The Twins of Table Mountainby Bret HarteCONTENTSI. THE TWINS OF TABLE MOUNTAINII. AN HEIRESS OF RED DOGIII. THE GREAT DEADWOOD MYSTERYIV. A LEGEND OF SAMMTSTADTV. VIEWS FROM A GERMAN SPIONTHE TWINS OF TABLE MOUNTAIN.CHAPTER I.A CLOUD ON THE MOUNTAIN.They lived on the verge of a vast stony level, upheaved so farabove the surrounding country that its vague outlines, viewed fromthe nearest valley, seemed a mere cloud-streak resting upon thelesser hills. The rush and roar of the turbulent river that washed...　

Deruesby Alexandre Dumas, PereOne September afternoon in 1751, towards half-past five, about a score of small boys, chattering, pushing, and tumbling over one another like a covey of partridges, issued from one of the religious schools of Chartres. The joy of the little troop just escaped from a long and wearisome captivity was doubly great: a slight accident to one of the teachers had caused the class to be dismissed half an hour earlier than usual, and in consequence of the extra work thrown on the teaching staff the brother whose duty it was to see all the scholars safe home was compelled　

The Club of Queer Tradesby G.K.ChestertonChapter 1The Tremendous Adventures of Major BrownRabelais, or his wild illustrator Gustave Dore, must have had something to do with the designing of the things called flats in England and America. There is something entirely Gargantuan in the idea of economising space by piling houses on top of each other, front doors and all. And in the chaos and complexity of those perpendicular streets anything may dwell or happen, and it is in one of them, I believe, that the inquirer may find the offices of the Club of Queer Trades. It may be thought at the first 　

My Discovery of Englandby Leacock, StephenIntroduction of Mr. Stephen Leacock Given by Sir Owen Seaman on the Occasion of His First Lecture in LondonLADIES AND GENTLEMEN: It is usual on these occasions for the chairman to begin something like this: "The lecturer, I am sure, needs no introduction from me." And indeed, when I have been the lecturer and somebody else has been the chairman, I have more than once suspected myself of being the better man of the two. Of course I hope I should always have the good mannersI am sure Mr. Leacock hasto disguise that suspicion. However, one has to go thr　

The Peterkin Papers By Lucretia P. HaleMrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee.Dedicated To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) To Whom These Stories Were First ToldThe Peterkin Papers By Lucretia P. HalePreface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin PapersTHE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for the "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in numbers of the "St. Nicholas."A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never before been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm."It may be remembered that the Peterkins originall　

A MATTER OF MILLIONS　　THE Clipper smacked the blue of Biscayne Bay and settled into a lazy squat, from which it taxied toward a landing. An audible sigh of relief came from the roped-off crowd that lined the shore of Dinner Key. Little wonder that the sigh was heard, for the throng was immense.　　Seldom did the population of Miami, citizen and tourist, assemble en masse at the Marine Airways Base to witness the arrival of a Clipper plane. But the winged ship just in from the Caribbean was worthy of a huge turnout. Not only because its passengers were something of celebrities, but because of　

Dorothy and the Wizard in Ozby L. Frank BaumA Faithful Record of Their Amazing Adventuresin an Underground World; and How with theAid of Their Friends Zeb Hugson, Eurekathe Kitten, and Jim the Cab-Horse,They Finally Reached theWonderful Landof Ozby L. Frank Baum"Royal Historian of Oz"To My Readers1. The Earthquake2. The Glass City3. The Arrival of the Wizard4. The Vegetable Kingdom5. Dorothy Picks the Princess6. The Mangaboos Prove Dangerous...　

Castle Rackrentby Maria EdgeworthWith an Introduction by Anne Thackeray RitchieINTRODUCTIONIThe story of the Edgeworth Family, if it were properly told, should be as long as the ARABIAN NIGHTS themselves; the thousand and one cheerful intelligent members of the circle, the amusing friends and relations, the charming surroundings, the cheerful hospitable home, all go to make up an almost unique history of a county family of great parts and no little character. The Edgeworths were people of good means and position, and their rental, we are told, amounted to nearly L3000 a year. At one time th　

AN ACCOUNT OF EGYPTAN ACCOUNT OFEGYPTBy Herodotus1- Page 2-AN ACCOUNT OF EGYPTNOTEHERODOTUS was born at Halicarnassus, on the southwest coast ofAsia Minor, in the early part of the fifth century, B. C. Of his life we knowalmost nothing, except that he spent much of it traveling, to collect thematerial for his writings, and that he finally settled down at Thurii, in...　

