ï»¿The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Woggle-Bug Book, by L. Frank Baum,Illustrated by Ike MorganThiseBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You maycopy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBookor online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Woggle-Bug BookAuthor: L. Frank BaumRelease Date: June 23,2007  [eBook #21914]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)***START OFTHE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOGGLE-BUG BOOK***E-text prepared by Michael Gray(Lost_Gamer@comcast.net)Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this      file whichincludes the original illustrations.      See 21914-h.htm or 21914-h.zip:      (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/1/9/1/21914/21914-h/21914-h.htm)      or      (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/1/9/1/21914/21914-h.zip)THE WOGGLE-BUG BOOKbyL. FRANK BAUMPictures by Ike MorganChicagoThe Reilly & BrittonCo.1905Copyright1905byL. Frank BaumEvery Right ReservedThe Unique Adventures of theWOGGLE-BUGONE day Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E., becoming separated from hiscomrades who hadaccompanied him from the Land of Oz, and finding thattime hung heavy on his hands (he had four ofthem), decided to walkdown the Main street of the City and try to discover something or otherofinterest.The initials "H. M." before his name meant "Highly Magnified," for thisWoggle-Bug was severalthousand times bigger than any other woggle-bugyou ever saw. And the initials "T. E." after his namedmeant "ThoroughlyEducated"--and so he was, in the Land of Oz. But his education, beingapplied to awoggle-bug intellect, was not at all remarkable in thiscountry, where everything is quite different thanOz. Yet theWoggle-Bug did not suspect this, and being, like so many other thoroughlyeducated persons,proud of his mental attainments, he marched along thestreet with an air of importance that made onewonder what greatthoughts were occupying his massive brain.Being about as big, in his magnified state,as a man, the Woggle-Bugtook care to clothe himself like a man; only, instead of choosing sobercolors forhis garments, he delighted in the most gorgeous reds andyellows and blues and greens; so that if youlooked at him long thebrilliance of his clothing was liable to dazzle your eyes.I suppose the Waggle-Bugdid not realize at all what a queer appearancehe made. Being rather nervous, he seldom looked into amirror; and asthe people he met avoided telling him he was unusual, he had falleninto the habit ofconsidering himself merely an ordinary citizen of thebig city wherein he resided.So the Woggle-Bugstrutted proudly along the street, swinging a cane inone hand, flourishing a pink handkerchief in theother, fumbling hiswatch-fob with another, and feeling his necktie was straight withanother. Having fourhands to use would prove rather puzzling to you orme, I imagine; but the Woggie-Bug was thoroughlyaccustomed to them.Presently he came to a very fine store with big plate-glass windows,and standing inthe center of the biggest window was a creature sobeautiful and radiant and altogether charming that thefirst glance ather nearly took his breath away. Her complexion was lovely, for it waswax; but the thingwhich really caught the Woggle-Bug's fancy was themarvelous dress she wore. Indeed, it was the latest(last year's) Parismodel, although the Woggle-Bug did not know that; and the designer musthave had areal woggly love for bright colors, for the gown was made ofred cloth covered with big checks which wereso loud the fashion bookscalled them "Wagnerian Plaids."Never had our friend the Woggle-Bug seen sucha beautiful gown before,and it afflicted him so strongly that he straightaway fell in love withthe entireoutfit--even to the wax-complexioned lady herself! Verypolitely he tipped his to her; but she stared coldlyback without inany way acknowledging the courtesy."Never mind," he thought; "'faint heart never wonfair lady.' And I'mdetermined to win this kaliedoscope of beauty or perish in theattempt!" You will noticethat our insect had a way of using big wordsto express himself, which leads us to suspect that the schoolsystem inOz is the same they employ in Boston.As, with swelling heart, the Woggle-Bug feasted his eyesupon theenchanting vision, a small green tag that was attached to a button ofthe waist suddenlyattracted his attention. Upon the tag was marked:"Price $7.93--GREATLY REDUCED.""Ah!" murmured theWoggle-Bug; "my darling is in greatly reducedcircumstances, and $7.93 will make her mine! Where, ohwhere, shall Ifind the seven ninety-three wherewith to liberate this divinity andmake her Mrs.Woggle-Bug?""Move on!" said a gruff policeman, who came along swinging his club.And the Woggle-Bug


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Villette, by Charlotte BrontÃ«This eBook is for the use of anyoneanywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: VilletteAuthor: Charlotte BrontÃ«Posting Date: August 23, 2010 [EBook#9182]Release Date: October, 2005First Posted: September 12, 2003[Last updated: March 2,2016]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VILLETTE ***Produced byDelphine Lettau, Charles Franks and Distributed ProofreadersVILLETTE.BYCHARLOTTEBRONTÃ.CONTENTSCHAPTER       I.  BRETTON      II.  PAULINA     III.  THE PLAYMATES      IV.  MISSMARCHMONT       V.  TURNING A NEW LEAF      VI.  LONDON     VII.  VILLETTE    VIII.  MADAMEBECK      IX.  ISIDORE       X.  DR. JOHN      XI.  THE PORTRESS'S CABINET     XII.  THECASKET    XIII.  A SNEEZE OUT OF SEASON     XIV.  THE FÃTE      XV.  THE LONGVACATION     XVI.  AULD LANG SYNE    XVII.  LA TERRASSE   XVIII.  WE QUARREL     XIX.  THECLEOPATRA      XX.  THE CONCERT     XXI.  REACTION    XXII.  THE LETTER   XXIII.  VASHTI    XXIV.  M.DE BASSOMPIERRE     XXV.  THE LITTLE COUNTESS    XXVI.  A BURIAL   XXVII.  THE HÃTELCRÃCY  XXVIII.  THE WATCHGUARD    XXIX.  MONSIEUR'S FÃTE     XXX.  M. PAUL    XXXI.  THEDRYAD   XXXII.  THE FIRST LETTER  XXXIII.  M. PAUL KEEPS HISPROMISE   XXXIV.  MALEVOLA    XXXV.  FRATERNITY   XXXVI.  THE APPLE OFDISCORD  XXXVII.  SUNSHINE XXXVIII.  CLOUD   XXXIX.  OLD AND NEW ACQUAINTANCE      XL.  THEHAPPY PAIR     XLI.  FAUBOURG CLOTILDE    XLII.  FINISVILLETTE.CHAPTER I.BRETTON.My godmotherlived in a handsome house in the clean and ancient town ofBretton. Her husband's family had beenresidents there for generations,and bore, indeed, the name of their birthplace--Bretton ofBretton:whether by coincidence, or because some remote ancestor had been apersonage of sufficientimportance to leave his name to hisneighbourhood, I know not.When I was a girl I went to Bretton abouttwice a year, and well Iliked the visit. The house and its inmates specially suited me. Thelarge peacefulrooms, the well-arranged furniture, the clear widewindows, the balcony outside, looking down on a fineantique street,where Sundays and holidays seemed always to abide--so quiet was itsatmosphere, soclean its pavement--these things pleased me well.One child in a household of grown people is usuallymade very much of,and in a quiet way I was a good deal taken notice of by Mrs. Bretton,who had beenleft a widow, with one son, before I knew her; herhusband, a physician, having died while she was yet ayoung andhandsome woman.She was not young, as I remember her, but she was still handsome,tall,well-made, and though dark for an Englishwoman, yet wearing always theclearness of health in herbrunette cheek, and its vivacity in a pairof fine, cheerful black eyes. People esteemed it a grievous pitythatshe had not conferred her complexion on her son, whose eyes wereblue--though, even in boyhood,very piercing--and the colour of hislong hair such as friends did not venture to specify, except as thesunshone on it, when they called it golden. He inherited the lines of hismother's features, however; alsoher good teeth, her stature (or thepromise of her stature, for he was not yet full-grown), and, whatwasbetter, her health without flaw, and her spirits of that tone andequality which are better than afortune to the possessor.In the autumn of the year ---- I was staying at Bretton; my godmotherhavingcome in person to claim me of the kinsfolk with whom was at thattime fixed my permanent residence. Ibelieve she then plainly sawevents coming, whose very shadow I scarce guessed; yet of which thefaintsuspicion sufficed to impart unsettled sadness, and made me gladto change scene and society.Timealways flowed smoothly for me at my godmother's side; not withtumultuous swiftness, but blandly, likethe gliding of a full riverthrough a plain. My visits to her resembled the sojourn of Christianand Hopefulbeside a certain pleasant stream, with "green trees on eachbank, and meadows beautified with lilies allthe year round." The charmof variety there was not, nor the excitement of incident; but I likedpeace sowell, and sought stimulus so little, that when the latter cameI almost felt it a disturbance, and wishedrather it had still heldaloof.One day a letter was received of which the contents evidently causedMrs.Bretton surprise and some concern. I thought at first it was fromhome, and trembled, expecting I know


