THE NIXY[15][15] From the German. Kletke.There was once upon a time a miller who was very well off, andhad as much money and as many goods as he knew what to do with.But sorrow comes in the night, and the miller all of a suddenbecame so poor that at last he could hardly call the mill inwhich he sat his own. He wandered about all day full of despairand misery, and when he lay down at night he could get no rest,but lay awake all night sunk in sorrowful thoughts.One morning he rose up before dawn and went outside, for hethought his heart would be lighter in the open air. As hewandered up and down on the banks of the mill-pond he heard a...　

　dedicates this book to　Barry and Jody Turkus.　　Lincoln Child　dedicates this book to　his daughter, Veronica.　　Acknowledgments　　Lincoln Child would like to thank Bruce Swanson, Mark Mendel, Pat Allocco, Chris and Susan Yango, Jerry and Terry Hyland, Anthony Cifelli, M.D., Norman San Agustin, M.D., and Lee Suckno, M.D., for their friendship and assistance. Ongoing thanks to Special Agent Douglas Margini for his advice on New York, New Jersey, and federal law enforcement matters. Thanks to Jill Nowak for an insightful reading of the text. Bob Przybylski was very useful in nailing down some of the firearms details. Thanks also to Monsignor Bob Diacheck for reading and menting on the manuscript.　

The Wonderful Wizard of Ozby L. Frank BaumContentsIntroduction1. The Cyclone2. The Council with the Munchkins3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow4. The Road Through the Forest5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman6. The Cowardly Lion7. The Journey to the Great Oz8. The Deadly Poppy Field9. The Queen of the Field Mice...　

The Antiquities of the Jews (1)by Flavius JosephusTranslated by William WhistonPREFACE.1. Those who undertake to write histories, do not, I perceive,take that trouble on one and the same account, but for manyreasons, and those such as are very different one from another.For some of them apply themselves to this part of learning toshow their skill in composition, and that they may thereinacquire a reputation for speaking finely: others of them thereare, who write histories in order to gratify those that happen tobe concerned in them, and on that account have spared no pains,but rather gone beyond their own abilities in the performance:but others there are, who, of necessity and by force, are　

　1　 With a gentle sigh the service tube dropped a message capsule into the receiving cup. The attention bell chimed once and was silent. Jason dinAlt stared at the harmless capsule as though it were a ticking bomb.　 Something was going wrong. He felt a hard knot of tension form inside of him. This was no routine service memo or hotel munication, but a sealed personal message. Yet he knew no one on this planet, having arrived by spacer less than eight hours earlier. Since even his name was new-dating back to the last time he had changed ships- there could be no personal messages. Yet here one was.　 Stripping the seal with his thumbnail, he took the top off. The recorder in the pencil-sized c　

　Sao Paulo Airport, Brazil, 1991　　 With a POWERFUL KICK FROM ITS twin turbofan engines, the sleek executive jet lifted off the runway and shot into the vaulted skies above Sao Paulo. Climbing rapidly over the biggest city in South America, the Learjet soon reached its cruising altitude of thirty-nine thousand feet and raced toward the northwest at five hundred miles an hour. Seated in a fortable rear-facing chair at the back of the cabin, Professor Francesca Cabral peered wistfully out the window at the cottony cloud cover, already missing the smog cloaked streets and sizzling energy of her hometown. A muffled snort from across the narrow aisle interrupted her musings. She glanced over at t　

Ragged Lady, v2by William Dean HowellsPart 2XV.Mrs. Lander went to a hotel in New York where she had been in the habitof staying with her husband, on their way South or North. The clerk knewher, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she couldhave her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up theirhand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her witha smile of remembrance.Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had noexcuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went withClementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found themplaces, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served　

　　There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers　　exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will　　instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more　　bizarre and inexplicable.　　　　There is another theory which states that this has already happened.　　　　Chapter 1　　　　The story so far:　　In the beginning the Universe was created.　　This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.　　Many races believe that it was created by some sort of God, though the Jatravartid people of Viltvodle VI believe that the entire Universe was in fact sneezed out of the nose of a being called the Great Green Arkleseizure....　

1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE TOADby Hans Christian AndersenTHE well was deep, and therefore the rope had to be a long one; itwas heavy work turning the handle when any one had to raise abucketful of water over the edge of the well. Though the water wasclear, the sun never looked down far enough into the well to mirroritself in the waters; but as far as its beams could reach, greenthings grew forth between the stones in the sides of the well.Down below dwelt a family of the Toad race. They had, in fact,come head-over-heels down the well, in the person of the oldMother-Toad, who was still alive. The green Frogs, who had beenestablished there a long time, and swam about in the　

CHAPTER IBIRDS OF A FEATHER　　"YOUR mail, Mr. Rowden."　　"Ah, yes. Thank you."　　The switchboard operator passed a stack of envelopes to the man who stood in front of the lobby desk. Rowden smiled as he received the mail. He scanned the envelopes; then thrust them in his pocket and strolled into the elevator.　　The switchboard girl sighed as the door closed. It was not often that the Mallison Apartments received such debonair guests as Roke Rowden. Small and obscure in the midst of Manhattan, the Mallison catered chiefly to bargain-hunting tourists.　　Roke Rowden was a novelty. He had the bearing of a man-about-town. Suave to the points of his sharp-tipped mustache, friendly of eye and manner　

　Prologue　　 "e home, Tenar! e home!"　 In the deep valley, in the twilight, the apple trees were on the eve of blossoming; here and there among the shadowed boughs one flower had opened early, rose and white, like a faint star. Down the orchard aisles, in the thick, new, wet grass, the little girl ran for the joy of running; hearing the call she did not e at once, but made a long circle before she turned her face towards home. The mother waiting in the doorway of the hut, with the firelight behind her, watched the tiny figure running and bobbing like a bit of thistledown blown over the darkening grass beneath the trees.　 By the corner of the hut, scraping clean an earthclotted hoe, the fathe　

　　　　THE BOOK OF BLOOD　　　　THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN　　　　THE YATTERING AND JACK　　　　PIG BLOOD AND STARSHINE　　　　IN THE HILLS, THE CITIES　　　　THE BOOK OF BLOOD　　　　　　THE DEAD HAVE highways.　　They run, unerring lines of ghost-trains, of dream-carriages, across the wasteland behind our lives, bearing an endless traffic of departed souls. Their thrum and throb can be heard in the broken places of the world, through cracks made by acts of cruelty, violence and depravity. Their freight, the wandering dead, can be glimpsed when the heart is close to bursting, and sights that should be hidden e plainly into view.　　They have sign-posts, these highways, and bridges and lay-bys. They have turnpikes and interse