The Land of the Changing Sunby William N. HarbenChapter I.The balloon seemed scarcely to move, though it was slowly sinking toward the ocean of white clouds which hung between it and the earth.The two inmates of the car were insensible; their faces were bloodless, their cheeks sunken. They were both young and handsome. Harry Johnston, an American, was as dark and sallow as a Spaniard. Charles Thorndyke, an English gentleman, had yellow hair and mustache, blue eyes and a fine intellectual face. Both were tall, athletic in build and well-proportioned.Johnston was the first to come to consciousn　

Cliges: A Romanceby Chretien de TroyesTRANSLATED BY L. J. GARDINER, M.A.FROM THE OLD FRENCH OF CHRETIEN DE TROYESINTRODUCTIONIT is six hundred and fifty years since Chretien de Troyes wrotehis Cliges. And yet he is wonderfully near us, whereas he isseparated by a great gulf from the rude trouveres of the Chansonsde Gestes and from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which was stilldragging out its weary length in his early days. Chretien is asrefined, as civilised, as composite as we are ourselves; hisladies are as full of whims, impulses, sudden reserves,...　

The Flying U Ranchby B. M. BowerCONTENTSCHAPTERI. The Coming of a Native SonII. "When Greek Meets Greek"III. Bad NewsIV. Some HopesV. SheepVI. What Happened to AndyVII. Truth Crushed to Earth, etc.VIII. The Dot OutfitIX. More SheepX. The Happy Family Herd SheepXI. Weary UnburdensXII. Two of a KindXIII. The Happy Family Learn SomethingXIV. Happy JackXV. OlesonXVI. The End of the DotsXVII. Good NewsFLYING U RANCHCHAPTER I. The Coming of a Native Son...　

The Paths of Inland Commerce, A Chronicle of Trail, Road, and WaterwayBy Archer B. HulbertPREFACEIf the great American novel is ever written, I hazard the guess that its plot will be woven around the theme of American transportation, for that has been the vital factor in the national development of the United States. Every problem in the building of the Republic has been, in the last analysis, a problem in transportation. The author of such a novel will find a rich fund of material in the perpetual rivalries of pack-horseman and wagoner, of riverman and canal boatman, of steamboat promoter an　

Letters to His Son, 1748by Lord ChesterfieldLETTERS TO HIS SONBy the EARL OF CHESTERFIELDon the Fine Art of becoming aMAN OF THE WORLDand aGENTLEMANLETTER XXIVJanuary 2, O. S. 1748.DEAR BOY: I am edified with the allotment of your time at Leipsig; which is so well employed from morning till night, that a fool would say you had none left for yourself; whereas, I am sure you have sense enough to know, that such a right use of your time is having it all to yourself; nay, it is even more, for it is laying it out to immense interest, which, in a very few years, will amount to a prodigious capital　

　　I am a vampire. Blood does not bother me. I like blood. Even seeing my own blood does not frighten me. But what my blood can do to others-to the whole world for that matter-terrifies me. Once God made me take a vow to create no more vampires. Once I believed in God. But my belief, like my vow, has been shattered too many times in my long life. I am Alisa Perne, the now-forgotten Sita, child of a demon. I am the oldest living creature on earth.　　I awake in a living room smelling of death. I watch as my blood trickles through a thin plastic tube into the arm of Special Agent Joel Drake, FBI. 　

The Turn of the Screwby Henry JamesThe story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless,but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on ChristmasEve in an old house, a strange tale should essentially be,I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that itwas the only case he had met in which such a visitation had fallenon a child. The case, I may mention, was that of an apparitionin just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasionan appearance, of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping...