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 　

IBill never realized that sex was the cause of it all. If the sun that morning had not been burning so warmly in the brassy sky of Phigerinadon II, and if he had not glimpsed the sugar-white and wine-barrel-wide backside of Inga-Maria Calyphigia, while she bathed in the stream, he might have paid more attention to his plowing than to the burning pressures of heterosexuality and would have driven his furrow to the far side of the hill before the seductive music sounded along the road. He might never have heard it, and his life would have been very, very different. But he did hear it and droppe　

　　The story is based on a screen treatment by K. McClory, J. Whittingham, and the author.　　1. "Take It Easy, Mr. Bond"　　It was one of those days when it seemed to James Bond that all life, as someone put it, was nothing but a heap of six to four against.　　To begin with he was ashamed of himself-a rare state of mind. He had a hangover, a bad one, with an aching head and stiff joints. When he coughed-smoking too much goes with drinking too much and doubles the hangover-a cloud of small luminous black spots swam across his vision like amoebae in pond water. The one drink too many signals itself 　

The Red House Mysteryby A.A. Milne1The Red House MysteryTO JOHN VINE MILNE MY DEAR FATHER,Like all really nice people, you have a weakness for detective stories,and feel that there are not enough of them. So, after all that you havedone for me, the least that I can do for you is to write you one. Here itis: with more gratitude and affection than I can well put down here.A.A.M.2The Red House MysteryCHAPTER IMrs. Stevens is FrightenedIn the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House wastaking its siesta. There was a lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders,...　

Men, Women and GhostsMen, Women andGhostsby Amy Lowell1- Page 2-Men, Women and GhostsPrefaceThis is a book of stories. For that reason I have excluded all purelylyrical poems. But the word "stories" has been stretched to its fullestapplication. It includes both narrative poems, properly so called; tales...　

A TALE OF THE TONTLAWALDLong, long ago there stood in the midst of a country covered withlakes a vast stretch of moorland called the Tontlawald, on whichno man ever dared set foot. From time to time a few bold spiritshad been drawn by curiosity to its borders, and on their returnhad reported that they had caught a glimpse of a ruined house ina grove of thick trees, and round about it were a crowd of beingsresembling men, swarming over the grass like bees. The men wereas dirty and ragged as gipsies, and there were besides a quantityof old women and half-naked children....　

Sword Blades and Poppy Seedby Amy LowellPrefaceNo one expects a man to make a chair without first learning how,but there is a popular impression that the poet is born, not made,and that his verses burst from his overflowing heart of themselves.As a matter of fact, the poet must learn his trade in the same manner,and with the same painstaking care, as the cabinet-maker.His heart may overflow with high thoughts and sparkling fancies,but if he cannot convey them to his reader by means of the written wordhe has no claim to be considered a poet. A workman may be pardoned,...　

She Stoops to Conquerby Oliver GoldsmithSHE STOOPS TO CONQUER;OR,THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT.A COMEDY.To SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.Dear Sir,By inscribing this slight performance to you, I do not mean so much to compliment you as myself. It may do me some honour to inform the public, that I have lived many years in intimacy with you. It may serve the interests of mankind also to inform them, that the greatest wit may be found in a character, without impairing the most unaffected piety.I have, particularly, reason to thank you for your partiality to this performance. The undertaking a comedy not mere　

Elinor Wyllysby Susan Fenimore CooperIN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II.EDITED BY J. FENIMORE COOPER.CHAPTER I {would be CHAPTER XXIV, if numbered from beginning of Vol. I}"But there is matter for another rhyme; And I to this would add another tale." WORDSWORTH."And how do Miss and Madam do; The little boy, and all? All tight and well? and how do you, Good Mr. What-do-you-call?" COWPER.{William Wordsworth (English poet, 1770-1850), "Poems of the Imagination: Hart-Leap Well" lines 95-96. William Cowper (English poet, 1731-1800), "The Yearly Distress, or, Tithing Time at Stock in Essex" lines 33-36}...　

THERE was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had beenwandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning;but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early)the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and arain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise was now out ofthe question.I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chillyafternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight,with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidingsof Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my.　

　Muir Sutherland and Malcolm Craddock, with many thanks　　CHAPTER 1　　It was funny, Richard Sharpe thought, that there were no vultures in England. None that he had seen, anyway. Ugly things they were. Rats with wings.　He thought about vultures a lot, and he had a lot of time to think because he was a soldier, a private, and so the army insisted on doing a lot of his thinking for him. The army decided when he woke up, when he slept, when he ate, when he marched, and when he was to sit about doing nothing and that was what he did most of the time - nothing. Hurry up and do nothing, that was the 　

Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennesby Robert Louis Stevenson.My Dear Sidney Colvin,The journey which this little book is to describe was veryagreeable and fortunate for me. After an uncouth beginning, I hadthe best of luck to the end. But we are all travellers in whatJohn Bunyan calls the wilderness of this world - all, too,travellers with a donkey: and the best that we find in our travelsis an honest friend. He is a fortunate voyager who finds many. Wetravel, indeed, to find them. They are the end and the reward of...　

The Story of Mankindby Hendrik van LoonTHE STORY OF MANKINDBY HENDRIK VAN LOON, PH.D.Professor of the Social Sciences in Antioch College.Author of The Fall of the Dutch Republic, The Rise of the DutchKingdom, The Golden Book of the Dutch Navigators,A Short Story of Discovery, Ancient Man.To JIMMIE``What is the use of a book without pictures?' said Alice.FOREWORDFor Hansje and Willem:WHEN I was twelve or thirteen years old, an uncle ofmine who gave me my love for books and pictures promised...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE PRINCESS AND THE PEAby Hans Christian AndersenONCE upon a time there was a prince who wanted to marry aprincess; but she would have to be a real princess. He travelled allover the world to find one, but nowhere could he get what he wanted.There were princesses enough, but it was difficult to find out whetherthey were real ones. There was always something about them that wasnot as it should be. So he came home again and was sad, for he wouldhave liked very much to have a real princess....　

THE SKETCH BOOKWESTMINSTER ABBEYby Washington IrvingWhen I behold, with deep astonishment,To famous Westminster how there resorteLiving in brasse or stoney monument,The princes and the worthies of all sorte;Doe not I see reformde nobilitie,Without contempt, or pride, or ostentation,And looke upon offenselesse majesty,Naked of pomp or earthly domination?And how a play-game of a painted stone...　

The Essays of Montaigne, V4by Michel de MontaigneTranslated by Charles CottonEdited by William Carew Hazilitt1877CONTENTS OF VOLUME 4.XXII. Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law receivedXXIII. Various events from the same counsel.XXIV. Of pedantry.CHAPTER XXIIOF CUSTOM, AND THAT WE SHOULD NOT EASILY CHANGE A LAW RECEIVEDHe seems to me to have had a right and true apprehension of the power ofcustom, who first invented the story of a country-woman who, havingaccustomed herself to play with and carry a young calf in her arms, and...