THE PATCHWORK GIRL OF OZby L. FRANK BAUMAffectionately dedicated to my young friendSumner Hamilton Britton of ChicagoPrologueThrough the kindness of Dorothy Gale of Kansas,afterward Princess Dorothy of Oz, an humble writerin the United States of America was once appointedRoyal Historian of Oz, with the privilege ofwriting the chronicle of that wonderful fairyland.But after making six books about the adventures ofthose interesting but queer people who live in theLand of Oz, the Historian learned with sorrow thatby an edict of the Supreme Ruler, Ozma of Oz, her...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE SNOW MANby Hans Christian Andersen"IT is so delightfully cold," said the Snow Man, "that it makes mywhole body crackle. This is just the kind of wind to blow life intoone. How that great red thing up there is staring at me!" He meant thesun, who was just setting. "It shall not make me wink. I shallmanage to keep the pieces."He had two triangular pieces of tile in his head, instead of eyes;his mouth was made of an old broken rake, and was, of course,furnished with teeth. He had been brought into existence amidst thejoyous shouts of boys, the jingling of sleigh-bells, and the...　

To be Read at Duskby Charles DickensOne, two, three, four, five. There were five of them.Five couriers, sitting on a bench outside the convent on the summitof the Great St. Bernard in Switzerland, looking at the remoteheights, stained by the setting sun as if a mighty quantity of redwine had been broached upon the mountain top, and had not yet hadtime to sink into the snow.This is not my simile. It was made for the occasion by thestoutest courier, who was a German. None of the others took anymore notice of it than they took of me, sitting on another bench onthe other side of the convent door, smoking my cigar, like them,...　

The Peterkin Papers By Lucretia P. HaleMrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee.Dedicated To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) To Whom These Stories Were First ToldThe Peterkin Papers By Lucretia P. HalePreface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin PapersTHE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for the "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in numbers of the "St. Nicholas."A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never before been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm."It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter to the l　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE GIRL WHO TROD ON THE LOAFby Hans Christian AndersenTHERE was once a girl who trod on a loaf to avoid soiling hershoes, and the misfortunes that happened to her in consequence arewell known. Her name was Inge; she was a poor child, but proud andpresuming, and with a bad and cruel disposition. When quite a littlechild she would delight in catching flies, and tearing off theirwings, so as to make creeping things of them. When older, she wouldtake cockchafers and beetles, and stick pins through them. Then shepushed a green leaf, or a little scrap of paper towards their feet,...　

History Of The BritonsHistory Of The BritonsNenniusTranslated by J. A. Giles1- Page 2-History Of The BritonsI. The Prologue.1. Nennius, the lowly minister and servant of the servants of God, bythe grace of God, disciple of St. Elbotus,* to all the followers of truthsendeth health. * Or Elvod, bishop of Bangor, A.D. 755, who first adoptedin the Cambrian church the new cycle for regulating Easter.Be it known to your charity, that being dull in intellect and rude of...　

Novel Notesby Jerome K. JeromePROLOGUEYears ago, when I was very small, we lived in a great house in a long, straight, brown-coloured street, in the east end of London. It was a noisy, crowded street in the daytime; but a silent, lonesome street at night, when the gas-lights, few and far between, partook of the character of lighthouses rather than of illuminants, and the tramp, tramp of the policeman on his long beat seemed to be ever drawing nearer, or fading away, except for brief moments when the footsteps ceased, as he paused to rattle a door or window, or to flash his lantern into some dark passage leading down towards the river.The house had many advantages, so my father would explain　

LOST FACELOST FACEby Jack London1- Page 2-LOST FACELOST FACEIt was the end. Subienkow had travelled a long trail of bitterness andhorror, homing like a dove for the capitals of Europe, and here, fartheraway than ever, in Russian America, the trail ceased. He sat in the snow,arms tied behind him, waiting the torture. He stared curiously before himat a huge Cossack, prone in the snow, moaning in his pain. The men had...　

　　The caretaker stirred when he heard the crunch of tires on gravel. There was barely any light left in the sky, and he had just made coffee and was reluctant to get up. But his curiosity got the better of him. Visitors to Alexandria seldom ventured into the cemetery at Ivy Hill; the historic town on the Potomac had a brace of other, more colorful attractions and amusements to offer the living. As for the locals, not many came out on a weekday; fewer still on a late afternoon when the April rains lashed the sky.　Peering through his gatehouse window, the caretaker saw a man get out of an ordinary-looking sedan. Government? He guessed that his visitor was in his early forties, tall and very f　

The hill people and the Mexicans arrived on the same day. It was a Wednesday, early in September 1952. The Cardinals were five games behind the Dodgers with three weeks to go, and the season looked hopeless. The cotton, however, was waist-high to my father, over my head, and he and my grandfather could be heard before supper whispering words that were seldom heard. It could be a "good crop."They were farmers, hardworking men who embraced pessimism only when discussing the weather and the crops. There was too much sun, or too much rain, or the threat of floods in the lowlands, or the rising prices of seed and fertilizer, or the uncertainties of the markets. On the most perfect of days, my mo　

　　1　　World Without End　　If a killing type of virus strain should suddenly arise by mutation ... it could, because of the rapid transportation in which we indulge nowadays, be carried to the far corners of the earth and cause the deaths of millions of people.　　- W. M. Stanley, in Chemical and Engineering News, Dec. 22, 1947.　　　　Chapter 1　　... and the government of the United States of America is herewith suspended, except in the District of Columbia, as of the emergency. Federal officers, including those of the Armed Forces, will put themselves under the orders of the governors of the various states or of any other functioning local authority. By order of the Acting President. God save the p　

　　　　All men are born condemned, so the wise say. All suckle the breast of Death.　　All bow before that Silent Monarch. That Lord in Shadow lifts a finger. A feather flutters to the earth. There is no reason in His song. The good go young. The wicked prosper. He is king of the Chaos Lords, His breath stills all souls.　　We found a city dedicated to His worship, long ago, but so old now it has lost that dedication. The dark majesty of his godhead has frayed, been forgotten by all but those who stand in his shadow. But Juniper faced a more immediate fear, a specter from yesteryear leaking into the present upon a height overlooking the city. And because of that the Black pany went there, to that