THE NEW MCGUFFEY FIRST READERTHE NEW MCGUFFEYFIRST READER1- Page 2-THE NEW MCGUFFEY FIRST READERPREFACEThe New McGuffey First Reader has been prepared in conformitywith the latest and most approved ideas regarding the teaching of reading,and its lessons embody and illustrate the best features of the word, thephonic, and the sentence or thought methods.While all the stories in this book are new, or have been rewritten...　

Majorie DawMajorie Dawby Thomas Bailey Aldrich1- Page 2-Majorie DawCHAPTER I.DR. DILLON TO EDWARD DELANEY, ESQ., AT THE PINES.NEAR RYE, N.H.August 8, 1872.My Dear Sir: I am happy to assure you that your anxiety is withoutreason. Flemming will be confined to the sofa for three or four weeks, andwill have to be careful at first how he uses his leg. A fracture of this kind is...　

THE UNDERGROUND WORKERSOn a bitter night somewhere between Christmas and the New Year, aman set out to walk to the neighbouring village. It was not manymiles off, but the snow was so thick that there were no roads, orwalls, or hedges left to guide him, and very soon he lost his wayaltogether, and was glad to get shelter from the wind behind athick juniper tree. Here he resolved to spend the night,thinking that when the sun rose he would be able to see his pathagain.So he tucked his legs snugly under him like a hedgehog, rolledhimself up in his sheepskin, and went to sleep. How long heslept, I cannot tell you, but after awhile he became aware thatsome one was gently shaking him, while a s　

The Village Watch-Towerby Kate Douglas WigginDear old apple-tree, under whose gnarled branches thesestories were written, to you I dedicate the book. My head wasso close to you, who can tell from whence the thoughts came?I only know that when all the other trees in the orchard were barren,there were always stories to be found under your branches, and so itis our joint book, dear apple-tree. Your pink blossoms have fallenon the page as I wrote; your ruddy fruit has dropped into my lap;the sunshine streamed through your leaves and tipped my pencil with gold.The birds singing in your boughs may have lent a sweet note hereand there; and do you remember the day when the gentle shower came?...　

White FangWhite FangJack London1- Page 2-White FangPART I2- Page 3-White FangCHAPTER I - THE TRAIL OF THE MEATDark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. Thetrees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost,and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in thefading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE DRYADby Hans Christian AndersenWE are travelling to Paris to the Exhibition.Now we are there. That was a journey, a flight without magic. Weflew on the wings of steam over the sea and across the land.Yes, our time is the time of fairy tales.We are in the midst of Paris, in a great hotel. Blooming flowersornament the staircases, and soft carpets the floors.Our room is a very cosy one, and through the open balcony doorwe have a view of a great square. Spring lives down there; it has cometo Paris, and arrived at the same time with us. It has come in the...　

Messer Marco PoloMesser Marco PoloBy Donn-Byrne(1889-1928)1- Page 2-Messer Marco PoloA NOTE ON THE AUTHOR OFMESSER MARCO POLOSo Celtic in feeling and atmosphere are the stories of Donn Byrne thatmany of his devotees have come to believe that he never lived anywherebut in Ireland. Actually, Donn Byrne was born in New York City. Shortlyafter his birth, however, his parents took him back to the land of his...　

The Lady, or the Tiger?by Frank R. StocktonIn the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whoseideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by theprogressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large,florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which wasbarbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of anauthority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his variedfancies into facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and,when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done.When every member of his domestic and political systems movedsmoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial;...　

Study of the King James BibleStudy of the King JamesBibleBY CLELAND BOYD McAFEE, D.D.1- Page 2-Study of the King James BiblePREFACETHE lectures included in this volume were prepared at the request ofthe Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences, and were delivered in theearly part of 1912, under its auspices. They were suggested by thetercentenary of the King James version of the Bible. The plan adopted led...　

1690CONCERNING CIVIL GOVERNMENT, SECOND ESSAYAN ESSAY CONCERNING THE TRUE ORIGINAL EXTENT ANDEND OF CIVIL GOVERNMENTby John LockeChapter IOf Political Power1. It having been shown in the foregoing discourse:** An Essay Concerning Certain False Principles.Firstly. That Adam had not, either by natural right of fatherhood orby positive donation from God, any such authority over his children,nor dominion over the world, as is pretended....　

ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETSANTHOLOGY OFMASSACHUSETTSPOETSWILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE, Editor1- Page 2-ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETSAMERICA THE BEAUTIFULO BEAUTIFUL for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, Forpurple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America!God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood >Fromsea to shining sea!O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Those stern, impassioned stress A...　

EvangelineA Tale of Acadieby Henry Wadsworth LongfellowTHIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring oceanSpeaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath itLeaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water t