The People of the Crater

of movement and an air of alertness.
"Aren't you Captain Garin Featherstone?"
Startled, the flyer nodded dumbly.
From a plump billfold the man drew a clipping and

to this country. Now I am preparing to sail south again."
"But I don't see—"
"How you can help me? Very simple, Captain Featherstone.

wonder at the driving motive behind Farson's vague plans.
When the supply ship sailed, not to return for a year,

a man who allowed one to eat regularly again.
Four days later they set out. Helmly, one of the engineers,

Garin, with the extra supplies, was alone in the third.
He was content to be alone as they took off across the

voice chattered in his earphones.
"That's it. Set course straight ahead."
The shadow grew until it became a wall of purple-blue

haze were a toxic gas?
"Close up, Featherstone!" barked Farson suddenly.
He obediently drew ahead until they flew wing to wing.

His hands and feet still manipulated the ship, but it flew!
On the ship hurtled through the thickening mist. He

whirled again into the steady light of the green land.
Trees came out of the ground, huge fern-like plants with

move lest the pain prove more than he could bear.
It was then that he heard the pattering sound outside.

that hundreds of the Folk must be gathered there.
"Urg!" the being on the throne commanded.
The chieftain moved a step toward the dais.
"Do you take this youth and instruct him. And then

to exchange grain for a liquid rubber produced by the Folk.
Then there was the Gibi, a monstrous bee, also friendly

the blue wall of the crater which disputed the Folk's rule.
As Garin tried to probe further a gong sounded. Urg

arose.
"It is the hour of eating," he announced. "Let us go."
They came to a large room where a heavy table of white

Ana eyed so wistfully that Garin gave it to the creature.
The Folk ate silently and arose quietly when they had

at Garin, a gentle teasing in her voice as she explained:
"This is for the Daughter when she comes to her

The enigmatic and savage Captain Featherstone is a man who has been a fugitive for years. He is the only one who can survive the gruesome, brutal, and sometimes deadly consequences of his actions.

Andre Norton was a 20th century American writer best known for his historical fiction, such as Civil War military books and Westerns.


The Dance (The Restoration Series #1)

Æsthetic basis of the dance; national character expressed in dances; ‘survival value’ of dancing; primitive dance and sexual selection; professionalism in dancing—Music and the dance; religion and the dance; historic analysis of folk-dancing and ballet.

Lack of art sense among the Hindoos; dancing and the Brahmin religion; the Apsarazases, Bayaderes and Devadazis; Hindoo music and the dance; dancing in modern India; Fakir dances; philosophic symbolism of the Indian dance.

Biblical allusions; sacred dances; the Salome episode and its modern influence—The Arabs; Moorish florescence in the Middle Ages; characteristics of the Moorish dances; the dance in daily life; the harem, the Dance of Greeting; pictorial quality of the Arab dances.xii

Æsthetic subservience to Greece; Pylades and Bathyllus; the Bellicrepa saltatio; the Ludiones; the Roman pantomime; the Lupercalia and Floralia; Bacchantic orgies; the Augustinian age; importations from Cadiz; famous dancers.

The mediæval eclipse; ecclesiastical dancing in Spain; the strolling ballets of Spain and Italy; suppression of dancing by the church; dances of the mediæval nobility; Renaissance court ballets; the English masques; famous masques of the seventeenth century.

The rise of nationalism—The Spanish folk-dances: the Fandango; the Jota; the Bolero; the Seguidilla; other Spanish folk-dances; general characteristics; costumes—England: the Morris dance; the Country dance; the Sword dance; the Horn dance—Scotland: Scotch Reel, Hornpipe, etc.—Ireland: the Jig; British social dances—France: Rondo, Bourrée and Farandole—Italy: the Tarantella, etc.—Hungary: the Czardas, Szolo and related dances; the Esthonians—Germany: the Fackeltanz, etc.—Finland; Scandinavia and Holland—The Lithuanians, Poles and Southern Slavs; the Roumanians and Armenians—The Russians: ballad dances; the Kasatchy and Kamarienskaya; conclusion.

The Pavane and the Courante; the Allemande and the Sarabande; the Minuet and the Gavotte; the Rigaudon and ot

The earliest known work of the poet, a relic of the saga of the "Secret of the Man" is a collection of poems by the poet and his wife, whose works are regarded as the most important in the history of literature.

Jim Anderson is a successful businessman, and his wife, Marilyn, is the perfect wife. And why wouldn't she be? He gives her everything she needs. That's why Jim never expected to come home one day and find Marilyn gone.
After 27 years of marriage, Marilyn has had enough of feeling unloved and neglected. She wants to experience some measure of happiness before she's too old to enjoy it, even signing up for dance lessons, something Jim would never do. What will it take for Jim to finally become the man Marilyn needs him to be?
Combining the literary talents of bestselling author Dan Walsh and th


A Human Element

him and his small suitcase it would be too late.
And that would be that.
The transport slowed noiselessly to a stop and most of the passengers

course, not the same as the real thing. Neither was the amphitheater.
Once there had been great canvas tents put up in the open air, and wood

book.
The circus was beginning and Kevin interrupted his reverie to watch.
On small elevated squares in the center of the great arena stood

disintegrated by a sudden rainbow fusion of all the rays.
He listened as the recorded commercials whispered their wiles to the

the man next to her without taking her eyes from the shining bubble.
"Can you see it, Jim?"
"Yeah," the man answered softly.
"I always dreamed of playing a love scene with Dirk Anders. He's the

the naked look in the man's eager eyes.
A child of nine or ten in front of Kevin clutched excitedly at the

girl in the first tier of seats.
Kevin waved to her.
She hid her face in her hands. And then waved shyly back.
Kevin skipped about the arena watching the people whispering among

waving to the children.
"Wave to me! Wave to me!" cried a shrill voice from the stands.
Kevin did not see the robots approaching on the run and yet was not

remembered.
"Are you crazy?" the second man sputtered.
Kevin slowly removed the wig and the white skull piece and stood with

piece, wiped the clown make-up from his face.
Both men, out of breath, paused and Kevin opened his mouth to speak. "I

want to apolo—," he began but Caldwell interrupted him.
"Hey, Mike," he said to the other man, "Isn't this the guy whose

was not merely the result of his exertion in the arena moments before.
He stood quietly before the two men. The shouting from the arena did

from the past and a clown was one of them.
A circus without noise and fanfare and excitement and laughter was

would one day prove to be crawling with nightmares.
"—something written about this a long time ago," Caldwell was saying

frustrations and all."
"But, sir—" the yo

The story of a young man who is a magician and has been a clown for years. He is the only one who can see the world from the perspective of he is unable to see the universe.

One by one, Laura Armstrong's friends and adoptive family members are being murdered, and despite her special healing powers, there is nothing she can do to stop it. The killer haunts her dreams and leaves cryptic notes advising her to use her powers to save herself because she's next. Determined to find the killer, she follows her visions to her hometown and the site of a crashed meteorite. There she meets Ben Fieldstone, who seeks answers about his parents' death the night the meteorite struck. In a race to stop a mad man, they unravel a frightening mystery that binds them together. But the


Maru

your tastes are simple and beyond the lure of whisky and civilisation.
The last trader had died in this paradise, of whisky, or gin—I forget

to me “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Do you?” replied I.
“I don’t know,” said Lygon. “I almost think I do, because every one

everywhere you will find ghost believers.”
“Lombrosso has written something like that,” said I.
“Has he? Well it’s a fact, but all the same it’s not evidence, the

tabu comes into it. This is it.”
And this is the story somewhat as told by Lygon.
Some fifty years back when Pease was a pirate bold, and Hayes in his

and wounded on that salt white strand.
That was the Spaniard. Then came a whaler who took what she wanted and

a little old schooner slank in one early morning.
She lay in the lagoon like a mangy dog, a humble ship, very unlike the

three were women, widows of men who had died of the smallpox.
Maru was unmarried, and as the king of the community he might have

women killed another man because he had brained the man of her fancy.
Then the dead were buried in the lagoon—Maru refusing to help because

and breasted the tumble at the break.
Maru standing aft saw the island with the white foam fighting the coral

Maru into the silence of a new world.
They worked free of the Paumotus into the region of settled winds and

or chief woman of her people now that her husband was dead.
And Maru was able to tell her by degrees of what he could remember, of

canoes beached on the spume-white beach beneath the palms.
“Some day they will come,” said Talia. She knew her people, those sea

and crying at the break had one word, Maru, Maru, Maru.
Then one day, swimming out near the bigger break in the reefs, a

was drawing them through the break towards the devouring sea.
They had to fight their way back; the ebb just beginning would soon be

twenty strokes of the beach when Talia cried out suddenly and sank.
Maru, who was slightly in front, turned and found her gone. She had

moment that a shark h

The story of a young woman who is a pirate and has been a slave to the Spanish. She is unable to find her husband, and she is able to tell her people, those sea and crying at the break had one word, Maru, Mar U, MarU.

An orphaned Masarwa girl comes to Dilepe to teach, only to discover that in this remote Botswana village her people are treated as outcasts. In the love story and intrigue that follow, the author's exploration of racism draws upon her own experiences of growing up in South Africa.


Inca Land: Explorations in the Highlands of Peru

Page viiPreface
The following pages represent some of the results of four journeys into the interior of Peru and also many explorations into

the labyrinth of early writings which treat of the Incas and their Land. Although my travels covered only a part of southern

Peru, they took me into every variety of climate and forced me to camp at almost every altitude at which men have constructed

houses or erected tents in the Western Hemisphere—from sea level up to 21,703 feet. It has been my lot to cross bleak Andean

passes, where there are heavy snowfalls and low temperatures, as well as to wend my way through gigantic canyons into the

dense jungles of the Amazon Basin, as hot and humid a region as exists anywhere in the world. The Incas lived in a land of

violent contrasts. No deserts in the world have less vegetation than those of Sihuas and Majes; no luxuriant tropical valleys

have more plant life than the jungles of Conservidayoc. In Inca Land one may pass from glaciers to tree ferns within a few

hours. So also in the labyrinth of contemporary chronicles of the last of the Incas—no historians go more rapidly from fact

It was the mystery and romance of some of the Page viiiwonderful pictures of a nineteenth-century explorer that first led me into the relatively unknown region between the Apurimac

pencil of such an artist, nevertheless, I hope that some of them may lead future travelers to penetrate still farther into

Some of my story has already been told in Harper's and the National Geographic, to whose editors acknowledgments are due for permission to use the material in its present form. A glance at the Bibliography

will show that more than fifty articles and monographs have been published as a result of the Peruvian Expeditions of Yale

based partly on a study of these monographs and the writings of former travelers, partly on the maps and notes made by my

of large expeditions is the bringing to bear on the same problem of minds which have received w

The earliest book of the Incas, "The Inca's Adventure," is a collection of stories and poems by the author.

A firsthand account of the discovery of the lost city of Machu Picchu details Bingham's expedition through the treacherous Peruvian highlands in pursuit of the great Inca landmark and the once powerful civilization that build it.


Wild Roses

CHAPTER
TITLE
PAGE
I.A Cowboy Celebration1
II.New Trails15
III.Morgan’s Dance28
IV.Fire Water42
V.Fisherman’s Luck52
VI.Ankanamp65
VII.Mountaineer Memories75
VIII.Remembering the Early Days83
IX.After the Ball99
X.Companionship110
XI.Mountain Fun120
XII.Among the Tepees129
XIII.At Shadow Pool138
XIV.At the Old Shack147
XV.The Fatal Throw161
XVI.The Roundup166
XVII.Ranch Roses177
XVIII.By the Cabin Fire196
XIX.In the Heart of the Hills204
XX.A Turn in the Trail221
XXI.The End of the Long Trail233

dancing and singing all over the grassy and sage-spread flats.
The cowboys at the Bar B ranch were sprawled about on their bunks,

ranch dogs, lay near him, lazily snapping at the buzzing flies.
When the scraping process was done, Jim rubbed his persecuted face to

Pat.” He dashed a cup of water into the waking Irishman’s face.{4}
“Ye dirty son of a Yankee!” blurted Pat, jumping up, and making for the

joker; “it’s auld Ireland that can lick you, if auld England didn’t.”
“Stop, or I’ll shoot,” said Jim, jerking a flask of whisky out of his

hip pocket, and pointing it at the wrathful cook.
“Be jabers, if it’s loaded,” said Pat, checking himself, “I’ll give up.”
He grabbed the bottle out of Jim’s hand, uncorked it, and said, “Here’s

Then he took a long drink and smacked his lips.
The rest of the boys, roused by the noise, were laughing over the fun.
“Pass the bottle around, Pat,” said Jim; “drink hearty, boys.”
Every one but Dan Miller and Fred Benton took a drink; they passed the

raised the bottle and took another drink.
A wild thumping of horses’ hoofs was heard outside. The boys jumped up

flying in front of them.
“Hello, you stags!” shouted Nixon; “got anything to drink?”
“Sure an’ we have,” returned Pat; “bring the bucket, Tiddy, and water

’em.”
“Oh, to hell with your water; give us some whisky.”
“Well, seein’s it’s you,” said Jim, reaching up the flask. It soon went

the rounds and returned empty.
“Got any race horses?” said Nix

The epoch of the American Civil War is a time when the world was in turmoil. The Civil War was a period of great conflict, and the Civil War had been a long time coming.

You would have never recognized the Dino I lived with in the books that had been written about him before the "incident."
No one had a clue. No one seemed to see what was coming.
Seventeen-year-old Cassie Morgan lives with a time bomb (a.k.a. her stepfather, Dino Cavalli). To the public, Dino is a world-renowned violin player and composer. To Cassie, he's an erratic, self-centered bully. And he's getting worse: He no longer sleeps, and he grows increasingly paranoid. Before Cassie was angry. Now she is afraid.
Enter Ian Waters: a brilliant young violinist, and Dino's first-ever student. The mi


The Four Faces

"I didn't run across him; he ran across me, and in rather a curious way.
      We live in Linden Gardens now, you know. Several of the houses there are
      almost exactly alike, and about a month ago, at a dinner party we were
      givin', a young man was shown in. His name was unknown to me, so I
      supposed that he must be some friend of my wife's. Then I saw that he was
      a stranger to her too, and then all at once he became very confused,
      inquired if he were in Sir Harry Dawson's houseSir Harry lives in the
      house next to oursand, findin' he was not, apologized profusely for his
      mistake, and left hurriedly."

"Anyone might make a mistake of that kind in some London houses," the
      second speaker said. "What is he like? Is he a gentleman?"

"I won't say 'nothin',' but I know comparatively little about him. Houston
      and Prince, the house agents, assure me they've made inquiries, and that
      he is a rich young man whose uncle amassed a large fortune in TasmaniaI
      didn't know fortunes were to be made in Tasmania, did you? The uncle died
      six months ago, Houston and Prince tell me, and Hugesson Gastrell has
      inherited everything he left. They say that they have ascertained that
      Gastrell's parents died when he was quite a child, and that this uncle who
      has died has been his guardian ever since."

"It somehow seems to me very strange that I should have come to know this
      man, Gastrell, without introduction of any kindeven have become intimate
      with him. On the day after he had come to my house by accident, he called
      to fetch a pair of gloves which, in his confusion on the previous evenin',
      he had left in the hall. He asked if he might see me, and then he again
      apologized for the mistake he had made the night before. We stayed talkin'
      for, I suppose, fully half an hourhe's an excellent talker, and
      exceedingly well-informedand incidentally he me

The first book in the series of novels by the author Hugesson Gastrell, this is a novel that has been translated into English.

The king continued: "From this day forward we will refer to our four sons as The Four Faces. The future of the kingdom is in the hands of The Four Faces. It's vital that they find the right answer. I don't even want to think of the possibility that they could come back without the answer."
Human, Lion, Ox, and Eagle are sent on a journey to find out what their purpose is. On their quest, they journey through interesting and wonderful places; they meet strangers, friends and foes; they are challenged with the unknown and with themselves. Will they succeed?


Shadrach

in a rug...."
"Trink?" piped a thin, reedy voice at Chip's elbow. "Trink, ssor?"
Chip shook his head in reply to the Martian barman's query. Damned

looked—and always would to Chip—like ungainly flowers of madness.
"No," he said. "Not just now, thanks. Later." He returned his gaze to

man's shoulder.
"Trink?" piped the persistent voice of the barman.
"Blast jets!" said Chip curtly. "I'll order when I get damn good

everyone else the momentary byplay he had glimpsed.
As the newcomer slipped his arm about the drunken man's shoulder, the

in vain. The drunk had retrieved the object, shoved it into a pocket.
But Chip Warren knew what the object was. It was a ball of ekalastron!
Ekalastron! Most recently discovered, rarest, and most precious of

left him at the mercy of his companions.
But Chip was watching. And moving on raw instinct, without a thought

song. Chip's challenging voice echoed its brittle crispness.
"Hold course a minute, buckoes!" he ordered. "What in space goes on

flamed upon him from the eyes of the newly arrived Earthman.
Everything about the man was cold, bitter and bleak as the hostile

right do you intrude on a private party?"
Chip shook the man's hand from his wrist. His eyes parried with hot

defiance the stranger's frigid calm.
"By the right of any man," he growled, "to see fair play! I saw—"
"A moment, sailor!" The man's voice was like a low note struck in

together!" he commanded. "We're getting out of here!"
The man came to with a start, stared at Chip Warren blearily.

drunk to grieved awareness.
"Hey! Don' do that! We're pals, ain't we? All—"
"I wouldn't know about that," snorted Chip. "But I do know these

head jerked up, his eyes widened, and a hand clawed at his pocket.
"What? My ekalastron? The filthy thieves—!"
His loud voice carried throughout the room clearly. Too clearly. For

drawn and wildly flaming as the throng charged the bar.
Chip only lived in that moment because he lay helplessly asprawl upon

purposeless

The ekalastron ball is a ball of e Kalastron. Chip Warren knows what the object is.

Even after Davie had had the little black rabbit, Shadrach, for several weeks, it was still almost unbelievable. Every morning when Davie woke up it was a miracle all over again there in his grandfather's barn sat a little black rabbit, and it was his.David had never been happier... until the day Shadrach slipped through the slats of his hutch and disappeared.


The Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow

I am afraid I have somewhat belied half the dear old lady's prophecy.
      Heaven help me! I have done a good many things that I ought not to have
      done, in spite of my laziness. But I have fully confirmed the accuracy of
      her judgment so far as neglecting much that I ought not to have neglected
      is concerned. Idling always has been my strong point. I take no credit to
      myself in the matter—it is a gift. Few possess it. There are plenty
      of lazy people and plenty of slow-coaches, but a genuine idler is a
      rarity. He is not a man who slouches about with his hands in his pockets.
      On the contrary, his most startling characteristic is that he is always
      intensely busy.

It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work
      to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do.
      Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one.
      Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.

Many years ago, when I was a young man, I was taken very ill—I never
      could see myself that much was the matter with me, except that I had a
      beastly cold. But I suppose it was something very serious, for the doctor
      said that I ought to have come to him a month before, and that if it
      (whatever it was) had gone on for another week he would not have answered
      for the consequences. It is an extraordinary thing, but I never knew a
      doctor called into any case yet but what it transpired that another day's
      delay would have rendered cure hopeless. Our medical guide, philosopher,
      and friend is like the hero in a melodrama—he always comes upon the
      scene just, and only just, in the nick of time. It is Providence, that is
      what it is.

Well, as I was saying, I was very ill and was ordered to Buxton for a
      month, with strict injunctions to do nothing whatever all the while that I
      was there. "Rest is what you

The author of the first book in the series, a young man who has been taken seriously by a doctor, is a very active and passionate person. He is able to understand the nature of his work and how it affects him. He also knows how to use his talents to make a difference.

Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow is a collection of humorous and entertaining essays written by popular English humorist Jerome K. Jerome. This work is considered widely to be on the of better works of Jerome, and uses the same style as Three Men in a Boat, but was not nearly as popular as that title. Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow is highly recommended for those who enjoy the humorous writings of author Jerome K. Jerome and also for those who are discovering his writings for the first time.


The History of John Bull

CHAPTER VII. How John Bull was so mightily
        pleased with his success that he was going to leave off his trade and
        turn Lawyer.

CHAPTER XII. How John grew angry, and resolved
        to accept a Composition; and what Methods were practised by the Lawyers
        for keeping him from it.*

CHAPTER XIII. Mrs. Bull's vindication of the
        indispensable duty incumbent upon Wives in case of the Tyranny,
        Infidelity, or Insufficiency of Husbands;

CHAPTER XVI. How the guardians of the deceased
        Mrs. Bull's three daughters came to John, and what advice they gave him;
        wherein is briefly treated the characters of the three daughters. Also
        John Bull's answer to the three guardians.*

CHAPTER II. The Character of John Bull's Sister
        Peg,* with the Quarrels that happened between Master and Miss in their
        Childhood.

CHAPTER VII. Of the hard shifts Mrs. Bull was
        put to preserve the Manor of Bullock's Hatch, with Sir Roger's method to
        keep off importunate duns.*

CHAPTER X. Of some extraordinary Things* that
        passed at the "Salutation" Tavern, in the Conference between Bull, Frog,
        Esquire South, and Lewis

CHAPTER XIII. How Jack hanged himself up by the
        persuasion of his friends, who broke their words, and left his neck in
        the noose.

CHAPTER XIX. Nic. Frog's letter to John Bull:
        wherein he endeavours to vindicate all his conduct, with relation to
        John Bull and the lawsuit.

