The Day of the Confederacy, A Chronicle of the Embattled Southby Nathaniel W. StephensonCONTENTSI. THE SECESSION MOVEMENTII. THE DAVIS GOVERNMENTIII. THE FALL OF KING COTTONIV. THE REACTION AGAINST RICHMONDV. THE CRITICAL YEARVI. LIFE IN THE CONFEDERACYVII. THE TURNING OF THE TIDEVIII. A GAME OF CHANCEIX. DESPERATE REMEDIES X. DISINTEGRATIONXI. AN ATTEMPTED REVOLUTIONXII. THE LAST WORDBIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTETHE DAY OF THE CONFEDERACYChapter I. The Secession MovementThe secession movement had three distinct stages. The first,...　

The Moon and SixpenceThe Moon and Sixpenceby W. Somerset MaughamAuthor of "Of Human Bondage"1- Page 2-The Moon and SixpenceChapter II confess that when first I made acquaintance with Charles StricklandI never for a moment discerned that there was in him anything out of theordinary. Yet now few will be found to deny his greatness. I do not...　

The Spirit of Place and Other EssaysThe Spirit of Place andOther Essaysby Alice Meynell1- Page 2-The Spirit of Place and Other EssaysTHE SPIRIT OF PLACEWith mimicry, with praises, with echoes, or with answers, the poetshave all but outsung the bells. The inarticulate bell has found too muchinterpretation, too many rhymes professing to close with her inaccessible...　

NICIAS?-413 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenCRASSUS, in my opinion, may most properly be set against Nicias, andthe Parthian disaster compared with that in Sicily. But here it willbe well for me to entreat the reader, in all courtesy, not to thinkthat I contend with Thucydides in matters so pathetically, vividly,and eloquently, beyond all imitation, and even beyond himself,expressed by him; nor to believe me guilty of the like folly with...　

　　Walking up the wall had not been easy. But walking across the ceiling was turning out to be pletely impossible. Until I realized that I was going about it the wrong way. It seemed obvious when I thought about it. When I held onto the ceiling with my hands I could not move my feet. So I switched off the molebind gloves and swung down, hanging only from the soles of my boots. The blood rushed to my head-as well it might bringing with it a surge of nausea and a sensation of great unease.　What was I doing here, hanging upside down from the ceiling of the Mint, watching the machine below stamp o　

　　The eyes behind the wide black rubber goggles were cold as flint. In the howling speed-turmoil of a BSA M20 doing seventy, they were the only quiet things in the hurtling flesh and metal. Protected by the glass of the goggles, they stared fixedly ahead from just above the centre of the handlebars, and their dark unwavering focus was that of gun muzzles. Below the goggles, the wind had got into the face through the mouth and had wrenched the lips back into a square grin that showed big tombstone teeth and strips of whitish gum. On both sides of the grin the cheeks had been blown out by the w　

　The red sun balances on the highest ramparts of the mountains, and in its waning light, the foothills appear to be ablaze. A cool breeze blows down out of the sun and fans through the tall dry grass, which streams like waves of golden fire along the slopes toward the rich and shadowed valley.　In the knee-high grass, he stands with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, studying the vineyards below. The vines were pruned during the winter. The new growing season has just begun. The colorful wild mustard that flourished between the rows during the colder months has been chopped back and　

　　　　The wind blew hard and joggled the water of the ocean, sending ripples across its surface.Then the wind pushed the edges of the ripples until they became waves, and shoved the waves around until they became billows.The billows rolled dreadfully high: higher even than the tops of houses.Some of them, indeed, rolled as high as the tops of tall trees, and seemed like mountains; and the gulfs between the great billows were like deep valleys.　　All this mad dashing and splashing of the waters of the big ocean, which the mischievous wind caused without any good reason whatever, resulted in a ter　

