The Rise and Progress of Palaeontologyby Thomas Henry HuxleyThat application of the sciences of biology and geology, whichis commonly known as palaeontology, took its origin in the mindof the first person who, finding something like a shell, or abone, naturally imbedded in gravel or rock, indulged inspeculations upon the nature of this thing which he had dug outthis "fossil"and upon the causes which had brought it intosuch a position. In this rudimentary form, a high antiquity maysafely be ascribed to palaeontology, inasmuch as we know that,500 years before the Christian era, the philosophic doctrines ofXenophanes were influenced by his observations upon the fossil...　

THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONATHE TWOGENTLEMEN OFVERONAWilliam ShakespeareWilliam ShakespeareWilliam ShakespeareWilliam Shakespeare15951- Page 2-THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONAACT I.2- Page 3-THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONASCENE I. Verona. An open placeEnter VALENTINE and PROTEUSVALENTINE. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Home-keeping...　

The Higher Learning In America: A Memorandum On the Conduct ofUniversities By Business Menby Thorstein Veblen1918PREFACEIt is something more than a dozen years since the followingobservations on American academic life were first assembled inwritten form. In the meantime changes of one kind and anotherhave occurred, although not such as to alter the course of policywhich has guided American universities. Lines of policy whichwere once considered to be tentative and provisional have sincethen passed into settled usage. This altered and more stable...　

POETICSby AristotleTranslated by S. H. ButcherPOETICS|1II PROPOSE to treat of Poetry in itself and of its various kinds,noting the essential quality of each, to inquire into the structure ofthe plot as requisite to a good poem; into the number and nature ofthe parts of which a poem is composed; and similarly into whateverelse falls within the same inquiry. Following, then, the order ofnature, let us begin with the principles which come first.Epic poetry and Tragedy, Comedy also and Dithyrambic poetry, and themusic of the flute and of the lyre in most of their forms, are all...　

THE GOLDEN BRANCHONCE upon a time there was a King who was so morose anddisagreeable that he was feared by all his subjects, and withgood reason, as for the most trifling offences he would have theirheads cut off. This King Grumpy, as he was called, had oneson, who was as different from his father as he could possibly be.No prince equalled him in cleverness and kindness of heart, butunfortunately he was most terribly ugly. He had crooked legs andsquinting eyes, a large mouth all on one side, and a hunchback.Never was there a beautiful soul in such a frightful little body, butin spite of his appearance everybody loved him. The Queen, his...　

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　

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