Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:15

Excerpt #1, from A Princess of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs

…whenever you have been off duty one of the older women of Tars Tarkas’ retinue has always arranged to trump up some excuse to get Sola and me out of sight. They have had me down in the pits below the buildings helping them mix their awful radium powder, and make their terrible projectiles. You know that these have to be manufactured by artificial light, as exposure to sunlight always results in an explosion. You have noticed that their bullets explode when they strike an object? Well, the opaque, outer coating is broken by the impact, exposing a glass cylinder, almost solid, in the forward end of which is a minute particle of radium powder. The moment the sunlight, even though diffused, strikes this powder it explodes with a violence which nothing can withstand. If you ever witness a night battle you will note the absence of these explosions, while the morning following the battle will be filled at sunrise with the sharp detonations of exploding missiles fired the preceding night. As a rule, however, non-exploding projectiles are used at night.”[1] [1] I have used the word radium in describing this powder because in the light of recent discoveries on Earth I believe it to be a mixture of which radium is the base. In Captain Carter’s manuscript it is mentioned always by the name used in the written language of Helium and is spelled in hieroglyphics which it would be difficult and…

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Excerpt #2, from Tales of the Air Mail Pilots, by Burt M. McConnell

…town, that Pilot Vance was forced down by a blizzard at nightfall, and unceremoniously dumped out on his head when his machine tipped over on its nose. He had landed in a patch of manzanita brush, higher than he could reach, and there he was forced to stay until daylight came. Blanchfield, another pilot, was caught in the grip of a “twister” peculiar to the Nevada desert, on one occasion, and also had a narrow escape from death when his plane broke out in flames as he landed at the Elko Air Mail field. Once, with the thermometer at 60° below zero, he made a flight of 235 miles through blinding sheets of snow to deliver the mail. When Blanchfield finally landed at Reno, looking more like a huge snowman than a human being, the cockpit of his machine was almost full of snow and the pilot himself seemed to be frozen to his seat. On still another occasion, while flying in a blizzard, Blanchfield was forced to land on the snow-covered desert. After a five-hour search, the pilot came upon the shack of a wrinkled old Indian, who shoved a rifle in this “sky-devil’s” face and refused point-blank to help him crank the motor of his machine. In the Utah-Wyoming Bad Lands, between Salt Lake City and Rock Springs, occurred the forced landing of Pilot Bishop, which would have terminated fatally had it not been for the exceptional bravery and good flying judgment of Ellis. It was in this section of the country…

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Excerpt #3, from Raw Gold: A Novel, by Bertrand W. Sinclair

…we turned the corner of a rambling log house, which, from its pretentiousness, I judged must house some Mounted Police dignitary, we came face to face with a tall, keen-featured man in Police uniform, and a girl. Even though Rutter had declared she would be at Walsh, I wasn’t prepared to believe it was Lyn Rowan. Sometimes five years will work a wonderful change in a woman; or is it that time and distance work some subtle transition in one’s recollection? She didn’t give me much time to indulge in guesswork, though. While I wondered, for an instant, if there could by any possibility be another woman on God’s footstool with quite the same tilt to her head, the same heavy coils of tawny hair and unfathomable eyes that always met your own so frankly, she recognized the pair of us; though MacRae in uniform must have puzzled her for an instant. “Gordon–and Sarge Flood! Where in the world did you come from? And–and—-” She stopped rather suddenly, a bit embarrassed. I knew just as well as if she had spoken the words, that she had been on the point of asking him what he was doing in the yellow-striped breeches and scarlet jacket of a Mounted Policeman. Whatever had parted them, she hadn’t held it against him. There was an indefinable something in the way she spoke his name and looked at him that told me there was still a soft spot in her heart for the high-headed beggar by my side….

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Excerpt #4, from Mr. Dooley in Peace and in War, by Finley Peter Dunne

…iv risolution on his face; an’ whin he left me, he says, says he, ‘Dooley,’ he says, ‘I’ll conquir, or I’ll die,’ he says. “It’s been comin f’r months, but it on’y bust oh Donahue las’ week. He’d come home at night tired out, an’ afther supper he was pullin’ off his boots, whin Mollie an’ th’ mother begun talkin’ about th’ rights iv females. ‘’Tis th’ era iv th’ new woman,’ says Mollie. ‘Ye’re right,’ says th’ mother. ‘What d’ye mean be the new woman?’ says Donahue, holdin’ his boot in his hand. ‘Th’ new woman,’ says Mollie, ‘’ll be free fr’m th’ opprision iv man,’ she says. ‘She’ll wurruk out her own way, without help or hinderance,’ she says. She’ll wear what clothes she wants,’ she says, ‘an’ she’ll be no man’s slave,’ she says. ‘They’ll be no such thing as givin’ a girl in marredge to a clown an’ makin’ her dipindant on his whims,’ she says. ‘Th’ women’ll earn their own livin’,’ she says; ‘an’ mebbe,’ she says, ‘th’ men’ll stay at home an’ dredge in th’ house wurruk,’ she says. ‘A-ho,’ says Donahue. ‘An’ that’s th’ new woman, is it?’ he says. An’ he said no more that night.”But th’ nex’ mornin’ Mrs. Donahue an’ Mollie come to his dure. ‘Get up,’ says Mrs. Donahue, ‘an’ bring in some coal,’ she says. ‘Ye drowsy man, ye’ll be late f’r ye’er wurruk.’ ‘Divvle th’ bit iv coal I’ll fetch,’ says Donahue. ‘Go away an’ lave me alone,’ he says. ‘Ye’re inthruptin’ me dreams.’ ‘What ails ye, man alive?’ says Mrs. Donahue….

