FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE TRAVELLING COMPANIONby Hans Christian AndersenPOOR John was very sad; for his father was so ill, he had nohope of his recovery. John sat alone with the sick man in the littleroom, and the lamp had nearly burnt out; for it was late in the night."You have been a good son, John," said the sick father, "and Godwill help you on in the world." He looked at him, as he spoke, withmild, earnest eyes, drew a deep sigh, and died; yet it appeared asif he still slept.John wept bitterly. He had no one in the wide world now; neitherfather, mother, brother, nor sister. Poor John! he knelt down by the...　

The Conditions of Existenceby Thomas H. HuxleyIN the last Lecture I endeavoured to prove to you that, while, as ageneral rule, organic beings tend to reproduce their kind, there is inthem, also, a constantly recurring tendency to varyto vary to agreater or to a less extent. Such a variety, I pointed out to you,might arise from causes which we do not understand; we therefore calledit spontaneous; and it might come into existence as a definite andmarked thing, without any gradations between itself and the form whichpreceded it. I further pointed out, that such a variety having oncearisen, might be perpetuated to some extent, and indeed to a verymarked extent, without any direct interference　

Hermann and DorotheaBy Johann Wolfgang von GoetheTranslated by Ellen FrothinghamINTRODUCTORY NOTEThere are few modern poems of any country so perfect in their kind as the "Hermann and Dorothea" of Goethe. In clearness of characterization, in unity of tone, in the adjustment of background and foreground, in the conduct of the narrative, it conforms admirably to the strict canons of art; yet it preserves a freshness and spontaneity in its emotional appeal that are rare in works of so classical a perfection in form.The basis of the poem is a historical incident. In the year 1731 the Archbishop of Salzburg drove out of his diocese a thousand Protestants, who took refuge in South Germany, and am　

My Buried Treasureby Richard Harding DavisThis is a true story of a search for buried treasure. The onlypart that is not true is the name of the man with whom I searchedfor the treasure. Unless I keep his name out of it he will not letme write the story, and, as it was his expedition and as my shareof the treasure is only what I can make by writing the story, Imust write as he dictates. I think the story should be told,because our experience was unique, and might be of benefit toothers. And, besides, I need the money.There is, however, no agreement preventing me from describing himas I think he is, or reporting, as accurately as I can, what hesaid and did as he said and did it....　

IThe man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what might have been parsecs in all directions. White; blinding; waterless; without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An occasional tombstone sign pointed the way, for once the drifted track that cut its way through the thick crust of alkali had been a highway and coaches had followed it. The world had moved on since then. The world had emptied.The gunslinger walked stolidly, not hurrying, not loafing. A hide waterbag 　

　　Inasmuch as the scene of this story is that historic pile, Belpher Castle, in the county of Hampshire, it would be an agreeable task to open it with a leisurely description of the place, followed by some notes on the history of the Earls of Marshmoreton, who have owned it since the fifteenth century. Unfortunately, in these days of rush and hurry, a novelist works at a disadvantage. He must leap into the middle of his tale with as little delay as he would employ in boarding a moving tramcar. He must get off the mark with the smooth swiftness of a jack-rabbit surprised while lunching. Otherwise, people throw him aside and go out to picture palaces.　I may briefly remark that the present Lor　

Daisy Millerby Henry JamesIN TWO PARTSPART IAt the little town of Vevey, in Switzerland, there is aparticularly comfortable hotel. There are, indeed, many hotels,for the entertainment of tourists is the business of the place,which, as many travelers will remember, is seated upon the edgeof a remarkably blue lakea lake that it behooves every touristto visit. The shore of the lake presents an unbroken arrayof establishments of this order, of every category, from the"grand hotel" of the newest fashion, with a chalk-white front,a hundred balconies, and a dozen flags flying from its roof,...　

A New England Girlhoodby Lucy LarcomI dedicated this sketchTo my girlfriends in general;And in particularTo my namesake-niece,Lucy Larcom Spaulding.Happy those early days, when IShined in my angel-infancy!When on some gilded cloud or flowerMy gazing soul would dwell an hour,And in those weaker glories spySome shadows of eternity:Before I taught my tongue to woundMy conscience by a sinful sound;But felt through all this fleshy dressBright shoots of everlastingness.HENRY VAUGHANThe thought of our past years in me doth breedPerpetual benediction.WORDSWORTHPREFACETHE following sketch was written for the young, at the suggestion of friends....　

SHERLOCK HOLMESTHE ADVENTURE OF THE DYING DETECTIVEby Sir Arthur Conan DoyleMrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-sufferingwoman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all hours bythrongs of singular and often undesirable characters but herremarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity in hislife which must have sorely tried her patience. His incredibleuntidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasionalrevolver practice within doors, his weird and often malodorousscientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and danger...　

OF THE DELICACY OF TASTE AND PASSIONDavid Hume1741/SOME People are subject to a certain of, which makes them extremely sensible to all theaccidents of life, and gives them a lively joy upon everyprosperous event, as well as a piercing grief, when theymeet with misfortunes and adversity. Favours and goodoffices easily engage their friendship; while the smallestinjury provokes their resentment. Any honour or mark of...　

AN INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE AND CAUSES OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONSby Adam Smith1776INTRODUCTION AND PLAN OF THE WORKTHE annual labour of every nation is the fund whichoriginally supplies it with all the necessaries and conveniencesof life which it annually consumes, and which consist alwayseither in the immediate produce of that labour, or in what ispurchased with that produce from other nations.According therefore as this produce, or what is purchasedwith it, bears a greater or smaller proportion to the number ofthose who are to consume it, the nation will be better or worse...　

VOLUME IICHAPTER IAvaunt! and quit my sight! Let the Earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold! Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which Thou dost glare with! Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery hence! Macbeth.Continuation of the History of Don Raymond.My journey was uncommonly agreeable: I found the Baron a Man of some sense, but little knowledge of the world. He had past a great part of his life without stirring beyond the precincts of his own domains, and consequently his manners were far from being the most polished: But He was hearty, good-humoured, and friendly. His attention to me was all that I