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's Search the Sky, by Frederik Pohl and C. M. KornbluthThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere in the United States and mostother parts of the world at no cost and with almost norestrictionswhatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms ofthe ProjectGutenberg License included with this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in theUnited States, you'll haveto check the laws of the country where you are located before using thisebook.Title: Search the SkyAuthor: Frederik Pohl        C. M. KornbluthRelease Date: June 3, 2016 [EBook#52228]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: UTF-8*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERGEBOOK SEARCH THE SKY ***                  By Frederik Pohl and C. M. Kornbluth                         _THESPACE MERCHANTS_                            _SEARCH THESKY_------------------------------------------------------------------------                               SEARCHTHE                                  SKY                                   by                             FrederikPohl                                  and                            C. M. Kornbluth                      BALLANTINE BOOKS Â·NEWYORK------------------------------------------------------------------------                          COPYRIGHT,1954, BY                   FREDERIK POHL AND C. M. KORNBLUTH             LIBRARY OF CONGRESSCATALOGUE CARD NO. 54-6478                PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OFAMERICA                         BALLANTINE BOOKS, INC.                  404 Fifth Avenue, New York 18, N.Y.                  ------------------------------------                           TRANSCRIBER'SNOTE                   Extensive research did not uncover                  any evidence that the U.S.copyright                    on this publication wasrenewed.------------------------------------------------------------------------                               SEARCHTHE                                  SKY..... 1DECAY.Ross stood on the tradersâ ramp, overlooking the Yards,and the wordkept bobbing to the top of his mind.Decay.About all of Halseyâs Planet there was theimperceptible reek of decay.The clean, big, bustling, efficient spaceport only made the sensationstronger.From where he stood on the height of the Ramp, he could seethe Yards, the spires of Halsey City tenkilometers awayâand thetumble-down gray acres of Ghost Town between.Ross wrinkled his nose. Hewasnât a man given to brooding, but the scentof decay had saturated his nostrils that morning. Hehad tossed andturned all the night, wrestling with a decision. And he had got upearly, so early that theonly thing that made sense was to walk to work.And that meant walking through Ghost Town. Hehadnât done that in a longtime, not since childhood. Ghost Town was a wonderful place toplay.âTag,â âFollow My Fuehrer,â âSenators and Presidentââall theancientgames took on new life when you could dodge and turn among crumblingruins, dart downunmarked lanes, gallop through sagging shacks where youmight stir out a screeching, unexpectedrecluse.But it was clear thatâin the fifteen years between childhood games and atroubled manâswalk to workâGhost Town had grown.Everybody knew that! Ask the right specialists, and theyâdtell you howmuch and how fast. An acre a year, a street a month, a block a week, thespecialists wouldtwinkle at you, convinced that the acre, street, blockwas under control, since they could measure it.Askthe right specialists and they would tell you why it was happening.One answer per specialist, with anironclad guarantee that there wouldbe no overlapping of replies. âA purely psychologicalphenomenon, Mr.Ross. A vibration of the pendulum toward greater municipal compactness,a huddling, amature recognition of the facts of interdependence,basically a step forward....ââA purelybiological phenomenon, Mr. Ross. Falling birth rate due tobiochemical deficiency of trace elementsprocessed out of our planetarydiet. Fortunately the situation has been recognized in time and mybillbefore the Chamber will provide....ââA purely technological problem, Mr. Ross. Maintenance ofa sprawlingcity is inevitably less efficient than that of a compact unit.Inevitably there has been a driftback to the central areas and theconvenience of air-conditioned walkways, winterized plazas....âYes.It was a purely psychological-biological-technological-educational-demographic problem, and it wasbasically a step forward.Ross wondered how many Ghost Towns lay corpselike on the surface


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale of Two Bad Mice, by Beatrix PotterThis eBook is for the useof anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Tale of Two Bad MiceAuthor: Beatrix PotterRelease Date: March 31, 2014[EBook #45264]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TWOBAD MICE ***Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online DistributedProofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternetArchive)THE TALE OF TWO BAD MICE    FOR    =W. M. L. W.=    THE LITTLE GIRL    WHO HAD THEDOLL'S HOUSE[Illustration]    THE TALE OF    TWO BAD MICE    BY    BEATRIX POTTER    _Authorof    'The Tale of Peter Rabbit,' &c._    [Illustration]    LONDON    FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.    ANDNEW YORK    1904    [_All rights reserved_]    COPYRIGHT 1904    BY    FREDERICK WARNE &CO.    ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.[Illustration]ONCE upon a time there was a very beautifuldoll's-house; it was redbrick with white windows, and it had real muslin curtains and a frontdoor and achimney.IT belonged to two Dolls called Lucinda and Jane; at least it belongedto Lucinda, but she neverordered meals.Jane was the Cook; but she never did any cooking, because the dinnerhad been boughtready-made, in a box full of shavings.[Illustration][Illustration]THERE were two red lobsters and a ham, afish, a pudding, and somepears and oranges.They would not come off the plates, but they wereextremely beautiful.ONE morning Lucinda and Jane had gone out for a drive in the doll'sperambulator.There was no one in the nursery, and it was very quiet.Presently there was a little scuffling, scratchingnoise in a cornernear the fire-place, where there was a hole under the skirting-board.Tom Thumb put outhis head for a moment, and then popped it in again.Tom Thumb was a mouse.[Illustration][Illustration]AMINUTE afterwards, Hunca Munca, his wife, put her head out, too; andwhen she saw that there was noone in the nursery, she ventured out onthe oilcloth under the coal-box.THE doll's-house stood at theother side of the fire-place. Tom Thumband Hunca Munca went cautiously across the hearthrug. Theypushed thefront door--it was not fast.[Illustration][Illustration]TOM THUMB and Hunca Munca wentupstairs and peeped into thedining-room. Then they squeaked with joy!Such a lovely dinner was laid outupon the table! There were tinspoons, and lead knives and forks, and two dolly-chairs--all_so_convenient!TOM THUMB set to work at once to carve the ham. It was a beautifulshiny yellow,streaked with red.The knife crumpled up and hurt him; he put his finger in his mouth."It is not boiledenough; it is hard. You have a try, Hunca Munca."[Illustration][Illustration]HUNCA MUNCA stood up inher chair, and chopped at the ham with anotherlead knife."It's as hard as the hams at thecheesemonger's," said Hunca Munca.THE ham broke off the plate with a jerk, and rolled under thetable."Let it alone," said Tom Thumb; "give me some fish, HuncaMunca!"[Illustration][Illustration]HUNCA MUNCA tried every tin spoon in turn; the fish was glued tothedish.Then Tom Thumb lost his temper. He put the ham in the middle of thefloor, and hit it with thetongs and with the shovel--bang, bang,smash, smash!The ham flew all into pieces, for underneath theshiny paint it wasmade of nothing but plaster!THEN there was no end to the rage and disappointment ofTom Thumb andHunca Munca. They broke up the pudding, the lobsters, the pears and theoranges.As thefish would not come off the plate, they put it into the red-hotcrinkly paper fire in the kitchen; but it wouldnot burn either.[Illustration][Illustration]TOM THUMB went up the kitchen chimney and looked out at thetop--therewas no soot.WHILE Tom Thumb was up the chimney, Hunca Munca hadanotherdisappointment. She found some tiny canisters upon thedresser,labelled--Rice--Coffee--Sago--but when she turned them upside down,there was nothing insideexcept red and blue beads.[Illustration][Illustration]THEN those mice set to work to do all the mischieftheycould--especially Tom Thumb! He took Jane's clothes out of the chest ofdrawers in her bedroom, andhe threw them out of the top floor window.But Hunca Munca had a frugal mind. After pulling half thefeathers outof Lucinda's bolster, she remembered that she herself was in want of afeather bed.WITH TomThumb's assistance she carried the bolster downstairs, andacross the hearth-rug. It was difficult to


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Ginger and Pickles, by Beatrix PotterThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: The Tale of Ginger and PicklesAuthor: Beatrix PotterRelease Date: February 2,2005 [EBook #14877]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OFGINGER AND PICKLES ***Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the PG OnlineDistributedProofreading Team.THE TALE OF GINGER AND PICKLESDEDICATEDWITH VERY KIND REGARDS TO OLDMR. JOHN TAYLOR,WHO "THINKS HE MIGHT PASS AS A DORMOUSE!" (THREE YEARS IN BED AND NEVERA GRUMBLE!)[Illustration]THE TALE OF GINGER & PICKLESBY BEATRIX POTTER_Author of "The Tale ofPeter Rabbit," &c._[Illustration]FREDERICK WARNE1909 by Frederick Warne & Co.Printed and bound inGreat Britain byWilliam Clowes Limited, Beccles and London[Illustration]Once upon a time there was avillage shop. The name over the window was"Ginger and Pickles."It was a little small shop just the rightsize for Dolls--Lucinda and JaneDoll-cook always bought their groceries at Ginger and Pickles.The counterinside was a convenient height for rabbits. Ginger andPickles sold red spotty pocket-handkerchiefs at apenny three farthings.They also sold sugar, and snuff and galoshes.In fact, although it was such a smallshop it sold nearlyeverything--except a few things that you want in a hurry--like bootlaces,hair-pins andmutton chops.Ginger and Pickles were the people who kept the shop. Ginger was a yellowtom-cat, andPickles was a terrier.The rabbits were always a little bit afraid of Pickles.[Illustration][Illustration]Theshop was also patronized by mice--only the mice were rather afraid ofGinger.Ginger usually requestedPickles to serve them, because he said it madehis mouth water."I cannot bear," said he, "to see themgoing out at the door carryingtheir little parcels.""I have the same feeling about rats," replied Pickles,"but it wouldnever do to eat our own customers; they would leave us and go to TabithaTwitchit's.""On thecontrary, they would go nowhere," replied Ginger gloomily.(Tabitha Twitchit kept the only other shop inthe village. She did notgive credit.)[Illustration][Illustration]Ginger and Pickles gave unlimited credit.Nowthe meaning of "credit" is this--when a customer buys a bar of soap,instead of the customer pulling out apurse and paying for it--she saysshe will pay another time.And Pickles makes a low bow and says, "Withpleasure, madam," and it iswritten down in a book.The customers come again and again, and buyquantities, in spite of beingafraid of Ginger and Pickles.But there is no money in what is called the"till."[Illustration][Illustration]The customers came in crowds every day and bought quantities,especiallythe toffee customers. But there was always no money; they never paid foras much as apennyworth of peppermints.But the sales were enormous, ten times as large as TabithaTwitchit's.[Illustration]As there was always no money, Ginger and Pickles were obliged to eattheir owngoods.Pickles ate biscuits and Ginger ate a dried haddock.They ate them by candle-light after the shopwas closed.[Illustration]When it came to Jan. 1st there was still no money, and Pickles was unableto buya dog licence."It is very unpleasant, I am afraid of the police," said Pickles."It is your own fault for beinga terrier; _I_ do not require a licence,and neither does Kep, the Collie dog.""It is very uncomfortable, Iam afraid I shall be summoned. I have triedin vain to get a licence upon credit at the Post Office;" saidPickles."The place is full of policemen. I met one as I was coming home.""Let us send in the bill again toSamuel Whiskers, Ginger, he owes 22/9for bacon.""I do not believe that he intends to pay at all," repliedGinger.[Illustration]"And I feel sure that Anna Maria pockets things--Where are all thecreamcrackers?""You have eaten them yourself," replied Ginger.[Illustration]Ginger and Pickles retiredinto the back parlour.They did accounts. They added up sums and sums, and sums."Samuel Whiskers hasrun up a bill as long as his tail; he has had anounce and three-quarters of snuff since October.""What isseven pounds of butter at 1/3, and a stick of sealing wax andfour matches?""Send in all the bills again toeverybody 'with comp'ts,'" replied Ginger.[Illustration][Illustration]After a time they heard a noise in theshop, as if something had beenpushed in at the door. They came out of the back parlour. There wasanenvelope lying on the counter, and a policeman writing in a note-book!Pickles nearly had a fit, hebarked and he barked and made little rushes."Bite him, Pickles! bite him!" spluttered Ginger behind a


