Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:23:45

Excerpt #1, from The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair

…carry tales about the rest, and so the furies were unchained in the place. Worse than this, the woman lived in a bawdy-house downtown, with a coarse, red-faced Irishman named Connor, who was the boss of the loading-gang outside, and would make free with the girls as they went to and from their work. In the slack seasons some of them would go with Miss Henderson to this house downtown—in fact, it would not be too much to say that she managed her department at Brown’s in conjunction with it. Sometimes women from the house would be given places alongside of decent girls, and after other decent girls had been turned off to make room for them. When you worked in this woman’s department the house downtown was never out of your thoughts all day—there were always whiffs of it to be caught, like the odor of the Packingtown rendering plants at night, when the wind shifted suddenly. There would be stories about it going the rounds; the girls opposite you would be telling them and winking at you. In such a place Ona would not have stayed a day, but for starvation; and, as it was, she was never sure that she could stay the next day. She understood now that the real reason that Miss Henderson hated her was that she was a decent married girl; and she knew that the talebearers and the toadies hated her for the same reason, and were doing their best to make her life miserable. But there was no place a girl could go in Packingtown, if she was…

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Excerpt #2, from The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James

…repeat, not quite successfully presentable to Mrs. Grose, though I reinforced it with the mention of still another remark that he had made before we separated. “It all lies in half a dozen words,” I said to her, “words that really settle the matter. ‘Think, you know, what I might do!’ He threw that off to show me how good he is. He knows down to the ground what he ‘might’ do. That’s what he gave them a taste of at school.” “Lord, you do change!” cried my friend. “I don’t change—I simply make it out. The four, depend upon it, perpetually meet. If on either of these last nights you had been with either child, you would clearly have understood. The more I’ve watched and waited the more I’ve felt that if there were nothing else to make it sure it would be made so by the systematic silence of each. Never, by a slip of the tongue, have they so much as alluded to either of their old friends, any more than Miles has alluded to his expulsion. Oh, yes, we may sit here and look at them, and they may show off to us there to their fill; but even while they pretend to be lost in their fairytale they’re steeped in their vision of the dead restored. He’s not reading to her,” I declared; “they’re talking of them—they’re talking horrors! I go on, I know, as if I were crazy; and it’s a wonder I’m not. What I’ve seen would have made you so; but it has only made…

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Excerpt #3, from The Reign of Greed, by José Rizal

…take the property away from him. But the local judges and those at the capital, warned by the experience of one of their number who had been summarily dismissed, dared not give him the decision, fearing their own dismissal. Yet they were not really bad men, those judges, they were upright and conscientious, good citizens, excellent fathers, dutiful sons–and they were able to appreciate poor Tales’ situation better than Tales himself could. Many of them were versed in the scientific and historical basis of property, they knew that the friars by their own statutes could not own property, but they also knew that to come from far across the sea with an appointment secured with great difficulty, to undertake the duties of the position with the best intentions, and now to lose it because an Indian fancied that justice had to be done on earth as in heaven–that surely was an idea! They had their families and greater needs surely than that Indian: one had a mother to provide for, and what duty is more sacred than that of caring for a mother? Another had sisters, all of marriageable age; that other there had many little children who expected their daily bread and who, like fledglings in a nest, would surely die of hunger the day he was out of a job; even the very least of them had there, far away, a wife who would be in distress if the monthly remittance…

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Excerpt #4, from A Breeze from the Woods, 2nd Ed., by W. C. Bartlett

…other mountains are lifted up out of the sea and out of the arid plains. Climbing a hill, more than four hundred feet above the surface of the water, and five miles inland from the present shore line, one may find thousands of marine shells, many of mollusks not yet extinct as species, and read on the face of this conglomerate, as in open volume, the record of a physical creation, whether by the subsidence of the sea or the elevation of the land, as fresh, geologically, as if all this had occurred but a century ago. This world of waters creates no sense of isolation. Observe, too, that whoever has been born and bred by the shore will evermore look out on the sea and be glad. A sail is better than a horse, and the breaking of the waves hath more majesty and a diviner music than any organ touched by human hands. Mem.: the man who has gone over the rocks, and is filling his pockets with mussels in a furtive sort of a way, is from the interior. He wants salting. He is looking out drift wood, and will strike a match presently. Let him fancy, if he will, that his feast is fit for the gods. To-night he will probably dream that one of these wrecks, covered with barnacles and sea-weed, has rolled over, and is lying athwart his capacious diaphragm. The Patriarch went out into the fields at eventide. Was it any the worse for him that his meditations were gilded with a touch of romance? What…