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Excerpt #5, from Essays, by Ralph Waldo Emerson, by Ralph Waldo Emerson

…circles proceeds, the eternal generator abides. That central life is somewhat superior to creation, superior to knowledge and thought, and contains all its circles. For ever it labors to create a life and thought as large and excellent as itself; but in vain; for that which is made instructs how to make a better. Thus there is no sleep, no pause, no preservation, but all things renew, germinate and spring. Why should we import rags and relics into the new hour? Nature abhors the old, and old age seems the only disease: all others run into this one. We call it by many names,–fever, intemperance, insanity, stupidity and crime: they are all forms of old age: they are rest, conservatism, appropriation, inertia; not newness, not the way onward. We grizzle every day. I see no need of it. Whilst we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young. Infancy, youth, receptive, aspiring, with religious eye looking upward, counts itself nothing and abandons itself to the instruction flowing from all sides. But the man and woman of seventy assume to know all; throw up their hope; renounce aspiration; accept the actual for the necessary and talk down to the young. Let them then become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth; and their eyes are uplifted, their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. This…

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Excerpt #6, from Caesar and Cleopatra, by Bernard Shaw

…Thrust your knife into the dog’s throat, Apollodorus. (The chivalrous Apollodorus laughingly shakes his head; breaks ground away from the sentinel towards the palace; and lowers his point.) SENTINEL (struggling vainly). Curse on you! Let me go. Help ho! FTATATEETA (lifting him from the ground). Stab the little Roman reptile. Spit him on your sword. A couple of Roman soldiers, with a centurion, come running along the edge of the quay from the north end. They rescue their comrade, and throw off Ftatateeta, who is sent reeling away on the left hand of the sentinel. CENTURION (an unattractive man of fifty, short in his speech and manners, with a vine wood cudgel in his hand). How now? What is all this? FTATATEETA (to Apollodorus). Why did you not stab him? There was time! APOLLODORUS. Centurion: I am here by order of the Queen to—- CENTURION (interrupting him). The Queen! Yes, yes: (to the sentinel) pass him in. Pass all these bazaar people in to the Queen, with their goods. But mind you pass no one out that you have not passed in–not even the Queen herself. SENTINEL. This old woman is dangerous: she is as strong as three men….

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Excerpt #7, from Word Portraits of Famous Writers, by Mabel E. Wotton

…admirably portrayed in Bleak House, still at first strikes every stranger,–for twenty-two years have not materially changed him,–no less than his perfect frankness and reckless indifference to what he says.”–1830. [Sidenote: S. C. Hall’s Retrospect of a Long Life.] “… He was at that time sixty years of age, although he did not look so old; his form and features were essentially masculine; he was not tall, but stalwart; of a robust constitution, and was proud even to arrogance of his physical and intellectual strength. He was a man to whom passers-by would have looked back and asked, ‘Who is that?’ His forehead was high, but retreated, showing remarkable absence of the organs of benevolence and veneration. It was a large head, fullest at the back, where the animal propensities predominate; it was a powerful, but not a good head, the expression the opposite of genial. In short, physiognomists and phrenologists would have selected it,–each to illustrate his theory.”–1836. [Sidenote: Harriet Martineau’s Biographical Sketches.] “His tall, broad, muscular, active frame was characteristic, and so was his head, with the strange elevation of the eyebrows which expresses self-will as strongly in some cases as astonishment in others. Those eyebrows, mounting up until they comprehend a good portion of the…

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Excerpt #8, from The Naval War of 1812, by Theodore Roosevelt

…manned by Canadians, and James, anxious to put the blame on these rather than the British, says that they acted in the most cowardly way, whereas in reality they caused the Americans more trouble than Downie’s smaller sailing vessels did. His account of the armament of these vessels differs widely from the official reports. He gives the Linnet and Chubb a smaller number of men than the number of prisoners that were actually taken out of them, not including the dead. Even misstating Downie’s force in guns, underestimating the number of his men, and leaving out two of his gun-boats, did not content James; and to make the figures show a proper disproportion, he says (vol. vi, p. 504) that he shall exclude the Finch from the estimate, because she grounded, and half of the gun-boats, because he does not think they acted bravely. Even were these assertions true, it would be quite as logical for an American writer to put the Chesapeake’s crew down as only 200, and say he should exclude the other men from the estimate because they flinched; and to exclude all the guns that were disabled by shot, would be no worse than to exclude the Finch. James’ manipulation of the figures is a really curious piece of audacity. Naturally, subsequent British historians have followed him without inquiry. James’ account of this battle, alone, amply justifies…

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Excerpt #9, from The Moon: considered as a planet, a world, and a satellite., by James Carpenter et al.

