Dusk was beginning to creep down from the mountains when the Witchfinder rode into Craiglowrie. His hunched position in the saddle of the black mare disguised his true height, yet all the same he was tall and terrible, the features beneath the dark broad-brimmed hat seemed like those of a sun-bleached skull from a distance. The grimace that revealed black and broken teeth; the eyes that glowed with the fire of a personal hatred, and seemed to search out each and every one of the peasants who trembled and watched behind the windows of their tumbledown bothies.　　　　They remembered the last t　

Free Trade or, The Meanes To Make Trade Florish. Wherein, TheCauses of the Decay of Trade in this Kingdome, are discovered:And the Remedies also to remoove the same, are represented.Propertius, nauita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator: Enumeratmiles vulnera, pastor oues.London, Printed by John Legatt, for Simon Waterson, dwelling inPaules Church-yard at the Signe of the Crowne. 1622by Edward MisseldonTo the Prince. SirYour Highnes is no lesse Happy to bee the Sonne of so great aKing, then to be the Heire apparent of so many Kingdomes. In the...　

THE SCARECROW of OZDedicated to"The uplifters" of Los Angeles, California, ingrateful appreciation of the pleasure I have derivedfrom association with them, and in recognition oftheir sincere endeavor to uplift humanity throughkindness, consideration and good-fellowship. They arebig menall of themand all with the generoushearts of little children.L. Frank BaumTHE SCARECROW of OZby L. Frank Baum"TWIXT YOU AND ME...　

The Colour of Lifeby Alice MeynellContents:The Colour of LifeA Point Of BiographyCloudWinds of the WorldThe Honours of MortalityAt Monastery GatesRushes and ReedsEleonora DuseDonkey RacesGrassA Woman in GreySymmetry and IncidentThe Illusion of Historic TimeEyesTHE COLOUR OF LIFERed has been praised for its nobility as the colour of life. Butthe true colour of life is not red. Red is the colour of violence,or of life broken open, edited, and published. Or if red is indeed...　

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTLike most other young matrons, Meg began her married life with the determination to be a model housekeeper. John should find home a paradise, he should always see a smiling face, should fare sumptuously every day, and never know the loss of a button. She brought so much love, energy, and cheerfulness to the work that she could not but succeed, in spite of some obstacles. Her paradise was not a tranquil one, for the little woman fussed, was over-anxious to please, and bustled about like a true Martha, cumbered with many cares. She was too tired, sometimes, even to smile, Jo　

Youthby Leo TolstoyTranslated by C. J. HogarthIWHAT I CONSIDER TO HAVE BEEN THE BEGINNING OF MY YOUTHI have said that my friendship with Dimitri opened up for me anew view of my life and of its aim and relations. The essence ofthat view lay in the conviction that the destiny of man is tostrive for moral improvement, and that such improvement is atonce easy, possible, and lasting. Hitherto, however, I had foundpleasure only in the new ideas which I discovered to arise fromthat conviction, and in the forming of brilliant plans for a...　

METEOROLOGYby Aristotletranslated by E. W. WebsterBook I1WE have already discussed the first causes of nature, and allnatural motion, also the stars ordered in the motion of the heavens,and the physical element-enumerating and specifying them and showinghow they change into one another-and becoming and perishing ingeneral. There remains for consideration a part of this inquiry...　

EPILOGUEMOONSTONE again, in the year 1909. The Metho-dists are giving an ice-cream sociable in the groveabout the new court-house. It is a warm summer night offull moon. The paper lanterns which hang among thetrees are foolish toys, only dimming, in little lurid circles,the great softness of the lunar light that floods the blueheavens and the high plateau. To the east the sand hillsshine white as of old, but the empire of the sand is grad-ually diminishing. The grass grows thicker over the dunes...　

Child Christopher and Goldilind the Fairby William Morris1895CHAPTER I.OF THE KING OF OAKENREALM, AND HIS WIFE AND HIS CHILD.Of old there was a land which was so much a woodland, that a minstrel thereof said it that a squirrel might go from end to end, and all about, from tree to tree, and never touch the earth: therefore was that land called Oakenrealm.The lord and king thereof was a stark man, and so great a warrior that in his youth he took no delight in aught else save battle and tourneys. But when he was hard on forty years old, he came across a daughter of a certain lord, whom he had 　

Child of Stormby H. Rider HaggardDEDICATIONDear Mr. Stuart,For twenty years, I believe I am right in saying, you, as AssistantSecretary for Native Affairs in Natal, and in other offices, have beenintimately acquainted with the Zulu people. Moreover, you are one ofthe few living men who have made a deep and scientific study of theirlanguage, their customs and their history. So I confess that I was themore pleased after you were so good as to read this talethe secondbook of the epic of the vengeance of Zikali, "theThing-that-should-never-have-been-born," and of the fall of the House of...　

The Itinerary of Archibishop Baldwin through Walesby Giraldus CambrensisINTRODUCTIONGerald the Welshman - Giraldus Cambrensis - was born, probably in 1147, at Manorbier Castle in the county of Pembroke. His father was a Norman noble, William de Barri, who took his name from the little island of Barry off the coast of Glamorgan. His mother, Angharad, was the daughter of Gerald de Windsor {1} by his wife, the famous Princess Nesta, the "Helen of Wales," and the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr Mawr, the last independent Prince of South Wales.Gerald was therefore born to romance and adventure. He w　

The Complete Writings of Charles Dudley Warner Volume 2by Charles Dudley WarnerCONTENTS:SAUNTERINGSMISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTEDI should not like to ask an indulgent and idle public to saunter about with me under a misapprehension. It would be more agreeable to invite it to go nowhere than somewhere; for almost every one has been somewhere, and has written about it. The only compromise I can suggest is, that we shall go somewhere, and not learn anything about it. The instinct of the public against any thing like information in a volume of this kind is perfectly justifiable; and the reader wil　

A Journey in Other Worldsby J. J. AstorA ROMANCE OF THE FUTUREBY JOHN JACOB ASTORPREFACE.The protracted struggle between science and the classics appearsto be drawing to a close, with victory about to perch on thebanner of science, as a perusal of almost any university orcollege catalogue shows. While a limited knowledge of both Greekand Latin is important for the correct use of our own language,the amount till recently required, in my judgment, has beenabsurdly out of proportion to the intrinsic value of thesebranches, or perhaps more correctly roots, of study. The...　

The Man Who Was Afraidby Maxim GorkyTranslated by Herman BernsteinINTRODUCTORY NOTE.OUT of the darkest depths of life, where vice and crime and misery abound, comes the Byron of the twentieth century, the poet of the vagabond and the proletariat, Maxim Gorky. Not like the beggar, humbly imploring for a crust in the name of the Lord, nor like the jeweller displaying his precious stones to dazzle and tempt the eye, he comes to the world,nay, in accents of Tyrtaeus this commoner of Nizhni Novgorod spurs on his troops of freedom-loving heroes to conquer, as it were, the placid, self- satisfied li　

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEThe June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine, like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind, whispering to one another what they had seen, for some peeped in at the dining room windows where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch, and hall, and all, from the rosiest f　

Staccato Notes of a Vanished Summerby William Dean HowellsMonday afternoon the storm which had been beating up against thesoutheasterly wind nearly all day thickened, fold upon fold, in thenorthwest. The gale increased, and blackened the harbor and whitened theopen sea beyond, where sail after sail appeared round the reef ofWhaleback Light, and ran in a wild scamper for the safe anchorageswithin.Since noon cautious coasters of all sorts had been dropping in with acasual air; the coal schooners and barges had rocked and nodded knowinglyto one another, with their taper and truncated masts, on