The book was begun in the year 1712, and published in four successive
      groups of chapters that dealt playfully, from the Tory point of view, with
      public affairs leading up to the Peace of Utrecht. The Peace urged and
      made by the Tories was in these light papers recommended to the public.
      The last touches in the parable refer to the beginning of the year 1713,
      when the Duke of Ormond separated his troops from those of the Allies and

The epoch of the Civil War is a time when the world was in turmoil, and the world had to be re-enforced. The Civil War was a period of great struggle, and it was not easy to get through. But the Civil war was fought with a lot of passion, and a great deal of determination.

A scholarly edition of a work by John Arbuthnot. The edition presents an authoritative text, together with an introduction, commentary notes, and scholarly apparatus.


Rescue Mission (Gladiator Boy, #5)

into hands of ... ruler. In prison. Going to be tortured. I....
Mason struggled to keep his attention on his descending spaceship while

hear you.
They're going to torture me. Help me, Mason. Help!
Where are you? Mason asked.
Dungeons of the main palace, Mordarga City. Hurry, Rick. There's not

Venusian again but Klon Darra was not sending.
They made a good team, Mason and the Venusian. A pair of Earthmen

and security of the Solar System.
Suddenly Klon Darra's voice sounded in his mind.
Mason, have you landed yet?
Yes. I'm on my way. You all right?
They still don't know why I'm on Mordarga. They picked me up on

suspicion. If you can get me out of here before they find out.
I'm three miles out of Mordarga City. Can you hold out for another

essential information from him. But there were other methods.
Klon Darra said: They've sent for a telepath. Once they penetrate my

mind they'll know why we're here. We'll both be cooked.
Don't worry, Mason telepathed. I'll be there with bells on.
There were occasional buildings now, he saw; the main bulk of Mordarga

Earthmen on Mordarga were, if not common, at least not totally unknown.
Mason kept his eyes to the ground and walked quickly past the

trouble with them now.
He tried a message to Klon Darra.
Hey, Venusian! How's it going?
The telepath is due to arrive in one hour, Rick. Where are you now?
On the outskirts, just coming into the city. I'll be there to spring

Mason quickened his pace. There was time but not much.
He stepped between a pair of drunken Mordargans who were jostling each

which they could move and wondered if he could outrun them.
"Sorry," he snapped. "I'm too busy for a drink now."
He lowered his head and ran.
They grunted in surprise and started to chase him. He heard their heavy

just trying to be sociable but this was no time for that.
"Ho, Earthman! You run fast but your legs are short!"
He glanced back. They were gaining on him. A tangle of buildings

loomed up ahead and he

The telepath is sent to Mordarga City, where Mason and the Venusian are being held.

Decimus Rex is once more back in the clutches of the evil Slavious Doom. Tasked with entering the catacombs beneath the arena to bring back the fabled Blade of Fire, Decimus immediately demands the release of all his friends in return for agreeing to take on the mission. Doom, however, has other plans.


William Shakespeare: The Complete Works

I
A BIOGRAPHY OF SHAKESPEARE DIFFICULT BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE
When we pass from the notabilities of the nineteenth century to

notes of stenographers or on "prompt copies" dishonestly acquired.
It has become the fashion to say, not without some show of justice,

and dresses, and who has carefully dated the production of many plays.
To these contemporary evidences we must add that of tradition. In

in several instances lent them curious confirmation.
We owe it, then, to a little group of worthy but by no means brilliant

citizens, is again fined fourpence for the same misdemeanour.
The matter is not without interest, since it is in all probability to

sanitation that Shakespeare's early death is to be ascribed.
Both on his father's and his mother's side, the poet was descended from

scenes of a like nature[1] (Henry V., ii. 3 and iii. 3).
Of royal and princely splendour Shakespeare had probably certain

Fifth, which supplied some of the material for his Henry IV.
Probably Shakespeare, as a boy and youth, was not content with seeing

Induction to the old play he was here adapting.
From this time forward John Shakespeare's position goes from bad to

will. This son died at the age of eleven.
It was probably soon after the birth of the twins that Shakespeare

entirely fallen into disuse. People then went to the play by water.
A Stratford tradition represents that Shakespeare first entered the

neighbourhood lay Eastcheap, the street in which stood Falstaffs tavern.
The central points of London were at that time the newly erected

magnificent gondola, followed by a crowd of gaily decorated boats.
In the City itself no theatres were tolerated. The civic authorities

fingers, seing all men's fingers are not alike cleane."[1]
We see, too, that Coryat was the first to introduce the new appliance

penalty. Calais, her last foothold on the Continent, was lost.
With Elizabeth, Protestantism ascended the throne and became a power

herself was present at his funeral, a

The Stratford tradition of Shakespeare's play is a very important one. It is the first time that Shakespeare has been able to use his own words and phrases to describe his life. This book is based on the original work of Shakespeare, which was published in 1858.

"But thy eternal summer shall not fade"
"Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; "
"Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, "
"When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: "
"So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, "
"So long lives this, and this gives life to th"ee.
-- from Sonnet 18
No home should be without this: every play, from the early histories to the sad, wise" Winter's Tale "and "The Tempest"; every exquisitely crafted sonnet; every long poem (such as "Venus and Adonis" and "The Rape of Lucrece") written by the greatest writer in the English language. This edition


A Bid for Fortune or Dr Nikola's Vendetta

I only hope I've done right, that's all."
As he spoke, the chief bookkeeper, who had the treble advantage of being

the papers she had brought in for his signature.
"You have just hit it, Miss O'Sullivan," he answered, pushing them

waiting for her to speak.
"It's very funny," she said. "Very funny indeed!"
"It's the most extraordinary communication I have ever received," he

to the main chance.
"And where is Cuyaba?" she asked humbly.
"Cuyaba," he replied, rolling his tongue with considerable relish round

with the famous Brazilian Diamond Fields."
"And does the writer of this letter live there?"
"I cannot say. He writes from there—that is enough for us."
"And he orders dinner for four—here, in a private room overlooking the

is in China, Bloemfontein is in South Africa."
"What a wonderful man you are, to be sure, Mr. McPherson! I never can

think how you manage to carry so much in your head."
There spoke the true woman. And it was a move in the right direction,

carpet by coming farther.
"Is No. 22 ready, Williams?"
"Quite ready, sir. The wine is on the ice, and cook tells me he'll be

put on those shades I got this morning?"
"Just seen it done this very minute, sir."
"And let me see, there was one other thing." He took the letter from the

request, but has it been attended to?"
"I put it there myself, sir."
"Who wait?"
"Jones, Edmunds, Brooks, and Tomkins."
"Very good. Then I think that will do. Stay! You had better tell the

when they arrive tell him to show them straight up to the room."
"It shall be done, sir."
The head waiter left the room, and the manager stretched himself in his

savings and a share in an extensive egg and dairy business.
At ten minutes to eight precisely a hansom drew up at the steps of the

the gentleman in clerical costume pacing impatiently up and down.
Left alone, the tallest of the trio, who for want of a better title we

again, and took it in turns to examine the clock.
"Have you ever had the pleasure of meeti

The story of a young woman who is a snobby, sexy, and a little bit smitten with the world.

Boothby's Nikola may be the world's first modern super villain: he is a master of hypnotism and mind control, a telepathic adept, and an astral projectionist. He can cause ordinary men to see images in pools of liquid, and prophesy into the future. It's said that he knows the hour, moment, and method of his own demise.


Her Ladyship's Elephant

CHAPTER I
IN WHICH THE SAME QUESTION IS ANSWERED IN TWO WAYS
Harold Stanley Malcolm St. Hubart Scarsdale, Esq., of "The Towers,"

amiable society nonsense: I want an explanation."
"Yes, Miss Vernon," he replied, nerving himself for the ordeal.
"Why did you propose to Aunt Eliza at the Andersons' crush last night?"
"Because——" he faltered. "Well, really, you see she is your only

offers of marriage to the head of the family."
"I really don't see why you want to marry her," continued his tormentor.

with English society. Of course her private means are enormous——"
"Good heavens! Miss Vernon," he exclaimed, "there has been some dreadful

but I don't wish to marry her; I wish to marry—somebody else——"
"Really! Why don't you propose to Miss Somebody Else in person, then?"
"It is usual——" he began, but she cut him short, exclaiming:
"Oh, bother! Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude, but really, you know,

she's too old for that sort of thing. Do tell me what she said to you."
"She said I must propose on my own account," he blurted out, "and that

she could not pretend to advise me."
"Clever Aunt Eliza!" murmured Miss Vernon.
"So you see," continued her lover, determined to have it over and know

marry an English girl, who won't mind."
"I haven't said so!" he interjected.
"No," she said meditatively, "you haven't. I'll tell you what they are

'chattel.'"
"Oh I say——" he began. But she went on, unheeding his expostulation:
"Then my husband couldn't beat me, not even once, though the law allows

it."
"What do you take us for?" he exclaimed.
"Then," she proceeded, "he would have to love me better than his horses

only he noticed that all of a sudden she had become very serious.
"Lady Mary, my mother, you know, would of course leave the place to you

account."
"Then you will marry me!" he cried, and sprang towards her.
She saw her slip and tried to correct it.
"I haven't said——" she began, but the sentence was never finished; for

been invited especially

The story of the sailor who was a smuggler, and the feisty man who was an English girl, is a fascinating tale of the life of a young woman.

Author David Dwight Wells once noted, "The best criticism that the author received of 'Her Ladyship's Elephant' was from an old lady who wrote him that it had made her forget a toothache."


Faraday as a Discoverer

Daily and weekly, from all parts of the world, I receive publications
      bearing upon the practical applications of electricity. This great
      movement, the ultimate outcome of which is not to be foreseen, had its
      origin in the discoveries made by Michael Faraday, sixty-two years ago.
      From these discoveries have sprung applications of the telephone order,
      together with various forms of the electric telegraph. From them have
      sprung the extraordinary advances made in electrical illumination. Faraday
      could have had but an imperfect notion of the expansions of which his
      discoveries were capable. Still he had a vivid and strong imagination, and
      I do not doubt that he saw possibilities which did not disclose themselves
      to the general scientific mind. He knew that his discoveries had their
      practical side, but he steadfastly resisted the seductions of this side,
      applying himself to the development of principles; being well aware that
      the practical question would receive due development hereafter.

During my sojourn in Switzerland this year, I read through the proofs of
      this new edition, and by my reading was confirmed in the conviction that
      the book ought not to be suffered to go out of print. The memoir was
      written under great pressure, but I am not ashamed of it as it stands.
      Glimpses of Faraday's character and gleams of his discoveries are there to
      be found which will be of interest to humanity to the end of time.

