The whine of Troft thrusters drifted in through the window on the late-summer breezes, jarring Jonny Moreau awake. For one heart-wrenching moment he was back in the midst of the Adirondack war; but as he tipped his recliner back to vertical the abrupt stab of pain in elbows and knees snapped him back to the present. For a minute he just sat there, gazing out the window at the Capitalia skyline and trying to bring his brain and body back on-line. Then, reaching carefully to his desk, he jabbed at the inter button on his phone. "Yes, Governor?" Theron Yutu said. Jonny leaned back in his chair
SHERLOCK HOLMESTHE ADVENTURE OF WISTERIA LODGEby Sir Arthur Conan Doyle1. The Singular Experience of Mr. John Scott EcclesI find it recorded in my notebook that it was a bleak and windy day,towards the end of March in the year 1892. Holmes had received atelegram while we sat at our lunch, and he had scribbled a reply. Hemade no remark, but the matter remained in his thoughts, for hestood in front of the fire afterwards with a thoughtful face,smoking his pipe, and casting an occasional glance at the message....
THE CRITIC AS ARTIST - WITH SOME REMARKS UPON THE IMPORTANCE OF DOING NOTHINGA DIALOGUE. Part I. Persons: Gilbert and Ernest. Scene: the library of a house in Piccadilly, overlooking the Green Park.GILBERT (at the Piano). My dear Ernest, what are you laughing at?ERNEST (looking up). At a capital story that I have just come across in this volume of Reminiscences that I have found on your table.GILBERT. What is the book? Ah! I see. I have not read it yet. Is it good?ERNEST. Well, while you have been playing, I have been turning over the pages with some amusement, though, as a rule, I
The Queen of the Pirate Isleby Bret HarteI first knew her as the Queen of the Pirate Isle. To the best ofmy recollection she had no reasonable right to that title. She wasonly nine years old, inclined to plumpness and good humor,deprecated violence, and had never been to sea. Need it be addedthat she did NOT live in an island and that her name was Polly?Perhaps I ought to explain that she had already known otherexperiences of a purely imaginative character. Part of herexistence had been passed as a Beggar Child,solely indicated by ashawl tightly folded round her shoulders, and chills; as
THE DEAD WIFE[20][20] From the Iroquois.Once upon a time there were a man and his wife who lived in theforest, very far from the rest of the tribe. Very often theyspent the day in hunting together, but after a while the wifefound that she had so many things to do that she was obliged tostay at home; so he went alone, though he found that when hiswife was not with him he never had any luck. One day, when hewas away hunting, the woman fell ill, and in a few days she died.Her husband grieved bitterly, and buried her in the house whereshe had passed her life; but as the time went on he felt so.
The Caged Lionby Charlotte M. YongePREFACEWhen the venture has been made of dealing with historical events and characters, it always seems fair towards the reader to avow what liberties have been taken, and how much of the sketch is founded on history. In the present case, it is scarcely necessary to do more than refer to the almost unique relations that subsisted between Henry V. and his prisoner, James I. of Scotland; who lived with him throughout his reign on the terms of friend rather than of captive, and was absolutely sheltered by this imprisonment throughout his nonage and early youth
Annajanska, the Bolshevik Empressby George Bernard ShawANNAJANSKA is frankly a bravura piece. The modern variety theatredemands for its "turns" little plays called sketches, to lasttwenty minutes or so, and to enable some favorite performer tomake a brief but dazzling appearance on some barely passabledramatic pretext. Miss Lillah McCarthy and I, as author andactress, have helped to make one another famous on many seriousoccasions, from Man and Superman to Androcles; and Mr CharlesRicketts has not disdained to snatch moments from his paintingand sculpture to design some wonderful dresses for
The Life of Flavius Josephusby Flavius JosephusTranslated by William Whiston1. The family from which I am derived is not an ignoble one, buthath descended all along from the priests; and as nobility amongseveral people is of a different origin, so with us to be of thesacerdotal dignity, is an indication of the splendor of a family.Now, I am not only sprung from a sacerdotal family in general,but from the first of the twenty-four (1) courses; and as amongus there is not only a considerable difference between one familyof each course and another, I am of the chief family of that...
THE MONKEY AND THE JELLY-FISHChildren must often have wondered why jelly-fishes have noshells, like so many of the creatures that are washed up everyday on the beach. In old times this was not so; the jelly-fishhad as hard a shell as any of them, but he lost it through hisown fault, as may be seen in this story.The sea-queen Otohime, whom you read of in the story ofUraschimatoro, grew suddenly very ill. The swiftest messengerswere sent hurrying to fetch the best doctors from every countryunder the sea, but it was all of no use; the queen grew rapidlyworse instead of better. Everyone had al
The Club of Queer Tradesby G.K.ChestertonChapter 1The Tremendous Adventures of Major BrownRabelais, or his wild illustrator Gustave Dore, must have had something to do with the designing of the things called flats in England and America. There is something entirely Gargantuan in the idea of economising space by piling houses on top of each other, front doors and all. And in the chaos and complexity of those perpendicular streets anything may dwell or happen, and it is in one of them, I believe, that the inquirer may find the offices of the Club of Queer Trades. It may be thought at the first
THE BOYS WITH THE GOLDEN STARSOnce upon a time what happened did happen: and if it had nothappened, you would never have heard this story.Well, once upon a time there lived an emperor who had half aworld all to himself to rule over, and in this world dwelt an oldherd and his wife and their three daughters, Anna, Stana, andLaptitza.Anna, the eldest, was so beautiful that when she took the sheepto pasture they forgot to eat as long as she was walking withthem. Stana, the second, was so beautiful that when she wasdriving the flock the wolves protected the sheep. But Laptitza,...
Arizona Nightsby Stewart Edward WhiteCHAPTER ONETHE OLE VIRGINIAThe ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and theturquoise blue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the drycountries are infrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm.We had ridden since sun-up over broad mesas, down and out ofdeep canons, along the base of the mountain in the wildestparts of the territory. The cattle were winding leisurely towardthe high country; the jack rabbits had disappeared; the quaillacked; we did not see a single antelope in the open....
SHERLOCK HOLMESTHE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING THREE-QUARTERby Sir Arthur Conan DoyleWe were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at BakerStreet, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached uson a gloomy February morning, some seven or eight years ago, andgave Mr. Sherlock Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It wasaddressed to him, and ran thus:Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quartermissing, indispensable to-morrow.OVERTON....
Labour Defended against the Claims of CapitalOr the Unproductiveness of Capital proved with Reference to thePresent Combinations amongst Journeymenby Thomas Hodgskin1825NOTEIN all the debates on the law passed during the late session ofParliament, on account of the combinations of workmen, muchstress is laid on the necessity of protecting capital. Whatcapital performs is therefore a question of considerableimportance, which the author was, on this account, induced toexamine. As a result of this examination, it is his opinion thatall the benefits attributed to capital arise from co-existing an
The Doom of the Griffithsby Elizabeth GaskellCHAPTER I.I have always been much interested by the traditions which arescattered up and down North Wales relating to Owen Glendower (OwainGlendwr is the national spelling of the name), and I fully enter intothe feeling which makes the Welsh peasant still look upon him as thehero of his country. There was great joy among many of theinhabitants of the principality, when the subject of the Welsh prizepoem at Oxford, some fifteen or sixteen years ago, was announced tobe "Owain Glendwr." It was the most proudly national subject that...