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg eBook, Ruth, by Elizabeth Cleghorn GaskellThis eBook is for the use of anyoneanywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: RuthAuthor: Elizabeth Cleghorn GaskellRelease Date: December 26,2001  [eBook #4275]Most recently updated March 1, 2008Language: English***START OF THE PROJECTGUTENBERG EBOOK RUTH***E-text prepared by Charles Aldarondoand revised by Joseph E.Loewenstein, M.D.RUTHbyELIZABETH GASKELLFirst published in book form by Chapman and Hall in1853CONTENTS        I. The Dressmaker's Apprentice at Work       II. Ruth Goes to the Shire-Hall      III.Sunday at Mrs Mason's       IV. Treading in Perilous Places        V. In North Wales       VI. Troubles GatherAbout Ruth      VII. The Crisis--Watching and Waiting     VIII. Mrs Bellingham "Does the ThingHandsomely"       IX. The Storm-Spirit Subdued        X. A Note and the Answer       XI. Thurstan andFaith Benson      XII. Losing Sight of the Welsh Mountains     XIII. The Dissenting Minister'sHousehold      XIV. Ruth's First Sunday at Eccleston       XV. Mother and Child      XVI. Sally Tells of HerSweethearts, and Discourses           on the Duties of Life     XVII. Leonard's Christening    XVIII. RuthBecomes a Governess in Mr Bradshaw's Family      XIX. After Five Years       XX. Jemima Refuses to BeManaged      XXI. Mr Farquhar's Attentions Transferred     XXII. The Liberal Candidate and HisPrecursor    XXIII. Recognition     XXIV. The Meeting on the Sands      XXV. Jemima Makes aDiscovery     XXVI. Mr Bradshaw's Virtuous Indignation    XXVII. Preparing to Stand on theTruth   XXVIII. An Understanding Between Lovers     XXIX. Sally Takes Her Money Out of theBank      XXX. The Forged Deed     XXXI. An Accident to the Dover Coach    XXXII. The Bradshaw PewAgain Occupied   XXXIII. A Mother to Be Proud Of    XXXIV. "I Must Go and Nurse MrBellingham"     XXXV. Out of Darkness into Light    XXXVI. The End   Drop, drop, slow tears!   And bathethose beauteous feet,   Which brought from heaven   The news and Prince of peace.   Cease not, weteyes,   For mercy to entreat:   To cry for vengeance   Sin doth never cease.   In your deep floods   Drownall my faults and fears;   Nor let His eye   See sin, but through my tears.   _Phineas Fletcher_CHAPTERIThe Dressmaker's Apprentice at WorkThere is an assize-town in one of the eastern counties which wasmuchdistinguished by the Tudor sovereigns, and, in consequence of theirfavour and protection, attained adegree of importance that surprisesthe modern traveller.A hundred years ago its appearance was that ofpicturesque grandeur.The old houses, which were the temporary residences of such of thecounty-familiesas contented themselves with the gaieties of aprovincial town, crowded the streets and gave them theirregular butnoble appearance yet to be seen in the cities of Belgium. The sidesof the streets had a quaintrichness, from the effect of the gables,and the stacks of chimneys which cut against the blue skyabove;while, if the eye fell lower down, the attention was arrested by allkinds of projections in the shapeof balcony and oriel; and it wasamusing to see the infinite variety of windows that had been crammedintothe walls long before Mr Pitt's days of taxation. The streetsbelow suffered from all these projections andadvanced stories above;they were dark, and ill-paved with large, round, jolting pebbles, andwith noside-path protected by kerb-stones; there were no lamp-postsfor long winter nights; and no regard waspaid to the wants of themiddle class, who neither drove about in coaches of their own, norwere carried bytheir own men in their own sedans into the veryhalls of their friends. The professional men and theirwives, theshopkeepers and their spouses, and all such people, walked about atconsiderable peril bothnight and day. The broad unwieldy carriageshemmed them up against the houses in the narrow streets.Theinhospitable houses projected their flights of steps almost into thecarriage-way, forcing pedestriansagain into the danger they hadavoided for twenty or thirty paces. Then, at night, the only lightwasderived from the glaring, flaring oil-lamps hung above the doorsof the more aristocratic mansions; justallowing space for thepassers-by to become visible, before they again disappeared into thedarkness,where it was no uncommon thing for robbers to be in waitingfor their prey.The traditions of those bygonetimes, even to the smallest socialparticular, enable one to understand more clearly thecircumstanceswhich contributed to the formation of character. The daily lifeinto which people are born,


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ï»¿Project Gutenberg's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James JoyceThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManAuthor: James JoycePosting Date: July 2,2009 [EBook #4217]Release Date: July, 2003First Posted: December 8, 2001[Last updated: March 30,2014]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORTRAIT--ARTIST ASYOUNG MAN ***Produced by Col Choat.  HTML version by Al Haines.A Portrait of the Artist as a YoungManbyJames Joyce<p>_"Et ignotas animum dimittit in artes."Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII.,18._</p>Chapter 1Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow comingdownalong the road and this moocow that was coming down along the roadmet a nicens little boy named babytuckoo...His father told him that story: his father looked at him through aglass: he had a hairy face.Hewas baby tuckoo. The moocow came down the road where Betty Byrnelived: she sold lemon platt.    O,the wild rose blossoms    On the little green place.He sang that song. That was his song.    O, the greenwothe botheth.When you wet the bed first it is warm then it gets cold. His mother puton the oilsheet.That had the queer smell.His mother had a nicer smell than his father. She played on the pianothe sailor'shornpipe for him to dance. He danced:    Tralala lala,    Tralala tralaladdy,    Tralala lala,    Tralalalala.Uncle Charles and Dante clapped. They were older than his father andmother but uncle Charles wasolder than Dante.Dante had two brushes in her press. The brush with the maroon velvetback was forMichael Davitt and the brush with the green velvet backwas for Parnell. Dante gave him a cachou everytime he brought her apiece of tissue paper.The Vances lived in number seven. They had a different fatherandmother. They were Eileen's father and mother. When they were grown uphe was going to marryEileen. He hid under the table. His mother said:--O, Stephen will apologize.Dante said:--O, if not, theeagles will come and pull out his eyes.--    Pull out his eyes,    Apologize,    Apologize,    Pull out hiseyes.    Apologize,    Pull out his eyes,    Pull out his eyes,    Apologize.* * * * *The wide playgroundswere swarming with boys. All were shouting and theprefects urged them on with strong cries. Theevening air was pale andchilly and after every charge and thud of the footballers the greasyleather orbflew like a heavy bird through the grey light. He kept onthe fringe of his line, out of sight of his prefect,out of the reachof the rude feet, feigning to run now and then. He felt his body smalland weak amid thethrong of the players and his eyes were weak andwatery. Rody Kickham was not like that: he would becaptain of thethird line all the fellows said.Rody Kickham was a decent fellow but Nasty Roche was astink. RodyKickham had greaves in his number and a hamper in the refectory. NastyRoche had big hands.He called the Friday pudding dog-in-the-blanket.And one day he had asked:--What is your name?Stephenhad answered: Stephen Dedalus.Then Nasty Roche had said:--What kind of a name is that?And whenStephen had not been able to answer Nasty Roche had asked:--What is your father?Stephen hadanswered:--A gentleman.Then Nasty Roche had asked:--Is he a magistrate?He crept about from point topoint on the fringe of his line, makinglittle runs now and then. But his hands were bluish with cold. Hekepthis hands in the side pockets of his belted grey suit. That was a beltround his pocket. And belt wasalso to give a fellow a belt. One day afellow said to Cantwell:--I'd give you such a belt in asecond.Cantwell had answered:--Go and fight your match. Give Cecil Thunder a belt. I'd like to seeyou.He'd give you a toe in the rump for yourself.That was not a nice expression. His mother had told him notto speakwith the rough boys in the college. Nice mother! The first day in thehall of the castle when shehad said goodbye she had put up her veildouble to her nose to kiss him: and her nose and eyes were red.But hehad pretended not to see that she was going to cry. She was a nicemother but she was not so nicewhen she cried. And his father had givenhim two five-shilling pieces for pocket money. And his father hadtoldhim if he wanted anything to write home to him and, whatever he did,never to peach on a fellow.Then at the door of the castle the rectorhad shaken hands with his father and mother, his soutanefluttering inthe breeze, and the car had driven off with his father and mother onit. They had cried to himfrom the car, waving their hands:--Goodbye, Stephen, goodbye!--Goodbye, Stephen, goodbye!He was