[Note.—It was, I believe, my husband's intention to substitute this
      Preface, written a few days before his death, for all former Prefaces. As,
      however, he had not the opportunity of revising the old prefatory pages
      himself, they have been allowed to remain just as they stood in the last
      edition.

The experimental researches of Faraday are so voluminous, their
      descriptions are so detailed, and their wealth of

The electric telegraph is a very important part of the world, and it is hoped that this book will be a source of inspiration for many people.

The life and discoveries of the English chemist and physicist who contributed significantly to the fields of electromagnetism and electrochemistry.


Look to the Stars

twice, lived thrice, and was both male and female by turns?"
"Tell me of them all; but first, mother, who was the mightiest of the

sea, and breathed his own life into her nostrils."
"But, mother, was he not defeated in battle?"
"It was a battle beyond our understanding—of forces that we cannot

two moons now circle the continents of N'urth."
"Then Bar-Doo-Chan, who defeated Maha-Ra-Lin, was the mightiest."
"Nay, that you must not say. True, at the end of three days

hand."
"Then, after all, Maha-Ra-Lin was the greatest?"
"He was a mighty being, son. Yet how can any be considered greater

had dumped him off on this byway to nowhere.
He should have kept to the paved highway. A light blinking through the

must lead somewhere, even if only to a deserted sawmill or mine shaft.
His feet slipped and he went down cursing. As he struggled out of the

waters his ears caught the sound of hammering on metal.
Feeling his way along the side, he came to a man who was muttering to

upraised hood.
"Trouble, buddie?" demanded Marlin.
The other jerked up his head so suddenly that it struck the hood. He

"And get goin' if you can't help."
"Why don't you turn on the lights?"
"Because she ain't got no lights—that's why."
"Battery dead?" asked Marlin. Receiving no answer, he edged back to the

the hand which rested on the seat.
"Take your paws off me, you slimy fish!" came a tense feminine voice.

in the seat became a sudden bundle of fury.
"Easy, sister!" he protested, deftly capturing the small hands in his

length of chain connecting the handcuffs tinkled.
"Sorry, bo," he said softly. "The lady's jewelry intrigues me."
A hard object pressed sharply into his side. "Scram!"

something better. I saw a light up beyond."
"I'm tired of sitting in the car," the girl put in. "Anything's better

tangling with the law." He tapped his chest.
"Detective—eh?"
"Yeah," the girl cut in, "and don't forget to tell him about your phony

stunt—kidnaping me across the state line with

The story of a young man who is a sailor and a fisherman. He is the only one who can survive on the sea, and he is the most powerful man in the world.

Leonato Blakeley, heir to the earldom of Pennyworth, has no intention of marrying any time soon. He's not against marriage, unless the term is being paired with his name. His great-uncle, the matchmaking Duke of Danby, has arrived in town, and Leo needs A Plan.
American heiress Miriam Rosenbaum has crossed an ocean to study the stars with the best scientists in the field. Well, perhaps her mother thinks they're in London to find husbands for the scandalous Madcap Rosenbaum sisters. But Miriam is determined not only to visit the Royal Observatory, but participate in their groundbreaking researc


Astounding Stories
What are "astounding" stories?
Well, if you lived in Europe in 1490, and someone told you the earth was

wire—or without any wire at all—that would have been another.
Or if, in 1900, they predicted ocean-crossing airplanes and submarines,

you beginning with this, the first number of Astounding Stories.
It is a magazine whose stories will anticipate the super-scientific

Meek, Harl Vincent, R. F. Starzl and Victor Rousseau.
So—order your next month's copy of Astounding Stories in advance!—The Editor.

unbroken to the horizon on every side.
It came out of the south, and yet, a hundred miles further back along

for the better part of that year.
Not that they could not have reached it sooner. As a matter of fact,

so, but within the fraction of an inch.
It had something to do with Einstein, and something to do with

glass from the cabin, was something like the front seat of a limousine.
"Well, Captain, we followed that break for a hundred miles, and there's

rock. This thing was lying in a hollow among them."
"If I didn't see it before my eyes, I'd think you crazy, Tommy," said

of Old Red Sandstone, instead of in the year 1930 A. D.
It was generally known—though the story had been officially

didn't they win the supremacy over man?"
Jimmy Dodd had muttered till he went to sleep, and he had muttered

fossils, though his own interest in them was of the slightest.
The dogs were being harnessed next morning when the two men hopped into

he answered. "It's only an hour's flight to where he found that fossil."
"Just as you please," said Storm curtly. He knew that Tommy's judgment

calculated on. The storm struck the biplane with full force.
A snowstorm was driving up rapidly, blackening the sky. The sun, which

which they had started had already become twilight.
Tommy was tempted to turn back, but it was only a hundred miles, and

hundred miles per hour to eighty, sixty, forty—less.
The storm was beating up furiously. Of a sudden the clou

The first number of Astounding Stories will anticipate the super-scientific Meek, Harl Vincent, R. F. Starzl and Victor Rousseau, you beginning with this, the first number.

COVER DESIGN
H. W. WESSOLOWSKI - Painted in Water-colors from a Scene in "The Beetle Horde."
Title: Astounding Stories of Super-Science January 1930
Author: Victor Rousseau
Captain S. P. Meek
Ray Cummings
M. L. Staley
C. V. Tench
Murray Leinster
Anthony Pelcher
Editor: Harry Bates
Release Date: November 25, 2012 [EBook #41481]
Language: English
The second part of THE BEETLE HORDE can be found here: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/28617/...


The Jumblies and Other Nonsense Verses

Lear’s other works.
Oliver Wendell Holmes has said in a well-known poem, that—
“There is nothing that keeps its youth—

So far as I know—but a tree and truth.”
He might have added certain writings; and among those that are as fresh

THE JUMBLIES.
THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT.
THE BROOM, THE SHOVEL, THE POKER AND THE TONGS.
THE DUCK AND THE KANGAROO.
THE CUMMERBUND.
THE DONG WITH A LUMINOUS NOSE.
THE NEW VESTMENTS.
CALICO PIE.
THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BÒ.
INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF MY UNCLE ARLY.

But we don’t care a button, we don’t care a fig!
In a Sieve we’ll go to sea!”
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

And happen what may, it’s extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!”
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!”
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!”
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

We too will go to sea in a Sieve—
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!”
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”

And

The saga of the sailor who sailed on the moon in the 18th century is a tale of two voyages, one to the moon and the other to the sea. The story is about the journey of a young man who has been swept away by the mighty Moon.

Edward Lear's delightful nonsense verse is as fresh and fun now as it has always been. This brilliant collection from 1900 is illustrated by the peerless L. Leslie Brooke. It contains: 'The Jumblies', 'The Owl and the Pussy-Cat', 'The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs', 'The Duck and the Kangaroo', 'The Cummerbund', 'The Dong with a Luminous Nose', 'The New Vestments', 'Calico Pie', 'The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo' and 'Incidents in the Life of my Uncle Arly'. This color version has been carefully typeset to keep as close to the original as possible, faithfully reproducing the


Ladysmith

CHAPTER I
ON THE EDGE
NEWCASTLE, NATAL, Thursday, October 5, 1899.
Late last Sunday night I found myself slowly crawling towards the front

has large quantities of relations, and one of them is always dying.
By the courtesy of the Pretorian Government I had secured room in the

"Home, Sweet Home," with variations.Pg 4
It must have been the next evening, as we were waiting three or four

will that the Transvaal perish, we can only do our best."
At Zandspruit, the scene of the old Sand River Convention, the whole

variously.
Pg 9
CHAPTER II
AT THE BRITISH FRONT
LADYSMITH, NATAL, Wednesday, October 11, 1899.
Ladysmith breathes freely to-day, but a week ago she seemed likely to

populations entirely ruined, the campaign would have begun badly.
For the Boers it was a fine strategic opportunity, and they were

out here. I have only met one Irishman, and he was unhappy.
But for the grotesque side of refugee unhappiness one should see the

suspicious eyes to right and left with fear.
The air is full of wild rumours. A boy riding over Laing's Nek saw 1,000

with lies which may at any moment be true.
Half the Manchesters have just marched in to trumpet and drum. When I

and circumstance seem all on one side.Pg 18
Friday, October 13, 1899.
So it has begun at last, for good or evil. Here we think it began

Pg 20
CHAPTER III
THE FIRST WEEK'S WAR
LADYSMITH, Thursday, October 19, 1899.
It is a week to-day since the Boers of the Transvaal and Free State

can answer that one question of ours: Will they come on?
Yesterday it seemed as though they were coming. The advance of two main

stupendous thunder complete the scene.
Pg 30
CHAPTER IV
BATTLE OF ELANDS LAAGTE
LADYSMITH, October 22, 1899.
It was a fair morning yesterday, cool after rain, the thin clouds

by, a store, a hotel, and some houses.
The Boers had occupied it two days before, had captured a train there,

into the plain, firing into us at long range, quite without effect.
At half-past one Genera

The story of the 'Boers' is a fascinating and informative account of the history of the British Empire. It is based on the story of a young man who was a member of the Royal Family of England during the Civil War. He was able to escape from the ruthless forces of the Boers, and was unable to escape the ruins of his homeland.

There is a saying among the old ones, "If you dream of a mare, a MacLeod is sure to be near." Rohanna MacLeod grew up listening to her grandmother's stories of her family and the old country, the myths and legends of the Fae becoming dearer to her with each loss in her young life. True to her family name, Rohanna carries the MacLeod gift with horses. With single minded determination, she denies herself everything else that life offers in order to keep what is hers, to keep and preserve the family farm from an abusive stepmother she abhors. Everything changes when she runs into trouble on the w


Flower of the Dusk

FLOWER OF THE DUSK.
LOVE AFFAIRS OF LITERARY MEN.
A SPINNER IN THE SUN.
LOVE LETTERS OF A MUSICIAN.
LATER LOVE LETTERS OF A MUSICIAN.
THE SPINSTER BOOK.
LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.
THE MASTER'S VIOLIN.
AT THE SIGN OF THE JACK-O'-LANTERN.
THE SHADOW OF VICTORY.
THE BOOK OF CLEVER BEASTS.
PICKABACK SONGS.