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Excerpt #5, from Psmith, Journalist, by P. G. Wodehouse

…gloomy turn, say to yourselves, ‘All is well. Psmith is keeping a watchful eye upon our interests.’" “All the same, I should like to see this W. Windsor,” said Mr. Asher. Psmith shook his head. “I shouldn’t,” he said. “I speak in your best interests. Comrade Windsor is a man of the fiercest passions. He cannot brook interference. Were you to question the wisdom of his plans, there is no knowing what might not happen. He would be the first to regret any violent action, when once he had cooled off, but would that be any consolation to his victim? I think not. Of course, if you wish it, I could arrange a meeting–” Mr. Asher said no, he thought it didn’t matter. “I guess I can wait,” he said. “That,” said Psmith approvingly, “is the right spirit. Wait. That is the watch-word. And now,” he added, rising, “I wonder if a bit of lunch somewhere might not be a good thing? We have had an interesting but fatiguing little chat. Our tissues require restoring. If you gentlemen would care to join me–” Ten minutes later the company was seated in complete harmony round a table at the Knickerbocker. Psmith, with the dignified bonhomie…

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Excerpt #6, from The World’s Greatest Books — Volume 15 — Science, by J. A. Hammerton and Arthur Mee

…conditions, does not preserve and propagate the qualities or the accidental defects which he has been in the way of acquiring. Such peculiarities will be produced only in case two individuals who share them unite; these will produce offspring bearing similar characteristics, and, if successive generations restrict themselves to similar unions, a distinct race will then be formed. But perpetual intermixture will cause all characters acquired through particular circumstances to disappear. If it were not for the distances which separate the races of men, such intermixture would quickly obliterate all national distinctions. IV.–The Conclusion Here, then, is the conclusion to which we have come. It is a fact that every genus and species of animal has its characteristic habits combined with an organisation perfectly in harmony with them. From the consideration of this fact one of two conclusions must follow, and that though neither of them can be proved. (1) The conclusion admitted hitherto–that nature (or its Author) in creating the animals has foreseen all the possible sets of circumstances in which they would have to live, has given to each species a constant organisation, and has shaped its parts in a determined and invariable way so that every species is compelled to live in the districts and the…

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Excerpt #7, from Latin for Beginners, by Benjamin L. D’Ooge

…(b) «Perseus terram trīstitiā līberat» Perseus frees the land from sorrow (figurative separation–no actual motion is expressed) «181.» RULE. «Ablative of the Personal Agent.» The word expressing the person from whom an action starts, when not the subject, is put in the ablative with the preposition «ā» or «ab.» a. In this construction the English translation of «ā», «ab» is by rather than from. This ablative is regularly used with passive verbs to indicate the person by whom the act was performed. «Mōnstrum ā Perseō necātur», the monster is being slain by (lit. from) Perseus b. Note that the active form of the above sentence would be «Perseus monstrum necat», Perseus is slaying the monster. In the passive the object of the active verb becomes the subject, and the subject of the active verb becomes the ablative of the personal agent, with «ā» or «ab». c. Distinguish carefully between the ablative of means and the ablative of the personal agent. Both are often translated into English by the preposition by. (Cf. §100. b.) Means is a «thing»; the agent or actor is a «person». The ablative of means…

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Excerpt #8, from Twenty Four Unusual Stories for Boys and Girls, by Anna Cogswell Tyler

…“You could open your window of a summer night and give a call to the neighbors,” he sighed, “and you needn’t to have the voice of the giant Finn McCoul to make them hear. In this place a man could fall sick and die alone and no one be the wiser.” His reminiscences had wandered farther and farther until he began to tell the tales and legends familiar in his own countryside, stories of the “Little People” and of Ireland in ancient times. Of them all Ted remembered most clearly the story of the white grayhounds of the King of Connemara, upon which his friend had dwelt long, showing that in spite of its being a thousand years old, it was his favorite tale. “Like those dogs on Arran Creek, they were perhaps,” the Irishman said, “only sleeker of coat and swifter of foot, I’m thinking.” “But they couldn’t be faster,” Ted had objected. “The Arran dogs can catch coyotes and jack-rabbits and people have called those the quickest animals that run.” “Ah,” returned the other with true Irish logic, “those Arran dogs are Russian, they tell me, and these I speak of were of Connemara, and what comes out of Ireland, you may be sure, is faster and fairer than anything else on earth.” Against such reasoning Ted had judged it impossible to argue and had dropped into silence and finally into sleep with the voices of the…

