Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:20

Excerpt #1, from Sailing Alone Around the World, by Joshua Slocum

…talk the kind doctor came to me with words of approval. As in many other of my enterprises, I had gone about it at once and without second thought. “Man, man,” said he, “great nervousness is only a sign of brain, and the more brain a man has the longer it takes him to get over the affliction; but,” he added reflectively, “you will get over it.” However, in my own behalf I think it only fair to say that I am not yet entirely cured. The Spray was hauled out on the marine railway at Devonport and examined carefully top and bottom, but was found absolutely free from the destructive teredo, and sound in all respects. To protect her further against the ravage of these insects the bottom was coated once more with copper paint, for she would have to sail through the Coral and Arafura seas before refitting again. Everything was done to fit her for all the known dangers. But it was not without regret that I looked forward to the day of sailing from a country of so many pleasant associations. If there was a moment in my voyage when I could have given it up, it was there and then; but no vacancies for a better post being open, I weighed anchor April 16,1897, and again put to sea. The season of summer was then over; winter was rolling up from the south, with fair winds for the north. A foretaste of winter wind sent the Spray flying round Cape Howe and as far as Cape Bundooro farther…

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Excerpt #2, from Short Story Classics (American) Vol. 2, by William Patten

…of his doubts. “It was easy for me to give you daring advice then, Ralph,” she said. “Like most school-girls, I thought that life was a great and glorious thing, and that happiness was a fruit which hung within reach of every hand. Now I have lived for six years trying single-handed to relieve the want and suffering of the needy people with whom I come in contact, and their squalor and wretchedness have sickened me, and, what is still worse, I feel that all I can do is as a drop in the ocean, and, after all, amounts to nothing. I know I am no longer the same reckless girl who, with the very best intention, sent you wandering through the wide world; and I thank God that it proved to be for your good, although the whole now appears quite incredible to me. My thoughts have moved so long within the narrow circle of these mountains that they have lost their youthful elasticity, and can no more rise above them.” Ralph detected, in the midst of her despondency, a spark of her former fire, and grew eloquent in his endeavors to persuade her that she was unjust to herself, and that there was but a wider sphere of life needed to develop all the latent powers of her rich nature. At the dinner-table, her father again sat eying his guest with that same cold look of distrust and suspicion. And when the meal was at an end, he rose abruptly and called his daughter into another room….

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Excerpt #3, from Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain

…every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suited–this kind of thing was right in his line. He got to hanging around the widow’s too much and so she told him at last that if he didn’t quit using around there she would make trouble for him. Well, wasn’t he mad? He said he would show who was Huck Finn’s boss. So he watched out for me one day in the spring, and catched me, and took me up the river about three mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn’t no houses but an old log hut in a place where the timber was so thick you couldn’t find it if you didn’t know where it was. He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, and we fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little while he locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the ferry, and traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got drunk and had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where I was by and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me; but pap drove him off with the gun, and it warn’t long after that till I was used to being where I was, and liked it–all but the cowhide part. It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking…

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Excerpt #4, from War and Peace, by graf Leo Tolstoy

…intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom you shall honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmeet in Masonry.” And after a pause, he added: “But beware, dear brother, that these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean.” While the Grand Master said these last words it seemed to Pierre that he grew embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, and an awkward pause followed. This silence was broken by one of the brethren, who led Pierre up to the rug and began reading to him from a manuscript book an explanation of all the figures on it: the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plumb line, a trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, and so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre, he was shown the signs of the Lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit down. The Grand Master began reading the statutes. They were very long, and Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in a state to understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the last words of the statutes and these remained in his mind. “In our temples we recognize no other distinctions,” read the Grand Master, “but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother’s aid…

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Excerpt #5, from A Christmas Carol in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Christmas, by Charles Dickens

…foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt, and leading by the bridle an ass laden with wood. “Why, it’s Ali Baba!” Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. “It’s dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes, I know! One Christmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here all alone, he did come, for the first time, just like that. Poor boy! And Valentine,” said Scrooge, “and his wild brother, Orson; there they go! And what’s his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep, at the Gate of Damascus; don’t you see him! And the Sultan’s Groom turned upside down by the Genii; there he is upon his head! Serve him right. I’m glad of it. What business had he to be married to the Princess!” To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excited face; would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city, indeed. “There’s the Parrot!” cried Scrooge. "Green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, he called…