"Secretly, too, both were ashamed, having come unawares upon knowledge that was not meant for them."
"Secretly, too, both were ashamed, having come unawares upon knowledge that was not meant for them."

at last had waked the world.
The man who stood near the edge of the cliff, quite alone, and carefully

eternally lost in the Water of Forgetfulness.
Slowly, the light died. Dusk came upon the valley and crept softly to

"there was no sunset at all."
The road was clear until he came to a fallen tree, over which he stepped

he crushed a bit of it in his hand.
Easily, yet carefully, he went around the base of the hill to the

spoke to him first.
"You're late, Father, dear."
"Am I, Barbara? Tell me, was there a sunset to-night?"
"Yes, a glorious one."
Seeing with the Soul
"I thought so, and that accounts for my being late. I saw a beautiful

to do him some small service.
"Thank you, Miriam; you are always kind."
The tiny living-room was filled with relics of past luxury. Fine

outwardly, at least, showed every year of its age.
Still, the room had "atmosphere," of the indefinable quality that some

was solid, and the cup from which Ambrose North drank was Satsuma.
On the coarse cloth were the heavy, cheap dishes and the discouraging

[5]which, with a lump in her throat, she called "Mother's pearls."
Discovering that the sound of her crutches on the floor distressed him

sat down and held his slender hands close to the grateful warmth.
"It isn't cold," he said, "and yet I am glad of the fire. To-day is the

first day of Spring."
"By the almanac?" laughed Barbara.
"No, according to the almanac, I believe, it has been Spring for ten

one of them in bl

The eponymous novel of the same name, "The Book of Life," is a story of a young woman who is swept up in the world of the slumber party. She is surrounded by her friends and family, and is reunited with her parents. Her life is shaped by the events that have happened to her.

Myrtle Reed (1874-1911) was an American author, the daughter of Elizabeth Armstrong Reed and the preacher Hiram von Reed. She sometimes wrote under the pseudonym of Olive Green. Reed was born in Chicago, where she graduated from the West Division High School. In 1906 she was married to James Sydney McCullough. She died of a drug overdose in Chicago, Illinois. Amongst her books are: The Spinster Book (1901), Lavender and Old Lace (1902), The Shadow of Victory (1903), A Spinner in the Sun (1906), Flower of the Dusk (1908), Old Rose and Silver (1909), Master of the Vineyard (1910), Sonnets to a L


Myths of Babylonia and Assyria

year. So was a brilliant career brought to an untimely end.
Rassam was engaged to continue Smith's great work, and between

the area in which it took definite and permanent shape.
In Babylonia, as elsewhere, we expect, therefore, to find a

rivers, cultivate the fields, build their houses, and so on.
But although Ea became a beneficent deity, as a result of the

phenomena, and whose lovers were the spirits of the seasons.
In the alluvial valley which they rendered fit for habitation

adjustment to which they were subjected in new environments.
The petty kingdoms of Sumeria appear to have been tribal in

early god with whom she was equal in power and dignity.
In the later systematized theology of the Babylonians we seem

tree is a survival of tree and water worship.
If Eridu was not the "cradle" of the Sumerian race, it was

streams", and "on this water to put his pure spell".
The worship of rivers and wells which prevailed in many countries was

The gods which seize on men
  Came forth from the grave;
The evil wind gusts
  Have come forth from the

At Erech she had a shrine in the temple of the sky god Anu.
We can trace in Babylonia, as in Egypt, the early belief that

from fright or by sucking out the breath of life.
As most representatives of the spirit world were enemies of

along.
No door can shut them out;
No bolt can turn them back.
Through the door, like a snake, they

desired to establish the rule of evil over gods and mankind.
In the "Legend of Etana" the Eagle, another demon which links

royal house, and the family affairs of their acquaintances.
The Babylonian spirit world, it will be seen, was of complex

of deities, or exercised a magical control over nature.
The Babylonian myth of Tammuz, the dying god, bears a close

one goddess and part of the year with the other.
It is suggested that the myth of Adonis was derived in

the waters, Mitra acting in the right way. Rigveda, iii, 5, 3.
Agni, who has been looked and longed for in Heave

The first book in the series of books by the author, "The Book of the Dead" is a collection of short stories written by the writer. It is based on the story of the Babylonian god Anu, who has been looked upon as a demon and a goddess. The book is adapted from the novel of the same name by the same author.

"Myths of Babylonia and Assyria" takes a look at the ancient history of the land that is now part of Iraq and the Middle East. The book looks at the myths and legends of Babylonia and Assyria, and how these ancient tales reflect the beliefs and development of these early civilizations. The historical narrative of the book begins with the early Sumerian Age and concludes thirty centuries later with the periods of the Persian and Greek Empires.


Woodcarving: Projects And Techniques

[5]
WOOD-CARVING
DESIGN AND
WORKMANSHIP
BY GEORGE JACK
WITH
DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR
AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1903
[6]
Copyright, 1903,
By D. Appleton and Company
All rights reserved
Published October, 1903

Desirable—Advantages of Pine and English Oak
CHAPTER V
52
SHARPENING THE TOOLS
The Proper Bevel—Position of Tools on Oilstone—Good and Bad

Design—Economy of Detail Necessary—The Word "Conventional"
CHAPTER IX
88
ROUNDED FORMS
Necessity for every Carver Making his own Designs—Method of

Carving Rounded Forms on a Sunk Ground
CHAPTER X
96
THE PATTERNED BACKGROUND
Importance of Formal Pattern as an Aid to Visibility—Pattern and

Choice of Natural Forms Governed by a Question of Pattern
CHAPTER XI
103
CONTOURS OF SURFACE
Adaptation of Old Designs to Modern Purposes—"Throwing

and Sawing out the Spaces—Some Uses for Pierced Patterns
CHAPTER XIV
115
HARDWOOD CARVING
Carvings can not be Independent Ornaments—Carving Impossible on

Character—Methods of Carving Grapes
CHAPTER XV
137
THE SKETCH-BOOK
Old Work Best Seen in its Original Place—Museums to be approached

Character—Carvers the Historians of their Time
CHAPTER XVII
153
STUDIES FROM NATURE—FOLIAGE
Medieval and Modern Choice of Form Compared—A Compromise

Adopted—A List of Plant Forms of Adaptable Character
CHAPTER XVIII
161
CARVING ON FURNITURE
Furniture Constructed with a View to Carving—Reciprocal Aims of

Handled—The Introduction of Animals or Figures
CHAPTER XIX
180
THE GROTESQUE IN CARVING
Misproportion Not Essential to the Expression of Humor—The Sham

Foreshortening—Superposition of Masses
CHAPTER XXII
214
UNDERCUTTING AND "BUILT-UP" WORK
Undercutting as a Means and as an End; its Use and

Carver—Carpenters' Imitation of Stone Construction Carried too Far
CHAPTER XXV
234
SURFACE FINISH—TEXTURE
Tool Marks, the Importance of their Direction—The Woody Texture

Dependent upon Clearness of Cutting and Sympathetic Handling

The earliest known work of the aristocrats, and the first to be published in the United States, is a collection of works by the acclaimed author, William H. MacDonald, which was published in 1848.

This compilation of articles and photographs from 'Woodcarving' magazine, combines sound technical advice and easy-to-follow instructions with inspirational projects for all levels of ability. Renowned author Chris Pye takes you through each project from concept to completion.


The Philosopher's Joke

Also, of course, I did not consider myself debarred from speaking about
      it, discreetly, to Mrs. Armitage, a charming woman. She burst into tears
      at the first mention of the thing. It took me all I knew to tranquillize
      her. She said that when she did not think about the thing she could be
      happy. She and Armitage never spoke of it to one another; and left to
      themselves her opinion was that eventually they might put remembrance
      behind them. She wished they were not quite so friendly with the Everetts.
      Mr. and Mrs. Everett had both dreamt precisely the same dream; that is,
      assuming it was a dream. Mr. Everett was not the sort of person that a
      clergyman ought, perhaps, to know; but as Armitage would always argue: for
      a teacher of Christianity to withdraw his friendship from a man because
      that man was somewhat of a sinner would be inconsistent. Rather should he
      remain his friend and seek to influence him. They dined with the Everetts
      regularly on Tuesdays, and sitting opposite the Everetts, it seemed
      impossible to accept as a fact that all four of them at the same time and
      in the same manner had fallen victims to the same illusion. I think I
      succeeded in leaving her more hopeful. She acknowledged that the story,
      looked at from the point of common sense, did sound ridiculous; and
      threatened me that if I ever breathed a word of it to anyone, she never
      would speak to me again. She is a charming woman, as I have already
      mentioned.

By a curious coincidence I happened at the time to be one of Everett's
      directors on a Company he had just promoted for taking over and developing
      the Red Sea Coasting trade. I lunched with him the following Sunday. He is
      an interesting talker, and curiosity to discover how so shrewd a man would
      account for his connection with so insane—so impossible a fancy,
      prompted me to hin

The author of the novel "The Red Sea Coasting Trade" (Seacoasting) is a well-known author of novels and short stories. He has written many books and articles about the sea coasting trade, including "The Reef", "The Sea Coaster", "An Island in the Sea," and "The Ocean.".

Myself, I do not believe this story. Six persons are persuaded of its truth; and the hope of these six is to convince themselves it was an hallucination. Their difficulty is there are six of them. Each one alone perceives clearly that it never could have been. Unfortunately, they are close friends, and cannot get away from one another; and when they meet and look into each other's eyes the thing takes shape again. The one who told it to me, and who immediately wished he had not, was Armitage. He told it to me one night when he and I were the only occupants of the Club smoking-room.


Antic Hay

rambling way about the existence and the nature of God.
Standing in front of the spread brass eagle and fortified

feeling, was that less real and valid than two plus two?
The Reverend Pelvey had nothing to reply. He was

caro nome!
“Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God,” said Mr. Pelvey.
Even when the ulcers are benign; thou shalt fear. He

from the eagle, and the organ presaged the coming Te Deum.
Gumbril hoisted himself to his feet; the folds of his B.A.

were the minds of men.
“O Lord, have mercy upon us: have mercy upon us.”
Gumbril shrugged his shoulders and looked round the

(f) For slack hands and (dim.) idle minds
(mf) Mischief still the Tempter finds.
(ff) Keep him captive in his lair.

or looped up, perhaps, and fastened to a clip on one’s braces.
“The nineteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles,

hair-cut and before the shampoo, there must be singeing.
“The hair, gentlemen, is a tube. If you cut it and leave

unhappy; and it was impossible for him to explain.
In 1906 he had fallen in love for the first time—ah,

that at last, at last, he was doing something about life.
When the chop was eaten, he went upstairs and, after

by evening in summer-time, to roost in their branches.
On fine evenings he used to sit out on his balcony waiting

they were silent, it was time to think of serious matters.
To-night, however, he was not working; for always on

scientific or literary education.”
“And you’re one of the ones?” asked his father.
“That goes without saying,” Gumbril Junior replied.
“I think you mayn’t be so far wrong,” said Mr. Porteous.

may I ask?”
“I mean to begin by making some money.”
Gumbril Senior put his hands on his knees, bent forward

hair fell into his eyes. “You won’t,” and he laughed again.
“To make money,” said Mr. Porteous, “one must be

really interested in money.”
“And he’s not,” said Gumbril Senior. “None of us are.”
“When I was still uncommonly hard up,” Mr. Porteous

idea came to me—the idea of Gumbril’s Patent Smal

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 of the book.