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ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tarzan of the Apes, by Edgar Rice BurroughsThis eBook is for the useof anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: Tarzan of the ApesAuthor: Edgar Rice BurroughsRelease Date: June 23, 2008[EBook #78]Last updated: May 5, 2012Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERGEBOOK TARZAN OF THE APES ***Produced by Judith Boss.  HTML version by Al Haines.Tarzan of theApesByEdgar Rice Burroughs         CONTENTS      I  Out to Sea     II  The Savage Home    III  Life andDeath     IV  The Apes      V  The White Ape     VI  Jungle Battles    VII  The Light ofKnowledge   VIII  The Tree-top Hunter     IX  Man and Man      X  The Fear-Phantom     XI  "King of theApes"    XII  Man's Reason   XIII  His Own Kind    XIV  At the Mercy of the Jungle     XV  The ForestGod    XVI  "Most Remarkable"   XVII  Burials  XVIII  The Jungle Toll    XIX  The Call of thePrimitive     XX  Heredity    XXI  The Village of Torture   XXII  The Search Party  XXIII  BrotherMen   XXIV  Lost Treasure    XXV  The Outpost of the World   XXVI  The Height of Civilization  XXVII  TheGiant Again XXVIII  ConclusionChapter IOut to SeaI had this story from one who had no business to tell itto me, or toany other.  I may credit the seductive influence of an old vintage uponthe narrator for thebeginning of it, and my own skeptical incredulityduring the days that followed for the balance of thestrange tale.When my convivial host discovered that he had told me so much, and thatI was prone todoubtfulness, his foolish pride assumed the task the oldvintage had commenced, and so he unearthedwritten evidence in the formof musty manuscript, and dry official records of the British ColonialOffice tosupport many of the salient features of his remarkablenarrative.I do not say the story is true, for I did notwitness the happeningswhich it portrays, but the fact that in the telling of it to you I havetaken fictitiousnames for the principal characters quite sufficientlyevidences the sincerity of my own belief that it MAY betrue.The yellow, mildewed pages of the diary of a man long dead, and therecords of the Colonial Officedovetail perfectly with the narrative ofmy convivial host, and so I give you the story as Ipainstakinglypieced it out from these several various agencies.If you do not find it credible you will atleast be as one with me inacknowledging that it is unique, remarkable, and interesting.From the recordsof the Colonial Office and from the dead man's diarywe learn that a certain young English nobleman,whom we shall call JohnClayton, Lord Greystoke, was commissioned to make a peculiarlydelicateinvestigation of conditions in a British West Coast African Colony fromwhose simple nativeinhabitants another European power was known to berecruiting soldiers for its native army, which it usedsolely for theforcible collection of rubber and ivory from the savage tribes alongthe Congo and theAruwimi.  The natives of the British Colonycomplained that many of their young men were enticed awaythrough themedium of fair and glowing promises, but that few if any ever returnedto their families.TheEnglishmen in Africa went even further, saying that these poorblacks were held in virtual slavery, sinceafter their terms ofenlistment expired their ignorance was imposed upon by their whiteofficers, and theywere told that they had yet several years to serve.And so the Colonial Office appointed John Clayton to anew post inBritish West Africa, but his confidential instructions centered on athorough investigation of theunfair treatment of black Britishsubjects by the officers of a friendly European power.  Why he wassent,is, however, of little moment to this story, for he never made aninvestigation, nor, in fact, did he everreach his destination.Clayton was the type of Englishman that one likes best to associatewith the noblestmonuments of historic achievement upon a thousandvictorious battlefields--a strong, virileman--mentally, morally, andphysically.In stature he was above the average height; his eyes were gray,hisfeatures regular and strong; his carriage that of perfect, robusthealth influenced by his years of armytraining.Political ambition had caused him to seek transference from the army tothe Colonial Office and sowe find him, still young, entrusted with adelicate and important commission in the service of theQueen.When he received this appointment he was both elated and appalled.  Thepreferment seemed tohim in the nature of a well-merited reward forpainstaking and intelligent service, and as a stepping stoneto postsof greater importance and responsibility; but, on the other hand, hehad been married to the Hon.


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher, by Beatrix PotterThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: The Tale of Mr. Jeremy FisherAuthor: Beatrix PotterRelease Date: February 16,2005 [EBook #15077]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OFMR. JEREMY FISHER ***Produced by David Newman, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the PG OnlineDistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net[Transcriber's Note: This book is heavily illustrated;references to theillustrations have been removed from this text version. Please look forthe fully illustratedhtml version at http://www.gutenberg.net.]THE TALE OFMR. JEREMY FISHERBYBEATRIX POTTER_Authorof__"The Tale of Peter Rabbit," &c._FREDERICK WARNE & CO., INC.NEW YORKCOPYRIGHT,1906BYFREDERICK WARNE & COFORSTEPHANIEFROMCOUSIN B.Once upon a time there was a frogcalled Mr. Jeremy Fisher; he lived in alittle damp house amongst the buttercups at the edge of apond.The water was all slippy-sloppy in the larder and in the back passage.But Mr. Jeremy liked gettinghis feet wet; nobody ever scolded him, and henever caught a cold!He was quite pleased when he lookedout and saw large drops of rain,splashing in the pond--"I will get some worms and go fishing and catch adish of minnows for mydinner," said Mr. Jeremy Fisher. "If I catch more than five fish, I willinvite myfriends Mr. Alderman Ptolemy Tortoise and Sir Isaac Newton. TheAlderman, however, eats salad."Mr.Jeremy put on a macintosh, and a pair of shiny goloshes; he took hisrod and basket, and set off withenormous hops to the place where he kepthis boat.The boat was round and green, and very like the otherlily-leaves. It wastied to a water-plant in the middle of the pond.Mr. Jeremy took a reed pole, and pushedthe boat out into open water. "Iknow a good place for minnows," said Mr. Jeremy Fisher.Mr. Jeremy stuckhis pole into the mud and fastened the boat to it.Then he settled himself cross-legged and arranged hisfishing tackle. Hehad the dearest little red float. His rod was a tough stalk of grass, hisline was a fine longwhite horse-hair, and he tied a little wriggling wormat the end.The rain trickled down his back, and fornearly an hour he stared at thefloat."This is getting tiresome, I think I should like some lunch," saidMr.Jeremy Fisher.He punted back again amongst the water-plants, and took some lunch out ofhisbasket."I will eat a butterfly sandwich, and wait till the shower is over," saidMr. Jeremy Fisher.A great bigwater-beetle came up underneath the lily leaf and tweaked thetoe of one of his goloshes.Mr. Jeremycrossed his legs up shorter, out of reach, and went on eatinghis sandwich.Once or twice somethingmoved about with a rustle and a splash amongstthe rushes at the side of the pond."I trust that is not arat," said Mr. Jeremy Fisher; "I think I had betterget away from here."Mr. Jeremy shoved the boat outagain a little way, and dropped in thebait. There was a bite almost directly; the float gave atremendousbobbit!"A minnow! a minnow! I have him by the nose!" cried Mr. Jeremy Fisher,jerking up hisrod.But what a horrible surprise! Instead of a smooth fat minnow, Mr. Jeremylanded little Jack Sharp thestickleback, covered with spines!The stickleback floundered about the boat, pricking and snapping untilhewas quite out of breath. Then he jumped back into the water.And a shoal of other little fishes put theirheads out, and laughed atMr. Jeremy Fisher.And while Mr. Jeremy sat disconsolately on the edge of hisboat--suckinghis sore fingers and peering down into the water--a _much_ worse thinghappened; a really_frightful_ thing it would have been, if Mr. Jeremy hadnot been wearing a macintosh!A great bigenormous trout came up--ker-pflop-p-p-p! with a splash--andit seized Mr. Jeremy with a snap, "Ow! Ow!Ow!"--and then it turned anddived down to the bottom of the pond!But the trout was so displeased withthe taste of the macintosh, that inless than half a minute it spat him out again; and the only thingitswallowed was Mr. Jeremy's goloshes.Mr. Jeremy bounced up to the surface of the water, like a corkand thebubbles out of a soda water bottle; and he swam with all his might to theedge of the pond.Hescrambled out on the first bank he came to, and he hopped home acrossthe meadow with his macintoshall in tatters."What a mercy that was not a pike!" said Mr. Jeremy Fisher. "I have lostmy rod and basket;but it does not much matter, for I am sure I shouldnever have dared to go fishing again!"He put somesticking plaster on his fingers, and his friends both came todinner. He could not offer them fish, but he


