheepish look was in his eyes, as though maybe more babies were not wanted in Kentucky. Just then, the boy, Dennis Hanks took to his feet down the road to the Lincoln cabin. There he saw Nancy Hanks on a bed of polls cleated to a corner of the cabin under warm bear skins. She turned her dark head from looking at the baby to look at Denis and threw him a tired white smile from her mouth and grey eyes. He stood by the bed, his eyes wide open, watching the even quiet breaths of this fresh, soft red baby. What, you're going to name him, Nancy? The boy asked. Abraham was the answer after his grandfather. This is from a tale of two cities by Charles Dickens. Chapter one, The period. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the epic of belief. It was the epic of incredulity. It was the season of light. It was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope. It was the winter of despair. We had everything before us. We had nothing before us. We were all going direct to heaven. We were all going direct the other way. In short, that period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received for good or for evil. In the superlative degree of comparison on Lee, there was a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face on the throne of England. There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a fair face on the throne of France. In both countries, it was clearer than Crystal to the lords of the state, preserves of lows and fishes that things in general were settled forever. It was the year of our Lord 1775. Spiritually revelations were conceded to England at that favorite period. This next selection is from Winston Churchill's Nobel Prize winning work, The Second World War. It's from the second volume entitled Their Finest Hour, and it's actually an excerpt from a speech that Mr Churchill delivered to Parliament on June the 18th 1940 later broadcast to the world on the BBC. What general vague on called the Battle of France, is over. I expect that the Battle of Britain is about to begin upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation upon it depends our own British life and the long continuity of our institutions and our empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for will sink into the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister and perhaps more protracted by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties and so bear ourselves that if the British Empire and its commonwealth last for 1000 years, men will still say this was their finest hour. This next election is from the book entitled We Written by Charles Lindbergh on his voyage home after the historic flight from New York to Paris. This is from Chapter 10 entitled New York to Paris about 7:40 a.m. The motor was started, and at 7 52 I took off on the flight for Paris. The field was a little soft due to the rain during the night, and the heavily loaded plane gathered speed very slowly. After passing the halfway mark, however, it was apparent that I would be able to clear the obstructions. At the end, I passed over a tractor by about 15 feet and a telephone line by about 20 with a fair reserve of flying speed. I believe that the ship would have taken off from Ah, hard field with at least £500 more weight. I turned slightly to the right to avoid some high trees on a hill directly ahead, but by the time I had gone a few 100 yards, I had sufficient altitude.