BruceBruceAlbert Payson Terhune1- Page 2-BruceWho are far wiser in their way and far better in every way, than I; andyet who have not the wisdom to know it Who do not merely think I amperfect, but who are calmly and permanently convinced of my perfection;--and this in spite of fifty disillusions a day Who are frantically happy atmy coming and bitterly woebegone in my absence Who never bore me andnever are bored by me Who never talk about themselves and who alwayslisten with rapturous interest to anything I may say Who, having no...　

　　Book One　　Chapter 01　　Behind every great fortune there is a crime.　BALZAC　Amerigo Bonasera sat in New York Criminal Court Number 3 and waited for justice; vengeance on the men who had so cruelly hurt his daughter, who had tried to dishonor her.　　The judge, a formidably heavy-featured man, rolled up the sleeves of his black robe as if to physically chastise the two young men standing before the bench. His face was cold with majestic contempt. But there was something false in all this that Amerigo Bonasera sensed but did not yet understand.　　"You acted like the worst kind of degenerates," the judge said harshly. Yes, yes, thought Amerigo Bonasera. Animals. Animals. The two young men, glossy　

OWL POSTHarry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And he also happened to be a wizard.It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, "Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Ce　

shall lie across the Pattern of the Age, and the Dark One shall once more layhis hand upon the world of man. Women shall weep and men quail as the nations ofthe earth are rent like rotting cloth. Neither shall anything stand nor abide...Yet one shall be born to face the Shadow, born once more as he was born beforeand shall be born again, time without end. The Dragon shall be Reborn, and thereshall be wailing and gnashing of teeth at his rebirth. In sackcloth and ashesshall he clothe the people, and he shall break the world again by his ing,tearing apart all ties that bind. Like the unfettered dawn shall he blind us,and burn us, yet shall the Dragon Reborn confront the Shadow at the Last Bat　

　　THE WAVES TURNED VICIOUS AND WORSENED WITH EVERY rush of wind. The calm weather of the morning transformed from Dr. Jekyll into a vehement Mr. Hyde by late evening. Whitecaps on the crests of towering waves were lashed into sheets of spray. The violent water and black clouds merged under the onslaught of a driving snowstorm. It was impossible to tell where water ended and sky began. As the passenger liner Princess Dou Wan fought through waves that rose like mountains before spilling over the ship, the men on board were unaware of the imminent disaster that was only minutes away. The crazed waters were driven by northeast and northwest gales that simultaneously caused ferocious currents t　

　　　　Like an uncoiling serpent, a line of fighting chariots wound swiftly down the gut of the valley. From where he clung to the dashboard of the leading chariot the boy looked up at the cliffs that hemmed them in. The sheer rock was pierced by the openings to the tombs of the old people that honeybed the cliff. The dark pits stared down at him like the implacable eyes of a legion of djinn. Prince Nefer Memnon shuddered and looked away, furtively making the sign to avert evil with his left hand.　　　　Over his shoulder he glanced back down the column and saw that from the following chariot Taita was watching him through the swirling clouds of dust. The dust had coated the old man and his vehicl　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE NEIGHBOURING FAMILIESby Hans Christian AndersenONE would have thought that something important was going on inthe duck-pond, but it was nothing after all. All the ducks lyingquietly on the water or standing on their heads in it- for theycould do that- at once swarm to the sides; the traces of their feetwere seen in the wet earth, and their cackling was heard far and wide.The water, which a few moments before had been as clear and smoothas a mirror, became very troubled. Before, every tree, everyneighbouring bush, the old farmhouse with the holes in the roof and...　

THE FRIENDLY ROADTHE FRIENDLY ROADby DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY1- Page 2-THE FRIENDLY ROADA WORD TO HIM WHO OPENSTHIS BOOKI did not plan when I began writing these chapters to make an entirebook, but only to put down the more or less unusual impressions, theevents and adventures, of certain quiet pilgrimages in country roads. Butwhen I had written down all of these things, I found I had material inplenty."What shall I call it now that I have written it?" I asked myself....　

An Empty RoadThe Wheel of Time turns, and Ages e and pass, leaving memories that bee legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth es again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to e, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.Born below the ever cloud-capped peaks that gave the mountains their name, the wind blew east, out across the Sand Hills, once the shore of a great ocean, before the Breaking of the World. Down it flailed into the Two Rivers, into the tangled forest called the W　

How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a DayHow to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a DayArnold Bennett1- Page 2-How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a DayPREFACE TO THIS EDITIONThis preface, though placed at the beginning, as a preface must be,should be read at the end of the book.I have received a large amount of correspondence concerning thissmall work, and many reviews of itsome of them nearly as long as thebook itselfhave been printed. But scarcely any of the comment has been...　

The Golden Roadby L. M. Montgomery"Life was a rose-lipped comradeWith purple flowers dripping from her fingers."The Author.TOTHE MEMORY OFAunt Mary LawsonWHO TOLD ME MANY OF THE TALESREPEATED BY THESTORY GIRLFOREWORDOnce upon a time we all walked on the golden road. It was a fair highway, through the Land of Lost Delight; shadow and sunshine were blessedly mingled, and every turn and dip revealed a fresh charm and a new loveliness to eager hearts and unspoiled eyes.On that road we heard the song of morning stars; we drank in fragrances aerial and sweet as a May mist; we were rich in gossamer fancies and iris hopes; our hearts sought and found the boon of dreams; the years waited beyond and　

CHRISTIANITY AND THE COMMON LAW_To Dr. Thomas Cooper__Monticello, February 10, 1814_DEAR SIR, In my letter of January 16, I promised you asample from my common-place book, of the pious disposition of theEnglish judges, to connive at the frauds of the clergy, a dispositionwhich has even rendered them faithful allies in practice. When I wasa student of the law, now half a century ago, after getting throughCoke Littleton, whose matter cannot be abridged, I was in the habitof abridging and common-placing what I read meriting it, and ofsometimes mixing my own reflections on the subject. I now enclose...