FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTWO BROTHERSby Hans Christian AndersenON one of the Danish islands, where old Thingstones, the seatsof justice of our forefathers, still stand in the cornfields, and hugetrees rise in the forests of beech, there lies a little town whose lowhouses are covered with red tiles. In one of these houses strangethings were brewing over the glowing coals on the open hearth; therewas a boiling going on in glasses, and a mixing and distilling,while herbs were being cut up and pounded in mortars. An elderly manlooked after it all."One must only do the right thing," he said; "yes, the right-...　

The Maintenance of Free Tradeby Gerard de Malynes1622The Maintenance of Free Trade, According to the Three Essentiall Parts of Traffique; Namely Commodities, Moneys and Exchange of Moneys, by Bills of Exchanges for other Countries. Or answer to a Treatise of Free Trade, or the meanes to make Trade floushish, lately Published.Contraria iuxta se Pofita magis Elucescunt.by Gerard Malynes Merchant.London, Printed by I.L. for William Shefford, and are to be sold at his shop, at the entring in of Popes head Allie out of Lumbard Street, 1622.To The Most High and Mighty Monarch, James, by the grace of God, King of great Britaine, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, etc....　

WHY GO TO COLLEGE?WHY GO TOCOLLEGE?ALICE FREEMAN PALMERFormerly President of Wellesley College1- Page 2-WHY GO TO COLLEGE?To a largely increasing number of young girls college doors areopening every year. Every year adds to the number of men who feel as afriend of mine, a successful lawyer in a great city, felt when in talking ofthe future of his four little children he said, "For the two boys it is not soserious, but I lie down at night afraid to die and leave my daughters only a...　

Selected Prose of Oscar Wildeby Oscar WildeContents:Preface by Robert RossHow They Struck a ContemporaryThe Quality of George MeredithLife in the Fallacious ModelLife the DiscipleLife the PlagiaristThe Indispensable EastThe Influence of the Impressionists on ClimateAn Exposure to NaturalismThomas Griffiths WainewrightWainewright at Hobart TownCardinal Newman and the AutobiographiersRobert BrowningThe Two Supreme and Highest ArtsThe Secrets of ImmortalityThe Critic and his MaterialDante the Living GuideThe Limitations of GeniusWanted A New BackgroundWithout FrontiersThe Poetry of Archaeology...　

　　IT WAS THE PIVOTAL TEACHING of Pluthero Quexos, the most celebrated dramatist of the Second Dominion, that in any fiction, no matter how ambitious its scope or profound its theme, there was only ever room for three players. Between warring kings, a peacemaker; between adoring spouses, a seducer or a child. Between twins, the spirit of the womb. Between lovers, Death. Greater numbers might drift through the drama, of course-thousands in fact-but they could only ever be phantoms, agents, or, on rare occasions, reflections of the three real and self-willed beings who stood at the center. And even this essential trio would not remain intact; or so he taught. It would steadily diminish as the 　

Theodore Roosevelt; An Intimate Biography,by William Roscoe Thayer1919PREFACEIn finishing the correction of the last proofs of this sketch, I perceive that some of those who read it may suppose that I planned to write a deliberate eulogy of Theodore Roosevelt. This is not true. I knew him for forty years, but I never followed his political leadership. Our political differences, however, never lessened our personal friendship. Sometimes long intervals elapsed between our meetings, but when we met it was always with the same intimacy, and when we wrote it was with the same candor. I count it fortunate for me that during the last ten years of his life, I was thrown more with Roosevelt than dur　

The American RepublicCONSTITUTION, TENDENCIES, AND DESTINYby O. A. BrownsonTO THEHON. GEORGE BANCROFT,THE ERUDITE, PHILOSOPHICAL, AND ELOQUENTHistorian of the United States,THIS FEEBLE ATTEMPT TO SET FORTH THE PRINCIPLES OF GOVERN-MENT, AND TO EXPLAIN AND DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION OFTHE AMERICAN REPUBLIC, IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,IN MEMORY OF OLD FRIENDSHIP, AND AS ASLIGHT HOMAGE TO GENIUS, ABILITY,PATRIOTISM, PRIVATE WORTH,AND PUBLIC SERVICE,BY THE AUTHOR.CONTENTS.PAGECHAPTER I.INTRODUCTION 1CHAPTER II....　

　Neither do they expect trouble with a cargo that is sewn up tight.　Only a privileged few knew exactly when the Kruxator Collection would arrive in the country. That it was due to e to Britain was mon knowledge, and you had only to read a newspaper to discover that March 15th was the day on which the fabled group of paintings and jewellery were to go on display - for two weeks - at the Victoria and Albert Museum.　The Kruxator Collection is called after its founder, the late Niko Kruxator, whose fabulous wealth arose from sources unknown, for he had arrived penniless in the United States at about the time of the Wall Street Crash in October 1929. By the time he died in 1977, most people th　

A TREATISE ON PARENTS AND CHILDRENA TREATISE ONPARENTS ANDCHILDRENBY BERNARD SHAW1- Page 2-A TREATISE ON PARENTS AND CHILDRENTrailing Clouds of GloryChildhood is a stage in the process of that continual remanufacture ofthe Life Stuff by which the human race is perpetuated. The Life Forceeither will not or cannot achieve immortality except in very low organisms:indeed it is by no means ascertained that even the amoeba is immortal.Human beings visibly wear out, though they last longer than their friends...　

　This novel is dedicated to Stan, Christopher, Michele and Howard; to Rosario and Patrice; to Pamela and Elaine; and to Niccolo.　This novel is dedicated by Vittorio to the people of Florence, Italy.　　　1　WHO I AM, WHY I WRITE, WHAT IS TO E　　WHEN I was a small boy I had a terrible dream. I dreamt I held in my arms the severed heads of my younger brother I and sister. They were quick still, and mute, with big fluttering eyes, and reddened cheeks, and so horrified was I that I could make no more of a sound than they could. The dream came true.　But no one will weep for me or for them. They have been buried, nameless, beneath five centuries of time. I am a vampire.　My name is Vittorio, and I writ　

　To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates　From its own wreck the thing it contemplates.　Percy Bysshe Shelley,　Prometheus Unbound　Prologue　False Angels　　JERUSALEM　The wound was their path.　Nathan Lee Swift sat strapped in the belly of the cargo helicopter with a dozen assorted archangels, looking down upon what little remained. The earthquake was visible mostly by what was no longer visible. Cities and villages had simply vanished in puffs of dust. Even his ruins were gone. The map had gone blank.　The air was hot. It was summer. There was no horizon. The sands stretched into haze. He felt chained to the giant beside him, his former professor David Ochs. He had not wanted to leave, now he　

　DREAD　　THERE IS NO delight the equal of dread. If it were possible to sit, invisible, between two people on any train, in any waiting room or office, the conversation overheard would time and again circle on that subject. Certainly the debate might appear to be about something entirely different; the state of the nation, idle chat about death on the roads, the rising price of dental care; but strip away the metaphor, the innuendo, and there, nestling at the heart of the discourse, is dread. While the nature of God, and the possibility of eternal life go undiscussed, we happily chew over the minutiae of misery. The syndrome recognizes no boundaries; in bath-house and seminar-room alike, the