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ï»¿The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Duke's Children, by Anthony TrollopeThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Duke's ChildrenAuthor: Anthony TrollopeRelease Date: January,2003    [eBook #3622]Most recently updated: August 20, 2007Language: English***START OF THEPROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DUKE'S CHILDREN***E-text prepared by Kenneth David Cooper andrevised by Joseph E.Loewenstein, M.D.THE DUKE'S CHILDRENbyANTHONY TROLLOPEFirst published inserial form in _All the Year Round_in 1879 and 1880 and in book form in 1880CONTENTS         I. Whenthe Duchess Was Dead        II. Lady Mary Palliser       III. Francis Oliphant Tregear        IV. ParkLane         V. "It Is Impossible"        VI. Major Tifto       VII. Conservative Convictions      VIII. "He Is aGentleman"        IX. "In Medias Res"         X. "Why Not Like Romeo If I Feel Like Romeo?"        XI."Cruel"       XII. At Richmond      XIII. The Duke's Injustice       XIV. The New Member forSilverbridge        XV. The Duke Receives a Letter,--and Writes One       XVI. "Poor Boy"      XVII. TheDerby     XVIII. One of the Results of the Derby       XIX. "No; My Lord, I Do Not"        XX. "Then He WillCome Again"       XXI. Sir Timothy Beeswax      XXII. The Duke in His Study     XXIII. Frank TregearWants a Friend      XXIV. "She Must Be Made to Obey"       XXV. A Family Breakfast-Table      XXVI.Dinner at the Beargarden     XXVII. Major Tifto and the Duke    XXVIII. Mrs. Montacute Jones'sGarden-Party      XXIX. The Lovers Meet       XXX. What Came of the Meeting      XXXI. Miss Boncassen'sRiver-Party. No. 1     XXXII. Miss Boncassen's River-Party. No. 2    XXXIII. The Langham Hotel     XXXIV.Lord Popplecourt      XXXV. "Don't You Think--?"     XXXVI. Tally-Ho Lodge    XXXVII. Grex   XXXVIII.Crummie-Toddie     XXXIX. Killancodlem        XL. "And Then!"       XLI. Ischl      XLII. Again atKillancodlem     XLIII. What Happened at Doncaster      XLIV. How It Was Done       XLV. "There Shall NotBe Another Word About It"      XLVI. Lady Mary's Dream     XLVII. Miss Boncassen's Idea ofHeaven    XLVIII. The Party at Custins Is Broken Up      XLIX. The Major's Fate         L. The Duke'sArguments        LI. The Duke's Guests       LII. Miss Boncassen Tells the Truth      LIII. "Then I Am AsProud As a Queen"       LIV. "I Don't Think She Is a Snake"        LV. Polpenno       LVI. The News Is Sentto Matching      LVII. The Meeting at "The Bobtailed Fox"     LVIII. The Major Is Deposed       LIX. No OneCan Tell What May Come to Pass        LX. Lord Gerald in Further Trouble       LXI. "Bone of MyBone"      LXII. The Brake Country     LXIII. "I've Seen 'Em Like That Before"      LXIV. "I Believe Him toBe a Worthy Young Man"       LXV. "Do You Ever Think What Money Is?"      LXVI. The ThreeAttacks     LXVII. "He Is Such a Beast"    LXVIII. Brook Street      LXIX. "Pert Poppet!"       LXX. "LoveMay Be a Great Misfortune"      LXXI. "What Am I to Say, Sir?"     LXXII. Carlton Terrace    LXXIII. "IHave Never Loved You"     LXXIV. "Let Us Drink a Glass of Wine Together"      LXXV. The Major'sStory     LXXVI. On Deportment    LXXVII. "Mabel, Good-Bye"   LXXVIII. The Duke Returns toOffice     LXXIX. The First Wedding      LXXX. The Second WeddingCHAPTER IWhen the Duchess WasDeadNo one, probably, ever felt himself to be more alone in the worldthan our old friend, the Duke ofOmnium, when the Duchess died. Whenthis sad event happened he had ceased to be Prime Minister.Duringthe first nine months after he had left office he and the Duchessremained in England. Then theyhad gone abroad, taking with themtheir three children. The eldest, Lord Silverbridge, had been atOxford,but had had his career there cut short by some more thanordinary youthful folly, which had induced hisfather to agree withthe college authorities that his name had better be taken off thecollege books,--allwhich had been cause of very great sorrow tothe Duke. The other boy was to go to Cambridge; but hisfather hadthought it well to give him a twelvemonth's run on the Continent,under his own inspection.Lady Mary, the only daughter, was theyoungest of the family, and she also had been with them ontheContinent. They remained the full year abroad, travelling with alarge accompaniment of tutors,lady's-maids, couriers, and sometimesfriends. I do not know that the Duchess or the Duke had enjoyeditmuch; but the young people had seen something of foreign courts andmuch of foreign scenery, and hadperhaps perfected their French. TheDuke had gone to work at his travels with a full determination


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ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Uncle Silas, by J. S. LeFanuThis eBook is for the use of anyoneanywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: Uncle Silas       A Tale of Bartram-HaughAuthor: J. S. LeFanuRelease Date:January 31, 2005 [EBook #14851]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKUNCLE SILAS ***Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bob McKillip and the Online DistributedProofreadingTeam.[Transcriber's note: The spelling inconsistencies of the original havebeen retained in thisetext.]UNCLE SILASA Tale of Bartram-HaughBy J. S. LeFanu1899TOTHE RIGHT HON.THE COUNTESS OFGIFFORD,AS A TOKEN OFRESPECT, SYMPATHY, AND ADMIRATION_This Tale_IS INSCRIBED BYTHEAUTHOR_A PRELIMINARY WORD_The writer of this Tale ventures, in his own person, to address a veryfewwords, chiefly of explanation, to his readers. A leading situation in this'Story of Bartram-Haugh' isrepeated, with a slight variation, from a shortmagazine tale of some fifteen pages written by him, andpublished long agoin a periodical under the title of 'A Passage in the Secret History of anIrish Countess,'and afterwards, still anonymously, in a small volume underan altered title. It is very unlikely that any ofhis readers should haveencountered, and still more so that they should remember, this trifle. Thebarepossibility, however, he has ventured to anticipate by this briefexplanation, lest he should be chargedwith plagiarism--always a disrespectto a reader.May he be permitted a few words also of remonstranceagainst thepromiscuous application of the term 'sensation' to that large school offiction whichtransgresses no one of those canons of construction andmorality which, in producing the unapproachable'Waverley Novels,' theirgreat author imposed upon himself? No one, it is assumed, would describeSirWalter Scott's romances as 'sensation novels;' yet in that marvellousseries there is not a single tale inwhich death, crime, and, in some form,mystery, have not a place.Passing by those grand romances of'Ivanhoe,' 'Old Mortality,' and'Kenilworth,' with their terrible intricacies of crime andbloodshed,constructed with so fine a mastery of the art of exciting suspense andhorror, let the readerpick out those two exceptional novels in the serieswhich profess to paint contemporary manners and thescenes of common life;and remembering in the 'Antiquary' the vision in the tapestried chamber,the duel,the horrible secret, and the death of old Elspeth, the drownedfisherman, and above all the tremendoussituation of the tide-bound partyunder the cliffs; and in 'St. Ronan's Well,' the long-drawn mystery,thesuspicion of insanity, and the catastrophe of suicide;--determine whetheran epithet which it would bea profanation to apply to the structure ofany, even the most exciting of Sir Walter Scott's stories, isfairlyapplicable to tales which, though illimitably inferior in execution, yetobserve the same limitations ofincident, and the same moral aims.The author trusts that the Press, to whose masterly criticism andgenerousencouragement he and other humble labourers in the art owe so much, willinsist upon thelimitation of that degrading term to the peculiar type offiction which it was originally intended to indicate,and prevent, as theymay, its being made to include the legitimate school of tragic Englishromance, whichhas been ennobled, and in great measure founded, by thegenius of Sir WalterScott.CONTENTSCHAPTERI. AUSTIN RUTHYN, OF KNOWL, AND HIS DAUGHTERII. UNCLE SILASIII. ANEW FACEIV. MADAME DE LA ROUGIERREV. SIGHTS AND NOISESVI. A WALK IN THE WOODVII. CHURCHSCARSDALEVIII. THE SMOKERIX. MONICA KNOLLYSX. LADY KNOLLYS REMOVES A COVERLETXI. LADYKNOLLYS SEES THE FEATURESXII. A CURIOUS CONVERSATIONXIII. BEFORE AND AFTER BREAKFASTXIV.ANGRY WORDSXV. A WARNINGXVI. DOCTOR BRYERLY LOOKS INXVII. AN ADVENTUREXVIII. AMIDNIGHT VISITORXIX. AU REVOIRXX. AUSTIN RUTHYN SETS OUT ON HIS JOURNEYXXI. ARRIVALSXXII.SOMEBODY IN THE ROOM WITH THE COFFINXXIII. I TALK WITH DOCTOR BRYERLYXXIV. THE OPENINGOF THE WILLXXV. I HEAR FROM UNCLE SILASXXVI. THE STORY OF UNCLE SILASXXVII. MORE ABOUTTOM CHARKE'S SUICIDEXXVIII. I AM PERSUADEDXXIX. HOW THE AMBASSADOR FAREDXXX. ON THEROADXXXI. BARTRAM-HAUGHXXXII. UNCLE SILASXXXIII. THE WINDMILL WOODXXXIV. ZAMIELXXXV.WE VISIT A ROOM IN THE SECOND STOREYXXXVI. AN ARRIVAL AT DEAD OF NIGHTXXXVII. DOCTORBRYERLY EMERGESXXXVIII. A MIDNIGHT DEPARTUREXXXIX. COUSIN MONICA AND UNCLE SILAS


