The Deluge

“Hania.”
Yanko the Musician, and Other Stories, 1 vol.
Lillian Morris, and Other Stories, 1 vol.
***The tales and sketches included in these two volumes are now

THE DELUGE.
An Historical Novel
OF
POLAND, SWEDEN, AND RUSSIA.
A SEQUEL TO
“WITH FIRE AND SWORD.”
BY
HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ.
AUTHORIZED AND UNABRIDGED TRANSLATION FROM

TO HON. CHARLES A. DANA,
Editor of “The Sun,”
New York.
Sir,—I beg to dedicate to you this translation of a remarkable work,

Southern Russia with Poland to win religious and material equality.
The two fundamental events of Polish history are the settlement of the

kingdom which is in fact the creator and head of that Empire.
Prussia in the thirteenth century extended from the Vistula eastward to

their conversion was likely to be of a more difficult nature.
At the end of the tenth and in the beginning of the thirteenth

servitude, the Prussians were roused greatly against it.
Christian strove to obtain relief for his converts, but in vain. Then,

created first Bishop of Prussia, and returned again to the field.
The great body of Prussians now considered all converts as traitors.

were killed, captured, or driven to deep forests.
Christian turned to the Pope a third time, and implored him to direct

against Prussia those Poles who were going to the Holy Land.
The Archbishop of Gnezen was instructed from Rome to make this change,

Livonian Knights of the Sword,—that is, the rules of the Templars.
The new knights were called Brothers of Dobjin, from the castle of

Leslin near Inovratslav as a means of support.
As soon as the Brothers had settled in their castle, they attacked the

and a general levy hastened to the relief of the order.
A bloody and stubborn battle of two days’ duration was fought with

point of view, was accepted by the Prince of Mazovia.
The Teutonic Order was founded in Palestine near the end of the twelfth

Jerusalem till the capture of the city by Saracens in 1187.
In a few years the new order became

The first book in the series of novels by the author, "The Last Book of the Romance of the Jews" is a collection of essays on the history of the Jewish community. It is based on the story of the first book of the series, which was published in 1897. The first edition of the book was published by the publisher of the second edition of "The Third Book of The Romance" in 1898.

It came from nowhere. The only warning was the endless rumbling of a growing earthquake. Then the water came--crashing, rushing water, covering everything. Destroying everything. When it stopped, all that was left was the gentle lapping of waves against the few remaining buildings rising above the surface of the sea.
Will the isolated survivors be able to rebuild their lives, their civilization, when nearly all they knew has been wiped out? It seems hopeless. But what lurks beneath the swirling water, waiting to emerge, is far worse. When the floodwaters finally recede, the true horror will be


A Christmas Hamper

A Very Naughty Little Person.
Poor Uncle Tom.
A Snow Man.
Not Such Fun as it Seemed.
On The Sands.
Old Clothes.
The Little Tiny Thing.
Questions.
A Lesson in Manners.
The Prize Boat.
The Little Thief in the Pantry.
Great-Grandmother’s Wish.

I ’M told I’m very naughty
I almost ’spect I am;
But, somehow, when I shut the door
It’s nearly sure to slam.

Can you tell why my shoe-strings break
And tie themselves in knots,
And how it is my copy-books
Are always full of blots?

It seems as if too many blots
Lived in one pot of ink;
But when they’re wet and shiny,
They’re pretty, don’t you think?

Why does my hair get tangled?
What makes me talk all day?
And why don’t toys and books just try
To put themselves away?

I think that p’r’aps I might be good
A little, by-and-by;
It’s very hard, but sometimes
I almost ’spect I’ll try.

But now they say I’m naughty,
And p’r’aps it’s nearly true;
There are so many naughty things
For little folks to do.

is Lily, and this is Tom.”
The old gentleman looked a little quickly at Tom.
“Who is he named after?” he said.
The children’s faces grew grave.
“He is named after poor Uncle Tom,” said Lily in a

in the church just where we can see it from our pew.”
“And we always sings about the saints of God on

so fond of poor Uncle Tom, and says he was so good.”
The old gentleman sat silent, staring hard at the ground.
“Is it long since Uncle Tom went away?” he said

ten years, and it has seemed like a hundred.”
The children looked at one another surprised.
“Did you ever know Uncle Tom?” asked Hugh

curiously.
“Yes, I knew him well. I was on his ship.”
“But you aren’t drowned!” cried Lily.
The old gentleman smiled.
“No,” he said, “I wasn’t drowned; I got off safe.

in the park, and I was to go and see it if I ever got home.”
“Oh, I’ll show you,” said little Tom. “It is on a

beech tree close by here. I’ll show you. There it is.”
He pointed to a tree on which some initials and a date

and then he gave a

The story of a young girl who is a little girl and is naughty.

'A Christmas Hamper' is a volume of pictures and stories for little folks. It tells children about friendship, the family values and the winter traditions, such as winter plays, the Christmas legends and fairies.
'A Christmas Hamper' was originally published by Thomas Nelson & Sons in 1899.
The 'Animedia Press' e-book edition (2012) contains the illustrations, which were carefully restored by a publisher.


The Burglar's Fate and the Detectives (Pinkerton, #14)

toiled for the honest competence they so fully enjoy.
Nor is the town dependent alone upon the farmer and the herdsman for its

thriving business and reap a handsome profit on their wares.
The old mill, weather-beaten and white with the accumulating flour dust

the various matters of business which had brought them hither.
In common with all progressive American towns, Geneva boasts of its

homes after the labors of the day.
At the little bank in Geneva the day has been an active one. Numerous

affairs of the merchants and farmers round about are transacted.
The last depositor has departed, and the door has just been closed. The

men, and led to the assault which had just been successfully committed.
No time was to be lost, the alarm might be sounded in a moment, and the

in the satchel and prepared to leave the place.
Before doing so, however, they dragged the helpless bodies of the young

they deliberately closed the doors and locked them in.
Not a word had been spoken during this entire proceeding, and now, in

recklessly plunged, and made their way safely out of the village.
How long the two persons remained in the bank it is impossible to tell;

as I hoped, lead to eventual success.[Pg 25]
Giving John Manning full instructions as to his mode of proceeding, and

and enter at once upon the performance of his duties.
In a very short time Manning had made his preparations, and at eight

train that was to bear him to his new field of operation.
After a journey of several hours, in which the detective endeavored to

station at Geneva, and Manning was upon the ground.
It was two o'clock in the morning when he arrived, consequently there

the only persons who greeted him upon his arrival.
Having never been to Geneva before, and being entirely ignorant of the

him like old bones, and in a few moments was sound asleep.
How long he might have remained in this somnolent condition if left to

cut short his slumbers, and startled him from his dreams.
Imaginin

The story of a young man who is a detective in the town of Geneva. He is unable to find his way back to the small bank where he lives. His father, a farmer, is preparing for the assault which has just been successfully committed.

Allan Pinkerton, head of Pinkerton Detective Agency, narrates true story $20K stolen from bank in small western town of Geneva USA 18 August 18-. John Manning tracks four burglars from New York to Denver in atmosphere of "dilapidated wash-stand", "uninviting quarters", "couch which rattled and creaked under him like old bones". Illustrations online from gutenberg.org


A Bullet for Cinderella

was just four miles from the Hillston city limits.
Once I saw the room I decided that it would do. It would be a good

wouldn't make any difference at all.
When at last the rain eased up I went and found a small roadside

some drinks and think about it and wonder how I could do it.
Maybe you saw pictures of us, the ones who were really bad off when the

went right into hospital and they started feeding me through a tube.
It was during the months in the military hospital back in this country

than that. I didn't tell them any of the stuff Timmy had told me.
We were both captured at the same time in that action near the

already been written about how it was. It wasn't good.
That prison camp experience can change your attitude toward life and

fanatic than anybody else. He had to get back.
He told me about it one night. That was after he'd gotten pretty weak.

to me. I couldn't see his face.
"Tal, I've got to get back and straighten something out. I've got to.

to get it straightened out."
"What was it you wanted?"
"I wanted it and I got it, but I can't use it now. I wanted her too,

and had her, but she's no good to me now."
"I'm not following this so good, Timmy."
He told me the story then. He had been in business with his brother

we'd have to have money. So I started to steal."
He told me how he did it. A lot of the gimmicks didn't make much sense

thing. I've had too much chance to think it over."
"How do you know she hasn't taken the money and left?"
"I didn't tell her where I put it. It's still there. Nobody can find

his head. I listened to him rave. I listened to every word he said.
But in his raving he never gave away the hiding place. It was in a

caught my wrist with his wasted hand. "I'm not going to make it, Tal."
"You'll make it."
"No. You go back there and straighten it out. You can do that. Tell

George. Give him the money. Tell him everything."
"Sure. Where is the money?"
"Tell him everything."
"Where's the money hidden?"
"Cindy

The story of a young man who steals money from his brother. He is in business with his brother and they'd have to have money. So he started to steal.

Her veneer was big city ... but one look and you knew that Toni Rassell's instincts were straight out of the river shack she came from. I watched her as she toyed with the man, laughing, her tumbled hair like raw blue-black silk, her brown shoulders bare. Eyes deep-set, a girl with a gypsy look. So this was the girl I had risked my life to find. This was the girl who was going to lead me to a buried fortune in stolen loot.


A Bride of the Plains

A BRIDE OF THE PLAINS
[Pg 9]
CHAPTER I
"God bless them all! they are good lads."
It was now close on eight o'clock and more than two hours ago since

maize to quiver with delight at the warmth of his kiss.
The plain stretched its limitless expanse as far as human eye can

plume-crowned crests shimmering like foam in the sunlight.
As far as human eye can see!—and further, much further still!—the sea

yellow carcases of the pumpkins crack and shiver in the growing heat.
An ocean of tall maize and gaily-coloured pumpkins as far as the eye can

riotous, flaunting their crude colouring in the glowing sunlight.
Here and there the dull, dark green of hemp breaks the unvarying

slow course lazily toward the parent stream.
An ocean of maize and of pumpkins and of sunflowers, with here and there

red-painted roof stands out clear and abrupt against the sky.
And now the sharp, cracked sound of the Elevation bell breaks the

of Marosfalva should still be absent from the fields.
Hej! But stranger, what would you! Such a day is this fourteenth of

blackest, most God-forsaken day in the whole year!
You did not know? You cannot guess? Then what kind of a stranger are you

care one brass fillér, has so decreed it.
Mind you, it is the same in all the other villages, and in every town in

to-day and taken away from us for three years.
Three years! Why, the lad is a mere child when he goes—one-and-twenty

time to time to keep him from drink and too much love-making.
Three years! When he comes back he is a man, has notions of his own, has

bare-headed and comfortably dirty from head to foot.
Three years! And what are the chances that he come back at all? Bosnia?

