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The Gentle Grafter

By: O. Henry

Excerpt: I. THE OCTOPUS MAROONED. ?A trust is its weakest point,? said Jeff Peters. ?That,? said I, ?sounds like one of those unintelligible remarks such as, ?Why is a policeman??? ?It is not,? said Jeff. ?There are no relations between a trust and a policeman. My remark was an epitogram ? an axis ? a kind of mulct'em in parvo. What it means is that a trust is like an egg, and it is not like an egg. If you want to break an egg you have to do it from the outside. The only...

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The Defenders of Democracy

Excerpt: Dedication. To our sailors, soldiers, and nurses in appreciation of their heroism and sacrifice in the cause of Liberty and Democracy. ?Oh, land of ours be glad of such as these.? Theodosia Garrison. ?To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything that we are, and everything that we have, with the pride of those who know that the day has come when America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth...

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Stories of a Western Town

By: Octave Thanet

There was a drabble of dead leaves on the sidewalk which was of wood, and on the roadway which was of macadam and stiff mud. The wind blew sharply, for it was a December day and only six in the morning. Nor were the houses high enough to furnish any independent bulwark; they were low, wooden dwellings, the tallest a bare two stories in height, the majority only one story. But they were in good painting and repair, and most of them had a homely gayety of geraniums or bouv...

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Varney the Vampire; Or, The Feast of Blood, Volume I

By: Thomas Preskett Prest

Excerpt: THE solemn tones of an old cathedral clock have announced midnight ? the air is thick and heavy ? a strange, death like stillness pervades all nature. Like the ominous calm which precedes some more than usually terrific outbreak of the elements, they seem to have paused even in their ordinary fluctuations, to gather a terrific strength for the great effort. A faint peal of thunder now comes from far off. Like a signal gun for the battle of the winds to begin, it...

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Wakefield

By: Nathaniel Hawthorne

In some old magazine or newspaper, I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time, from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly is not very uncommon, nor—without a proper distinction of circumstances—to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance, on record, of marital delinquency; and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may ...

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Anger as a Primary Emotion, And the Application of Freudian Mechan...

By: G. Stanley Hall

Excerpt: I. Anger has many modes of Verschiebung, both instinctive and cultivated. One case in our returns carries a bit of wood in his vest?pocket and bites it when he begins to feel the aura of temper. Girls often play the piano loudly, and some think best of all. One plays a particular piece to divert anger, viz., the ?Devil?s Sonata.? A man goes down cellar and saws wood, which he keeps for such occasions. A boy pounds a resonant eavespout. One throws a heavy stone a...

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Amadis

By: Philippe Quinault

Excerpt: Pleasures will follow us henceforth, We are going to see our desires fulfilled. Let?s live without alarms. Let?s all live in peace. Return, resume all your charms, Innocent games return forever. It?s time that the vermilion dawn Gives place to the sun which marches at her heels. Everything sparkles down here, It?s time for each one to awaken. Love doesn't sleep, All sense its allures. The lovable zephyr Sighs for Flora. On such a beautiful day, All speak of love.

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The Black Spot

By: Kenneth Robeson

Excerpt: ANDREW PODREY VANDERSLEEVE had guests in his Westchester mansion. Guests in strange garb. Grotesque guests in exclusive Westchester hills. Their conduct was as incongruous as their queer clothing. Andrew Podrey Vandersleeve was not perturbed by all this. For the master of several millions was very dead. He sat at his ornate mahogany desk with his arms sprawled. Blood black as ink had flowed from his aristocratic veins. The Vandersleeve guests enjoyed themselves ...

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The History of Mr. Polly

By: Herbert George Wells

Excerpt: Chapter the First. Beginnings, and the Bazaar. I. ?Hole!? said Mr. Polly, and then for a change, and with greatly increased emphasis: ?Ole!? He paused, and then broke out with one of his private and peculiar idioms. ?Oh! Beastly Silly Wheeze of a Hole!? He was sitting on a stile between two threadbare looking fields, and suffering acutely from indigestion. He suffered from indigestion now nearly every afternoon in his life, but as he lacked introspection he proj...

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L'Homme Aux Quarante Ecus

By: Voltaire

Excerpt: Un vieillard, qui toujours plaint le present et vante le passe, me disait : ?Mon ami, la France n'est pas aussi riche qu'elle l'a ete sous Henri IV. Pourquoi? C'est que les terres ne sont pas si bien cultivees; c'est que les hommes manquent a la terre, et que le journalier ayant encheri son travail, plusieurs colons laissent leurs heritages en friche.

