Stories To Tell ChildrenStories To Tell Children1- Page 2-Stories To Tell ChildrenConcerning the fundamental points of method in telling a story, I havelittle to add to the principles which I have already stated as necessary, inmy opinion, in the book of which this is, in a way, the continuation. But inthe two years which have passed since that book was written, I have hadthe happiness of working on stories and the telling of them, amongteachers and students all over this country, and in that experience certain...　

　 Revelation 21:9　　1　　NIGHT FELL CLEAN and cold in Dublin, and wind moaned beyond my room as if a million pipes played the air. Gusts shook old windowpanes and sounded like spirits rushing past as I rearranged pillows one more time, finally resting on my back in a snarl of Irish linen. But sleep would not touch me, and images from the day returned. I saw bodies without limbs or heads, and sat up, sweating.　I switched on lamps, and the Shelbourne Hotel was suddenly around me in a warm glow of rich old woods and deep red plaids. I put on a robe, my eyes lingering on the phone by my fitfully-slept-in bed. It was almost two A.M. In Richmond, Virginia, it would be five hours earlier, and 　

　　I stood there on the beach and said, "Good-by, Butterfly," and the ship slowly turned, then headed out toward deep water. It would make it back into port at the lighthouse of Cabra, I knew, for that place lay near to Shadow.　Turning away, I regarded the black line of trees near at hand, knowing that a long walk lay ahead of me. I moved in that direction, making the necessary adjustments as I advanced. A pre-dawn chill lay upon the silent forest, and this was good.　I was perhaps fifty pounds underweight and still occasionally experienced double vision, but I was improving. I had escaped the dungeons of Amber and recuperated somewhat, with the assistance of mad Dworkin and drunken Jopin, in　

1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE TOADby Hans Christian AndersenTHE well was deep, and therefore the rope had to be a long one; itwas heavy work turning the handle when any one had to raise abucketful of water over the edge of the well. Though the water wasclear, the sun never looked down far enough into the well to mirroritself in the waters; but as far as its beams could reach, greenthings grew forth between the stones in the sides of the well.Down below dwelt a family of the Toad race. They had, in fact,come head-over-heels down the well, in the person of the oldMother-Toad, who was still alive. The green Frogs, who had beenestablished there a long time, and swam about in the　

David Elginbrodby George MacDonaldAnd gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche.CHAUCER.TO THE MEMORY OFLADY NOEL BYRON,THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED,WITH A LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.BOOK I.TURRIEPUFFIT.With him there was a Ploughman, was his brother.A trew?swinker, and a good was he,Living in peace and perfect charity.God loved he best with all his trew?heart,At all?tim閟, were it gain or smart,And then his neigh閎our right as himselve.CHAUCER.Prologue to the Canterbury Tales.CHAPTER I.THE FIR-WOOD.Of all the flowers in the mead,Then love I roost these flowers white and rede,Such that men callen daisies in our town....　

THE EVOLUTION OF MODERN MEDICINETHE EVOLUTION OFMODERN MEDICINEA SERIES OF LECTURES DELIVERED AT YALEUNIVERSITY ON THE SILLIMAN FOUNDATION IN APRIL, 1913by WILLIAM OSLER1- Page 2-THE EVOLUTION OF MODERN MEDICINETHE SILLIMAN FOUNDATIONIN the year 1883 a legacy of eighty thousand dollars was left to thePresident and Fellows of Yale College in the city of New Haven, to beheld in trust, as a gift from her children, in memory of their beloved and...　

THE LIGHT OF EGYPTTHE LIGHT OF EGYPT(OR THE SCIENCE OF THE SOUL AND THESTARS)VOLUME IITHOMAS H. BURGOYNE1- Page 2-THE LIGHT OF EGYPTZANONI"Write the things which thou hast seen, and the things which are, andthe things which shall be hereafter; THE MYSTERY OF THE SEVENSTARS, which thou sawest in my right hand." Revelations, Chap. I, 19and 20....　

　　December 6, 1996　　Epworth Heights Luddington, Michigan　　My Dearest Kay,　　1 am sitting on the porch, staring out at Lake Michigan as a sharp wind reminds me I need to cut my hair. 1 am remembering when we were here last, both of us abandoning who and what we are for one precious moment in the history of our time. Kay, I need you to listen to me.　　You are reading this because I am dead When I decided to write it, 1 asked Senator Lord to deliver it to you in person in the early part of December, a year after my death. I know how hard Christmas has always been for you, and now it must be unbearable. Loving you was when my life began. Now that it has ended, your gift to me is to go on....　

CHAPTER IBIRDS OF A FEATHER　　"YOUR mail, Mr. Rowden."　　"Ah, yes. Thank you."　　The switchboard operator passed a stack of envelopes to the man who stood in front of the lobby desk. Rowden smiled as he received the mail. He scanned the envelopes; then thrust them in his pocket and strolled into the elevator.　　The switchboard girl sighed as the door closed. It was not often that the Mallison Apartments received such debonair guests as Roke Rowden. Small and obscure in the midst of Manhattan, the Mallison catered chiefly to bargain-hunting tourists.　　Roke Rowden was a novelty. He had the bearing of a man-about-town. Suave to the points of his sharp-tipped mustache, friendly of eye and manner　

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　

The Diary of Samuel Pepysby Samuel PepysFROM 1659 TO 1669WITH MEMOIREdited by LORD BRAYBROOKEPREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITIONThe Celebrated work here presented to the public under peculiar advantages may require a few introductory remarks.By the publication, during the last half century, of autobiographies, Diaries, and Records of Personal Character; this class of literature has been largely enriched, not only with works calculated for the benefit of the student, but for that larger class of readersthe people, who in the byeways of History and Biography which these works present, gather much of the national life at many periods, and pictures of manners and customs, habits and amusements, such　

The Iron Puddlerby James J. DavisMY LIFE IN THE ROLLING MILLS AND WHAT CAME OF ITIntroduction by JOSEPH G. CANNONThe man whose life story is here presented between book covers is at the time of writing only forty-eight years old. When I met him many years ago he was a young man full of enthusiasm. I remember saying to him then, "With your enthusiasm and the sparkle which you have in your eyes I am sure you will make good."Why should so young a man, one so recently elevated to official prominence, write his memoirs? That question will occur to those who do not know Jim Davis. His elevation to a Cabinet post marks not the beginning of his career, but rather is the curtain-rise on the second a