…experiment for those to try who pursue that branch of astronomical observation. A merely cursory examination of the moon with the low power to which we have alluded is sufficient to show us the more salient features. In the first place we cannot help being struck with the immense preponderance of circular or craterform asperities, and with the general tendency to circular shape which is apparent in nearly all the lunar surface markings; for even the larger regions known as the “seas” and the smaller patches of the same character seem to repeat in their outlines the round form of the craters. It is at the boundary of sunlight on the lunar globe that we see these craterform spots to the best advantage, as it is there that the rising or setting sun casts long shadows over the lunar landscape, and brings elevations and asperities into bold relief. They vary greatly in size, some are so large as to bear an estimable proportion to the moon’s diameter, and the smallest are so minute as to need the most powerful telescopes and the finest conditions of atmosphere to perceive them. It is doubtful whether the smallest of them have ever been seen, for there is no reason to doubt that there exist countless numbers that are beyond the revealing powers of our finest telescopes. From the great number and persistent character of these…

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Excerpt #10, from The Submarine Hunters: A Story of the Naval Patrol Work in the Great War

…burning. The reflected rays were just sufficient to enable him to take stock of his surroundings. No, he was not back in the school dormitory. True, he had a headache, but that would not account for the actual motion. He fumbled, his fingers came in contact with a curved board that served to prevent the occupant of the bed–or, rather, bunk–from falling on the floor. Almost mechanically he rolled out, and stood supporting himself by grasping the ledge of the bunk. The swaying, due partly to dizziness and partly to an unaccountable see-saw motion, would have thrown him to the floor but for the assistance afforded by the side of the bunk. Gradually he became aware that there was a similar sleeping-place immediately beneath the one he had been occupying. Someone was lying there, breathing heavily. There was sufficient light for Ross to recognize him. It was his chum Vernon. Just then a bell clanged noisily. The sound of running water was outvoiced by the loud din of machinery in motion. A wave of hot air that reminded the lad of the atmosphere of a Tube station wafted past him. The whole fabric trembled under the powerful pulsations of the mechanism. With his legs trembling through sheer physical weakness, Ross hung on grimly. He wanted to shout, but no sound came from his parched tongue….

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Excerpt #11, from A Parody Outline of History, by Donald Ogden Stewart

…The pilgrims disembark. II Plymouth. A year later. Night. She lay sleepless on her bed. She heard the outside door open; Kennicott returning from prayer meeting. He sat down on the bed and began pulling off his boots. She knew that the left boot would stick. She knew exactly what he would say and how long it would take him to get it off. She rolled over in bed, a tactical movement which left no blanket for her husband. “You weren’t at prayer meeting,” he said. “I had a headache,” she lied. He expressed no sympathy. “Miles Standish was telling me what you did today at the meeting of the Jolly Seventeen.” He had got the boot off at last; he lay down beside her and pulled all the blankets off her onto himself. “That was kind of Miles.” She jerked at the covers but he held them tight. “What charming story did he tell this time?” "Now look here, Prissie–Miles Standish isn’t given to fabrication. He said you told the Jolly Seventeen that next Thanksgiving they ought to…

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Excerpt #12, from Argot and Slang, by Albert Barrère

…=DUBOIS=, Rêves de Vieillesse ou le Départ de Pipelet. PIPELETTE, f. (general), the wife of a concierge or doorkeeper. Termed also Madame Pipelet. See PIPELET. Vous n’connaissez pas ma concierge, La nommée Madam’ Benoiton, Une grand’ sèch’ longu’ comm’ un cierge Et sourd’ comm’ un bonnet d’coton. Si malheureus’ment j’m’attarde, C’est l’diable pour la réveiller. Pendant deux heur’s je mont’ la garde, D’vant la porte et j’ai beau crier: Ous-qu’est ma pip’, ous-qu’est ma pip’, ous-qu’est ma pip’lette? =A. BEN ET H. D’HERVILLE.= PIPER (familiar and popular), to smoke, or “to blow a cloud.” Il me semble qu’on a pipé ici.–=GAVARNI.= (Thieves’) Piper, to catch. Comprend-on après cela qu’un homme qui changeait si fréquemment de nom … ait été se loger … sous le nom de Mahossier qui lui avait servi à piper sa victime?–=CANLER.= Piper un pègre, to apprehend a thief, “to smug a prig.” The different…

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