Budapest and who are therefore free to court and free to marry.
Aye! Aye! That's how it is. They must go through with it, though they

to serve the hateful government.
No, no! It is no use trying to get out of it. They[Pg 14] measure you, and

follow some fool of a German officer on water?
They could not swea

The first book in the series of novels by author and illustrator David A. Reilly, which was published in 1897, is a collection of short stories about the life of the writer and his family. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author.

The story is set in Hungary and the scene is laid in a village close to the Maros.
On this particular fourteenth of September it is Andor's turn to go unwillingly into the army for three years. On the eve preceding it, at the village merrymaking, as the whole population spends its last happy hours trying to forget the hideous events that will occur in the morning, he tokens himself to Elsa the village beauty.
When Andor returns from Bosnia, his village has changed, but so has he.


A Man of Genius

final form being, perhaps, not even yet altogether attained.
The idea that genius was a special morbid condition had indeed often

existence of a lesser degree of psychosis in other men of genius.
But, adds Joly, genius is often precocious; as Raphael at fourteen years

development of one faculty at the expense of others?
The man of genius is a monster, say others. Very well, but even monsters

all natural phenomena. Natura non facit saltus.
I must confess here that very often in this book I have had to confound

learning, but the man who works and eats—fruges consumere natus.
But our nature, it is customary to say, revolts against a conception

adored by the masses who often confide to him supreme authority.
In modern times the same conviction has been preserved, but in a form,

have attempted to do here—this general opinion is attached to a theory.
By some of those persons who have too much good sense—and who do not

in art.
CHAPTER IV.
Political and Religious Lunatics and Mattoids242-313
Part played by the insane in the progressive movements of

teratologic forms of the human mind, a variety of insanity.
This impious profanation is not, however, altogether the work of

Socrates, Empedocles, Plato, and in many others, especially poets.”[6]
In the Phædo, Plato affirms that “delirium is by no means an evil,

deeds of heroes, serves for the instruction of future generations.”
Democritus was more explicit, and would not believe that there could be

writer in Sketches of Bedlam (London, 1873).
On the other hand, it was shown in Lélut’s Démon de Socrate (1836) and

from his predecessors, without profiting greatly by their work.
Among recent writers, I note Tarnowski and Tchukinova, who to the

from various points of view which have escaped even recent observers.
A theory, which has for some years flourished in the psychiatric world,

more rapid and fatal, is only stopped by complete idiocy or sterility.
Alienists have noted certain characters which very

The book is a collection of essays by the author, including his most recent work, "The Man of genius" (1996).

Samuel Grafton-Hall is a man of genius who demands reverence from all. A renowned architect, his point of view is not universally shared by students, critics, and colleagues - but this is of little consequence to Grafton-Hall, for he revels in his misanthropy.
Immune to the barbs of the masses, Grafton-Hall also suffers no qualms about his personal peccadilloes and perversions. An unrepentant womanizer, Grafton-Hall leaves colleagues, friends, and lovers deeply scarred from having known him.
And then there is the murder. The question of guilt is of less consequence than the question of whether


Addison (The Mitchell/Healy Family #6)

CHAPTER I.
THE STATE OF ENGLISH SOCIETY AND LETTERS AFTER THE RESTORATION.
Of the four English men of letters whose writings most fully embody the

can hardly have been deficient in force of character.
Nor would it have been possible for a writer distinguished by mere

which wit had been led astray by profligacy, and virtue by fanaticism.”
This verdict of a great critic is accepted by an age to which the grounds

generation Cowley was accounted a greater poet than Milton.
To estimate Addison at his real value we must regard him as the chief

bigotry against the irresistible tide of enlightened progress.
It would be of course entirely out of place to discuss here the merits of

as incompatible with the doctrines of revealed religion.
The truth indeed seems to be the exact converse of what is alleged by the

patrimony of knowledge which was left us by our forefathers.”
All this is, in substance, true of our political as well as our

impression they tend to create is entirely erroneous.
If we have been hitherto saved from such corruption as undermined the

extraordinary merits of the success that he achieved.
There was, to begin with, a vehement opposition between town and country.

and good taste which we now attach to the name of “gentleman.”
Two main currents of opinion divided the country, to one of which a man

off in one of the fictitious letters in the Spectator:
“I am now between fifty and sixty, and had the honour to be well with

a setting dog has as good reason as any man in England.”[2]
While opinions, which from different sides struck at the very roots of

of the spectator insensibly recalled those of Charles the Second.
Everything in these tragedies is unreal, strained, and affected. In order

I am to rise and speak the epilogue!”[3]
By way of compensation, however, the writers of the period poured forth

the Caroline comedians among the number, says of them:
“They are a world of themselves almost as much as fairy-land. Take one

our ances

The first book in the series of novels by the author, a collection of short stories and essays by the writer, whose characters are based on the life of the author.

Addison is the youngest daughter of Colt and Savanna Mitchell.She's also turned out to be the most trouble during her adolescence. Now that a few years have passed since her last bout of problems, she's gotten back into the good graces of her whole family, by securing a job, and also donating her free time to community outreaches for those suffering from addictions. When Addison meets a guy and falls head over heels she knows her parents won't accept him, not when he carries last name Chase. Can he prove that he's not evil like the rest of his family, or will his blood ties keep Addison from h


The tale of Jemima puddle-duck

them go cold; you know you would!"
"I wish to hatch my own eggs; I will hatch them all by myself," quacked

Jemima Puddle-duck.
Carried Off
She tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off.
Jemima Puddle-duck became quite desperate. She determined to make a nest

right away from the farm.
Setting Off
She set off on a fine spring afternoon along the cart-road that leads over

the hill.
She was wearing a shawl and a poke bonnet.
Top of A Hill
When she reached the top of the hill, she saw a wood in the distance.
She thought that it looked a safe quiet spot.
Starting to Fly
Jemima Puddle-duck was not much in the habit of flying. She ran downhill a

few yards flapping her shawl, and then she jumped off into the air.
Soaring
She flew beautifully when she had got a good start.
She skimmed along over the tree-tops until she saw an open place in the

middle of the wood, where the trees and brushwood had been cleared.
Fox-gloves
Jemima alighted rather heavily, and began to waddle about in search of a

gentleman reading a newspaper.
He had black prick ears and sandy coloured whiskers.
"Quack?" said Jemima Puddle-duck, with her head and her bonnet on one

he was sitting upon, as the stump was somewhat damp.
Jemima thought him mighty civil and handsome. She explained that she had

coat-tail pocket.
Jemima complained of the superfluous hen.
"Indeed! how interesting! I wish I could meet with that fowl. I would

teach it to mind its own business!"
The Shed
"But as to a nest—there is no difficulty: I have a sackful of feathers in

there as long as you like," said the bushy long-tailed gentleman.
He led the way to a very retired, dismal-looking house amongst the

top of another, by way of a chimney.
Closing the Door
"This is my summer residence; you would not find my earth—my winter

house—so convenient," said the hospitable gentleman.
There was a tumble-down shed at the back of the house, made of old

soap-boxes. The gentleman opened

The story of Jemima Puddle-duck is a tale of love, friendship, and the power of the hen.

Searching for a convenient nesting place, befuddled Jemima Puddle-Duck chooses a fox's den and is then rescued by barnyard collie and pups from the fox's cooking pot.


Sylvia

he was asking.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I am on a ‘stand.’”
“Of course,” he replied; again there was a

Shirley?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“And do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Miss Castleman.”
“Our families are old friends, you know.”
“Yes, I know it.”
“And then, tell me—” She paused. “Honestly!”
“Why—yes.”
“I’ve been honest and told you—I’m not really

patronize you—to do good to you——”
She stopped. Surely she had said enough!
There was a long silence, while he gazed at

“Waken, lords and ladies gay,
On the mountain dawns the day,
All the jolly chase is near
With hawk and hound and hunting-spear!”

exclaimed, “he’s perfectly wonderful!”
“Who? What do you mean?” asked Harriet.
“Frank Shirley.”
“What? You’ve met him?”
“Met him? I’ve been riding with him the

“Who is Sylvia? What is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair and wise is she—
The heavens such grace did lend her
That she might adored be!”

approve of me, Mr. Shirley? I’m very sorry.”
“You must know—” he began.
But she went on, in a rush of defensive recklessness:

and began strenuously to pluck sprays of golden-rod.
“To break men’s hearts?” he asked.
She laughed scornfully. “I had a great-aunt,

child, they like it—it’s what they’re made for!’”
“And you believe such things as that?”
She laughed, a superbly cynical laugh, and

this afternoon?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then where can I see you?”
“You will have to come to my home.”
There was a pause. “It will be a difficult

I ever saw! Nor the cleverest!”
“Do not challenge me like that.”
“Why not?” he laughed.
“You might regret it.”
“It would be a good adventure—I’d be willing

must help me!”
“What?” whispered the other.
“I can’t see him!”
“But why not?”
“He wants to lecture me, and I won’t stand

It is not right!”
“But, Sylvia!” he protested. “I love you!”
“Oh, stop!” she pleaded. “Stop!”
“You love me!” he whispered.
“Please, please stop!”
A gentle pressure would have held her, but

“Oh, you ought not to have done

The story of a young woman who is a swains and a man who is the lord of the jolly chase.

Librarian's Note: Alternate cover edition for ISBN 978-0822214960
Greg and Kate have moved to Manhattan after twenty-two years of child-raising in the suburbs. Greg's career as a financial trader is winding down, while Kate's career, as a public-school English teacher, is beginning to offer her more opportunities. Greg brings home a dog he found in the park or that has found him bearing only the name "Sylvia" on her name tag. A street-smart mixture of Lab and Poodle, Sylvia becomes a major bone of contention between husband and wife. She offers Greg an escape from the frustrations of this job


The Bronze Eagle

THE BRONZE EAGLE
A STORY OF THE HUNDRED DAYS
BY BARONESS ORCZY
Author of "The Laughing Cavalier," "The Scarlet Pimpernel," Etc., Etc.

