Dreams & Dustby Don MarquisTOMY MOTHERVIRGINIA WHITMORE MARQUISCONTENTSPROEMDAYLIGHT HUMORSTHIS IS ANOTHER DAYAPRIL SONGTHE EARTH, IT IS ALSO A STARTHE NAMETHE BIRTHA MOOD OF PAVLOWATHE POOL"THEY HAD NO POET"NEW YORKA HYMNTHE SINGERWORDS ARE NOT GUNSWITH THE SUBMARINESNICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRODICKENSA POLITICIANTHE BAYONETTHE BUTCHERS AT PRAYERSHADOWSHAUNTEDA NIGHTMARETHE MOTHER...　

"A Death in the Desert"Everett Hilgarde was conscious that the man in the seatacross the aisle was looking at him intently. He was a large,florid man, wore a conspicuous diamond solitaire upon his thirdfinger, and Everett judged him to be a traveling salesman of somesort. He had the air of an adaptable fellow who had been aboutthe world and who could keep cool and clean under almost anycircumstances.The "High Line Flyer," as this train was derisively calledamong railroad men, was jerking along through the hot afternoon...　

The Golden Chersonese and the Way Thitherby Isabella L. Bird (Mrs. Bishop)PREFACEIn presenting to the public the last installment of my travels in theFar East, in 1879, I desire to offer, both to my readers and critics, mygrateful acknowledgments for the kindness with which my letters fromJapan were received, and to ask for an equally kind and lenient estimateof my present volume, which has been prepared for publication under theheavy shadow of the loss of the beloved and only sister to whom theletters of which it consists were written, and whose able and careful...　

The Angel and the Author and othersby Jerome K. JeromeCHAPTER II had a vexing dream one night, not long ago: it was about afortnight after Christmas. I dreamt I flew out of the window in mynightshirt. I went up and up. I was glad that I was going up."They have been noticing me," I thought to myself. "If anything, Ihave been a bit too good. A little less virtue and I might havelived longer. But one cannot have everything." The world grewsmaller and smaller. The last I saw of London was the long line ofelectric lamps bordering the Embankment; later nothing remained but a...　

The Perpetuation of Living Beingsby Thomas Henry HuxleyThe inquiry which we undertook, at our last meeting, into the state ofour knowledge of the causes of the phenomena of organic nature,of thepast and of the present,resolved itself into two subsidiaryinquiries: the first was, whether we know anything, either historicallyor experimentally, of the mode of origin of living beings; the secondsubsidiary inquiry was, whether, granting the origin, we know anythingabout the perpetuation and modifications of the forms of organicbeings. The reply which I had to give to the first question was...　

Letters to His Son, 1750by The Earl of ChesterfieldLETTERS TO HIS SONBy the EARL OF CHESTERFIELDon the Fine Art of becoming aMAN OF THE WORLDand aGENTLEMANLETTER CLONDON, January 8, O. S. 1750DEAR BOY: I have seldom or never written to you upon the subject of religion and morality; your own reason, I am persuaded, has given you true notions of both; they speak best for themselves; but if they wanted assistance, you have Mr. Harte at hand, both for precept and example; to your own reason, therefore, and to Mr. Harte, shall I refer you for the reality of both, and confine myself in this letter　

Warlord of Marsby Edgar Rice BurroughsCONTENTSOn the River IssUnder the MountainsThe Temple of the SunThe Secret TowerOn the Kaolian RoadA Hero in KaolNew AlliesThrough the Carrion CavesWith the Yellow MenIn DuranceThe Pity of Plenty"Follow the Rope!"The Magnet SwitchThe Tide of BattleRewardsThe New RulerTHE WARLORD OF MARSON THE RIVER ISSIn the shadows of the forest that flanks the crimson plain by...　

AN ODYSSEY OF THE NORTH.ITHE SLEDS WERE SINGING their eternal lament to the creaking of theharness and the tinkling bells of the leaders; but the men and dogswere tired and made no sound. The trail was heavy with new-fallensnow, and they had come far, and the runners, burdened with flint-likequarters of frozen moose, clung tenaciously to the unpacked surfaceand held back with a stubbornness almost human. Darkness was comingon, but there was no camp to pitch that night. The snow fell gently...　

The Chouansby Honore de BalzacTranslated by Katharine Prescott WormeleyDEDICATIONTo Monsieur Theodore Dablin, Merchant.To my first friend, my first work.De Balzac.THE CHOUANSIAN AMBUSCADEEarly in the year VIII., at the beginning of Vendemiaire, or, to conform to our own calendar, towards the close of September, 1799, a hundred or so of peasants and a large number of citizens, who had left Fougeres in the morning on their way to Mayenne, were going up the little mountain of La Pelerine, half-way between Fougeres and Ernee, a small town where travellers along that road are in the habit of resti　

BenitaAn African Romanceby H. Rider HaggardNOTESIt may interest readers of this story to know that its authorbelieves it to have a certain foundation in fact.It was said about five-and-twenty or thirty years ago that anadventurous trader, hearing from some natives in the territorythat lies at the back of Quilimane, the legend of a great treasureburied in or about the sixteenth century by a party of Portuguesewho were afterwards massacred, as a last resource attempted itsdiscovery by the help of a mesmerist. According to this history...　

THE KREUTZER SONATA.CHAPTER I.Travellers left and entered our car at every stopping of thetrain. Three persons, however, remained, bound, like myself, forthe farthest station: a lady neither young nor pretty, smokingcigarettes, with a thin face, a cap on her head, and wearing asemi-masculine outer garment; then her companion, a veryloquacious gentleman of about forty years, with baggage entirelynew and arranged in an orderly manner; then a gentleman who heldhimself entirely aloof, short in stature, very nervous, ofuncertain age, with bright eyes, not pronounced in color, but...　

AGIS264-241 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenTHE fable of Ixion, who, embracing a cloud instead of Juno, begotthe Centaurs, has been ingeniously enough supposed to have beeninvented to represent to us ambitious men, whose minds, doting onglory, which is a mere image of virtue, produce nothing that isgenuine or uniform, but only, as might be expected of such aconjunction, misshapen and unnatural actions. Running after their...　

Legend of the Rose of the Alhambra.FOR SOME time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, thatdelightful city was a frequent and favorite residence of the Spanishsovereigns, until they were frightened away by successive shocks ofearthquakes, which toppled down various houses, and made the oldMoslem towers rock to their foundation.Many, many years then rolled away, during which Granada was rarelyhonored by a royal guest. The palaces of the nobility remainedsilent and shut up; and the Alhambra, like a slighted beauty, sat in...　

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 　

Literary Boston As I Knew Itby William Dean HowellsAmong my fellow-passengers on the train from New York to Boston, when Iwent to begin my work there in 1866, as the assistant editor of theAtlantic Monthly, was the late Samuel Bowles, of the SpringfieldRepublican, who created in a subordinate city a journal of metropolitanimportance. I had met him in Venice several years earlier, when he wassuffering from the cruel insomnia which had followed his overwork on thatnewspaper, and when he told me that he was sleeping scarcely more thanone hour out of the twenty-four. His worn face attested the 　

THE VISION SPLENDIDTHE VISIONSPLENDIDWilliam MacLeod Raine1- Page 2-THE VISION SPLENDIDCHAPTER 1Of all the remote streams of influence that pour both before and afterbirth into the channel of our being, what an insignificant fewand theseonly the more obviousare traceable at all. We swim in a sea ofenvironment and heredity, are tossed hither and thither by we know not...