The Adventures of Pinocchioby C. Collodi[Pseudonym of Carlo Lorenzini]CHAPTER 1How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a childCenturies ago there lived"A king!" my little readers will say immediately.No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.I do not know how this really happened, yet the fact remains that one fine day this piece of wood found itself in the shop of an old carpenter. His real name was Mastro Antonio, 　

Christie JohnstoneA NOVELby Charles ReadeI dedicate all that is good in this work to my mother.C. R.,NOTETHIS story was written three years ago, and one or two topics in it arenot treated exactly as they would be if written by the same hand to-day.But if the author had retouched those pages with his colors of 1853, hewould (he thinks) have destroyed the only merit they have, viz., that ofcontaining genuine contemporaneous verdicts upon a cant that wasflourishing like a peony, and a truth that was struggling for bare life,in the year of truth 1850.He prefers to deal fairly with the public, and, with this explanation andapology, to lay at its feet a faulty but genuine piece of work....　

On the First Principles of Governmentby David HumeNothing appears more surprising to those, who consider humanaffairs with a philosophical eve, than the easiness with whichthe many are governed by the few; and the implicit submission,with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to thoseof their rulers. When we enquire by what means this wonder iseffected, we shall find, that, as FORCE is always on the side ofthe governed, the governors have nothing to support them butopinion. It is therefore, on opinion only that government isfounded; and this maxim extends to the most despotic and mostmilitary governments, as well as to the most free and most...　

The Friendly Road; New Adventures in Contentmentby David Grayson"Surely it is good to be alive at a time like this."A WORD TO HIM WHO OPENS THIS BOOKI did not plan when I began writing these chapters to make an entire book, but only to put down the more or less unusual impressions, the events and adventures, of certain quiet pilgrimages in country roads. But when I had written down all of these things, I found I had material in plenty."What shall I call it now that I have written it?" I asked myself.At first I thought I should call it "Adventures on the Road," or "The Country Road," or something equally simple, for I would not have the title arouse any appetite which the book itself could n　

SYLLA138-78 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenLUCIUS Cornelius Sylla was descended of a patrician or noble family.Of his ancestors, Rufinus, it is said, had been consul, and incurred adisgrace more signal than his distinction. For being found possessedof more than ten pounds of silver plate, contrary to the law, he wasfor this reason put out of the senate. His posterity continued everafter in obscurity, nor had Sylla himself any opulent parentage. Inhis younger days he lived in hired lodgings, at a low rate, which inaftertimes was adduced against him as proof that he had been fortunate...　

The Moravians in Georgia, 1735-1740 by Adelaide L. FriesPreface.In the life of any individual, association, or nation, there will probably be one or more occurrences which may be considered as success or failure according to the dramatic features of the event and the ultimate results. Of this the Battle of Bunker Hill is a striking example. On the morning of June 17th, 1775, a force of British soldiers attacked a small body of raw, ill-equipped American volunteers, who had fortified a hill near Boston, and quickly drove them from their position. By whom then was the Bunker Hill Monument erected? By the victors in that first engagement of the Revolution? No, but by proud descendants of the　

Lachesby PlatoTranslated by Benjamin JowettINTRODUCTION.Lysimachus, the son of Aristides the Just, and Melesias, the son of theelder Thucydides, two aged men who live together, are desirous of educatingtheir sons in the best manner. Their own education, as often happens withthe sons of great men, has been neglected; and they are resolved that theirchildren shall have more care taken of them, than they received themselvesat the hands of their fathers.At their request, Nicias and Laches have accompanied them to see a mannamed Stesilaus fighting in heavy armour. The two fathers ask the two...　

HERETICSbyGilbert K. Chesterton"To My Father"The AuthorGilbert Keith Chesterton was born in London, England on the 29thof May, 1874. Though he considered himself a mere "rollicking journalist,"he was actually a prolific and gifted writer in virtually every areaof literature. A man of strong opinions and enormously talentedat defending them, his exuberant personality nevertheless allowedhim to maintain warm friendships with peoplesuch as George BernardShaw and H. G. Wellswith whom he vehemently disagreed....　

The Story of My Heartby Richard JefferiesAN AUTOBIOGRAPHYCHAPTER ITHE story of my heart commences seventeen years ago. In the glowof youth there were times every now and then when I felt thenecessity of a strong inspiration of soulthought. My heart wasdusty, parched for want of the rain of deep feeling; my mind arid and dry,for there is a dust which settles on the heart as well as that which fallson a ledge. It is injurious to the mind as well as to the body to be alwaysin one place and always surrounded by the same circumstances. A species ofthick clothing slowly grows about the mind, the pores are choked, littlehabits become a part of existence, and by degrees the mind is inclosed in a.　

The Man Who Knew Too Muchby Gilbert K. ChestertonCONTENTSTHE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH:I. THE FACE IN THE TARGETII. THE VANISHING PRINCEIII. THE SOUL OF THE SCHOOLBOYIV. THE BOTTOMLESS WELLV. THE FAD OF THE FISHERMANVI. THE HOLE IN THE WALLVII. THE TEMPLE OF SILENCEVIII. THE VENGEANCE OF THE STATUETHE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCHI. THE FACE IN THE TARGETHarold March, the rising reviewer and social critic, was walking vigorously across a great tableland of moors and commons, the horizon of which was fringed with the far-off woods of the famous estate of Torwood Park. He was a good-looking young man in tweeds, with very pale curly hair and pale clear eyes. Walking in wind and sun in the very landscape 　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE BOTTLE NECKby Hans Christian AndersenCLOSE to the corner of a street, among other abodes of poverty,stood an exceedingly tall, narrow house, which had been so knockedabout by time that it seemed out of joint in every direction. Thishouse was inhabited by poor people, but the deepest poverty wasapparent in the garret lodging in the gable. In front of the littlewindow, an old bent bird-cage hung in the sunshine, which had not evena proper water-glass, but instead of it the broken neck of a bottle,turned upside down, and a cork stuck in to make it hold the water with...　

Styleby Walter RaleighStyle, the Latin name for an iron pen, has come to designate the art that handles, with ever fresh vitality and wary alacrity, the fluid elements of speech. By a figure, obvious enough, which yet might serve for an epitome of literary method, the most rigid and simplest of instruments has lent its name to the subtlest and most flexible of arts. Thence the application of the word has been extended to arts other than literature, to the whole range of the activities of man. The fact that we use the word "style" in speaking of architecture and sculpture, painting and music, dancing, play-acting, and cricket, that we can apply it to the careful achievements of the houseb