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Excerpt #6, from A System of Logic, Ratiocinative and Inductive, by John Stuart Mill

…probability that they are connected is not measured by the total number of instances in which they have been found together, but by the excess of that number above the number due to the absolutely frequency of A. If, for example, A exists always, and therefore co-exists with every thing, no number of instances of its co-existence with B would prove a connection; as in our example of the fixed stars. If A be a fact of such common occurrence that it may be presumed to be present in half of all the cases that occur, and therefore in half the cases in which B occurs, it is only the proportional excess above half that is to be reckoned as evidence toward proving a connection between A and B. In addition to the question, What is the number of coincidences which, on an average of a great multitude of trials, may be expected to arise from chance alone? there is also another question, namely, Of what extent of deviation from that average is the occurrence credible, from chance alone, in some number of instances smaller than that required for striking a fair average? It is not only to be considered what is the general result of the chances in the long run, but also what are the extreme limits of variation from the general result, which may occasionally be expected as the result of some smaller number of instances. The consideration of the latter question, and any consideration of the…

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Excerpt #7, from James Nasmyth, Engineer: An Autobiography, by James Nasmyth

…added, “Now, then, copy that!” The patient youth set to work, and in a few evenings completed a perfect copy. It was a most severe test; but Runciman was so proud of the skill of his pupil that he had the drawing mounted and framed, with a note of the circumstances under which it had been produced. It continued to hang there for many years, and the story of its achievement became traditional in the school. During all this time my father remained in the employment of Crighton the carriage builder. He improved in his painting day by day. But at length an important change took place in his career. Allan Ramsay, son of the author of The Gentle Shepherd, and then court painter to George III., called upon his old friend Crighton one day, to look over his works. There he found young Nasmyth painting a coat of arms on the panel of a carriage. He was so much surprised with the lad’s artistic workmanship–for he was then only sixteen–that he formed a strong desire to take him into his service. After much persuasion, backed by the offer of a considerable sum of money, the coachbuilder was at length induced to transfer my father’s indentures to Allan Ramsay. It was, of course, a great delight to my father to be removed to London under such favourable auspices. Ramsay had a large connection as a portrait painter. His object in employing my father was that he should assist him in the execution of the subordinate parts, or dress…

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Excerpt #8, from Hawaiian Folk Tales, by Thomas G. Thrum

…to his home at Puuloa was like the flight of a bird. The spoils and trophies of this battle he disposed of as before. The two young women, Kalelealuaka’s wives, turned the nozzle of the water-gourd downward, as they were bidden, and continued to press it into the water, in the vain hope that it might rise and fill their container, until the noonday sun began to pour his rays directly upon their heads; but no water entered their calabash. Then the younger sister proposed to the elder to fill the calabash in the usual way, saying that Kalelealuaka would not know the difference. This they did, and returned home. Kalelealuaka would not drink of the water, declaring that it had been dipped up. At this the younger wife laughed furtively; the elder broke forth and said: “It is due to the slowness of the way you told us to employ in getting the water. We are not accustomed to the menial office of fetching water; our father treated us delicately, and a man always fetched water for us, and we always used to see him pour the water into the gourd with the nozzle turned up, but you trickily ordered us to turn the nozzle down. Your exactions are heartless.” Thus the women kept complaining until, by and by, the tramp of the returning soldiers was heard, who were boasting of the great deeds of Keinohoomanawanui. The King, however, said: "I do not believe a word of…

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Excerpt #9, from A Princess of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs

…even Woola’s life to threaten the success of my venture, much less his momentary happiness, for I doubted not he soon would forget me. And so I bade the poor beast an affectionate farewell, promising him, however, that if I came through my adventure in safety that in some way I should find the means to search him out. He seemed to understand me fully, and when I pointed back in the direction of Thark he turned sorrowfully away, nor could I bear to watch him go; but resolutely set my face toward Zodanga and with a touch of heartsickness approached her frowning walls. The letter I bore from them gained me immediate entrance to the vast, walled city. It was still very early in the morning and the streets were practically deserted. The residences, raised high upon their metal columns, resembled huge rookeries, while the uprights themselves presented the appearance of steel tree trunks. The shops as a rule were not raised from the ground nor were their doors bolted or barred, since thievery is practically unknown upon Barsoom. Assassination is the ever-present fear of all Barsoomians, and for this reason alone their homes are raised high above the ground at night, or in times of danger. The Ptor brothers had given me explicit directions for reaching the point of the city where I could find living accommodations and be near the offices of the government agents to whom they had given me letters….

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Excerpt #10, from The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle

…services so valuable? or is it possible that—” He began biting his nails and staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from him until we were in New Street. At seven o’clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down Corporation Street to the company’s offices. “It is no use our being at all before our time,” said our client. “He only comes there to see me, apparently, for the place is deserted up to the very hour he names.” “That is suggestive,” remarked Holmes. “By Jove, I told you so!” cried the clerk. “That’s he walking ahead of us there.” He pointed to a smallish, dark, well-dressed man who was bustling along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and running over among the cabs and busses, he bought one from him. Then, clutching it in his hand, he vanished through a doorway. “There he goes!” cried Hall Pycroft. “These are the company’s offices into which he has gone. Come with me, and I’ll fix it up as easily as possible.” Following his lead, we ascended five stories, until we found…

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Excerpt #11, from Astrology: How to Make and Read Your Own Horoscope, by Sepharial

…Neptune, of Uranus, of Saturn and Jupiter and Mars follow in their order of frequency. Neptune has a revolution of about 165 years, Uranus 84 years, Saturn 30 years, Jupiter 12 years, and Mars 1-1/4 years. Major effects must not therefore be referred to inferior causes, and minor effects must not be referred to superior causes. In universal or even national cataclysms, individual fortunes are submerged. CHAPTER III HOW TO SUMMARISE A HOROSCOPE Before leaving the exposition of this subject, it may be of advantage to the reader if I give some idea of the method to be pursued in the complete handling of a horoscope. First, then, erect the figure of birth, taking care to use the Ephemeris of the year of birth, and also the correct Table of Houses for the latitude of the place of birth. Next proceed to attempt a description of the chief personal traits of the Subject, following in succession with a well-considered judgment on the constitution, hereditary tendencies, the health and pathological predispositions, the mental traits and disposition, considering these latter in relation to the state of health indicated. Then pass to a consideration of the environing conditions of life; the financial condition and outlook; the position in life; the occupation; prospects…

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Excerpt #12, from Mr. Punch’s Golf Stories, by J. A. Hammerton

…Mister Glenwistle fell into a sort of dream upon the seventh green and ’ad to be rarsed by Chawley. It may ’ave been Eskimo that ’e spoke to the boy when ’e’d touched ’im jently on the arm, but it sounded wuss–much wuss. ’Owever, we comes back at one to the club-’ouse, red umbereller and all, like Robbinson Crewso, and they goes into lunch. Whilst they’re still laying into the grub like winking, I and Chawley Martin, ’aving eaten our own frugil meal, sit down near the ’club-’ouse and begin to polish up their clubs. We fell a-talking about the great science of golf, getting quite ’eated in a little while, and at last Chawley, to illerstrate ’is own mistakin theery, gets upon ’is ’ind legs. ’E takes Mister Glenwistle’s best driver from ’is bag and shows me what ’e calls “a full swing, wif every ounce of weight and rist and mussel crammed into it.” I was afeard ’ow it would be. The length of the club mastered ’im. ’E ’it the onoffending turf a crewel blow, and there was a narsty crack. ’E sits down beside me wif a garsp, and we looks at Mister Glenwistle’s pet driver wif the ’ead ’arf off. “What’s to be done, ’Enery?” ’e ses, after a sort of sickly pawse. Fer my part I’d been thinking ’ard, me brain being better than most. “There’s three courses open to you, Chawley, me lad,” I ses quietly….

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