London life just after World War I, devoid of values and moving headlong into chaos at breakneck speed - Aldous Huxley's Antic Hay,like Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises,portrays a world of lost souls madly pursuing both pleasure and meaning. Fake artists, third-rate poets, pompous critics, pseudo-scientists, con-men, bewildered romantics, cock-eyed futurists - all inhabit this world spinning out of control, as wildly comic as it is disturbingly accurate. In a style that ranges from the lyrical to the absurd, and with characters whose identities shift and change as often as their names and appear


Babyland

Hark! the shining stars are singing,
And the azure skies are ringing:
Angels joyful news are bringing,
“There’s a baby born.”

The soft winds played in the summer grove,
That the sunlight made aglow,
When a small face peered through the garden gate
’Mong the roses pure as snow:
And in sweet, shy tones came the wondrous words,
“We’ve a baby; did you know?”

We all forget what our griefs have been,
And the toils and tears and strife,
As the wee bright angels come to earth,
Just born to an endless life;
And the words will fall like a holy thrill,
As adown life’s path we go,
And listen yet to the echoes sweet,
“We’ve a baby; did you know?”

Softly sway the little cradle;
Softly in the quiet night
Let my pure beams touch the darling,
As I kissed Eve’s babies bright.
As I played among the tresses
Of her lovely Abel’s head,
As I poured my floods of silver
’Round her happy ones long fled.

When the grand old Ark was building,
Noah’s babies then I kissed,
And they laughed and cooed their welcome,
When full-orbed I cheered the east.
Through the long and fearful Deluge
I was hidden from the Ark,
But when cleared away the tempest
And the sky was chill and dark,

Then I rose, my lamp full-burning,
Pouring silver on the flood,
Till the mighty, shoreless ocean,
Sparkling, shouted praise to God.
How I watched the Ark while billows
Were returning to their place,
And glad hearts from Noah’s window
[9]So rejoiced to see my face.

Sway the little cradle softly;
Let me touch the darling’s cheek.
Every darling, through the ages,
In their thoughts to me will speak.
Baby lips for me are smiling;
Baby fingers point to me,
When my silver sails spread widest
On the great, blue, silent sea.

Baby’s little bed should be
White as drifting snow;
Pure and sweet as Heaven’s air,
Where the soft clouds glow.
Baby’s tiny coverlet
Should be lambs’ wool white,
Dainty as the pelican,
Fluffy, warm and light.
Baby’s pillow should be made
Light as eider do

The eponymous novel by the poet and author of the same name, "The Book of Life" is a story of love, loss, and the discovery of the life of a young woman. It is based on the story of the firstborn of the girl, who was born to an endless life.

When an unexpected pregnancy enters the picture six months before her impending nuptials, Anna Trauslen, a 37-year-old events planner, is forced to re-evaluate her glamorous lifestyle and make some minor adjustments.


Book Of Earth

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
MCMXXV
[iv]
Copyright, 1925, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All rights reserved, including that of translation

Out of the Painted Desert, in broad noon,
Walking through pine-clad bluffs, in an air like wine,
I came to the dreadful brink.

I saw, with a swimming brain, the solid earth
Splitting apart, into two hemispheres,
Cleft, as though by the axe of an angry god.
On the brink of the Grand Canyon,
Over that reeling gulf of amethyst shadows,
From the edge of one sundered hemisphere I looked down,
Down from abyss to abyss,[2]
Into the dreadful heart of the old earth dreaming
Like a slaked furnace of her far beginnings,
The inhuman ages, alien as the moon,
Æons unborn, and the unimagined end.
There, on the terrible brink, against the sky,
I saw a black speck on a boulder jutting
Over a hundred forests that dropped and dropped
Down to a tangle of red precipitous gorges
That dropped again and dropped, endlessly down.

But O, what art could guide me through that maze?[15]
What kingly shade unlock the music sealed
In that dread volume?
Sons of an earlier age,
Poet and painter stretched no guiding hand.

Even the gaunt spirit, whom the Mantuan led
Through the dark chasms and fiery clefts of pain,
Could set a bound to his own realms of night,
Enwall then round, build his own stairs to heaven,
And slept now, prisoned, in his own coiling towers....

Leonardo—found a shell among the hills,
A sea-shell, turned to stone, as at the gaze
Of his own cold Medusa. His dark eyes,
Hawk-swift to hunt the subtle lines of law
Through all the forms of beauty, on that wild height
Saw how the waves of a forgotten world
Had washed and sculptured every soaring crag,[16]
Ere Italy was born. He stood alone,—
His rose-red cloak out-rippling on the breeze,—
A wondering sun-god. Through the mountain-peaks,
The rumour of a phantom ocean rolled.
It tossed a flying rainbow at his feet
And vanished....
Milton—walked in Paradise.

The epoch of the American Civil War is a time when the world was in turmoil. The Civil War began with the destruction of the West, and the Civil War became the first war to be waged by the United States. Then the Civil war began. The emergence of the Civil Wars began.

To retrieve the amulet that will save his life, Score must return to Earth with Pixel and Helaine -- even if it risks all their lives.


Young Man from Manchester and certain Moral Reflections.
EXCEPT for those who, under compulsion of a sick certificate, are flying

says “cabman” to the driver of the ticca-ghari.
Now Jeypore from the Anglo-Indian point of view is a station on the

from the train the Taj wrapped in the mists of the morning.
There is a story of a Frenchman “who feared not God, nor regarded man,”

hate being done! If there’s anything I hate it’s being done!”
He had been so happy in the “thought of getting home by Christmas,” and

worthy of the consideration of some leisurely Teuton intellect.
Envy may have prompted a too bitter judgment of the Young Man from

writer of discrimination and void of conscience!
But to return to Jeypore—a pink city set on the border of a blue lake,

of Jey Singh, they took all the credit to themselves.
He built himself everything that pleased him, palaces and gardens and

superb library and he made Jeypore a marvel.
Later on came a successor, educated and enlightened by all the lamps of

we get elephants? Who is the man to write to for all these things?”
Thanks to the courtesy of the Maharaja, it is possible to see

were wrong, but in too many cases they were right.
The Englishman left the stables and the great central maidan where a

him, and the trio mocked the captive from a distance.
It was not a pleasant sight and suggested Globe-Trotters—gentlemen who

detailed information of a Cotton Press.
AND what shall be said of Amber, Queen of the Pass—the city that Jey

accept his services as a matter of course.
Rise very early in the morning, before the stars have gone out, and

too great a store on corrugated iron-roofs and glazed drain-pipes.
So the Englishman went into this palace built of stone, bedded on stone,

only answer was the cooing of the pigeons on the walls.
If a man desired beauty, there was enough and to spare in the palace;

engines and the smell of the raw cotton.
The modern side of Jeypore must not be mixed with the ancient.{

The reprint of the first edition of the novel, "The Tale of Jeypore" is a reprinted version of the original novel.

Avast, me hearties! Be ye ready for an alphabet adventure? Climb aboard then, mateys! As readers accompany a crew of pirates on their exciting treasure hunt, 'Letters of Marque: ABCs for the Savvy Scalawag' delivers a thoroughly enchanting journey for pre- schoolers, and a uniquely entertaining experience for everyone! Cast off the lines and prepare for a fun, educational voyage of pirate lore, nautical rhymes, and engaging shipboard illustrations as the buccaneers roam the seven seas!


The Worm Ouroboros

Gorice XII. in Carcë
The Lords Juss, Goldry Bluszco, Spitfire, and Brandoch Daha
In Koshtra Belorn
Soldiers of Demonland
Hippogriff in Flight
The Last Conjuring in Carcë

TRUE Thomas lay on Huntlie bank,
A ferlie he spied wi his ee;
And there he saw a Lady bright
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o the velvet fyne,
At ilka tett of her horse’s mane
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pulld aff his cap,
And louted low down on his knee:
“Hail to thee, Mary, Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth could never be.”

“O no, O no, Thomas,” she says,
“That name does not belang to me;
I’m but the Queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

“Harp and carp, Thomas,” she says,
“Harp and carp alang wi me.
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be.”

“Betide me weal, betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunton me.”
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

To W. G. E. and to my friends K. H.
and G. C. L. M. I dedicate this book
It is neither allegory nor fable but a Story to be read for its own

sky from behind the straight clean outline of the Screes.
Cool long shadows stole across the tennis lawn. The air was golden.

He had her hand in his. This was their House.
“Should we finish that chapter of Njal?” she said.
She took the heavy volume with its faded green cover, and read: “He

Here I ride swift steed,
His flank flecked with rime,
Rain from his mane drips,
Horse mighty for harm;
Flames flare at each end,
Gall glows in the midst,
So fares it with Flosi’s redes
As this flaming brand flies;
And so fares it with Flosi’s redes
As this flaming brand flies.

the flames and vanished there.
“After that he went to his bed, and was senseless for a long time, but

we sleep in the east wing to-night?”
“What, in the Lotus Room?”
“Yes.”
“I’m too much of a lazy-bones to-night, dear,” she answered.
“Do you mind if I go alone,

The acclaimed novel of the same name by author and illustrator Roberta Levy, is a story of a young woman who has been swept away by the world of her own imagination. She is unable to find her way back to the world she was born in. Her life is shaped by the fact that she is surrounded by her family, and her life is not easy.

The Worm Ouroboros weaves strands from Norse saga, Greek myth, and Elizabethan drama together with magical adventure to produce one of the most eccentric masterpieces of English literature. Anticipating J. R. R. Tolkien by a few decades, E. R. Eddison imagined an Other World full of wonders and a huge cast of warriors, witches, and monsters. He also invented one of the truly distinctive styles in English prose. Its language is densely ornamented and deliberately archaic, but also precise, vigorous, and flexible enough to convey wistful tenderness one minute and violent action the next. In the


Mr. Britling Sees it Through

with things American than he had ever dared to hope.
He had promised himself this visit for many years, but being of

possibilities with Mr. Britling, who lived at Matching's Easy.
Mr. Direck was a type of man not uncommon in America. He was

do not want to.
"Aye-ya!"
"Fussin' about thea."
"Mr. Robinson, 'e went to Lon', 'e did. That's 'ow 'e 'urt 'is

fut."
Mr. Direck had learnt at the main-line junction that he had to tell the guard to stop the train for

stay over the week-end.
And here they were shaking hands.
Mr. Britling did not look at all as Mr. Direck had expected him

intellectual distinction Mr. Britling was unusually short.
For there can be no denying that Mr. Britling was, in a sense,

rewarded the station-master's services.
"Ready?" asked Mr. Britling.
"That's all right sir," the station-master reverberated.
With a rather wide curve Mr. Britling steered his way out of the

or at the extremest the third time in his life.
The thing became evident when he struggled to get into the high

air, and became still.
"Do we go through these ancient gates?" asked Mr. Direck.
Mr. Britling looked over his right shoulder and considered

should have to get down and wind up the engine."
After that came a corner, the rounding of which seemed to

this question clearly, but just at the moment I forgot."
He reflected and experimented in a way that made the engine

wheel back? Then if I reverse, perhaps we'll get a move on...."
Mr. Direck descended, and there were considerable efforts.
"If you'd just grip the spokes. Yes, so.... One, Two, Three!...

us. Oh! Somebody will come all right. Won't you get up again?"
And after a reflective moment Mr. Direck resumed his seat beside

need scarcely say. And here I am—going at my own pace."
Mr. Direck glanced for a moment at the pretty disorder of the

This rally of Mr. Direck's mind was suddenly interrupted.
Mr. Britling stood up, and putting both hands to the sides of

got to fetch you. And, I say! is it true?