NEW YORKGEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1915,
By Baroness Orczy
Copyright, 1915,
By George H. Doran Company
This novel was published serially, under the title of "Waterloo"

[Pg 9]
THE BRONZE EAGLE
THE LANDING AT JOUAN
The perfect calm of an early spring dawn lies over headland and

upon the heart of a flower.
A silent dawn.
Veils of transparent greys and purples and mauves still conceal the

some giant censers swung by unseen, mighty hands.
The sky above is of a translucent green, studded with stars that blink

vivid rose to find themselves so fair.
And to the south, there where fiery sea blends and merges with fiery

wings outspread—an eagle flying swiftly to the shores of France.
In the bay the fisher folk, who are making ready for their day's work,

before.
"'Tis the Emperor come back from Elba!" says someone.
The men laugh and shrug their shoulders: that tale has been told so

the outspread wings of a bird!
But it is on the schooner that all eyes are riveted now: she skips along

this modern world has ever known.
The flag of Elba! then it is the Emperor coming back!
A crowd had gathered on the headland now—a crowd made up of bare-footed

they can see the Emperor—standing on the deck of the L'Inconstant.
He wears a black bicorne hat, and his grey redingote: he is pacing up

the face of awakening nature.
The eagle has left the bounds of its narrow cage of Elba: it has taken

resting-place upon the towers of Notre Dame.
[Pg 13]One hour after noon the curtain has risen upon the first act of the most

which recording Destiny has ever written in the book of this world.
The boats were lowered at one hour after noon, and the landing was

[Pg 14]
CHAPTER I
THE GLORIOUS NEWS
I
Where the broad highway between Grenoble and Gap parts company from the

upwards to the hamlet of Vaulx and the shrine of Notre Dame

The eagle is a solitary, mute bird who has been confined to the schooner for the past few years. He is unable to communicate with his companions, and is unsure of how to communicate. His only friend is the emperor, and he is not sure of how he will be able to communicate to his companion.

A romance set in France following the period of the Revolution and the expulsion of the Bourbons. Its central plot lies in the intrigues of their followers and those of Napoleon Bonaparte. -- Wikipedia


Wau-Bun: The Early Day in the Northwest

Margaret leaving her children to be cared for by their father.
« xvi »
Elizabeth in due course legally married a Virginian

[C] Literally, crazy oats. It is the French name for the Menomonees.
It was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred

in hand, to make “the wilderness blossom as the rose.”
Little did the noble souls at this day rejoicing in the

to go up to Shanty-town[15] to seek for lodgings."
“Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will

admonished his secretary to raise his voice.
“What is that, Walter? Read that over again.”
In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over

backward, and disappear in the water.
“Oh!” cried I, “he will be drowned!”
The gentlemen laughed. “No, there he is; they are

the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend. Judge Doty.[17]
He had received the news of our arrival, and had come

smoke?)
“Non, Monsieur.”
“And the harvest—how is that?”
“Very fine, indeed.”
“Is the mill at work?”
“Yes, plenty of water.”
“How is Whip?” (his favorite horse).
« 19 »
“Oh! Whip is first-rate.”
Everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the

to proceed.
“Eh! Men—adieu! hon voyage!”
“Arrachez—mes gens!” (Go ahead, men!)
Then suddenly—“Arrétez—arrétez!” (Stop, stop!)
“Comment se portent Madame Rolette ct les enfans?”
(How are Mrs. Rolette and the children?)

new home, they exclaimed, with a look of wonder:
“Vous n’avez done pas peur des serpens?”
“Snakes! Was it possible there were snakes at Fort

was afterwards led to adopt the seclusion of a convent.[21]
Captain Harney and his boat arrived in due time, and

be in readiness for our service on a specified day.
In the meantime, we had leisure for one more party,

convey him to Mineral Point, where he was to hold court.
It was a bright and beautiful morning when we left

M. Rolette’s calf?
Fry. I did not kill M. Rolette’s calf.
Justice (shaking his fist). You lie, you great rascal!

of the chorus, the shout of the bourgeois is heard—
« 30 »
“Wh

The epoch of the first book in the series, "The Adventures of the Man Who Built the World," is a story of a young man who has been swept up in the world of the world. He is unable to find his way back to the land of the future, and he is unsure of what to do with his life.

Wau-bun: The Early Day in the Northwest (1873), recounts the author's experiences of life at Fort Winnebago, Wisconsin, in the early 1830s. She describes her journeys back and forth to the early settlement of Chicago and her complex cultural encounters with a diverse frontier society. The book also describes in detail the lives of Native Americans at the time and includes an eyewitness description of the Fort Dearborn Massacre. By the American, historian, writer and pioneer of the American midwest.


Husks

grate.
"Have you no better shoes than those?"
"No, ma'am."
"Humph! Nor dress, nor shawl?"
"No, ma'am."
"Are you hungry?"
A ray shot from the swollen eyes. "Yes,

upon your hands—that you are never ennuyee—blasee?"
"Speak English, and I will answer you."
"I want to know," said the persevering

lady inquired for chickens.
"Yes, ma'am. Roasting size, ma'am?"
"No. I want them for a fricassee."
"Ah"—with a look of shrewd intelligence.

"The dew is on the blossom,
And the young moon on the sea;
It is the twilight hour—
The hour for you and me;
The time when memory lingers
Across life's dreary track,
When the past floats up before us,
And the lost comes stealing back."

"The long, long weary day
Is passed in tears away,
And still at evening I am weeping.
When from my window's height
I look out on the night,
I am still weeping,
My lone watch keeping.

"When I, his truth to prove,
Would trifle with my love,
He'd say, 'For me thou wilt be weeping,
When, at some future day,
I shall be far away;
Thou wilt be weeping,
Thy lone watch keeping.'

"Alas! if land or sea
Had parted him from me,
I would not these sad tears be weeping;
But hope he'd come once more,
And love me as before;
And say, 'Cease weeping,
Thy lone watch keeping.'

"But he is dead and gone,
Whose heart was mine alone,
And now for him I'm sadly weeping.
His face I ne'er shall see,
And naught is left to me
But bitter weeping,
My lone watch keeping."

that said his mind was fully made up.
What had Sarah seen all this while?
Heavens, over which the films of the

we practice this deception upon them."
Mr. Hunt lay quiet for some minutes.
"Perhaps you are in the right," he said.

cook, and don't negleck your poor father.
"Your Affectionate mother, "E. Hunt."
"P. S. Your kitchen Girl must have a

Sarah.
Lucy nodded.
"And promised to call this evening?"
"Right again, my dear!"
She was graver now, for she had conceived

him.
"Daughter, what ails you?" was his exclam

The shrewd and calculating Countess of the Isle of Wight, who is a renowned author, has been a tireless advocate for the rights of women. She has been the subject of many controversial stories, including the infamous "The Woman's Choice" scandal, the rebirth of the Count of the Lakes, and the emergence of the Women's Rights Movement.

Tony Smith is a successful horror writer, and his fans love his work, but beneath the facade of success, his personal life is in shambles.
Reeling from a recent divorce and haunted by the mistakes of his past, Tony attempts to start over in a new city, but things are not as they seem. His new residence, which had seemed perfect, is hiding a secret. Something wants Tony to suffer for his misdeeds. Something has been waiting for a man as broken as Tony Smith. Something wants his pain and suffering...something with an unending hunger.
There is no such thing as a clean break.


Flower Garden

Charlotte, white and pink, 3 feet—September.
Border—Wood Anemones.
South Bed—Asters, 2 feet—September, October.
Border—Auricula, 8 inches—May.
11A mass of one kind and colour is more effective than

12the like. Soil and other details will be treated elsewhere.
In planning a shrubbery (see Plate II.) it is neither

lower corner—the intervening spaces forming paths.
For Laying Out the Beds
Use a long pole with a sharp stake passed through

foliage-beds on the lawn will be helpful.
For a Twelve-foot Foliage-bed
One Ricinus in centre; three Ricini four feet from

one part manure to six of earth being the proportion.
Good results may be obtained by the use of any or

water as before by setting the flat in a pan of water.
When the plants have their second leaves give

removed during the summer, up to the first of September.
Only a few flowers will be obtained in the open

well to remove the flowers, as seeding injures the plant.
Cyclamen may be started in flats or in a cool hotbed

stored in a dry, fairly warm place during the winter.
Heliotropes
Are more easily raised from seed than from cuttings,

about the time the first tiny tips of other bulbs appear.
One great advantage of this precocity of growth is

will hold it as firmly as though it were entirely embedded.
Usually a bulb will bloom in about three months

not seem to interfere at all with the process of bloom.
The double pearl Tuberose blooms but once, and it

but it will be a soft one, incapable of the best results.
Flower-pots should not be filled to the brim with

a brush dipped in alcohol; or use the hot-water bath.
Red Spider can only be kept at bay by fresh air

Appropriate for use at funerals, 129.
Delightful grown on north side of house, 129.
Gathering seed from, 46.
Sowing seeds and planting, 129.

Dwarf variety admirably adapted for carpet bedding, 119.
How to sow, 35.
Indispensable for edgings, window-boxes and vases, 101.
Little Dorrit and Swanley Blue, 102.
Princess Carolin

A symphony of the saxophone, a musical instrument, and a collection of songs.