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Excerpt #9, from The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway

…“You like the bull-fights?” “Sure. Don’t you?” “Yes,” he said. “I guess I like them.” Then after a little: “Where you go now?” “Up to Burguete to fish.” “Well,” he said, “I hope you catch something.” He shook hands and turned around to the back seat again. The other Basques had been impressed. He sat back comfortably and smiled at me when I turned around to look at the country. But the effort of talking American seemed to have tired him. He did not say anything after that. The bus climbed steadily up the road. The country was barren and rocks stuck up through the clay. There was no grass beside the road. Looking back we could see the country spread out below. Far back the fields were squares of green and brown on the hillsides. Making the horizon were the brown mountains. They were strangely shaped. As we climbed higher the horizon kept changing. As the bus ground slowly up the road we could see other mountains coming up in the south. Then the road came over the crest, flattened out, and went into a forest. It was a forest of cork oaks, and the sun came through the trees in patches, and there were cattle grazing back in the trees. We went through the forest and the…

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Excerpt #10, from Japanese Literature, by Epiphanius Wilson

…little. Tô-no-Chiûjiô was next requested by the Emperor to do the same thing, and he danced the “Willow Flower Gardens” most elaborately, and was honored by the Emperor with a present of a roll of silk. After them, many young nobles danced indiscriminately, one after another, but we cannot give an opinion about them as the darkness was already gathering round. Lamps were at length brought, when the reading of the poems took place, and late in the evening all present dispersed. The palace grounds now became quite tranquil, and over them the moon shone with her soft light. Genji, his temper mellowed by saké, was tempted to take a stroll to see what he could see. He first sauntered round Fuji-Tsubo (the chamber of Wistaria) and came up by the side of the corridor of Kokiden. He noticed a small private door standing open. It seems that the Niogo was in her upper chamber at the Emperor’s quarters, having gone there after she retired from the feast. The inner sliding door was also left open, and no human voice was heard from within. “Such are occasions on which one often compromises one’s self,” thought he, and yet slowly approached the entrance. Just at that moment he heard a tender voice coming toward him, humming, “Nothing so sweet as the oboro[77] moon-night.” Genji waited her approach, and caught her by the sleeve. It made her start. “Who are you?” she…

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Excerpt #11, from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

…curious song about the whiting!” “Oh, as to the whiting,” said the Mock Turtle, “they—you’ve seen them, of course?” “Yes,” said Alice, “I’ve often seen them at dinn—” she checked herself hastily. “I don’t know where Dinn may be,” said the Mock Turtle, “but if you’ve seen them so often, of course you know what they’re like.” “I believe so,” Alice replied thoughtfully. “They have their tails in their mouths—and they’re all over crumbs.” “You’re wrong about the crumbs,” said the Mock Turtle: “crumbs would all wash off in the sea. But they have their tails in their mouths; and the reason is—” here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes.—“Tell her about the reason and all that,” he said to the Gryphon. “The reason is,” said the Gryphon, “that they would go with the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn’t get them out again. That’s all.” “Thank you,” said Alice, “it’s very interesting. I never knew so much about a whiting before.” “I can tell you more than that, if you like,” said the Gryphon. “Do you know why it’s called a whiting?”…

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Excerpt #12, from Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich, by Stephen Leacock

…over everybody. Some people sought it at the seaside, where nature had thrown out her broad plank walks and her long piers and her vaudeville shows. Others sought it in the heart of the country, where nature had spread her oiled motor roads and her wayside inns. Others, like the Newberrys, preferred to “rough it” in country residences of their own. Some of the people, as already said, went for business reasons, to avoid the suspicion of having to work all the year round. Others went to Europe to avoid the reproach of living always in America. Others, perhaps most people, went for medical reasons, being sent away by their doctors. Not that they were ill; but the doctors of Plutoria Avenue, such as Doctor Slyder, always preferred to send all their patients out of town during the summer months. No well-to-do doctor cares to be bothered with them. And of course patients, even when they are anxious to go anywhere on their own account, much prefer to be sent there by their doctor. “My dear madam,” Dr. Slyder would say to a lady who, as he knew, was most anxious to go to Virginia, “there’s really nothing I can do for you.” Here he spoke the truth. “It’s not a case of treatment. It’s simply a matter of dropping everything and going away. Now why don’t you go for a month or two to some quiet place, where you will simply do nothing?” (She never, as he knew, did anything, anyway.) "What do…

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