The story of a young man who is a snobby, sloppy, and apathetic. He is the only one who can be a good friend to his wife, and the only person who can help him.

H.G. Wells' attempt to make sense of World War I. It begins with a lighthearted account of an American visiting England for the first time, but the outbreak of war changes everything. Day by day and month by month, Wells chronicles the unfolding events and public reaction as witnessed by the inhabitants of one house in rural Essex. Each of the characters tries in a different way to keep their bearings in a world suddenly changed beyond recognition. This book was published in 1916 while the war was still in progress, so no clear resolution was possible. Wells did not know how long the war would


The Madam

perfection—the scene prepared, waiting only the actors in it.
It is curious to look into a centre of life like this, all ready for the

happiness, the nucleus of other happy homes to come?
A pause: the fire only crackling now and then, a little burst of flame

tremor and hesitation, “will be very angry if she finds you here.”
“I wish, Miss Rosalind, you’d have a little more respect for yourself.

should have been lady of everything—”
“Russell, I wish you would not be such a fool! My poor little mother

“and will, till I die, or till one of us—”
“Go up-stairs,” said Rosalind, peremptorily, “at once! What have you to

truth; only I am the one that knows the best.”
Rosalind’s white figure flew across the faint light. She grasped the

world outside and look for the fugitive there.
Rosalind had resisted the impulse to do so for many an{6} evening. She had

dining-room, every variation in which kept her in alarm.
But it was in vain she gazed; nothing crossed the park except the sweep

yet for the moment trust herself to speak.
CHAPTER II.
The gentlemen who came into the drawing-room at Highcourt were four in

little artifice which Uncle John perceived, but no one else.
“Now this is a strange thing,” said Mr. Trevanion, “that in{10} my own

likes to see for one’s self.”
“Then why can’t she send you to see for yourself. This is treatment I am

altogether a masculine game. Will you cut for the deal?”
But by this time Mr. Trevanion had recovered his breath. “It is what I

like a stuck pig, but speak!”
This was addressed to an unlucky footman who had come in prowling on one

voice, which went through your ears like a skewer.
While these thoughts went through young Hamerton’s mind he had gradually

black trees, where had she been?{16}
CHAPTER III.
“I married her without a penny,” Mr. Trevanion was saying. “I was a fool

condescended, Madam, to come at last.”
She was a tall woman, with a figure full of dignity and grace. If it was

something you don’t choose to

The story of a young woman who is a fugitive and a widow.

Scars might fade but the memories don't...
Three years and eleven months. That's how long Lizzie Wells was banged up inside Holloway prison for, serving time for a crime she didn't commit.
Six months. That's how long it took Lizzie to fall in love with a woman inside the prison. Scar, who might just have reason for her name.
Now Lizzie is finally free, the duo embark on a search to find those who framed Lizzie and sent her down for cold blooded murder.
THE BUSINESS MAN. THE COPPER. THE MADAM.
It's time they paid their price...


Voodoo Planet (Solar Queen, #3)

of the planet Khatka.
[Pg 2]
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Dane Thorson
He wanted to spend a short vacation on Khatka, not

the rest of his life.
Medic Tau
Was he physician or magician—or a little bit of both?
Chief Ranger Asaki
Tracking the forests had taught him that mad animals—whether

23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y.
[Pg 4]
VOODOO PLANET
Copyright ©, 1959, by Ace Books, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Printed in U. S. A.

temper. Dane had been allowed no such escape.
The Queen had a schedule for refitting to serve as a mail

supplies, and Sindbad, ship's cat, asleep in some empty cabin.
Dane jerked his tunic into place, very much on his guard

a suggestion of accent.
"I am Kort Asaki. I believe Captain Jellico expects me."
"Yes, sir!" Dane snapped to attention. So this was the

you could do to foul up concentrates in an automatic cooker.
"Company?" Tau sat beyond the cooking unit nursing a

worth visiting."
"Not on a Free Trader's pay," commented Dane.
"You can always hope to make a big strike, boy. But what

them after they landed out here."
"And Khatkans are really special?"
"Well, they have an amazing history. The colony was

dish out to a poacher they net!"
"So that rumor has spread satisfactorily!"
Coffee slopped over the brim of Tau's mug and Dane

palm, batted at it playfully with claw-sheathed paw.
"A Terran cat! It is of the lion family?"
"Far removed," Jellico supplied. "You'd have to add a

lot of bulk to Sindbad to promote him to the lion class."
"We have only the old tales." Asaki sounded almost wistful

on my desk was the final one from Combine?"
"Yes, sir. There's no hope of the Rover setting down here

howl petitions to when some darkness falls upon them?"
"Some of the magic I have seen is trickery, some of it

for which we have not yet found any logical explanations—"
"And I believe," Asaki interrupted, "it is also true that a

thing in the cramped space of the mess cabin.
"Yes, a highly developed form of it," Tau agreed.
"

The first book in the series of books by the author of "The Adventures of a Cat" (1996), "The Legend of 'Katka'" (1997), and "The Tale of _Katka_" (1998).

The story is described as a "duel of the cosmic magicians." It involves two witch doctors who conjure up ghosts and demons against each other and might appear to be fantasy. But Norton bases the wizards' magic on the use of mildly hallucinogenic drugs, psychological manipulation and latent telepathy, which place the story within the realm of science fiction.


Why We Love Music

Musical knowledge, 5; Musical feeling, 5; Musical action, 6; Music as play, 7; Musical imagination, 8; Who loves music?, 8.

From smile to music, 12; Music in play, 14; Environment, 15; Music and speech, 16; Musical talent, 17; Musical education, 18.

A broadened conception of music, 22; The analysis of talent, 23; Group instruction, 24; Formal lessons delayed, 25; A sympathetic listener, 26; Music lovers vs. virtuosi, 27.

The emotional age, 29; The age of serious play, 30; The age of decision and eliminations, 30; The educational age, 30; The age of leisure, 32.

Music, an academic subject, 34; Orientation in the grades, 35; Group activities in voice and instrument, 35; Contests, 36; The hearing of music, 37.

give an equivalent, indeed a more or less unconditional surrender.
In all efforts to describe and explain, we reach out for specific

to the positive side of musical response, the love of music.
THE MUSICAL MEDIUM
Organic response. Man is born with a psychophysical organism

which played a large role in his human economy and development.
Music proper. Sounds may be woven into beautiful patterns.

some form of dreamlike realization of the subjects of his longings.
THE MUSICAL MOTIVES
What we are called upon to explain then in the attraction for

the glimpse into the infinite which is love of the object pursued.
The role of intelligence in music is well illustrated in recent

seeks to convey, a state of forgetfulness of self and concrete facts.
Thus music is a language of emotion. Through it the composer

the spirit of adventure, lies within the power of music.
Who loves music? The love of music is not universal. Deep,

who disavow it are merely dying with all their music in them.
9For such failures and inadequacies there are many possible

adequately the nature of the child mind and the nature of music.
From smile to music. All mental development begins with

well-being, and the meaning of this puckering is thus enriched.
It gradually radiates fro

The symphony of the saxophone is a musical instrument that is used to play music. It is characterized by its spherical, curved, and curved movements.

Did you know that . . .
carrying a musical instrument makes you more attractive?
music can cure insomnia?
music can change the taste of wine?
the Mozart effect has nothing to do with Mozart?
Barry Manilow songs can be used for crowd control?
Why does music affect you so profoundly? It impacts the way you think, talk, feel, behave and even spend money. With his conversational style, humour, and endless knowledge, scientist and musician John Powell showcases fascinating studies - for example that shoppers spend more money in stores that play classical music and, even more astounding, they are mo


Church History: A Crash Course for the Curious

The English reader is here presented with a translation of the ninth edition of a work which first appeared in 1849, and has obtained a most distinguished place, it might be said almost a monopoly, as a text-book of Church History in the German Universities. Since 1850, when the second edition was issued, an English translation of which has been widely used in Britain and America, Dr. Kurtz has given great attention to the improvement of his book. The increase of size has not been caused by wordy amplification, but by an urgent necessity felt by the author as he used the vast materials that recent years have spread out before the historical student. In 1870 Dr. Kurtz retired from his professorship, and has conscientiously devoted himself to bring up each successive edition of his text-book to the point reached by the very latest scholarship of his own and other lands. In his Preface to the ninth edition of 1885 he claims to have made very special improvements on the presentation of the history of the first three centuries, where ample use is made of the brilliant researches of Harnack and other distinguished scholars of the day.

The first English volume is a reproduction without retrenchment of the original; but in the second volume an endeavour has been made to render the text-book more convenient and serviceable to British and American students by slightly abridging some of those paragraphs which give minute details of the Reformation work in various German provinces. But even there care has been taken not to omit any fact of interest or importance. No pains have been spared to give the English edition a form that may entitle it to occupy that front rank among students’ text-books of Church History which the original undoubtedly holds in Germany.

While the translator was working from the ninth edition of 1885, a tenth edition had appeared during 1887, to which unfortunately his attention was not called until quite recently. The principal additions and alteration

The first edition of the text-book of Church History in the German Universities is a translation of the ninth edition of 1885, and it is based on the work of Dr. Kurtz, who was a scholar of the Reformation.

In this concise, accessible guide, author Christopher Catherwood takes his readers through the history of the faith, educating them about the uniqueness of Christianity from its birth to the diverse, global Evangelical Church we know today. Church Historyis the perfect place to start for anyone who wants to know where to begin this quest for knowledge.
Enjoy discovering more about the lives of men and women from various times and places, not only to better understand the church, but also to know how to live wisely in this age. These are some of the many reasons why history is so important.
Fro


The Bears of Blue River

“When the bear got within a few feet of Balser ... the boy grew desperate with fear, and struck at the beast with the only weapon he had—his string of fish”
25

“Balser turned in time to see a great, lank, gray wolf emerge from the water, carrying a gander by the neck”
109

“The boys tied together the legs of the old wolves and swung them over the pole ... and started home leading the pups”
127

“Liney thrust the burning torch into the bear’s face and held it there despite its rage and growls”
facing 168

“WHEN THE BEAR GOT WITHIN A FEW FEET OF BALSER ... THE BOY GREW DESPERATE WITH FEAR, AND STRUCK AT THE BEAST WITH THE ONLY WEAPON HE HAD—HIS STRING OF FISH.”

and whined something in a low voice.
“What does he say, Jim?” asked Balser.
“He says for Tom not to tell you anything

pointing as the cub had indicated.
“How far is it?” asked Balser.
Jerry lay down and rolled over twice.
“Two hours’ walk,” said Jim.
“How shall I find the place?” asked

“BALSER TURNED IN TIME TO SEE A GREAT, LANK, GRAY WOLF EMERGE FROM THE WATER, CARRYING A GANDER BY THE NECK.”