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Arnobius against the Heathen, V3

Excerpt: Let us now return to the order from which we were a little ago compelled to diverge, that our defence may not, through its being too long broken off, be said to have given our detractors cause to triumph in the establishing of their charge. For they propose these questions: If you are in earnest about religion, why do you not serve and worship the other gods with us, or share your sacred rites with your fellows, and put the ceremonies of the different religions ...

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Poems of Paul Verlaine

By: Paul Verlaine

Excerpt: A LA PROMENADE. The milky sky, the hazy, slender trees, Seem smiling on the light costumes we wear,? Our gauzy floating veils that have an air Of wings, our satins fluttering in the breeze. And in the marble bowl the ripples gleam, And through the lindens of the avenue The sifted golden sun comes to us blue And dying, like the sunshine of a dream. Exquisite triflers and deceivers rare, Tender of heart, but little tied by vows, Deliciously we dally ?neath the bou...

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The Mountain Monster

By: Kenneth Robeson

Excerpt: ?The MONSTER? came without warning. It came as Indian legend had said it would come, in the night and while a storm raged. It brought terror and horror to peaceful Arcadia Valley. It transformed an Alaskan paradise into a panic?stricken, fear?blanched hell. Arcadia Valley had been chosen as the site for one of the government?s settlement projects. The land was fertile, water was plentiful. Cabins sprang up swiftly as modern pioneers saw realization of long?cheri...

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The Dream of a Ridiculous Man

By: Fyodor Dostoevsky

Excerpt: I am a ridiculous person. Now they call me a madman. That would be a promotion if it were not that I remain as ridiculous in their eyes as before. But now I do not resent it, they are all dear to me now, even when they laugh at me?and, indeed, it is just then that they are particularly dear to me. I could join in their laughter?not exactly at myself, but through affection for them, if I did not feel so sad as I look at them. Sad because they do not know the trut...

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Metropolis

By: Thea Von Harbou

Excerpt: Chapter One. NOW The RUMBLING of the great organ swelled to a roar, pressing, like a rising giant, against the vaulted ceiling, to burst through it. Freder bent his head backwards, his wide?open, burning eyes stared unseeingly upward. His hands formed music from the chaos of the notes; struggling with the vibration of the sound and stirring him to his innermost depths. He was never so near tears in his life and, blissfully helpless, he yielded himself up to the ...

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Lettre a Lempereur Alexandre sur la Traite des Noirs

By: William Wilberforce

Excerpt: Lorsque Votre Majeste apposait son nom a la memorable declaration promulguee, au sujet de la Traite des Noirs, par les Souverains assembles au Congres de Vienne ?

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The Mystery of the Steel Disk

By: Broughton Brandenburg

Excerpt: ?T'is is Mr. Martin Anderson of 196 Gramercy Park. Yust now while I was eating my breakwast in my rooms over my real estate office, I was called to my telephone by Mr. George Rhodes, who is in t'e Municipal Bank.

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Don Quixote

By: Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

These days past, when sending Your Excellency my plays, that had appeared in print before being shown on the stage, I said, if I remember well, that Don Quixote was putting on his spurs to go and render homage to Your Excellency. Now I say that with his spurs, he is on his way. Should he reach destination methinks I shall have rendered some service to Your Excellency, as from many parts I am urged to send him off, so as to dispel the loathing and disgust caused by anothe...

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Legends of Vancouver

By: E. Pauline Johnson

Preface: I have been asked to write a preface to these Legends of Vancouver, which, in conjunction with the members of the Publication Sub?committee ? Mrs. Lefevre, Mr. L. W. Makovski and Mr. R. W. Douglas ? I have helped to put through the press. But scarcely any prefatory remarks are necessary. This book may well stand on its own merits. Still, it may be permissible to record one?s glad satisfaction that a poet has arisen to cast over the shoulders of our grey mountain...

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The Werewolf

By: Clemence Housman

Excerpt: THE great farm hall was ablaze with the fire?light, and noisy with laughter and talk and many?sounding work. None could be idle but the very young and the very old ? little Rol, who was hugging a puppy, and old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm servants had comein from the outdoor work and assembled in the ample hall, which had space for scores of workers. Several of the men were engaged in carvin...

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