"An urban African-American girl and her father buy plants, potting soil, and a window box at the supermarket, ride the bus to their apartment, and put together a colorful gift for the child's mother. Rhyming verse carries the brief story, while wonderful, warm, full-color illustrations present scenes from novel angles, and depict a loving family with a sense of intimacy, sincerity, and joy."--School Library Journal


In the Garden

it came—clearly and definitely, but from quite a small location only.
"Limited," said Steiner, "as though within a pale. As though there were

before it's back in our ken if we let it go now."
"Let's lock on this one and finish the scan. Then we can do the rest of

the world to make sure we've missed nothing," said Stark.
There was one more test to run, one very tricky and difficult of

designer of it were puzzled as to how to read the results.
The E. P. Locator had been designed by Glaser. But when the Locator

of Little Probe had acquired the original machine so cheaply.
And there was no denying that the Extraordinary Perception Locator (or

assumed an air of importance when it ran these tests.
Finally it signaled the result, the most exasperating result it ever

of the shoulders in a man. They called it the "You tell me light."
So among the intelligences there was at least one that might be

sort of fountain or pool, and four streams coming out of it."
"Keep on towards the minds," said Stark. "They're our target."
"Not a building, not two sticks or stones placed together. That looks

bright light.
"Talk to them, Father Briton," said Stark. "You are the linguist."
"Howdy," said the priest.
He may or may not have been understood, but the two of them smiled at

you, my good man, what is your handle, your monicker, your tag?"
"Ha-Adamah," said the man.
"And your daughter, or niece?"
It may be that the shining man frowned momentarily at this; but the

woman smiled, proving that she was human.
"The woman is named Hawwah," said the man. "The sheep is named sheep,

that you use the English tongue?"
"I have only one tongue; but it is given to us to be understood by all;

by the eagle, by the squirrel, by the ass, by the English."
"We happen to be bloody Yankees, but we use a borrowed tongue. You

the first water ever made.
"What do you make of them?" asked Stark.
"Human," said Steiner. "It may even be that they are a little more than

does serve a purp

The epoch of the discovery of the Extraordinary Perception Locator is a time-consuming and difficult test. It was designed by Glaser, and it was a very tricky and difficult of designer of it were puzzled as to how read the results. Finally it signaled the result, the most exasperating result it ever of the shoulders in a man.

In the Gardenis a testimony to the power of faith and surrender to God's will. The author recounts the story of her mother, Ellen, who, during times of suffering and loss, met her Lord "in the garden," and asked, "What would You have me do?"
Putting down roots with her husband, Henry, on a small farm, in western Michigan, Ellen found the where and wherefore of God's plan for her life. There, on the farm, in the house on the hill, this ordinary woman surrendered her life to the will of her God.
The author realizes that the secret of her mother's extraordinary life and peaceful and victorious de


African Adventure

Smuts invested it with fresh interest. So I went.
The Smuts that I found at close range on his native

Botha set their hopes upon remains an elusive quantity.
I got a hint of what Smuts was up against the moment

saved the day for Union and himself. How did he do it?
I can demonstrate one way and with a rather personal

corner. Turning to me he said:
"Do you know Cresswell?"
"I was introduced to him yesterday," I replied.
"Would you mind if I asked him to dine with us?"
When I assured him that I would be delighted, the

good luck for you."
"No," he replied, "it's the man that makes the luck."
He had had a trying day in the House and was silent

of Nations,—a group of partner peoples."
"What of America and the future?" I asked him.
"America is the leaven of the future," answered

what was going on and rush to the rescue if necessary.
In the afternoon he would sometimes go into the

substance in him.
When I asked him to state his case he said:
"The republican idea is as old as South Africa. There

his heart Botha wanted to be free and independent."
"How about Ireland?" I demanded.
The General smiled as he responded: "Our position

United States of Great Britain."
It is the high goal of a high career.
  THE HEAVY LINE INDICATES MR. MARCOSSON'S ROUTE IN AFRICA

regarded the iron horse as a menace to their isolation.
The first steam road on the continent of Africa was

quite so prominently in the march of world events.
In peace, as in war, coal spells life and power. It

is a Christian, fills high posts, and invades the professions.
In South Africa the reverse is true. To begin with,

Britain for the reason that she was too useful.
It is now evident that a large part of the Congo atrocity

German hand. The world is now wise to the latter procedure.
The new colour scheme of the African map may now

cold, peered in at the window.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You are in Rhodesia and I want to know who you

is therefore distinct in the annals of Big Busin

The first book in the series of books by the author of "The Last Word" (1996), "The First Word" is a collection of short stories written by the writer of "An American Novel" (1999).

Young children will love lacing up their hiking boots and joining Bird, Mouse, and Rabbit as they take a walk through a North American evergreen forest to meet some truly amazing animals! From a black bear in search of a snack to a stinky skunk with a smelly spray, there's a different animal on every spread, plus many additional creatures to spot along the way!
This delightful picture book series is the perfect introduction to some really wild animals. Each of the Amazing Animals books features simple, easy-to-read text and bright, fun illustrations of a variety of creatures in their natural h


Unto Caesar

Caius Julius Cæsar Caligula ruled over Imperial Rome.
Arminius Quirinius, the censor, was dead. He had died by his own hand,

womenfolk, his clients and his slaves.
He escaped to his villa at Ostia. But the Emperor[Pg 2] Caligula, having duly

of guests during the intervals of supper.
The bulk of them had been sent to the markets of Delos and Phaselis, but

Rome for the benefit of the late censor's defrauded victims.
And thus, on this ninth day of September, a human load panting under the

their lives in getting humbly out of other people's way.
Fair and dark, ivory skin and ebony, male and female, or almost sexless

that intending purchasers might know what to expect.
There were the Phrygians with fair curly hair and delicate hands skilled

polished teeth that gleamed like emeralds in the sun.
And all around the stately temples of the Forum, with their rich

bustle of the Forum, like ghosts that haunt the precincts of graves.
Throughout all this the gorgeous colouring that a summer's mid-morning

command of this tangled bundle of humanity.
He had arrived quite early in the day and his litter stood not far from

of the tightly closed lips or the contour of the massive jaws.
His lictors, at some little distance from him, kept his person well

the Latin words with but the faintest semblance of foreign intonation.
Now and then at a word from a likely purchaser he would with a sign

good-natured naïveté, deeming obedience the surest way to comfort.
Nor did the praefect perform his duty with any show of inhumanity or

praefect decided to preside over the sale himself.
He had discharged such duties before and none had occasion to complain

to him.... Come! shall we say two thousand sesterces?"
The Jews were hesitating. With a rapid glance of their keen, deep-set

to his will.
"One thousand we'll give," said one of the Jews timidly.
"Nay! an you'll not give more, kind sirs," quoth the auctioneer airily,

dealers...."
"One thousand," repeated one of the int

A saga of the censor, Arminius Quirinius, and his wife, the Emperor.

HE LOVED HER AND HE LOVED ROME!Taurus Antinor loved her, that she knew. The last four days had made a woman of her: she had tasted of and witnessed every passion that rends a human heart, love, ambition, cruelty, hatred! The man whom she loved, loved her with an intensity at least equal to that which even now made her heart throb at the memory of his kiss. He loved her, longed for her, would have laid down his life for her even at the moment when he tore himself away from her arms.
BUT TAURUS ANTINOR HAD A GREATER LOVE!Dea Flavia was like a goddess of love in Classical Rome. Beautiful, young a


Blue Lights

me as I am," he said; then again called to the dog.
A moment later the servant, who had interviewed

to take another—"
"Another?"
"Yes. Another case. Quick."
"It's quite out of the question."
"Nonsense! This is important. Money's no

on your honeymoon, and didn't want to be bothered."
[13]"That's true. I don't."
"I told Mr. Stapleton that. He sent me to see

earth could find his boy for him, you could."
"I suppose the thing is a matter of blackmail—ransom—"
"Very likely. They will probably demand a

how Mr. Stapleton feels."
"Of course. He will sail at once, I suppose."
"That's the worst of it. He can't go till Saturday.

said, slowly, then turned to her husband.
"What do you think, dear?" he asked her.
"I think, Richard, that you had better go."
Mr. Hodgman sprang to his feet, and, coming

voice which showed plainly his nationality.
"Yes," she replied.
"Your husband! May I see him?"
"He is not at home."
The newcomer seemed greatly disturbed.

who stood watching her narrowly.
"You know the contents of this message?"
"Yes, Madame," he bowed. "It came to us by

floor in gloomy preoccupation.
"How so?" the detective inquired.
"I will tell you. My boy, who, as you know, is

stolen, if her story is true? It is, as you say, preposterous."
"I do not say that the story is true, Mr. Duvall.

him?"
"There was one such letter."
"When did you receive it?"
[32]"Last fall—perhaps six months ago."
"Have you the letter now?"
"Yes."
"May I see it?"
The banker rose, went to a heavy rosewood

him nothing that was not favorable.
"I came to ask you a few questions, Mr. Lanahan."
"Questions, is it? About what?" The blue

eyes showed a sudden flare of suspicion.
"About yourself, and your family."
"Who may you be, then? Is it the tax man?"
Duvall smiled. "Not the tax man," he said.

the week past. What is it you would know?"
"Are you from Dublin?"
"Me father was. I was born right here in

would share in it."
"Children, is it? I have two."
"Boys?"
"On

The story of a young woman who is a victim of sex and crime. She is the daughter of renowned detective Richard Duvall, who has been convicted of murder and robbery. She has been sent to see earth, where she will find her boy for him, and he can't go till Saturday.

'One villain, a white room and the deadliest creature he will ever meet.'
Swallowed by the harsh sea, Morgan Sanders finds himself trapped in a white room with no entry or exit. Upon awakening, he is greeted by the ghosts from his past. 'Blue lights' is a fantasy and supernatural short story that follows the struggle of an antagonist in a fight against his dying body and a sinister realm between life and death.
Can he beat the odds stacked against him or will he forever be trapped?


A Daughter of the Dons

the famous ore producers of the district.
It was not until his inattentive ears caught the name of Dick Gordon

touch of the gentle Spanish accent in his voice.
The man to whom he had spoken, a grizzled, weather-beaten little fellow

blue eyes on his questioner a moment before he answered:
"I ought to know him, seeing as I'm his partner."
"Then you can tell me where I may find him?"
"Yes, sir, I can do that. See that streak of red there on the hill—the

Last Dollar."
"It is dangerous, you inform me?"
"Dangerous ain't the word. It's suicide, the way I look at it. See here,

time?"
The New Mexican showed a double row of pearly teeth in a bland smile.
"Pardon, sir. If you would explain a leetle more fully I would then

a flood."
"Your friend, then, is in peril, is it not so?"
"You've said it. He's shooting dice with death. That's the way I size it

through on them, it's Heaven help Dick, and good-by to this world."
"Then Mr. Gordon is what you call brave?"
"He's the gamest man that ever walked into this camp. There ain't an

place, and he's your one best bet to tie to."
"Mr. Gordon is fortunate in his friend," bowed the New Mexican politely.
The little miner looked at him with shining eyes.
"Nothing like that. Me, I figure the luck's all on my side. Onct you

from below.
"What's new, Tregarth?" he asked of one of them, a huge Cornishman.
"The drill have brook into the Last Dollar tunnel. The watter of un do

He wouldna coom and let me stay."
Davis thought a moment.
"I'll go down the shaft and wait at the foot of it. There'll be

bring the byes back all right. Bet un we do, lads."
The cage shot down, and the New Mexican sat on a bench to wait its

was glued to his machinery, his hand constantly on the lever.
It must have been an hour before the bell rang sharply in the silence

and waited tensely. Next moment there was a wild, exultant cheer.
For Tregarth had stepped from the cage with a limp figure in his arms,

wrestle with death itself.
He san

The story of a young man who is a grizzled, weather-beaten little fellow blue eyes on his questioner a moment before he answers the name of Dick Gordon.

1914. Raine, born in England and raised in Arkansas, drifted to the western states and began his writing career. He has written numerous western novels. The story begins: For hours Manuel Pesquiera had been rolling up the roof of the continent in an observation-car of the Short Line. His train had wound in and out through a maze of bewildering scenery, and was at last dipping down into the basin of the famous gold camp. The alert black eyes of the young New Mexican wandered discontentedly over the raw ugliness of the camp. Towns straggled here and there untidily at haphazard, mushroom growths


John Caldigate

almost instantly. Then Daniel Caldigate had been alone.
And he was a man who knew how to live alone,—a just, hard,

had been in his manners with them.
But he had hoped, as he sat alone in his desolate house, that it would

house, lest people should say of him that his sternness was unendurable.
Folking is not a place having many attractions of its own, beyond the

however, good of its kind, and the ploughing is mostly done by steam.
Such is and has been for some years the house at Folking in which Mr.

thought of making his nephew George the heir to the property.
The property indeed was entailed upon John, as it had been entailed upon

family;—and yet they had all been so kind to him!
'I should have nothing to marry on, aunt Polly,' he said.
Then he was reminded that he was his father's heir, and that his

Babington till Folking should be ready. The prospect was awful!
What is a young man to say in such a position? 'I do not love the young

delivered her up into the young man's arms.
'I am so much in debt,' he said, 'that I don't care to think of it.'
Aunt Polly declared that such debts did not signify in the least.

either of Mr. Davis or of the New South Wales scheme.
Mr. Bolton lived in a large red-brick house, in the village of

present Squire and his son had been left to Mr. Bolton.
Mr. Bolton had, no doubt, received a very unfavourable account of the

mind thus fixed, he entered Mr. Bolton's gates.
He was to stay one night at Puritan Grange; and then, if the matter were

he must be consigned for ever to perdition.
Caldigate, conscious of the mistake which the banker was making, full of

reading of the Bible, and prayer, and before ten he was in his bed-room.
On the next morning as he took his departure, Mr. Bolton said a word

Mr. Caldigate.'
'Why should I not as well as another?' said John, cheerily.
'If you are steady, sober, industrious, self-denying and honest, you

in the quick repentance and improvement of a young one.
He hired a gig an

The book is a collection of short stories and poems by the author, including the first two books of the series.

John Caldigate (1879) possesses in abundance the virtues of Trollope's writing: an engrossing story told by a worldly-wise, kindly, fair-minded narrator, and a tale strong on what Trollope claimed as the leading feature of his novels, "real" characters. But John Caldigate has some striking and distinctive calls on the reader's attention: Australian gold-mining scenes, the prominence given to matters of law and a criminal trial, and the stronger than usual attack on religious fanaticism. Moreover, the main character is accused of and standing trial for bigamy on the testimony of his former mist


Black Sheep (Dark Desires, #2)

of the company! More like after the spoons, I should say!"
The polite porter who had made the inquiry, and the satirical

muttering to himself as he went:
"Ten o'clock! I must press on, or they'll all be in bed, I suppose.

your lamps, if they don't show you people in the road?"
He had sprung aside as he spoke, and now stood flat against and

stranger, and crisp on the night air cries a sharp curt voice,
"How do, Bulger? Not late, eh? hum--ah! not late?"
To which Bulger, pulling at invisible lock of hair on forehead:
"No, Sir Thomas! Lots company, Sir Thomas! Seasonable weather, Sir--"
But the carriage was whirled away before Bulger could conclude, and

of her power to do what I want."
He emerged from the shadow of the trees again, and struck into the

towards a stately house, whose long lighted façade now became visible.
"And his--his who married my mother and deceived her, who gave her

broad carriage sweep by which the company were arriving.
The house was an old one, and was surrounded by a narrow fosse or

commenting on the scene of which he was a spectator.
It was an old room on which George Dallas looked--an old room with

a group which at once arrested George Dallas's attention.
It consisted of three persons, of whom two were gentlemen; the third

creature, I dare say; she looks like it. But where can my mother be?"
He approached the window still more closely; he ventured to place his

old building, and voices which reached him distinctly.
"Any influenza you may catch, or anything of that kind, you must

outside, the temperature of that room was becoming unbearable!"
"Think it must be caused by that old woman's red face that we noticed,

disagreeable to me to have a man perpetually at my heels!"
"You shouldn't say that, Miss Carruthers--shouldn't, indeed. You don't

please. I begin to feel a little chilly."
As the speakers moved, something fell at George Dallas's feet. It was

window, she said, in a low firm voice:
"Who are you? Speak at onc

The story of the sailor who was a savior of the world, and the man who was the most important to the world.

In a family of cold-hearted black sheep,
I, Axel Rutherford, am the blackest.
My father has hated me since the day I was born. The feeling was mutual. In the shady underworld that was my legacy, Cleo McCarthy became my light. She was beautiful, passionate, and my whole world. So naturally my father had to destroy us. First he sent me away. Next he claimed Cleo as his own. But now I've returned, and nothing will stop me from taking back everything that is rightfully mine.
He was the love of my life - when my life was still my own.
We were young enough to believe we would last forever, Axel and


The Conquest (Peregrine, #2)

Master of human destinies am I.
Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait.
Cities and fields I walk. I penetrate
Deserts and seas remote, and passing by
Hovel, and mart, and palace—soon or late
I knock unbidden once at every gate.
If sleeping, wake—if feasting, rise before
I turn away. It is the hour of fate,
And they who follow me reach every state
Mortals desire, and conquer every foe
Save death; but those who doubt or hesitate,
Condemned to failure, penury, and woe
Seek me in vain and uselessly implore,
I answer not, and I return no more.

my older sister who was teaching in a nearby town.
I had grown into a strong, husky youth of eighteen

second choice, and so on until they were all drawn.
This system was an out and out lottery, but gave

of note, hadn't given me much time to seek love.
I went to my old occupation of the road for awhile

said:
"They gave you a warranty deed, did they not?"
"Yes, I replied, it is over at the bank of Calias."
"Then let it stay there. Tell him, or the old man

Although the valley could not be surpassed in the production of grain and alfalfa, the highlands on either side were

me and as it was much handier, I boarded with them.
The older of the two girls was a beautiful blonde

LITTLE CROW
REPUTATION, THE SQUARE DEAL
CALIAS BOASTER
REPUTATION GRAFTING
Scene.—Little Crow Reservation.
Time.—A.D. 190— Referee—Washington, D.C.
Seconds For Megory.—Flackler, of the Megory

a roving spirit, wanted to come and so it was settled.
When I got back to Dakota and jumped into my

would not have to wait a score of years to grow them.
Among the money investors in the town was old

places near the door sold for as high as fifty dollars.
Under a ruling of the land officials, no filings were

treated in a like manner off and on for thirty years.
As stated, I did not hear from the Reverend and

and over until the operator called the time was up.
A letter had been sent him by special delivery the

when you have not bee

The first book in the series of novels by American author and journalist Roberta Sullivan, this is the first book to be published in the United States. It was published in 1897, and is the second edition of the series.

Lovely Zared Peregrine was the pride of her family, a treasure her rough-hewn brothers would strive at any cost to protect from their ancient enemies, the Howards. The Peregrines had suffered loss enough. Thus Zared's brothers trained her in the arts of war, and dressed her in boy's clothing. Beyond the castle walls, none knew that the youngest Peregrine was a girl.... Yet when the magnificent Knight Tearle Howard returned from a lengthy sojourn in France, it took him but one glance to discover that Zared was most definitely female, and beautiful. Now, as the enmity between their families rage


The Princess Pocahontas

aid—as far as man may judge—it would have been uprooted and destroyed.
In truth, when I look over the whole world history, I can find no other

concocted a story having no foundation."
and from "The New International Encyclopaedia":
"Until Charles Deane attacked it (the story of Pocahontas's rescue

years, however, there has been a tendency to retain it."
It is in Smith's own writings, "General Historie of Virginia" and "A

ceremony of adoption by which Smith was made one of the tribe.
In many places in this story I have not only followed closely Smith's

260, 300 the words of Powhatan or Pocahontas as Smith relates them.
There may be readers of this story who will want to know what became of

fresh scalp locks which their silent Monachan owners did not miss.
But Opechanchanough, on his way to Werowocomoco to tell The Powhatan of

a nut unless they could point out the bough on which it perched.
Opechanchanough led the long thin line that threaded its way through the

was called. Then, suddenly before his face shot an arrow.
At a shout from their leader, the long line swung itself to the right,

pointing to a huge oak that forked half way up, he commanded:
"Bring him to me."
Two braves rushed forward to the tree, on which all eyes were now fixed.

reaching the tree trunk yelled in delight and disdain.
The white figure moved rapidly now. Swinging itself out on a branch and

angry astonishment:
"Pocahontas! What meaneth this trick?"
And the white fur bundle, rising to her feet, laughed and laughed till

thus being made the sport of a child. He shook his niece, saying:
"What meaneth this, I ask? What meaneth this?"
Pocahontas then ceased laughing and answered:
"I wanted to see for myself how brave thou wert. Uncle, and to know just

you halt so suddenly."
Her explanation set most of the party laughing again.
"In truth, is she well named," they cried—"Pocahontas, Little Wanton."
"I have yet another name," she said to an old brave who stood nearest

ag

The first book in the series of books by American author and illustrator William Smith, this is a collection of his most popular works.

Through the white forest came Opechanchanough and his braves- treading as silently as the flakes that fell about them. From their girdles hung fresh scalp locks which their silent Monachan owners did not miss.' (Excerpt from Chapter 1)


Arbiter (Arbiter Chronicles, #1)

that I am an authority on the subject."
"Well, it is a great mistake," repeated Miss Martin firmly, as she got

said before, no sensible woman should do it."
Lady Gore began to feel a little annoyed. It is [Pg 2]fatiguing to hear one's

surrounded Lady Gore as she lay on her couch.
"I don't think it does her much harm," said Lady Gore, a good deal

to-day, by the way?" she said, stopping on her way to the door.
"For a wonder she is not at home," Lady Gore said. "She has gone to stay

at Maidenhead, for the night."
"How girls do gad nowadays, to be sure!" said Miss Martin.[Pg 3]
"I hardly think that can be said of Rachel," said Lady Gore.
"Whether Rachel does or not, my dear Elinor, girls do gad—there is no

suppose," with a slightly ironical intonation. "Goodbye!"
"Can you find your way out?" said Lady Gore, ringing a hand-bell.
"Oh dear, yes," said Miss Martin. "Goodbye," and out she went.
Lady Gore leant back with a sigh of relief. A companion like Miss Martin

of the real fabric that they were indistinguishable from it.
As far as Sir William's career, if we may give it that name, was

town, it was in a great measure her popularity that won him the seat.
He was in the House without making any special mark for two years, with

may know their views on a given situation.
At the time of which we speak political parties in England were trying

should he come into his own house and find it dull. And he never did.
[Pg 14]
CHAPTER II
To be a popular invalid is in itself a career: it blesses those that

to produce a bad effect than none at all.
Mrs. Feversham, of Bruton Street, was an old [Pg 18]friend of Lady Gore's,

received them with smiling equanimity.
It was at an "At Home" given by Mrs. Feversham one evening early in the

her.[Pg 19]
"By George!" said the boy, "it is hot. Let's go and have ices."
"Ices? Right you are," the girl replied, and attempted to follow her

convoying to follow him as near as she might.
"Hallo!" he said suddenly. "There's

The book is a collection of short stories, poems, and essays. It is the first book in the series to be published by the publisher.

The Reaper always gets what he wants.
Rae Miller should know this by heart. Born with the ability to see the Grim Reaper and track his passing, and cursed by being the object of his ire, Rae has spent most of her life avoiding people around her, trying not to get close to those that will eventually die. But when the Reaper offers her a deal, a chance to be free of him, she takes it. The Reaper's deal sends her into the Twilight Realm, a land torn between the powerful, ancient Ivali, and the human men and women that have claimed a small portion of it for their own. Rae's task is to search for t


The Rector

it seemed so to the perpetual curate of St Roque's.
Ah me! and if he was to be perpetual curate, and none of

The creature was dangerous even to a Fellow of All-Souls.
"I may say I know very little about them," said the

the human term; now she had recommenced her life.
But, to tell the very truth, the Rector would very fain,

him coming here so often. What is he besides, my dear?"
The Rector made spasmodic gestures towards the door, to

sin. Well, now, let me hear: has he a family, Morley?"
Again Mr Proctor showed a little discomposure. After a

two daughters, has he? To be sure; now I understand it all."
The Rector looked helpless and puzzled. It was difficult

sir, tell me, when a person's ill and dying, is it too late?"
Before the Rector could even imagine what he could

calm her mind a little; if I can be of any use?"
"Ah, maybe I'm hasty," said the dying woman, turning

of having time when I've one foot in the grave already!"
"Not so bad as that—not so bad as that," said the

you'd say a prayer—ah, Miss Lucy, it's coming on again."
In a moment Lucy had raised the poor creature in her

was any comfort to him, and that was poor consolation.
For one thing, it is hard upon the most magnanimous of

such visitations. It was murder to the Fellow of All-Souls.
That night Mr Proctor wrote a long letter to his dear

hand and addressed him with all her characteristic vivacity.
"Morley, what is this you mean, my dear? When did I

could not shout all his reasons and apologies into her deaf ear.
"As for the change to me," said the old lady, instinctively

"It goes to my heart, mother," he cried in her ear.
"Well, Morley, I am very sorry you find it so," said the

is really more than I should be inclined to bear."
Once more the good Rector shook his head. He had not

The re-issue of the first edition of the book, "The Rector" is a new and exciting story about the life of a man who has been a curate for many years. It is based on the novel of the same name by the author of the second edition of "The Reverend" and the first volume of "Another Woman's Life".

Combine a suspenseful murder mystery with theology (the study and explanation of religious faith, practice, and experience) and you have The Rector--with an allegory of Christ's ministry!
Here's a brief synopsis: Martha McRae is a widow living in a small Mississippi Delta town in the 1950s. She's obsessed with the sudden death of her Episcopal church's young rector. A murderer could go free if she doesn't investigate. But Martha is torn. If she pursues the suspect, her Bible study friend's awful secret could be revealed. It would be devastating, and life-changing. When the new rector arrives,


Chief Justice: A Biography of Earl Warren

Poland may not possess a Dostoieffsky and Portugal a Tolstoi.
Yet, as a matter of fact, there is no European country that has

caused his son and heir to be transferred.
This event made a tremendous sensation. For the first time a Sendlingen

illness he would not suffer the outcast to be recalled.
After the death of the Judge, his son came to be completely forgotten:

and honourable position of Chief Justice of Bolosch.
The stormy times in which he lived served as a good test of his

were cases in arrear, and confusion and uncertainty.
The Bolosch Circuit was one of the few exceptions. The Chief Justice

hairs at the temples alone showed how exceedingly he had suffered.
In the midst of the regular work of his profession--it was in May,

sufficiently recovered themselves to congratulate their beloved chief.
Only one of them did so with a really happy heart, his Deputy, von

position of the trial.
"There are more arrears than I expected," he said with some surprise.
"But the number of crimes has unfortunately greatly increased,"

crimes and then remained plunged in deep thought.
"The number is nearly double," he resumed. "And it is not only here,

Minister of Justice complained of it to me with much concern."
"But what else could one expect?" cried old Werner. "This accursed

sockets and stared in a sort of fascination at the list before him.
"Great Heavens!" cried Werner, himself much alarmed, as he seized his

chief's hand. "What is the matter with you? Do you know this girl?"
Sendlingen made no reply. He closed his eyes, rested both arms on the

sank down in his chair like one in a faint.
"Water! Help!" cried Werner, making for the bell.
A movement of Sendlingen's stopped him. "It is nothing," he gasped with

look, that the old gentleman involuntarily started back.
"May I," he began timidly, "call a doctor----"
"No!" Sendlingen's refusal was almost angry. Again he attempted to rise

and then, my dear colleague, I shall be quite at your service agai

The first book in the series of novels by the author, a young woman named Sendlingen, is a story of love and loyalty. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author, which was published in the year 1897.

Earl Warren is rightly remembered not only as one of the great chief justices of the Supreme Court, but as one of the most influential Americans of the twentieth century. Warren Court decisions such as Brown v. Board of Education, Miranda, and Baker v. Carr have given us such famous phrases as "separate is not equal, " "read him his rights, " and "one-man-one-vote" - and have vastly expanded civil rights and personal liberties. A generation later the Warren Court's decisions still define American freedoms. Ed Cray recounts this truly American story in the finest and most comprehensive biograph


The Scarecrow of Oz

THE
SCARECROW OF OZ
BY
L. FRANK BAUM
AUTHOR OF
THE ROAD TO OZ, DOROTHY AND THE WIZARD IN OZ, THE EMERALD

other quaint people who inhabit this wonderful fairyland.
It was no easy task to obey this order and land Trot and Cap’n Bill

permitted to relate to you in the next Oz Book.
Meantime, I am deeply grateful to my little readers for their continued

the more we know, the more we find we don’t know.”
“I can’t quite make that out, Cap’n Bill,” answered the little girl in a

to me that all we learn is jus’ so much gained.”
“I know; it looks that way at first sight,” said the sailor, nodding his

long enough to git more’n a few dips o’ the oars of knowledge."
Trot didn’t answer. She was a very little girl, with big, solemn eyes and

years and had taught her almost everything she knew.
He was a wonderful man, this Cap’n Bill. Not so very old, although his

signs, so that she was able to see and do many wonderful things.
The acacia tree was on top of a high bluff, but a path ran down the bank

low enough for them to take a row.
They had decided to visit one of the great caves which the waves had

sailor, who loved to explore their awesome depths.
“I b’lieve, Cap’n,” remarked Trot, at last, “that it’s time for us to

boat. Then he shook his head.
“Mebbe it’s time, Trot,” he answered, “but I don’t jes’ like the looks o’

things this afternoon.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked wonderingly.
“Can’t say as to that. Things is too quiet to suit me, that’s all. No

but any sailor would know the signs is ominous.”
“There’s nothing wrong that I can see,” said Trot. “If there was a cloud

Cap’n!—the sky is as clear as can be.”
He looked again and nodded.
“P’r’aps we can make the cave, all right,” he agreed, not wishing to

anyone, but to climb up hill or down required some care.
They reached the boat safely and while Trot was untying the rope Cap’n

« 19 »
“That, Trot,” he slowly replied, “looks to me mighty like a whirlpool.”
“What makes it, Cap’n?”
“A whirl in t

The story of a young girl who is a little girl and has been a sailor for many years. She is the daughter of samuel, a famous seaman, and her father, whose name is unknown.

At last! Grizzled but good-hearted Cap'n Bill and the little wide-eyed girl Trot have found their way to Oz . . . But what a strange corner of Oz! Named Jinxland, and blocked from the rest by high mountains, it is ruled by the unpleasant King Kruel. And who do they meet first but mischievous witch Blinkie -- Who turns the honest sailor into a grasshopper! Learning of the predicament, Glinda the Good and the famous Scarecrow find their adventuring days are not at an end, in this classic tale of Oz.