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Queen of the Black Coast, by Robert E. HowardThis eBook is for theuse of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give itaway orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: Queen of the Black CoastAuthor: Robert E. HowardRelease Date: February 24,2013 [EBook #42183]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEEN OFTHE BLACK COAST ***Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed ProofreadingTeam at http://www.pgdp.net                     QUEEN OF THE BLACK COAST                       By Robert E.Howard    [Transcriber's Note: This etext was first published in Weird Tales    May 1934. Extensiveresearch did not uncover any evidence that the    U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]1Conan Joins the Pirates    _Believe green buds awaken in the spring,      That autumn paints the leaveswith somber fire;    Believe I held my heart inviolate      To lavish on one man my hot desire._    THESONG OF BÃLITHoofs drummed down the street that sloped to the wharfs. The folk thatyelled andscattered had only a fleeting glimpse of a mailed figure on ablack stallion, a wide scarlet cloak flowing outon the wind. Far up thestreet came the shout and clatter of pursuit, but the horseman did notlook back.He swept out onto the wharfs and jerked the plunging stallionback on its haunches at the very lip of thepier. Seamen gaped up athim, as they stood to the sweep and striped sail of ahigh-prowed,broad-waisted galley. The master, sturdy and black-bearded, stood in thebows, easing heraway from the piles with a boat-hook. He yelled angrilyas the horseman sprang from the saddle and witha long leap landedsquarely on the mid-deck.'Who invited you aboard?''Get under way!' roared theintruder with a fierce gesture thatspattered red drops from his broadsword.'But we're bound for thecoasts of Kush!' expostulated the master.'Then I'm for Kush! Push off, I tell you!' The other cast a quickglanceup the street, along which a squad of horsemen were galloping; farbehind them toiled a group ofarchers, crossbows on their shoulders.'Can you pay for your passage?' demanded the master.'I pay myway with steel!' roared the man in armor, brandishing thegreat sword that glittered bluely in the sun. 'ByCrom, man, if youdon't get under way, I'll drench this galley in the blood of its crew!'The shipmaster wasa good judge of men. One glance at the dark scarredface of the swordsman, hardened with passion, andhe shouted a quickorder, thrusting strongly against the piles. The galley wallowed outinto clear water, theoars began to clack rhythmically; then a puff ofwind filled the shimmering sail, the light ship heeled to thegust, thentook her course like a swan, gathering headway as she skimmed along.On the wharfs the riderswere shaking their swords and shouting threatsand commands that the ship put about, and yelling for thebowmen tohasten before the craft was out of arbalest range.'Let them rave,' grinned the swordsmanhardily. 'Do you keep her on hercourse, master steersman.'The master descended from the small deckbetween the bows, made his waybetween the rows of oarsmen, and mounted the mid-deck. Thestrangerstood there with his back to the mast, eyes narrowed alertly, swordready. The shipman eyed himsteadily, careful not to make any movetoward the long knife in his belt. He saw a tall powerfully builtfigurein a black scale-mail hauberk, burnished greaves and a blue-steel helmetfrom which jutted bull'shorns highly polished. From the mailedshoulders fell the scarlet cloak, blowing in the sea-wind. Abroadshagreen belt with a golden buckle held the scabbard of the broadswordhe bore. Under the hornedhelmet a square-cut black mane contrasted withsmoldering blue eyes.'If we must travel together,' saidthe master, 'we may as well be atpeace with each other. My name is Tito, licensed master-shipman oftheports of Argos. I am bound for Kush, to trade beads and silks and sugarand brass-hilted swords to theblack kings for ivory, copra, copper ore,slaves and pearls.'The swordsman glanced back at the rapidlyreceding docks, where thefigures still gesticulated helplessly, evidently having trouble infinding a boatswift enough to overhaul the fast-sailing galley.'I am Conan, a Cimmerian,' he answered. 'I came intoArgos seekingemployment, but with no wars forward, there was nothing to which I mightturn myhand.''Why do the guardsmen pursue you?' asked Tito. 'Not that it's any of mybusiness, but I thoughtperhaps----''I've nothing to conceal,' replied the Cimmerian. 'By Crom, though I'vespent considerabletime among you civilized peoples, your ways are stillbeyond my comprehension.'Well, last night in a


