Donal Grantby George MacDonaldCHAPTER I.FOOT-FARING.It was a lovely morning in the first of summer. Donal Grant wasdescending a path on a hillside to the valley belowa sheep-trackof which he knew every winding as well as any boy his half-mile toand from school. But he had never before gone down the hill withthe feeling that he was not about to go up again. He was on his wayto pastures very new, and in the distance only negatively inviting.But his heart was too full to be troublednor was his a heart toharbour a care, the next thing to an evil spirit, though not quite...　

THE BIRTHMARKIn the latter part of the last century there lived a man ofscience, an eminent proficient in every branch of naturalphilosophy, who not long before our story opens had madeexperience of a spiritual affinity more attractive than anychemical one. He had left his laboratory to the care of anassistant, cleared his fine countenance from the furnace smoke,washed the stain of acids from his fingers, and persuaded abeautiful woman to become his wife. In those days when thecomparatively recent discovery of electricity and other kindredmysteries of Nature seemed to open paths into the regi　

The History of John Bullby John ArbuthnotINTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY.This is the book which fixed the name and character of John Bull on the English people. Though in one part of the story he is thin and long nosed, as a result of trouble, generally he is suggested to us as "ruddy and plump, with a pair of cheeks like a trumpeter," an honest tradesman, simple and straightforward, easily cheated; but when he takes his affairs into his own hands, acting with good plain sense, knowing very well what he wants done, and doing it.The book was begun in the year 1712, and published in four successi　

Benthamby John Stuart MillLondon and Westminster Review, Aug. 1838, revised in 1859 in Dissertations and Discussion, vol. 1.There are two men, recently deceased, to whom their country is indebted not only for the greater part of the important ideas which have been thrown into circulation among its thinking men in their time, but for a revolution in its general modes of thought and investigation. These men, dissimilar in almost all else, agreed in being closet-students secluded in a peculiar degree, by circumstances and character, from the business and intercourse of the world: and both were,　

ON LONGEVITY AND SHORTNESS OF LIFEby Aristotletranslated by G. R. T. Ross1THE reasons for some animals being long-lived and othersshort-lived, and, in a word, causes of the length and brevity oflife call for investigation.The necessary beginning to our inquiry is a statement of thedifficulties about these points. For it is not clear whether inanimals and plants universally it is a single or diverse cause that...　

THE BLACK THIEFAND KNIGHT OF THE GLEN.IN times of yore there was a King and a Queen in the south ofIreland who had three sons, all beautiful children; but theQueen, their mother, sickened unto death when they were yet veryyoung, which caused great grief throughout the Court, particularlyto the King, her husband, who could in no wise be comforted.Seeing that death was drawing near her, she called the King to herand spoke as follows:`I am now going to leave you, and as you are young and inyour prime, of course after my death you will marry again. Now...　

The Illustrious Gaudissartby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Katharine Prescott WormeleyDEDICATIONTo Madame la Duchesse de Castries.THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSARTCHAPTER IThe commercial traveller, a personage unknown to antiquity, is one ofthe striking figures created by the manners and customs of our presentepoch. May he not, in some conceivable order of things, be destined tomark for coming philosophers the great transition which welds a periodof material enterprise to the period of intellectual strength? Our...　

Last Days in a Dutch Hotelby William Dean HowellsWhen we said that we were going to Scheveningen, in the middle ofSeptember, the portier of the hotel at The Hague was sure we should bevery cold, perhaps because we had suffered so much in his house already;and he was right, for the wind blew with a Dutch tenacity of purpose fora whole week, so that the guests thinly peopling the vast hostelry seemedto rustle through its chilly halls and corridors like so many autumnleaves. We were but a poor hundred at most where five hundred would nothave been a crowd; and, when we sat down at the long table　

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　

St. Ives, The Adventures of a French Prisoner in Englandby Robert Louis StevensonCHAPTER I - A TALE OF A LION RAMPANTIT was in the month of May 1813 that I was so unlucky as to fall atlast into the hands of the enemy. My knowledge of the Englishlanguage had marked me out for a certain employment. Though Icannot conceive a soldier refusing to incur the risk, yet to behanged for a spy is a disgusting business; and I was relieved to beheld a prisoner of war. Into the Castle of Edinburgh, standing inthe midst of that city on the summit of an extraordinary rock, I...　

THESEUSLegendaryby Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenAs geographers, Sosius, crowd into the edges of their maps partsof the world which they do not know about, adding notes in themargin to the effect, that beyond this lies nothing but the sandydeserts full of wild beasts, unapproachable bogs, Scythian ice, or afrozen sea, so in this work of mine, in which I have compared thelives of the greatest men with one another, after passing through...　

PRESTER JOHNJOHN BUCHANTOLIONEL PHILLIPSTime, they say, must the best of us capture,And travel and battle and gems and goldNo more can kindle the ancient rapture,For even the youngest of hearts grows old.But in you, I think, the boy is not over;So take this medley of ways and warsAs the gift of a friend and a fellow-loverOf the fairest country under the stars.J. B.CONTENTSi. The Man on the Kirkcaple Shoreii. Furth! Fortune!iii. Blaauwildebeestefonteiniv. My Journey to the Winter-Veldv. Mr Wardlaw Has a Premonition...　

Rezanovby Gertrude AthertonWith an Introduction byWILLIAM MARION REEDYINTRODUCTIONA long list of works Gertrude Atherton has to her credit as a writer. She is indisputably a woman of genius. Not that her genius is distinctively feminine, though she is in matters historical a pas- sionate partisan. Most of the critics who approve her work agree that in the main she views life with somewhat of the masculine spirit of liberality. She is as much the realist as one can be who is saturated with the romance that is California, her birthplace and her home, if such a true cosmopolite as she can be　

　Another Disc day dawned, but very gradually, and this is why.　When light encounters a strong magical field it loses ail sense of urgency. It slows right down. And on the Discworld the magic was embarrassingly strong, which meant that the soft yellow light of dawn flowed over the sleeping landscape like the caress of a gentle lover or, as some would have it, like golden syrup. It paused to fill up valleys. It piled up against mountain ranges. When it reached Cori Celesti, the ten mile spire of grey stone and green ice that marked the hub of the Disc and was the home of its gods, it built up i　

THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses,"cried the young Student; "but in all my garden there is no redrose."From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale heard him, andshe looked out through the leaves, and wondered."No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his beautiful eyesfilled with tears. "Ah, on what little things does happinessdepend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and allthe secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE BIRD OF POPULAR SONGby Hans Christian AndersenIT is winter-time. The earth wears a snowy garment, and looks likemarble hewn out of the rock; the air is bright and clear; the windis sharp as a well-tempered sword, and the trees stand like branchesof white coral or blooming almond twigs, and here it is keen as on thelofty Alps.The night is splendid in the gleam of the Northern Lights, andin the glitter of innumerable twinkling stars.But we sit in the warm room, by the hot stove, and talk about...