The Trees of Prideby G.K. ChestertonTHE TREES OF PRIDE:I. THE TALE OF THE PEACOCK TREESII. THE WAGER OF SQUIRE VANEIII. THE MYSTERY OF THE WELLIV. THE CHASE AFTER THE TRUTHTHE TREES OF PRIDEI. THE TALE OF THE PEACOCK TREESSquire Vane was an elderly schoolboy of English education and Irish extraction. His English education, at one of the great public schools, had preserved his intellect perfectly and permanently at the stage of boyhood. But his Irish extraction subconsciously upset in him the proper solemnity of an old boy, and sometimes gave him back the brighter outlook of a naughty boy. H　

Monsieur BeaucaireMonsieur Beaucaireby Booth Tarkington1- Page 2-Monsieur BeaucaireChapter OneThe young Frenchman did very well what he had planned to do.His guess that the Duke would cheat proved good. As the unshod half-dozen figures that had been standing noiselessly in the entryway stolesoftly into the shadows of the chamber, he leaned across the table and...　

　　"Reptiles are abhorrent because of their cold body, pale color, cartilaginous skeleton, filthy skin, fierce aspect, calculating eye, offensive smell, harsh voice, squalid habitation, and terrible venom; wherefore their Creator has not exerted his powers to make many of them."　　LINNAEUS, 1797　　"You cannot recall a new form of life."　　ERWIN CHARGAFF, 1972　　Introduction　"The InGen Incident"The late twentieth century has witnessed a scientific gold rush of astonishing proportions: the headlong and furious haste to mercialize genetic engineering. This enterprise has proceeded so rapidly-with so 　

　BY THE TIME they have finished this book, many readers will be uneasy, frightened, perhaps even horrified. Once entertained, however, they will be tempted to dismiss Night Chills as quickly as they might a novel about demonic possession or reincarnation. Although this story is intended primarily to be a "good read," I cannot stress strongly enough that the basic subject matter is more than merely a fantasy of mine; it is a reality and already a major influence on all our lives.　Subliminal and subaudial advertising, carefully planned manipulation of our subconscious minds, became a serious th　

　　This darkness troubles me. I yearn for the light.　　This silence is so deep. I long for voices, the drumming of rain, the whistle of wind, music.　　Why are you being so cruel to me? Let me see. Let me hear. Let me live. I beg of you.　　I am so lonely in this bottomless darkness.　　So lonely.　　Lost.　　You think I have no heart. But if I have no heart, what is this ache? What is this anguish? If I have no heart, what is it that threatens to break inside me?　　This darkness is haunted. I am afraid here. I am lost and afraid here.　　Have you no passion?　　I only wanted to be like you. To walk in the su　

Robert Falconerby George MacDonaldTOTHE MEMORYOF THE MAN WHOSTANDS HIGHEST IN THE ORATORYOF MY MEMORY,ALEXANDER JOHN SCOTT,I, DARING, PRESUME TO DEDICATE THIS BOOK.PART I.HIS BOYHOOD.CHAPTER I.A RECOLLECTION.Robert Falconer, school-boy, aged fourteen, thought he had neverseen his father; that is, thought he had no recollection of havingever seen him. But the moment when my story begins, he had begun todoubt whether his belief in the matter was correct. And, as he went...　

The Lumley Autographby Susan Fenimore Cooper[Not long since an American author received an application from aGerman correspondent for "a few Autographs"the number of namesapplied for amounting to more than a hundred, and covering severalsheets of foolscap. A few years since an Englishman of literary notesent his Album to a distinguished poet in Paris for his contribution,when the volume was actually stolen from a room where every otherarticle was left untouched; showing that Autographs were morevaluable in the eyes of the thief than any other property. Amused...　

Lavengro, The Scholar, The Gypsy, The Priestby George BorrowPREFACEIN the following pages I have endeavoured to describe a dream,partly of study, partly of adventure, in which will be foundcopious notices of books, and many descriptions of life andmanners, some in a very unusual form.The scenes of action lie in the British Islands; - pray be notdispleased, gentle reader, if perchance thou hast imagined that Iwas about to conduct thee to distant lands, and didst promisethyself much instruction and entertainment from what I might tell...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE UGLY DUCKLINGby Hans Christian AndersenIT was lovely summer weather in the country, and the goldencorn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows lookedbeautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered inthe Egyptian language, which he had learnt from his mother. Thecorn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midstof which were deep pools. It was, indeed, delightful to walk aboutin the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house...　

A Ward of the Golden Gateby Bret HartePROLOGUE.In San Francisco the "rainy season" had been making itself areality to the wondering Eastern immigrant. There were short daysof drifting clouds and flying sunshine, and long succeeding nightsof incessant downpour, when the rain rattled on the thin shinglesor drummed on the resounding zinc of pioneer roofs. The shiftingsand-dunes on the outskirts were beaten motionless and sodden bythe onslaught of consecutive storms; the southeast trades broughtthe saline breath of the outlying Pacific even to the busy haunts...　

THE DEATH OF JEANThe death of Jean Clemens occurred early in the morning ofDecember 24, 1909. Mr. Clemens was in great stress of mind whenI first saw him, but a few hours later I found him writingsteadily."I am setting it down," he said, "everything. It is arelief to me to write it. It furnishes me an excuse forthinking." At intervals during that day and the next I lookedin, and usually found him writing. Then on the evening of the26th, when he knew that Jean had been laid to rest in Elmira, hecame to my room with the manuscript in his hand....　

NEW BURLESQUESNEW BURLESQUESby Bret Harte1- Page 2-NEW BURLESQUESCHAPTER IRUDOLPH OF TRULYRURALANIAWhen I state that I was own brother to Lord Burleydon, had an incomeof two thousand a year, could speak all the polite languages fluently, was apowerful swordsman, a good shot, and could ride anything from an...　

The Blue Flowerby Henry van DykeThe desire of the moth for the star,Of the night for the morrow,The devotion for something afarFrom the sphere of our sorrow.SHELLEY.ToTHE DEAR MEMORY OFBERNARD VAN DYKE1887-1897AND THE LOVE THAT LIVESBEYOND THE YEARSPREFACESometimes short stories are brought together like parcels ina basket. Sometimes they grow together like blossoms on abush. Then, of course, they really belong to one another,because they have the same life in them.The stories in this book have been growing together for a...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE LITTLE MATCH-SELLERby Hans Christian AndersenIT was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of theold year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness,a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed throughthe streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she lefthome, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large,indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor littlecreature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two...　

THE PATCHWORK GIRL OF OZby L. FRANK BAUMAffectionately dedicated to my young friendSumner Hamilton Britton of ChicagoPrologueThrough the kindness of Dorothy Gale of Kansas,afterward Princess Dorothy of Oz, an humble writerin the United States of America was once appointedRoyal Historian of Oz, with the privilege ofwriting the chronicle of that wonderful fairyland.But after making six books about the adventures ofthose interesting but queer people who live in the...　

APPENDIX DThe Awful German LanguageA little learning makes the whole world kin.Proverbs xxxii, 7.I went often to look at the collection of curiositiesin Heidelberg Castle, and one day I surprised the keeperof it with my German. I spoke entirely in that language.He was greatly interested; and after I had talked a whilehe said my German was very rare, possibly a "unique";and wanted to add it to his museum.If he had known what it had cost me to acquire my art,he would also have known that it would break anycollector to buy it. Harris and I had been hard at...