With the Turks in Palestine

coastal region close to the ancient Plains of Armageddon.
Here I was born; my childhood was passed here in the peace and

recruits die after their first day of garrison life.
Together with twenty of my comrades, I presented myself at the

although some of them went with us as far as Saffêd.
Our garrison town is not an inviting place, nor has it an

answer came with an enormous shrug of the shoulders.
"You are serving the Sultan. Hardship should be sweet!"
"I should be more fit to serve him if I got more sleep and

rest."
He waved a fat hand about the tent.
"Look at me! Here I am, an officer of rank and"—shooting a

knowing look at me—"I have not even a nice blanket."
"A crime! A crime!" I interrupted. "To think of it, when I, a

you would allow me—" My voice trailed off suggestively.
"How could you get one?" he asked.
"Oh, I have friends here in Saffêd but I must be

able to sleep in a nice place."
"Of course; certainly. What would you suggest?"
"That hotel kept by the Jewish widow might do," I replied.
More amenities were exchanged, the upshot of which was that my

in its Oriental toggery, riding into Jerusalem on an ass.
The nations of Europe laughed at this visit and its transparent

their cheeks; and they were all strong, brave fellows.
On my way back to Zicron-Jacob, I passed through the town of

jingling loudly as we passed along the stone corridor.
I never knew whether I had been selected for this attention

he reeled, then fell full-length in the street before my eyes.
It was a dismal departure. We were driven through the streets

instead of receiving help from my youth and enthusiasm.
At last we arrived at the prison and were locked into separate

middle of January, 1915, I set out for Jerusalem.
To Western minds, the idea of the Holy City serving as a base

them, the natives would, run as if from high explosive bombs.
All things considered, it is wonderful that the Turkish

fires turned loose upon us," one soldier told me.
The Turks su

The book is a collection of short stories, poems and essays by the author. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author.

Large Format for easy reading. Historical work detailing experiences of early Jewish settlers in Palestine while still under Turkish rule from perspective of well known Zionist political figure


A Passion In The Desert

“After a few minutes, during which we made acquaintance, we went to dine
      at the first restauranteur’s whose shop caught our eye. At dessert a
      bottle of champagne completely refreshed and brightened up the memories of
      this odd old soldier. He told me his story, and I saw that he was right
      when he exclaimed, ‘Well known.’”

When she got home, she teased me to that extent, was so charming, and made
      so many promises, that I consented to communicate to her the confidences
      of the old soldier. Next day she received the following episode of an epic
      which one might call “The French in Egypt.”

During the expedition in Upper Egypt under General Desaix, a Provencal
      soldier fell into the hands of the Maugrabins, and was taken by these
      Arabs into the deserts beyond the falls of the Nile.

In order to place a sufficient distance between themselves and the French
      army, the Maugrabins made forced marches, and only halted when night was
      upon them. They camped round a well overshadowed by palm trees under which
      they had previously concealed a store of provisions. Not surmising that
      the notion of flight would occur to their prisoner, they contented
      themselves with binding his hands, and after eating a few dates, and
      giving provender to their horses, went to sleep.

But when, after counting the palm trees, he cast his eyes around him, the
      most horrible despair was infused into his soul. Before him stretched an
      ocean without limit. The dark sand of the desert spread further than eye
      could reach in every direction, and glittered like steel struck with
      bright light. It might have been a sea of looking-glass, or lakes melted
      together in a mirror. A fiery vapor carried up in surging waves made a
      perpetual whirlwind over the quivering land. The sky was lit with an
      Oriental splendor of insupportable purity, leaving naught for the
      imag

The book is a collection of short stories, poems, and essays by the author. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author.

Do your students enjoy a good laugh? Do they like to be scared? Or do they just like a book with a happy ending? No matter what their taste, our Creative Short Stories series has the answer.We've taken some of the world's best stories from dark, musty anthologies and brought them into the light, giving them the individual attention they deserve. Each book in the series has been designed with today's young reader in mind. As the words come to life, students will develop a lasting appreciation for great literature.
The humor of Mark Twain...the suspense of Edgar Allan Poe...the danger of Jack Lo


Three Plays: Gruesome Playground Injuries / Animals Out of Paper / Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

psycho-analysis a few Hamlets still survive. Pirandello is one of them.
What are people really like? In the business of everyday life, nothing

and to be left in a naked reality that is, after all, so unreal.
These two plays indicate the present tendency of Pirandello's rapid

CONTENTS
PREFATORY NOTE
SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR—A COMEDY IN THE MAKING
"HENRY IV."
RIGHT YOU ARE (IF YOU THINK SO!)

SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR
(Sei personaggi in cerca d'autore)
A COMEDY IN THE MAKING
BY
LUIGI PIRANDELLO
TRANSLATED BY EDWARD STORER

when, by mistake, the stage hands let the curtain down.
The spectators will find the curtain raised and the stage

see (to Property Man). Let's have a little light, please!
PROPERTY MAN. Yes sir, yes, at once (a light comes down on

Second act of "Mixing it Up" (sits down).
(The actors and actresses go from the front of the stage to

curious room serving as dining-room and study."
THE MANAGER (to Property Man). Fix up the old red room.
PROPERTY MAN (noting it down). Red set. All right!
THE PROMPTER (continuing to read from the "book"). "Table

doors at the rear, and curtains.
PROPERTY MAN (noting it down). Right oh!
PROMPTER (reading as before). "When the curtain rises, Leo

the puppet of yourself. Do you understand?
LEADING MAN. I'm hanged if I do.
THE MANAGER. Neither do I. But let's get on with it. It's

white, with a black silk sash at the waist.
THE SON (22) tall, severe in his attitude of contempt for
THE FATHER, supercilious and indifferent to the MOTHER.

He looks as if he had come on the stage against his will.
DOOR-KEEPER (cap in hand). Excuse me, sir....
THE MANAGER (rudely). Eh? What is it?
DOOR-KEEPER (timidly). These people are asking for you,

much the better! We can be your new piece.
AN ACTOR (coming forward from the others). Oh, do you hear

willing....
THE MANAGER. You are trying to be funny.
THE FATHER. No, for Heaven's sake, what are you saying? We

bring you a drama, sir.

Rajiv Joseph is one of today's most acclaimed young playwrights. The winner of numerous awards, including an NEA Award for Best Play and a Whiting Writers Award, he is an artist to watch. This volume gathers together for the first time his three major plays to date.
Included herein are his latest play, Gruesome Playground Injuries, which charts the intersection of two lives using scars, wounds, and calamity as the mile markers to explore why people hurt themselves to gain another's love and the cumulative effect of such damage; Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, a "philosophical and existential


The Heart of Unaga

live cinders strewn upon the ground.
"Oh, yes?" he said. "And you guess they sleep all the time?"
The tone of his voice was incredulous.
"Sure, boss," one of the Indians returned, quite unaffected by the tone.

sleep and waking which is the very essence of enjoyment to his kind.
Inspector Allenwood picked up a live coal in his bare fingers. He

Julyman, they're human folks—the same as we are."
The flat denial of his "boss" was quite without effect upon Julyman.

man. No him die young. Only very old. Him much wise man."
The white man smiled tolerantly. He shrugged.
"Guess you got a nightmare, Julyman," he said. "Best turn over."
Steve had nothing to add. He knew his scouts as he knew all other

folklore he had listened to in his time.
Julyman, too, considered the subject closed. He had said all he had to

good-sized European country, and these scouts were his only assistants.
They were at headquarters now enjoying a brief respite from the endless

were the rugged coast line of the Hudson's Bay itself.
His task left Steve Allenwood without complaint. It was never his way to

his steady eyes again and he nodded.
"Sure," he said. "Bimeby she come. Then I laff—like hell."
Julyman's sympathy warmed. He felt he had struck the right note. His

trail. Then he moved off in the direction of his four-roomed log house.
Left alone the Indians remained at the fireside; Oolak—the

set the dark blood in his veins surging to his head.
"Why sure," he heard him say, "the boys did it good. They're bright

woman," as they affectionately called the doctor's wife.
"It was the best party we've had in a year," she cried enthusiastically.

oysters and the claret cup. My! it certainly was a swell party."
The wagon had drawn considerably nearer. The quick ears of the Indian

And how he hated the sound of that voice.
"Why, say, Dora," he heard him exclaim in good-natured protest, as the

Allenwood and I sat out but two dances. Ain't that so, Nita?"
Julyman's ears suddenly pric

The story of a young man who is a scout and a detective. He is the only one who can be trusted to find out the truth about his life.

The Heart of Unaga was published in the spring of 1920, and is one of the most thrilling of [the author's] books. It paints on a gigantic canvas the frozen terrors of the great white North, and the almost unbelievable sufferings, privations and powers of endurance called upon from those human beings, white or native, who are compelled to pass through a winter in its remote latitudes.


Randolph Caldecott: The Man Who Could Not Stop Drawing

consideration of his later work is reserved for a future time.
Although the text of this book is little more than a setting for the

Chap.PAGE
I.—His early Art Career1
II.—Drawing for "London Society"13
III.—In London, the Harz Mountains, etc.29
IV.—Drawing for "The Daily Graphic"51
V.—Drawing for "The Pictorial World"67
VI.—At Farnham Royal, Bucks90
VII.—"Old Christmas"100
VIII.—Letters, Diagrams, etc.117
IX.—Royal Academy, "Bracebridge Hall," etc.134
X.—On the Riviera148
XI.—"Breton Folk," etc.165
XII.—At Mentone, etc.190
XIII.—Conclusion203
Appendix211

Gentleman in love who happens to be walking before a Policeman!
"This is not a Culprit going to gaol—it is only a

'process.' I think I shall do them, I want coin!"
But he had soon other work in hand as will be seen in the next chapter.

energy, ardour, and the world before him."
In February and March, 1872, he was still drawing for the magazines and

under E. J. Poynter, R.A., until the 29th June.
As this was the turning point in Caldecott's career, it should be

proprietors of Punch, and on the 22nd June, 1872, the first appeared.
In the same month he exhibited a frame of four small sepia drawings at

July. On the 9th he is "engaged on chalk caricatures all day."[Pg 32]
A letter dated 21st July, 1872, to one of his Manchester friends is

worth having for the ludicrous sketch accompanying it. He writes:—
"London is of course the proper place for a young man, for

travel, and on the 20th August 1872 he enters in his diary:—
"To Rotterdam, Harzburg, &c., to join Mr. and Mrs. B. in the Harz

A Mountain Path.
A Mountain Path.
[Pg 36]
Life at a German watering-place, as seen on a small scale in summer in

A Warrior of Sedan in a Beer Garden at Goslar, 1872.
A Warrior of Sedan in a Beer Garden at Goslar, 1872.

formed a shelter and resting-place.
There was no need of a romantic legend to suggest to the mind, at the

and many little incidents on the road were dotted down for future use.
In t

The first book in the series of books by the author, Caldecott, is a collection of his drawings.

