BENITO CERENOby Herman MelvilleIN THE year 1799, Captain Amasa Delano, of Duxbury, in Massachusetts, commanding a large sealer and general trader, lay at anchor, with a valuable cargo, in the harbour of St. Maria- a small, desert, uninhabited island towards the southern extremity of the long coast of Chili. There he had touched for water. On the second day, not long after dawn, while lying in his berth, his mate came below, informing him that a strange sail was coming into the bay. Ships were then not so plenty in those waters as now. He rose, dressed, and went on deck. The morning wa　

Deruesby Alexandre Dumas, PereOne September afternoon in 1751, towards half-past five, about a score of small boys, chattering, pushing, and tumbling over one another like a covey of partridges, issued from one of the religious schools of Chartres. The joy of the little troop just escaped from a long and wearisome captivity was doubly great: a slight accident to one of the teachers had caused the class to be dismissed half an hour earlier than usual, and in consequence of the extra work thrown on the teaching staff the brother whose duty it was to see all the scholars safe home was compelled　

The Wandering Jew, Volume 9by Eugene SueBOOK IX.XV. The Constant WandererXVI. The LuncheonXVII. Rendering the AccountXVIII. The Square of Notre DameXIX. The Cholera MasqueradeXX. The DefianceXXI. Brandy to the RescueXXII. MemoriesXXIII. The PoisonerXXIV. CathedralXXV. The MurderersXXVI. The PatientXXVII. The LureXXVIII. Good NewsXXIX. The OperationXXX. The TortureXXXI. Vice and VirtueXXXII. SuicideCHAPTER XV.THE CONSTANT WANDERER....　

The Heritage of the Siouxby B.M. BowerI WHEN GREEN GRASS COMESII THE DAUGHTER OF A CHIEFIII TO THE VICTORS THE SPOILSIV LOVE WORDS FOR ANNIEV FOR THE GOOD OF THE COMPANYVI "I GO WHERE WAGALEXA CONKA SAY"VII ADVENTURE COMES SMILINGVIII THE SONG OF THE OMAHAIX RIDERS IN THE BACKGROUNDX DEPUTIES ALLXI ALL THIS WAR-TALK ABOUT INJUNSXII THE WILD-GOOSE CHASEXIII SET AFOOTXIV ONE PUT OVER ON THE BUNCHXV "NOW, DANG IT, RIDE!"XVI ANNIE-MANY-PONIES WAITSXVII APPLEHEAD SHOWS THE STUFF HE IS MADE OF...　

ROUND THE MOONby JULES VERNEA SEQUEL TOFROM THE EARTH TO THE MOONPRELIMINARY CHAPTERTHE FIRST PART OF THIS WORK, AND SERVING AS A PREFACE TO THE SECONDDuring the year 186-, the whole world was greatly excited by ascientific experiment unprecedented in the annals of science.The members of the Gun Club, a circle of artillerymen formed atBaltimore after the American war, conceived the idea ofputting themselves in communication with the moon! yes, withthe moon by sending to her a projectile. Their president,Barbicane, the promoter of the enterprise, having consulted the...　

THE SON OF THE WOLF.MAN RARELY PLACES A PROPER valuation upon his womankind, at leastnot until deprived of them. He has no conception of the subtleatmosphere exhaled by the sex feminine, so long as he bathes in it;but let it be withdrawn, and an ever-growing void begins to manifestitself in his existence, and he becomes hungry, in a vague sort ofway, for a something so indefinite that he cannot characterize it.If his comrades have no more experience than himself, they willshake their heads dubiously and dose him with strong physic. But the...　

　On a ridge above Texas Flat upon a rock shaped like flame, a hand moved upon the lava. The hand moved and then was still. In all that vast beige-gray silence there was no other movement and no sound.　A buzzard swinging in lazy circles above the serrated ridge had glimpsed that moving hand. Swinging lower, he saw a man who lay among the rocks atop the ridge. He was a long-bodied man in worn boots and jeans, a man with wide shoulders and a lean tough face.　It was the face of a hunter but now of a man hunted. A man who lay with his rifle beside him and who wore a belted gun; but the man still l　

