AN ODYSSEY OF THE NORTH.ITHE SLEDS WERE SINGING their eternal lament to the creaking of theharness and the tinkling bells of the leaders; but the men and dogswere tired and made no sound. The trail was heavy with new-fallensnow, and they had come far, and the runners, burdened with flint-likequarters of frozen moose, clung tenaciously to the unpacked surfaceand held back with a stubbornness almost human. Darkness was comingon, but there was no camp to pitch that night. The snow fell gentlythrough the pulseless air, not in flakes, but in tiny frost crystalsof delicate design. It was very warm- barely ten below zero- and the...　

The Life and Adventures of Santa Clauseby L. Frank BaumContentsYOUTH1. Burzee2. The Child of the Forest3. The Adoption4. Claus5. The Master Woodsman6. Claus Discovers Humanity7. Claus Leaves the ForestMANHOOD1. The Laughing Valley2. How Claus Made the First Toy3. How the Ryls Colored the Toys4. How Little Mayrie Became Frightened5. How Bessie Blithesome Came to the Laughing Valley6. The Wickedness of the Awgwas7. The Great Battle Between Good and Evil8. The First Journey with the Reindeer9. "Santa Claus!"10. Christmas Eve11. How the First Stockings Were Hung by the Chimneys12. The First Christmas TreeOLD AGE...　

The Vanished Messengerby E. Phillips OppenheimCHAPTER IThere were very few people upon Platform Number Twenty-one ofLiverpool Street Station at a quarter to nine on the eveningof April 2 - possibly because the platform in question is one ofthe most remote and least used in the great terminus. Thestation-master, however, was there himself, with an inspector inattendance. A dark, thick-set man, wearing a long travellingulster and a Homburg hat, and carrying in his hand a brown leatherdressing-case, across which was painted in black letters the nameMR. JOHN P. DUNSTER, was standing a few yards away, smoking along cigar, and, to all appearance absorbed in studying the...　

Mark Twain, A Biography, 1900-1907By Albert Bigelow PaineVOLUME III, Part 1: 1900-1907CCXIITHE RETURN OF THE CONQUERORIt would be hard to exaggerate the stir which the newspapers and thepublic generally made over the homecoming of Mark Twain. He had leftAmerica, staggering under heavy obligation and set out on a pilgrimage ofredemption. At the moment when this Mecca, was in view a great sorrowhad befallen him and, stirred a world-wide and soul-deep tide of humansympathy. Then there had followed such ovation as has seldom beenconferred upon a private citizen, and now approaching old age, still inthe fullness of his mental vigor, he had returned to his native soil with...　

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　

Ragged Lady, v2by William Dean HowellsPart 2XV.Mrs. Lander went to a hotel in New York where she had been in the habitof staying with her husband, on their way South or North. The clerk knewher, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she couldhave her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up theirhand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her witha smile of remembrance.Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had noexcuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went withClementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found themplaces, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served　

Droll Stories [V. 3]by Honore de BalzacCOLLECTED FROM THE ABBEYS OF TOURAINEVOLUME III: THE THIRD TEN TALESCONTENTSTHE THIRD TEN TALESPROLOGUEPERSEVERANCE IN LOVECONCERNING A PROVOST WHO DID NOT RECOGNISE THINGSABOUT THE MONK AMADOR, WHO WAS A GLORIOUS ABBOT OF TURPENAYBERTHA THE PENITENTHOW THE PRETTY MAID OF PORTILLON CONVINCED HER JUDGEIN WHICH IT IS DEMONSTRATED THAT FORTUNE IS ALWAYS FEMININECONCERNING A POOR MAN WHO WAS CALLED LE VIEUX PAR-CHEMINSODD SAYINGS OF THREE PILGRIMSINNOCENCETHE FAIR IMPERIA MARRIEDTHIRD TEN TALESPROLOGUE...　

The Soul of the Far Eastby Percival LowellContentsChapter 1. IndividualityChapter 2. FamilyChapter 3. AdoptionChapter 4. LanguageChapter 5. Nature and ArtChapter 6. ArtChapter 7. ReligionChapter 8. ImaginationChapter 1. Individuality.The boyish belief that on the other side of our globe all things are of necessity upside down is startlingly brought back to the man when he first sets foot at Yokohama. If his initial glance does not, to be sure, disclose the natives in the every-day feat of standing calmly on their heads, an attitude which his youthful imagination conceived to be a necessary consequence of their geographical position, it does at least reveal them looking at the world as if 　

DRAKESTAILDRAKESTAIL was very little, that is why he was called Drakestail;but tiny as he was he had brains, and he knew what hewas about, for having begun with nothing he ended by amassing ahundred crowns. Now the King of the country, who was veryextravagant and never kept any money, having heard that Drakestailhad some, went one day in his own person to borrow his hoard, and,my word, in those days Drakestail was not a little proud of havinglent money to the King. But after the first and second year, seeingthat they never even dreamed of paying the interest, he becameuneasy, so much so that at last he resolved to go and see His Majesty...　

PRINCE RING [30][30] From the Icelandic.Once upon a time there was a King and his Queen in their kingdom.They had one daughter, who was called Ingiborg, and one son,whose name was Ring. He was less fond of adventures than men ofrank usually were in those days, and was not famous for strengthor feats of arms. When he was twelve years old, one fine winterday he rode into the forest along with his men to enjoy himself.They went on a long way, until they caught sight of a hind with agold ring on its horns. The Prince was eager to catch it, ifpossible, so they gave chase and rode on without stopping untilall the horses began to founder beneath them. At last the...　

TIMOLEON411?-337 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenIT was for the sake of others that I first commenced writingbiographies; but I find myself proceeding and attaching myself to itfor my own; the virtues of these great men serving me as a sort oflooking-glass, in which I may see how to adjust and adorn my own life.Indeed, it can be compared to nothing but daily living and associatingtogether; we receive, as it were, in our inquiry, and entertain eachsuccessive guest, view-"Their stature and their qualities,"...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE ELF OF THE ROSEby Hans Christian AndersenIN the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full blossom, and inthe prettiest of all the roses lived an elf. He was such a littlewee thing, that no human eye could see him. Behind each leaf of therose he had a sleeping chamber. He was as well formed and as beautifulas a little child could be, and had wings that reached from hisshoulders to his feet. Oh, what sweet fragrance there was in hischambers! and how clean and beautiful were the walls! for they werethe blushing leaves of the rose.During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm sunshine, flew...