Randolph Caldecott is best known as the namesake of the award that honors picture book illustrations, and in this inventive biography, leading children's literature scholar Leonard Marcus examines the man behind the medal. In an era when the steam engine fueled an industrial revolution and train travel exploded people's experience of space and time, Caldecott was inspired by his surroundings to capture action, movement, and speed in a way that had never before been seen in children's picture books. Thoroughly researched and featuring extensive archival material and a treasure trove of previous


The Making of the New Testament: Origin, Collection, Text & Canon

CHAPTER VI
THE MATTHÆAN TRADITION OF THE PRECEPTS OF JESUS
As we have seen in our study of the later

with the question of eating with Gentiles (xi. 3, 7 f.).
[11] The assertion has recently been made in very high

19!
[12] On the reading "Greeks" in Acts xi. 20 see footnote 10
[13] The actual outcome is seen in the reduction of the

This apostle was also regarded as author of the Gospel according to
the Hebrews, a heretical product of c. 120, current in Greek

which Jesus the living Lord spoke to the disciples and Thomas."
[19] The possibility should be left open that the Greek

Peter was still alive, but gave no aid to the writer.
[22] See below.
[23] Note, also, how in Acts vi. 5 the list of

the editorial recasting of xi. 22-30.
[25] See above, p. 104.
[26] Note the addition of an "eighth" emperor in ver. 11.
[27] Not 2nd John; for it is only in 1st John ii. 18 that

Marcion (140) counted ten in all, and had a different order.
[32] A miscount for "fourth," unless we disregard xx.

in English. A book for experts. 671 pp., 8vo.
Jülicher, A. Engl. transl, by D. A. Ward, from 4th German ed.

school, by H. J. Holtzmann. 650 pp., large 8vo.
Zahn, Theo. Engl. transl. from 3rd German ed., by M. W. Jacobus.

Shaw, R. D. The Pauline Epistles, Introductory and Expository
Studies, 2nd ed. T. & T. Clarke, 1904. 518 pp., large 8vo. Sober

and cautious. For general readers.
Ramsay, W. M. Pauline and other Studies in Early Christian
History. Hodder & Stoughton, 1906. 425 pp., large 8vo. The Cities
of St. Paul (1907, 468 pp.) is by the same author, an eminent

standard exposition of Paul's system of thought. A book for experts.
Baur, F. C. Paul the Apostle of Jesus Christ, his Life and Work,
Epistles and Doctrine. Engl. transl. of Zeller's (2nd), German ed.,

of Pauline study will soon be made accessible to the English reader.
Wrede, W. Paul. Engl. transl. by E. Lummis. P. Green, London,

suggestive. Needs the balance of more cautious criticism.
Weiss, J.

The book is a collection of essays by the author, and includes a number of essays on Christianity.

What motivated the early Christians to commit teaching and events and visions to papyrus? How were the stories and sayings of Jesus circulated, handed down and shaped into Gospels? Why were four Gospels included instead of one? What do we know about ancient letter writing, secretaries and "copy shops"? Would a first-century librarian have known how to classify a Gospel, an Acts or an Apocalypse? How were Paul's letters, sent here and there, gathered into a single collection? Are there other documents that almost made it into the New Testament but didn't? The narratives and letters of our New T


The Day of Small Things (An Elizabeth Goodweather Appalachian Mystery #5)

This day, price 2s. boards; 2s. 6d. cloth,
SEVEN TALES BY SEVEN AUTHORS.
Edited by F. E. Smedley, Esq., Author of “Frank Fairlegh,” &c.

Price 3s. cloth; or 3s. 6d. gilt edges,
THE MANUAL OF HERALDRY;
Being a concise Description of the several Terms used, and containing

With Notes of a Tour of Personal Observation and Inquiry in 1859.
By John Weir, D.D., Minister of the English Presbyterian Church,

Fifth Thousand, price 2s.,
THE BACKWOODS PREACHER:
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF PETER CARTWRIGHT.
Edited by W. P. Strickland. Reprinted from the last American

MOST ELEGANT CHRISTMAS PRESENT.
THE BOOK OF THE THAMES,
FROM ITS RISE TO ITS FALL.
By Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall. With numerous Illustrations.

Young and old all brought their troubles,
Small and great, for me to hear:
I have often bless’d my sorrow,
That drew others’ grief so near.
Adelaide Procter.

how steep and long the road was, even to its foot.”
“Oh, it’s a goodish step,” said Phillis.
“But I thought nothing of it afterwards,” said

be God’s will; and at length I succeeded.”
“That was a good job,” said Phillis.
“At the top of the hill, there was a steep patch

myself), the Garden of the Lord.”
“Wasn’t that rather wicked?” said Phillis.
“Why, whose else was it, Phillis? Man had

nothing to do with it.”
“A woman had, you mean,” said Phillis.
“No, I don’t.”
“Why, wasn’t you a woman?—leastways, a

Wood of the Holy Spirit.”
“I wonder you wasn’t afraid,” said Phillis.
“No, ‘the voice of the Lord’ seemed walking

“‘Why Lonicera wilt thou name thy child?’
I asked the gardener’s wife, in accents mild.
‘We have a right,’ replied the sturdy dame:
And Lonicera was the infant’s name.”

floor, she stood transfixed, and tragically exclaimed—
“What’s that I see?”
The poor woman looked cowed; and I am sure

find one of them that is not involved in debt.”
“Ah, they have so many public expenses.”
“And private people have so many private expenses.

mount up—expenses I cannot afford.”
“I see.”
“So it end

A saga of the '70s and '80s, this book is a collection of the most popular novels of the period. It is based on the novel of the same name by the author of the first volume of the series.

A night of reckoning . . .
A dawn of danger . . .
In the misty folds of Appalachia, the girl they call Least grows up cursed by her mother's cruelty and blessed by her neglect. Deemed unfit to join the outside world, Least turns to the wisdom of the land, to voices she alone can hear, to legends left by native Indians, and to the arts of divination and healing. But the time comes when Least has to choose between a doting suitor and her childhood magic, between his church and her spirits. Now, as her life enters its final chapter, her world has been invaded by a violent criminal with a chilling


Root of Evil (The Foley Chronicles: Files from the 8th District - Book 2)

The chatter of the sparrows, the shouts of children in the Square and the huckster's drawling call seemed the subtones of a strangely beautiful oratorio of nature into which every sound of earth had softly melted. Even the roar of the elevated trains on Sixth Avenue and the screech of their wheels as the cars turned the corner of the filthy street in the rear were music. A secret joy filled the world. Nothing could break its spell—not even the devilish incessant rattle of the machine hammers flattening the heads of the rivets on the huge steel warehouse of the American Chemical Company rising across the avenue. The music he heard was from within, and the glory of life was shining from his eyes.

The dreamer closed his eyes and smiled. A flood of tender memories stole into his heart from the sunlit fields of the South. He had gone hunting wild strawberries with Nan Primrose on the hills at home in North Carolina the day he first knew that he loved her.

How beautiful she was that day in the plain blue cotton dress which fitted her superb young figure to perfection! How well he remembered every detail of that ramble over the red hills—he could hear now the whistle of a bob white sitting on the fence near the spring where they lunched, calling to his mate. As Nan nestled closer on the old stile, they saw the little brown bird slip from her nest in a clump of straw, lift her head, and softly answer.

He recalled distinctly his tremor of sympathetic excitement as her warm hand drew him to the spot. With peculiar vividness he remembered the extraordinary moisture of the palm of her hand trembling with eager interest as he counted the eggs—twenty beauties. But above all memories stood out one! As he bent close above her he caught for the first time in his life the delicate perfume of her dark rich hair and felt the thrill of its mystery.

And when she stood silent and blushing, he made the final plunge. Looking straight into her dark eyes he had said:

As she stood very st

The story of a young man who is a snobby, sexy, and a little girl who is in love with his mother.

Detective Quin Butler is the new guy in the Homicide Division of Foley's 8th District. He isn't in town long when he and his partner, Senior Detective John Filcher, draw their first case together.
A man is found bludgeoned to death and his motel room ransacked. Nothing at the scene suggests what the killer was after. To add to the mystery, his body is riddled with odd-shaped markings. As they work the investigation, new evidence in a cold case comes to light and makes life even more hectic for the pair.
Trouble abounds for Quin in his personal life when he meets a beautiful woman, who happens


The Victorian Age

but prepares the way for its most hated rival.
[Pg 6]The German Von Eicken found, in this tendency of all human movements to

fervour of a Scottish peasant.
Ruskin was a Platonist, steeped in the study of Plato, and bound to him by

these abuses were rectified long before the end of the reign.
The Universities were slowly emerging from the depths to which they had

improvements[Pg 26] between 1837 and the first Jubilee were enormous.
The Civil Service, it is almost needless to say, was a sanctuary of

whiskers, who arrived late and departed early from their Offices.
The Army in 1837 consisted, in actual strength, of about 100,000 men, of

Consort, a far wiser man than was recognised during his lifetime.
The Crimean War revealed in glaring colours the incompetence of the

party politics, and kept up the public interest.
In foreign politics it is not so easy to share Lecky’s opinion. The opium

wealth which two generations of peaceful industry had gathered, was begun.
We have to remember that the prosperity and security of the happy time[Pg 34]

Ovid, if we will:
Prisca iuvent alios; ego me nunc denique natum
Gratulor; haec aetas moribus apta meis.
But let us have the decency to uncover before the great men of the last

short, and his period of production very short indeed.
Tennyson is now depreciated for several reasons. His technique as a writer

the Bar.
Tennyson knew materialism and revolution, and whither they tend.
The children born of thee are sword and fire,

Reel back into the beast and be no more.
We are told that he is shallow, an echo of the thoughts of educated men at

leaders, which Darwin calmly ignored, and Huxley returned with interest.
But though the contradictions and perplexities of rapid transition were

generation what it was in the time of their fathers and grandfathers.
[Pg 48]I have taken Tennyson as my example of Victorian literature, because his

occupies the most favourable part of the curve.
[Pg 50]Of the other glories of

The opium wealth was a Platonist, steeped in the study of Plato, and bound to him by these abuses were rectified long before the end of the reign.

A History of Fashion and Costumeexamines the development of costume and fashion over time--from the earliest cave dwellers to the present--along with the social history that gave rise to it. Introducing readers to the rich world of fashion and dress, this eight volume set vividly depicts the changing styles, processes, and trends--from the first people to wear clothes in the last Ice Age to the courtly fashions of medieval Europe to the globalization of Western style--that led to the clothing of today.
Describing both the practical uses of clothing and the highly impractical clothes that have