White Liesby Charles ReadeCHAPTER I.Towards the close of the last century the Baron de Beaurepaire lived in the chateau of that name in Brittany. His family was of prodigious antiquity; seven successive barons had already flourished on this spot when a younger son of the house accompanied his neighbor the Duke of Normandy in his descent on England, and was rewarded by a grant of English land, on which he dug a mote and built a chateau, and called it Beaurepaire (the worthy Saxons turned this into Borreper without delay). Since that day more than twenty gentlemen of the same lineage had held　

　This novel is dedicated to Stan, Christopher, Michele and Howard; to Rosario and Patrice; to Pamela and Elaine; and to Niccolo.　This novel is dedicated by Vittorio to the people of Florence, Italy.　　　1　WHO I AM, WHY I WRITE, WHAT IS TO E　　WHEN I was a small boy I had a terrible dream. I dreamt I held in my arms the severed heads of my younger brother I and sister. They were quick still, and mute, with big fluttering eyes, and reddened cheeks, and so horrified was I that I could make no more of a sound than they could. The dream came true.　But no one will weep for me or for them. They have be　

Years and years later, I still start in the deepest part of night with his agonized face before me. And always, in these helpless dreams, I am helpless to ease his suffering.　　I will tell the tale then, in hope the last ghosts may be put to rest, if such a thing can ever happen in this place where there are more ghosts than living souls. But you will have to listen closely - this is a tale that the teller herself does not fully understand.　　I will tell you of Lord Sulis, my famous stepfather.　　I will tell you what the witch foretold to me.　　I will tell you of the love that I had and I lost..　

　The solitary figure in the saffron robes shielded his eyes from the glare and squinted down the glacier to where the enormous black vessel lay, one-third submerged, in the floor of the valley. Allowing for the portion lost below the icy surface of the frozen lake it was easily some three hundred cubits long, at least fifty wide and another thirty high. It had, overall, the appearance of some fantastic barge with a kind of gabled house mounted upon its deck. Its gopher wood timbers were blackened by a heavy coating of pitch and hardened by the petrification of the glacier which had kept it vi　

　　　　This story takes place in an America whose history is often similar to, but often quite different from our own. You should not assume that the portrayal in this book of a person who shares a name with a figure from American history is an accurate portrayal of that historical figure. In particular, you should be aware that William Henry Harrison, famed in our own history for having the briefest presidency and for his unforgettable election slogan "Tippecanoe and Tyler too," was a somewhat nicer person than his counterpart in this book.　　My thanks to Carol Breakstone for American Indian lor　

　　　In what felt to him like the first cold morning of the world, he groped for fire.　　　It was a high place where he searched, a lifeless, wind-scoured place, a rough, forbidding shelf of black and splintered rock. Snow, driven by squalls of frigid air, streamed across the black rock in white powder, making shifting veils of white over layers of gray ancient ice that was almost as hard as the rock itself. Dawn was in the sky, but still hundreds of kilometers away, as distant as the tiny sawteeth of the horizon to the northwest. The snowfields and icefields along that far edge of the world were　

380 BCGORGIASby Platotranslated by Benjamin JowettGORGIASPERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: CALLICLES; SOCRATES; CHAEREPHON; GORGIAS; POLUS Scene: The house of Callicles.Callicles. The wise man, as the proverb says, is late for a fray, but not for a feast. Socrates. And are we late for a feast? Cal. Yes, and a delightful feast; for Gorgias has just been exhibiting to us many fine things. Soc. It is not my fault, Callicles; our friend Chaerephon is to blame; for he would keep us loitering in the Agora. Chaerephon. Never mind, Socrates; the misfortune of which I have been the cause I will also 　

Marie Antoinette And Her Sonby Louise MuhlbachBOOK I.CHAPTER I.A HAPPY QUEEN.It was the 13th of August, 1785. The queen, Marie Antoinette, had atlast yielded to the requests and protestations of her dear subjects.She had left her fair Versailles and loved Trianon for one day, andhad gone to Paris, in order to exhibit herself and the young princewhom she had borne to the king and the country on the 25th of March,and to receive in the cathedral of Notre Dame the blessing of theclergy and the good wishes of the Parisians.She had had an enthusiastic reception, this beautiful and much loved...　

The Uncommercial Travellerby Charles DickensCHAPTER I - HIS GENERAL LINE OF BUSINESSAllow me to introduce myself - first negatively.No landlord is my friend and brother, no chambermaid loves me, nowaiter worships me, no boots admires and envies me. No round ofbeef or tongue or ham is expressly cooked for me, no pigeon-pie isespecially made for me, no hotel-advertisement is personallyaddressed to me, no hotel-room tapestried with great-coats andrailway wrappers is set apart for me, no house of publicentertainment in the United Kingdom greatly cares for my opinion of...　

THE COMPLEAT ANGLERTHE COMPLEATANGLERIZAAK WALTON1- Page 2-THE COMPLEAT ANGLERTo the Right worshipfulJohn Offleyof Madeley Manor, in the County of Stafford Esquire, My mosthonoured FriendSir, I have made so ill use of your former favours, as by them to beencouraged to entreat, that they may be enlarged to the patronage and...　

THE COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUSWITH AGIS AND CLEOMENESby Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenHAVING given an account severally of these persons, it remainsonly that we should take a view of them in comparison with oneanother.As for the Gracchi, the greatest detractors and their worstenemies could not but allow that they had a genius to virtue beyondall other Romans, which was improved also by a generous education.Agis and Cleomenes may be supposed to have had stronger natural gifts,...　

1781THE CRITIQUE OF PURE REASONby Immanuel Kanttranslated by J. M. D. MeiklejohnPREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, 1781Human reason, in one sphere of its cognition, is called upon toconsider questions, which it cannot decline, as they are presentedby its own nature, but which it cannot answer, as they transcend everyfaculty of the mind.It falls into this difficulty without any fault of its own. Itbegins with principles, which cannot be dispensed with in the field of...　

BeowulfAnonymousTranlated by GummereBEOWULFPRELUDE OF THE FOUNDER OF THE DANISH HOUSELO, praise of the prowess of people-kingsof spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,awing the earls. Since erst he layfriendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,till before him the folk, both far and near,who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,gave him gifts: a good king he!...　

Autobiography and Selected Essaysby Thomas Henry HuxleyEdited, with introduction and notes by Ada L. F. SnellAssociate Professor Of EnglishMount Holyoke CollegeCONTENTSPREFACEINTRODUCTIONThe Life of HuxleySubject-matter, Structure, and Style of EssaysSuggested StudiesAUTOBIOGRAPHYON IMPROVING NATURAL KNOWLEDGEA LIBERAL EDUCATIONON A PIECE OF CHALKTHE PRINCIPAL SUBJECTS OF EDUCATIONTHE METHOD OF SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONON THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF LIFE...　

THE SKETCH BOOKRURAL LIFE IN ENGLANDby Washington IrvingOh! friendly to the best pursuits of man,Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,Domestic life in rural pleasures past!COWPER.THE stranger who would form a correct opinion of the Englishcharacter must not confine his observations to the metropolis. He mustgo forth into the country; he must sojourn in villages and hamlets; he...　

BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIESBUTTERCUP GOLDAND OTHER STORIESEllen Robena Field1- Page 2-BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIESThe Little New YearOne cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams and sat up in bedand listened. He thought he heard a knock at his window; but though themoon was shining brightly, Jack Frost had been so busily at work thatMaurice could not see through the thickly painted panes. So he crept...