　On July 16, in the aching torpid heat of the South Florida summer, Terry Whelper stood at the Avis counter at Miami International Airport and rented a bright red Chrysler LeBaron convertible. He had originally signed up for a Dodge Colt, a sensible low-mileage pact, but his wife had told him go on, be sporty for once in your life. So Terry Whelper got the red LeBaron plus the extra collision coverage, in anticipation of Miami drivers. Into the convertible he inserted the family-his wife Gerri, his son Jason, his daughter Jennifer-and bravely set out for the turnpike.　The children, who liked 　

　　　　Dusk was beginning to creep down from the mountains when the Witchfinder rode into Craiglowrie. His hunched position in the saddle of the black mare disguised his true height, yet all the same he was tall and terrible, the features beneath the dark broad-brimmed hat seemed like those of a sun-bleached skull from a distance. The grimace that revealed black and broken teeth; the eyes that glowed with the fire of a personal hatred, and seemed to search out each and every one of the peasants who trembled and watched behind the windows of their tumbledown bothies.　　　　They remembered the last t　

　　I am a vampire. Blood does not bother me. I like blood. Even seeing my own blood does not frighten me. But what my blood can do to others-to the whole world for that matter-terrifies me. Once God made me take a vow to create no more vampires. Once I believed in God. But my belief, like my vow, has been shattered too many times in my long life. I am Alisa Perne, the now-forgotten Sita, child of a demon. I am the oldest living creature on earth.　　I awake in a living room smelling of death. I watch as my blood trickles through a thin plastic tube into the arm of Special Agent Joel Drake, FBI. 　

Early Kings of Norwayby Thomas CarlyleThe Icelanders, in their long winter, had a great habit of writing; and were, and still are, excellent in penmanship, says Dahlmann. It is to this fact, that any little history there is of the Norse Kings and their old tragedies, crimes and heroisms, is almost all due. The Icelanders, it seems, not only made beautiful letters on their paper or parchment, but were laudably observant and desirous of accuracy; and have left us such a collection of narratives (_Sagas_, literally "Says") as, for quantity and quality, is unexampled among rude nations. Snorro　

MARCELLUS268?-208 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenTHEY say that Marcus Claudius, who was five times consul of theRomans, was the son of Marcus; and that he was the first of his familycalled Marcellus; that is, martial, as Posidonius affirms. He was,indeed, by long experience, skilful in the art of war, of a strongbody, valiant of hand, and by natural inclinations addicted to war.This high temper and heat he showed conspicuously in battle; in...　

THE CONEThe night was hot and overcast, the sky red, rimmed with thelingering sunset of mid-summer. They sat at the open window,trying to fancy the air was fresher there. The trees and shrubs ofthe garden stood stiff and dark; beyond in the roadway a gas-lamp burnt, bright orange against the hazy blue of the evening.Farther were the three lights of the railway signal against thelowering sky. The man and woman spoke to one another in low tones."He does not suspect?" said the man, a little nervously."Not he," she said peevishly, as though that too irritated...　

Moral Emblemsby Robert Louis StevensonContentsNOT I, AND OTHER POEMSI. Some like drinkII. Here, perfect to a wishIII. As seamen on the seasIV. The pamphlet here presentedMORAL EMBLEMS: A COLLECTION OF CUTS AND VERSESI. See how the children in the printII. Reader, your soul upraise to seeIII. A PEAK IN DARIEN - Broad-gazing on untrodden landsIV. See in the print how, moved by whimV. Mark, printed on the opposing pageMORAL EMBLEMS: A SECOND COLLECTION OF CUTS AND VERSESI. With storms a-weather, rocks-a-lee...　

In the Carquinez Woodsby Bret HarteCHAPTER I.The sun was going down on the Carquinez Woods. The few shafts ofsunlight that had pierced their pillared gloom were lost inunfathomable depths, or splintered their ineffectual lances onthe enormous trunks of the redwoods. For a time the dull red oftheir vast columns, and the dull red of their cast-off bark whichmatted the echoless aisles, still seemed to hold a faint glow ofthe dying day. But even this soon passed. Light and color fledupwards. The dark interlaced treetops, that had all day made animpenetrable shade, broke into fire here and th　

Hieroby XenophonTranslation by H. G. DakynsXenophon the Athenian was born 431 B.C. He was apupil of Socrates. He marched with the Spartans,and was exiled from Athens. Sparta gave him landand property in Scillus, where he lived for manyyears before having to move once more, to settlein Corinth. He died in 354 B.C.The Hiero is an imaginary dialogue, c. 474 B.C.,between Simonides of Ceos, the poet; and Hieron,of Syracuse and Gela, the despot....