“THE BOYS TIED TOGETHER THE LEGS OF THE OLD WOLVES AND SWUNG THEM OVER THE POLE ... AND STARTED HOME LEADING THE PUPS.”

house?”
182“You bet I stayed in,” said Jim.
“And so did I,” said Tom.
No one paid any attention to what Jim

and it has strange words engraved upon it.”
Balser was alive with interest.
“Do you promise never to tell any one

forced him to divulge.
“What is it? Quick, quick, Liney!”
“You’ll never tell?”
“No, cross my—”
“Well, I’ll tell you. I’ve a thing at home

little valley that led down to the water’s edge.
“There’s our home,” said Balser.
The sycamore was hollow, and at its roots

of his castle and devour the intruders.
“What will you bet?” said Tom.
“I didn’t say I would bet anything. I

By CHARLES MAJOR
Author of “When Knighthood Was in Flower,” etc.
With eight full-page illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy
Cloth       12mo       $1.50

by the spirit and freshness

The story of a young boy who is a wolf and a bear, and whose only weapon is his string of fish.

The Bears of Blue River describes the adventures of a young boy growing up in early nineteenth-century rural Indiana. Little Balser lives with his parents, a younger brother, and a baby sister in a cozy log cabin on the bank of the Big Blue River. Although only thirteen or fourteen years old, he is quite familiar with the dangers and rigors of frontier life. As the story unfolds, the boy becomes lost in the forest, encounters the fierce one-eared bear, and is nearly caught by a bear as he dozes next to what he thinks is a bearskin. This is a book for children or adults who love nature and tale


Fabre's Book of Insects

Suddenly, at my feet, a lovely bird flew out from its [3]hiding-place under a big stone. In a moment I had found the nest, which was made of

Meanwhile the mother-bird was flying about uneasily from stone to stone, crying ”Tack! Tack!” in a voice of the greatest anxiety. I was too small to understand what she was suffering.

what does Saxicola mean?” Years later I learnt that Saxicola means an inhabitant of the rocks. My bird with the blue eggs was a Stone-chat.

Many a time I returned to that delightful spinney, [5]and learnt my first lessons in mushroom-lore in the company of the Crows. My collections,

It has always been my great desire to have a laboratory [6]in the open fields—not an easy thing to obtain when one lives in a state of constant

of a little village. It was a harmas, which is the name we give in this part of Provence to an untilled, pebbly expanse

My own particular harmas, however, had a small quantity of red earth mixed with the stones, and had been roughly

vegetation had been driven out by the three-pronged fork. There [7]was no thyme left, nor lavender, nor a single clump of the dwarf oak. As thyme and

find specimens of their masonry on the stones in the harmas. Next comes a kind of Wild Bee who stacks her cells in the winding staircase of an

While the walls of my harmas were being built some great heaps of stones and mounds of sand were scattered here

a deafening orchestra. And boldest [10]of all, the Wasp has taken possession of the house itself. On my doorway lives the

It is not at all nice food. For the work of this Beetle [12]is to scour the filth from the surface of the soil. The ball he rolls so carefully

begins the journey. He clasps the ball with his long hind-legs and walks with [13]his fore-legs, moving backwards with his head down and his hind-quarters in the air.

His aid seems to be accepted [14]willingly. But the new-comer is not really a partner: he is a robber. To make one’s

Scarab shuts himself in by stopping up the ent

The re-issue of the first edition of the novel, "The Wasp" is a reprint of the original novel.

Hailed by Darwin as "The Homer of Insects," famed French entomologist Jean Henri Fabre (1823-1915) devoted hours of rapt attention to insects while they hunted, built nests, and fed their families. Working in Provence, in barren, sun-scorched fields inhabited by countless wasps and bees, he observed their intricate and fascinating world, recounting their activities in simple, beautifully written essays.
This volume, based on translations of Fabre's Souvenirs Entomologiques,blends folklore and mythology with factual explanation. Fabre's absorbing account of the scarab beetle's existence, for ex


The Hoosier Schoolmaster: A Story of Backwoods Life in Indiana

PREFACE TO THE LIBRARY EDITION.
BEING THE HISTORY OF A STORY.
"THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-MASTER" was written and printed in the

however, that the original multiplicand had been rather small.
Papers in Canada and in some of the other English colonies

college. I here do public penance for my culpable indiscretion.
"Jeems Phillips," name and all, is a real person whom at the

PART OF THE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
I may as well confess, what it would be affectation to conceal,

world to which Cooper's lively imagination had given birth.
I had some anxiety lest Western readers should take offence at

considered a member of the Church of the Best Licks, however.
It has been in my mind to append some remarks, philological and

doors, sonny, neck and heels, afore Christmas."
The young man, who had walked ten miles to get the school in

savages in spite of themselves dashed his ardor.
He had walked right to where Jack Means was at work shaving

fear, he sat down on a wheelbarrow.
"You, Bull!" said the old man to the dog, which was showing more

go," said the older son to Ralph, by way of comfort.
It was well for Ralph that he began to "board roun'" by stopping

feller."
"'Nough said[3]," was Bill's reply.
"You durn't[4] do it," said Bud.
"I don't take no sech a dare[5]," returned Bill, and walked down to the gate, by

like to take a coon hunt nor nothin', would you?"
"Why, yes," said Ralph, "there's nothing I should like better,

if I could only be sure Bull wouldn't mistake me for the coon."
And so, as a matter of policy, Ralph dragged his tired legs

comment, "Ef Bull once takes a holt, heaven and yarth[8] can't make him let go."
But as they walked home, Bud carrying the raccoon by the tail,

him more since he had climbed that tree.
"Purty peart kind of a master," remarked the old man to Bud,

heard the conversation through the thin partition.
Ralph woke delighted to find it raining. He did not want to hunt

best day I ever seed!" Bill could pay no higher

The first book in the series of books by the author, "The Book of the Dead" is a collection of short stories and essays by the writer. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author.

A novel by the American author, historian and Methodist Minister whose tales (especially the Hoosier series) were very popular in their time.


The Quadroon

Chapter Twenty.
My Journal.
I varied the monotony of my invalid existence by keeping a journal.
The journal of a sick chamber must naturally be barren of incident. Mine was a diary of reflections rather than acts. I transcribe a few passages from it—not on account of any remarkable interest which they possess—but because, dotted down at the time, they represent more faithfully some of the thoughts and incidents that occurred to me during the remainder of my stay on the plantation Besançon.

August 2nd.—I hear of Gayarre again. He has been to the house, and made a longer stay with Mademoiselle than usual. What can he have to do with her? Can his society be agreeable to her? Surely that is impossible! And yet such frequent visits—such long conferences! If she marry such a man as this I pity her, poor victim!—for victim will she be. He must have some power over her to act as he is doing. He seems master of the plantation, says Scipio, and issues his orders to every one with the air of its owner. All fear him and his “nigger-driver,” as the ruffian Larkin is called. The latter is more feared by Scipio, who has noticed some further rude conduct on the part of the overseer towards “him leettle Chloe.” Poor fellow! he is greatly distressed; and no wonder, when even the law does not allow him to protect the honour of his own child!
I have promised to speak to Mademoiselle about the affair; but I fear, from what reaches my ears, that she is almost as powerless as Scipio himself!

August 3rd.—To-day, for the first time, I am able to go out of my room. I have taken a walk through the shrubbery and garden. I encountered Aurore among the orange-trees, gathering the golden fruit; but she was accompanied by little Chloe, who held the basket. What would I not have given to have found her alone! A word or two only was I able to exchange with her, and she was gone.
She expressed her pleasure at seeing me able to be abroad. She seemed pleased; I fancied she felt so, I never saw h

The first book in the series of books by the author, "The Countess of the Orange-trees" is a collection of short stories written by the writer. It is based on the novel of the same name by the same author.

According to Wikipedia: "Thomas Mayne Reid (April 4, 1818 - October 22, 1883), was an Irish-American novelist. "Captain" Reid wrote many adventure novels akin to those written by Frederick Marryat and Robert Louis Stevenson. He was a great admirer of Lord Byron. These novels contain action that takes place primarily in untamed settings: the American West, Mexico, South Africa, the Himalayas, and Jamaica."


Pictures Don't Lie

the biggest celebrities ever to appear in headlines.
"No, nothing directly."
"Any ideas or deductions?" Herald persisted.
"Their world must be Earth-like to them," the weary-looking young man

his forehead with sweat. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything."
"Earth-like," muttered a reporter, writing it down as if he had noticed

and received a quick glance in exchange.
The Herald asked Nathen, "You think they are dangerous, then?"
It was the kind of question, assuming much, which usually broke

positive on the opposite tack.
A fleeting smile touched Nathen's lips. "Those I know are."
There was no lead in this direction, and they had to get the basic

by instinct to telling anything to the public.
Nathen glanced at him doubtfully. "My job is radio decoder for the

patterns."
The officer cleared his throat, but said nothing.
The reporters smiled, noting that down.
Security regulations had changed since arms inspection had been

came to Newton when he saw the apple fall.
"I decided it wasn't natural. I tried decoding it."
Hurriedly he tried to explain it away and make it seem obvious. "You

screech before."
"You mean they broadcast at us in code?" asked the News.
"It's not exactly code. All you need to do is record it and slow it

tremendously, so we wouldn't pick up more than a bip as it passes."
"How do you account for the number of squawks coming in?" the Times

private question; he spoke impulsively from interest and excitement.
The radio decoder grinned, the lines of strain vanishing from his face

at each other over the radio. Maybe the human type is standard model."
"It would take something like that," the Times agreed. They smiled at

equipment with "Radio Lab, U.S. Property" stenciled on it.
"I recorded a couple of package screeches from Sagittarius and began

band-spread of the squawks had suggested color TV from the beginning."
He walked over and touched the set. The speaker bipped slightly and

spaceship which now circled the atmosphe

The squawks were a remark on the radio decoder's face, and the sneezing of the fetus was a sign of the time.

The aliens were friendly. There was no doubt about that, communication via radio and video made that clear. The decision was made to direct the aliens to a landing spot on Earth. During the landing something goes terrible wrong and the aliens crash land in a swamp and are attacked by hostile creatures. Humanity rushes to find the aliens before it's too late, but will they be in time?