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's He Walked Around the Horses, by Henry Beam PiperThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: He Walked Around the HorsesAuthor: Henry Beam PiperIllustrator:CartierRelease Date: July 11, 2006 [EBook #18807]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECTGUTENBERG EBOOK HE WALKED AROUND THE HORSES ***Produced by Greg Weeks, William Woods andthe OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.netTranscriber's note:This etext wasproduced from Astounding Science Fiction April 1948.Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the copyrighton this publication was renewed.[Illustration]HE WALKEDAROUND THE HORSESBY H.BEAM PIPERIllustrated by Cartier_This tale is based on an authenticated,documented fact. A manvanished--rightout of this world. And where he went--__In November 1809, an Englishman namedBenjamin Bathurst vanished,inexplicably and utterly.__He was en route to Hamburg from Vienna, wherehe had been servingas his government's envoy to the court of what Napoleon had leftof the AustrianEmpire. At an inn in Perleburg, in Prussia, whileexamining a change of horses for his coach, he casuallysteppedout of sight of his secretary and his valet. He was not seen toleave the inn yard. He was not seenagain, ever.__At least, not in this continuum...._(From Baron Eugen von Krutz, Minister of Police, to HisExcellencythe Count von Berchtenwald, Chancellor to His Majesty FriedrichWilhelm III of Prussia.)25November, 1809Your Excellency:A circumstance has come to the notice of this Ministry, thesignificance ofwhich I am at a loss to define, but, since itappears to involve matters of State, both here and abroad, Iamconvinced that it is of sufficient importance to be brought toyour personal attention. Frankly, I amunwilling to take anyfurther action in the matter without your advice.Briefly, the situation is this: We areholding, here at theMinistry of Police, a person giving his name as Benjamin Bathurst,who claims to be aBritish diplomat. This person was taken intocustody by the police at Perleburg yesterday, as a result ofadisturbance at an inn there; he is being detained on technicalcharges of causing disorder in a publicplace, and of being asuspicious person. When arrested, he had in his possession adispatch case,containing a number of papers; these are of such anextraordinary nature that the local authoritiesdeclined to assumeany responsibility beyond having the man sent here to Berlin.After interviewing thisperson and examining his papers, I am,I must confess, in much the same position. This is not, Iamconvinced, any ordinary police matter; there is something verystrange and disturbing here. The man'sstatements, taken alone,are so incredible as to justify the assumption that he is mad. Icannot, however,adopt this theory, in view of his demeanor,which is that of a man of perfect rationality, and because oftheexistence of these papers. The whole thing is mad; incomprehensible!The papers in questionaccompany, along with copies of thevarious statements taken at Perleburg, a personal letter to mefrommy nephew, Lieutenant Rudolf von Tarlburg. This last isdeserving of your particular attention; Lieutenantvon Tarlburgis a very level-headed young officer, not at all inclined to befanciful or imaginative. It wouldtake a good deal to affect himas he describes.The man calling himself Benjamin Bathurst is now lodged inanapartment here at the Ministry; he is being treated with everyconsideration, and, except for freedom ofmovement, accordedevery privilege.I am, most anxiously awaiting your advice, et cetera, etcetera,Krutz(Report of Traugott Zeller, _Oberwachtmeister_, _Staatspolizei_,made at Perleburg, 25November, 1809.)At about ten minutes past two of the afternoon of Saturday, 25November, while I wasat the police station, there entered a manknown to me as Franz Bauer, an inn servant employed byChristianHauck, at the sign of the Sword & Scepter, here in Perleburg.This man Franz Bauer madecomplaint to _Staatspolizeikapitan_Ernst Hartenstein, saying that there was a madman making troubleatthe inn where he, Franz Bauer, worked. I was, therefore,directed, by _Staatspolizeikapitan_ Hartenstein,to go to theSword & Scepter Inn, there to act at discretion to maintain thepeace.Arriving at the inn incompany with the said Franz Bauer, I founda considerable crowd of people in the common room, and, inthemidst of them, the innkeeper, Christian Hauck, in altercation witha stranger. This stranger was agentlemanly-appearing person,dressed in traveling clothes, who had under his arm a smallleather


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<title>Field of Dreams Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description"content="Field of Dreams script at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords"content="Field of Dreams script, Field of Dreams movie script, Field of Dreams film script"><metaname="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" /><meta name="HandheldFriendly"content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><metahttp-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><meta name=objecttype CONTENT=Document><metaname=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><meta name=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Filmscripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><meta name=distribution content=Global><metaname=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><link href="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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<title>Gang Related Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description" content="GangRelated script at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords" content="Gang Relatedscript, Gang Related movie script, Gang Related film script"><meta name="viewport"content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" /><meta name="HandheldFriendly"content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><metahttp-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><meta name=objecttype CONTENT=Document><metaname=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><meta name=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Filmscripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><meta name=distribution content=Global><metaname=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><link href="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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<title>Dog Day Afternoon Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description"content="Dog Day Afternoon script at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords"content="Dog Day Afternoon script, Dog Day Afternoon movie script, Dog Day Afternoon filmscript"><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" /><metaname="HandheldFriendly" content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1"><meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><meta name=objecttypeCONTENT=Document><meta name=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><meta name=SubjectCONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><metaname=distribution content=Global><meta name=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><linkhref="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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<title>Blade Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description" content="Blade script atthe Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords" content="Blade script, Blade moviescript, Blade film script"><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"/><meta name="HandheldFriendly" content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type"content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><metaname=objecttype CONTENT=Document><meta name=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><metaname=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><metaname=distribution content=Global><meta name=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><linkhref="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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<title>Serenity Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description" content="Serenityscript at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords" content="Serenity script,Serenity movie script, Serenity film script"><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width,initial-scale=1" /><meta name="HandheldFriendly" content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type"content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><metaname=objecttype CONTENT=Document><meta name=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><metaname=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><metaname=distribution content=Global><meta name=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><linkhref="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David LindsayThis eBook is for the use ofanyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.orgTitle: A Voyage to ArcturusAuthor: David LindsayPosting Date: September 17, 2008[EBook #1329]Release Date: May, 1998[Last updated: June 28, 2012]Language: English*** START OFTHIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS ***Produced by An Anonymous VolunteerAVOYAGE TO ARCTURUS.By David LindsayContents:     1   The Seance     2   In theStreet     3   Starkness     4   The Voice     5   The Night ofDeparture     6   Joiwind     7   Panawe     8   The Lusion Plain     9   Oceaxe     10  Tydomin     11  OnDisscourn     12  Spadevil     13  The Wombflash Forest     14  Polecrab     15  Swaylone's Island     16  Leehallfae     17  Corpang     18  Haunte     19  Sullenbode     20  Barey     21  MuspelChapter 1. THESEANCEOn a march evening, at eight o'clock, Backhouse, the medium--afast-rising star in the psychicworld--was ushered into the studyat Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The roomwasilluminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying himwith indolent curiosity, got up, andthe usual conventional greetingswere exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire tohisguest, the South American merchant sank back again into his own. Theelectric light was switched on.Faull's prominent, clear-cut features,metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, didnotseem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard menfrom a special angle.Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to themerchant. As he tranquilly studied him through halfclosed lids and thesmoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with thepointed beardcontrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, inview of the morbid nature of his occupation."Doyou smoke?" drawled Faull, by way of starting the Conversation. "No?Then will you take a drink?""Not atpresent, I thank you."A pause."Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?""I see noreason to doubt it.""That's good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I haveyour checkwritten out in my pocket.""Afterward will do quite well.""Nine o'clock was the time specified, I believe?""Ifancy so."The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, andremained apathetic."Wouldyou care to hear what arrangements I have made?""I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairsfor your guests.""I mean the decoration of the seance room, the music, and so forth."Backhouse staredat his host. "But this is not a theatricalperformance.""That's correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... Therewill be ladiespresent, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.""In that case I have no objection. Ionly hope they will enjoy theperformance to the end."He spoke rather dryly."Well, that's all right, then,"said Faull. Flicking his cigar into thefire, he got up and helped himself to whisky."Will you come and seethe room?""Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the timearrives.""Then let's go to seemy sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the drawingroom. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as myhostess, as I amunmarried.""I will be delighted," said Backhouse coldly.They found the lady alone, sittingby the open pianoforte in a pensiveattitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. Themediumtook in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands,and wondered how Faull cameby such a sister. She received him bravely,with just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to suchreceptions atthe hands of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them."What amazes me," she halfwhispered, after ten minutes of graceful,hollow conversation, "is, if you must know it, not so muchthemanifestation itself--though that will surely be wonderful--asyour assurance that it will take place. Tellme the grounds of yourconfidence.""I dream with open eyes," he answered, looking around at the door,"andothers see my dreams. That is all.""But that's beautiful," responded Mrs. Jameson. She smiledratherabsently, for the first guest had just entered.It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated forhis shrewd judicialhumour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carryinto privatelife. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyeswere still disconcertingly bright. With theselective skill of an oldman, he immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of manycomfortablechairs."So we are to see wonders tonight?""Fresh material for your autobiography," remarked Faull."Ah,


<title>Sister Act Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description" content="Sister Actscript at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords" content="Sister Act script,Sister Act movie script, Sister Act film script"><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width,initial-scale=1" /><meta name="HandheldFriendly" content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type"content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><metaname=objecttype CONTENT=Document><meta name=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><metaname=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><metaname=distribution content=Global><meta name=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><linkhref="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"><tablewidth="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">

The Internet Movie Script Database(IMSDb)

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