　　If anything exists, it is inprehensible.　　If anything was prehensible,　　it would be inmunicable.　　　　- Gorgias　　　　　　PART ONENOTHING EXISTS　　　　　　1　　　　Two hours ago the Railway Expressman delivered the crated, newly published International Encyclopedia of Fine Arts to my Palm Beach apartment. I signed for the set, turned the thermostat of the air-conditioner up three degrees, found a clawhammer in the kitchen, and broke open the crate. Twenty-four beautiful buckram-bound volumes, eggshell paper, decide edged. Six laborious years in preparation, more than twenty-five hundred illustrations- 436 　

Some Short Christmas StoriesSome Short ChristmasStoriesby Charles Dickens1- Page 2-Some Short Christmas StoriesA CHRISTMAS TREEI have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of childrenassembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. The tree wasplanted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high above their...　

Voyage of The Paper Canoeby N. H. BishopA GEOGRAPHICAL JOURNEY OF 2500 MILES FROM QUEBEC TO THE GULF OF MEXICO, DURING THE YEARS 1874-5.BY NATHANIEL H. BISHOP,AUTHOR OF "ONE THOUSAND MILES WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA" AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE BOSTON SOCIETY OF NATURAL HISTORY AND OF THE NEW YORK ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.BOSTON: LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. NEW YORK: CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 1878.TO THE SUPERINTENDENT. ASSISTANTS, AIDS, AND ALL EMPLOYEES OF THE UNITED STATES COAST SURVEY BUREAU, THE "VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE" IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,AS A SLIGHT EVIDENCE OF THE APPRECIATION 　

WHY GO TO COLLEGE?WHY GO TOCOLLEGE?ALICE FREEMAN PALMERFormerly President of Wellesley College1- Page 2-WHY GO TO COLLEGE?To a largely increasing number of young girls college doors areopening every year. Every year adds to the number of men who feel as afriend of mine, a successful lawyer in a great city, felt when in talking ofthe future of his four little children he said, "For the two boys it is not so...　

　　ACKNOWLEDGMENTS　A debt of gratitude to Emily Bestler, Jason Kaufman, Ben Kaplan, and everyone at Pocket Books for their belief in this project.　To my friend and agent, Jake Elwell, for his enthusiasm and unflagging effort.　To the legendary George Wieser, for convincing me to write novels.　To my dear friend Irv Sittler, for facilitating my audience with the Pope, secreting me into parts of Vatican City few ever see, and making my time in Rome unforgettable.　To one of the most ingenious and gifted artists alive, John Langdon, who rose brilliantly to my impossible challenge and created the amb　

　　　　The Treloar Building was, and is, on Olive Street, near Sixth, on the west side. The sidewalk in front of it had been built of black and white rubber blocks. They were taking them up now to give to the government, and a hatless pale man with a face like a building superintendent was watching the work and looking as if it was breaking his heart.　　I went past him through an arcade of specialty shops into a vast black and gold lobby. The Gillerlain pany was on the seventh floor, in front, behind swinging double plate glass doors bound in platinum. Their reception room had Chinese rugs, dull 　

　　It was the same old rigmarole. Sometimes I found it amusing; sometimes it only bored me; sometimes it gave me a pronounced pain, especially when I had had more of Wolfe than was good for either of us.　　This time it was fairly funny at first, but it developed along regrettable lines. Mr. Jasper Pine, president of Naylor-Kerr, Inc., 914 William Street, down where a thirty-story building is a shanty, wanted Nero Wolfe to e to see him about something. I explained patiently, all about Wolfe being too lazy, too big and fat, and too much of a genius, to let himself be evoked. When Mr. Pine phoned 　

　　 HIS NAME WAS THORNE. In the ancient language of the runes, it had been longer-Thornevald. But when he became a blood drinker, his name had been changed to Thorne. And Thorne he remained now, centuries later, as he lay in his cave in the ice, dreaming.　 When he had first e to the frozen land, he had hoped he would sleep eternally. But now and then the thirst for blood awakened him and using the Cloud Gift, he rose into the air, and went in search of the Snow Hunters.　 He fed off them, careful never to take too much blood from any one so that none died on account of him. And when he neede