THE SUN-DOG TRAILSITKA CHARLEY smoked his pipe and gazed thoughtfully at the POLICEGAZETTE illustration on the wall. For half an hour he had beensteadily regarding it, and for half an hour I had been slylywatching him. Something was going on in that mind of his, and,whatever it was, I knew it was well worth knowing. He had livedlife, and seen things, and performed that prodigy of prodigies,namely, the turning of his back upon his own people, and, in so faras it was possible for an Indian, becoming a white man even in hismental processes. As he phrased it himself, he had come into the...　

470 BCTHE PERSIANSby Aeschylustranslated by Robert PotterCHARACTERS IN THE PLAYATOSSA, widow of Darius and mother of XERXESMESSENGERGHOST OF DARIUSXERXESCHORUS OF PERSIAN ELDERS, who compose the Persian Council of State(SCENE:-Before the Council-Hall of the Persian Kings at Susa. Thetomb of Darius the Great is visible. The time is 480 B.C., shortlyafter the battle of Salamis. The play opens with the CHORUS OF...　

Sheby H. Ryder HaggardCHAPTER IMY VISITORTHERE are some events of which each circumstance andsurrounding detail seems to be graven on the memory insuch fashion that we cannot forget it, and so it iswith the scene that I am about to describe. It risesas clearly before my mind at this moment as though ithad happened yesterday.It was in this very month something over twenty yearsago that I, Ludwig Horace Holly, was sitting one nightin my rooms at Cambridge, grinding away at somemathematical work, I forget what. I was to go up for...　

My Buried Treasureby Richard Harding DavisThis is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The onlypart that is not true is the name of the man with whom I searchedfor the treasure. Unless I keep his name out of it he will not letme write the story, and, as it was his expedition and as my shareof the treasure is only what I can make by writing the story, Imust write as he dictates. I think the story should be told,because our experience was unique, and might be of benefit toothers. And, besides, I need the money.There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing him...　

Tales of TroyTales of Troyby Andrew Lang1- Page 2-Tales of TroyTHE BOYHOOD AND PARENTSOF ULYSSESLong ago, in a little island called Ithaca, on the west coast of Greece,there lived a king named Laertes. His kingdom was small andmountainous. People used to say that Ithaca "lay like a shield upon thesea," which sounds as if it were a flat country. But in those times shields...　

An International Episodeby Henry JamesPART IFour years agoin 1874two young Englishmen had occasion to goto the United States. They crossed the ocean at midsummer,and, arriving in New York on the first day of August,were much struck with the fervid temperature of that city.Disembarking upon the wharf, they climbed into one of those hugehigh-hung coaches which convey passengers to the hotels,and with a great deal of bouncing and bumping, took theircourse through Broadway. The midsummer aspect of New York...　

The Old Bachelorby William CongreveQuem tulit ad scenam ventoso Gloria curru, Exanimat lentus spectator; sedulus inflat: Sic leve, sic parvum est, animum quod laudis avarum Subruit, and reficit.HORAT. Epist. I. lib. ii.To the Right Honourable Charles, Lord Clifford of Lanesborough, etc.My Lord,It is with a great deal of pleasure that I lay hold on this first occasion which the accidents of my life have given me of writing to your lordship: for since at the same time I write to all the world, it will be a means of publishing (what I would have everybody know) the respect and duty which I owe　

A Daughter of Eveby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Katharine Prescott WormeleyDEDICATIONTo Madame la Comtesse Bolognini, nee Vimercati.If you remember, madame, the pleasure your conversation gave to atraveller by recalling Paris to his memory in Milan, you will notbe surprised to find him testifying his gratitude for manypleasant evenings passed beside you by laying one of his works atyour feet, and begging you to protect it with your name, as informer days that name protected the tales of an ancient writer...　

EvangelineA Tale of Acadieby Henry Wadsworth LongfellowTHIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring oceanSpeaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath itLeaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?...　

THE UNEXPECTEDIT is a simple matter to see the obvious, to do the expected. Thetendency of the individual life is to be static rather thandynamic, and this tendency is made into a propulsion bycivilization, where the obvious only is seen, and the unexpectedrarely happens. When the unexpected does happen, however, and whenit is of sufficiently grave import, the unfit perish. They do notsee what is not obvious, are unable to do the unexpected, areincapable of adjusting their well-grooved lives to other andstrange grooves. In short, when they come to the end of their own...　

　　PREFACE　... And behind the Northern Armies came another army of men. They came by the hundreds, yet each traveled alone. They came on foot, by mule, on horseback, on creaking wagons or riding in handsome chaises. They were of all shapes and sizes and descended from many nationalities. They wore dark suits, usually covered with the gray dust of travel, and dark, broad-brimmed hats to shield their white faces from the hot, unfamiliar sun. And on their back, or across their saddle, or on top of their wagon was the inevitable faded multicolored bag made of worn and ragged remnants of carpet int　

THE HAZEL-NUT CHILD [29][29] From the Bukowniaer. Van Wliolocki.There was once upon a time a couple who had no children, and theyprayed Heaven every day to send them a child, though it were nobigger than a hazel-nut. At last Heaven heard their prayer andsent them a child exactly the size of a hazel-nut, and it nevergrew an inch. The parents were very devoted to the littlecreature, and nursed and tended it carefully. Their tiny son toowas as clever as he could be, and so sharp and sensible that allthe neighbours marvelled over the wise things he said and did....　

Chastelard, A TragedyBy Algernon Charles SwingurnePERSONS.MARY STUART.MARY BEATON.MARY SEYTON.MARY CARMICHAEL.MARY HAMILTON.PIERRE DE BOSCOSEL DE CHASTELARD.DARNLEY.MURRAY.RANDOLPH.MORTON.LINDSAY.FATHER BLACK.Guards, Burgesses, a Preacher, Citizens, &c.Another Yle is there toward the Northe, in the See Occean,where that ben fulle cruele and ful evele Wommen of Nature:and thei han precious Stones in hire Eyen; and their ben ofthat kynde, that zif they beholden ony man, thei slen him anon...　

420 BCTHE ACHARNIANSby Aristophanesanonymous translatorCHARACTERS IN THE PLAYDICAEOPOLISHERALDAMPHITHEUSAMBASSADORSPSEUDARTABASTHEORUSDAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLISSLAVE OF EURIPIDESEURIPIDESLAMACHUSA MEGARIANTWO YOUNG GIRLS, daughters of the MegarianAN INFORMERA BOEOTIANNICARCHUSSLAVE OF LAMACHUS...　

Philosophy 4A Story of Harvard Universityby Owen WisterITwo frowning boys sat in their tennis flannels beneath the glare of lampand gas. Their leather belts were loosened, their soft pink shirtsunbuttoned at the collar. They were listening with gloomy voracity tothe instruction of a third. They sat at a table bared of its customarysporting ornaments, and from time to time they questioned, sucked theirpencils, and scrawled vigorous, laconic notes. Their necks and facesshone with the bloom of out-of-doors. Studious concentration was...　

The Vicar of Toursby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Katharine Prescott WormeleyDEDICATIONTo David, Sculptor:The permanence of the work on which I inscribe your nametwice made illustrious in this centuryis very problematical;whereas you have graven mine in bronze which survives nationsif only in their coins. The day may come when numismatists,discovering amid the ashes of Paris existences perpetuated byyou, will wonder at the number of heads crowned in youratelier and endeavour to find in them new dynasties....