News — ShortStoriesByHemingway

OUT OF SEASON by Ernest Hemingway BIOGRAPHY On the four lira he had earned by spading the hotel garden he got quite drunk. He saw the young gentleman coming down the path and spoke to him mysteriously. The young gentleman said he had not eaten but would be ready to go as soon as lunch was finished. Forty minutes or an hour. At the cantina near the bridge they trusted him for three more grappas because he was so confident and mysterious about his job for the afternoon. It was a windy day with the sun coming out from behind...

The Snows of Kilimanjaro by Ernest Hemingway Hemingway / Las nieves del Kilimanjaro (De otros mundos) Hemingway / As neves de Kilimanjaro (Pessoa) THE MARVELLOUS THING IS THAT IT’S painless," he said. "That's how you know when it starts." "Is it really?" "Absolutely. I'm awfully sorry about the odor though. That must bother you." "Don't! Please don't." "Look at them," he said. "Now is it sight or is it scent that brings them like that?" The cot the man lay on was in the wide shade of a mimosa tree and as he looked out past the shade onto the glare of the...

Fifty Grand by Ernest Hemingway BIOGRAPHY Hemingway / Cincuenta de los grandes "How are you going yourself, Jack?" I asked him. "You seen this, Walcott?" he says. "Just in the gym." "Well," Jack says, "I'm going to need a lot of luck with that boy." "He can't hit you, Jack," Soldier said. "I wish to hell he couldn't." "He couldn't hit you with a handful of bird-shot." "Bird-shot'd be all right," Jack says. "I wouldn't mind bird-shot any." "He looks easy to hit," I said. "Sure," Jack says, "he ain't going to last long. He ain't going to last like...