A Millionaire of Rough-and-Readyby Bret HartePROLOGUEThere was no mistake this time: he had struck gold at last!It had lain there before him a moment agoa misshapen piece ofbrown-stained quartz, interspersed with dull yellow metal; yieldingenough to have allowed the points of his pick to penetrate itshoneycombed recesses, yet heavy enough to drop from the point ofhis pick as he endeavored to lift it from the red earth.He was seeing all this plainly, although he found himself, he knewnot why, at some distance from the scene of his discovery, hisheart foolishly beating, his breath impotently hurried. Yet he waswalking slowly and vaguely; conscious of stopping and staring at...　

The French Revolution, Volume 1.The Origins of Contemporary France, Volume 2by Hippolyte A. TaineCONTENTS:ANARCHYPREFACEBOOK FIRST. Spontaneous Anarchy.CHAPTER I. The Beginnings of AnarchyCHAPTER II. Paris up to the 14th of JulyCHAPTER III. Anarchy from July 14th to October 6th, 1789CHAPTER IV. PARISBOOK SECOND. The constituent Assembly, and the Result of its LaborsCHAPTER I. The Constituent AssemblyCHAPTER II. The DamageCHAPTER III. The Constructions - The Constitution of 1791....　

Manaliveby G. K. ChestertonTable of ContentsPart I: The Enigmas of Innocent SmithI. How the Great Wind Came to Beacon HouseII. The Luggage of an OptimistIII. The Banner of BeaconIV. The Garden of the GodV. The Allegorical Practical JokerPart II: The Explanations of Innocent SmithI. The Eye of Death; or, the Murder ChargeII. The Two Curates; or, the Burglary ChargeIII. The Round Road; or, the Desertion ChargeIV. The Wild Weddings; or, the Polygamy ChargeV. How the Great Wind went from Beacon House...　

The Sorrows of Young Wertherby J.W. von GoetheTranslated by Thomas Carlyle and R.D. BoylanPREFACEI have carefully collected whatever I have been able to learn ofthe story of poor Werther, and here present it to you, knowingthat you will thank me for it. To his spirit and character youcannot refuse your admiration and love: to his fate you will notdeny your tears.And thou, good soul, who sufferest the same distress as he enduredonce, draw comfort from his sorrows; and let this little book bethy friend, if, owing to fortune or through thine own fault, thoucanst not find a dearer companion.BOOK IMAY 4.How happy I am that I am gone! My dear friend, what a thing is...　

THE HOUSE OF PRIDETHE HOUSE OF PRIDEBy Jack London1- Page 2-THE HOUSE OF PRIDEPercival Ford wondered why he had come. He did not dance. Hedid not care much for army people. Yet he knew them allgliding andrevolving there on the broad lanai of the Seaside, the officers in theirfresh-starched uniforms of white, the civilians in white and black, andthe women bare of shoulders and arms. After two years in Honolulu...　

The Captivesby Hugh WalpoleTOARNOLD BENNETTWITH DEEP AFFECTION"I confess that I do not see why the very existence of an invisible world may not in part depend on the personal response which any of us may make to the religious appeal. God Himself, in short, may draw vital strength and increase of very being from our fidelity. For my own part I do not know what the sweat and blood and tragedy of this life mean, if they mean anything short of this. If this life be not a real fight, in which something is eternally gained for the universe by success, it is no better than a game of private theatricals from which one may withdraw at will. But it feels like a real fightas if there were something re　

Flip: A California Romanceby Bret HarteCHAPTER IJust where the track of the Los Gatos road streams on and upwardlike the sinuous trail of a fiery rocket until it is extinguishedin the blue shadows of the Coast Range, there is an embayed terracenear the summit, hedged by dwarf firs. At every bend of the heat-laden road the eye rested upon it wistfully; all along the flank ofthe mountain, which seemed to pant and quiver in the oven-like air,through rising dust, the slow creaking of dragging wheels, themonotonous cry of tired springs, and the muffled beat of plunginghoofs, it held out a promise of sheltered coolness and green...　

Tales of Troyby Andrew LangTALES OF TROY: ULYSSES THE SACKER OF CITIESContents:The Boyhood and Parents of UlyssesHow People Lived in the Time of UlyssesThe Wooing of Helen of the Fair HandsThe Stealing of HelenTrojan VictoriesBattle at the ShipsThe Slaying and Avenging of PatroclusThe Cruelty of Achilles, and the Ransoming of HectorHow Ulysses Stole the Luck of TroyThe Battles with the Amazons and Memnonthe Death of AchillesUlysses Sails to seek the Son of Achilles.The Valour of EurypylusThe Slaying of ParisHow Ulysses Invented the Device of the Horse of TreeThe End of Troy and the Saving of HelenTHE BOYHOOD AND PARENTS OF ULYSSES...　

The Hungry Stones And Other Storiesby Rabindranath TagoreContents:The Hungry StonesThe VictoryOnce There Was A KingThe Home-comingMy Lord, The BabyThe Kingdom Of CardsThe DevoteeVisionThe Babus Of NayanjoreLiving Or Dead?"We Crown Thee King"The RenunciationThe Cabuliwallah[The Fruitseller from Cabul]THE HUNGRY STONESMy kinsman and myself were returning to Calcutta from our Puja trip when we met the man in a train. From his dress and bearing we took him at first for an up-country Mahomedan, but we were puzzled as we heard himtalk. He discoursed upon all subjects so confidently that you might think the Disposer of All Things consulted him at all times in all that He did. Hitherto we had be　

The PrinceThe Princeby Nicolo MachiavelliTranslated by W. K. Marriott1- Page 2-The PrinceNicolo Machiavelli, born at Florence on 3rd May 1469. From 1494 to1512 held an official post at Florence which included diplomatic missionsto various European courts. Imprisoned in Florence, 1512; later exiled andreturned to San Casciano. Died at Florence on 22nd June 1527.2- Page 3-The PrinceINTRODUCTION...　

History Of The Mackenziesby Alexander MackenziePREFACETHE ORIGINAL EDITION of this work appeared in 1879, fifteen years ago. It was well received by the press, by the clan, and by all interested in the history of the Highlands. The best proof of this is the fact that the book has for several years been out of print, occasional second-hand copies of it coming into the market selling at a high premium on the original subscription price.Personally, however, I was never satisfied with it. It was my first clan history, and to say nothing of inevitable defects of style by a comparatively inexperienced hand, it was for several other reasons necessarily incomplete, and in many respects 　

　　Through the curtained windows of the furnished apartment which Mrs. Horace Hignett had rented for her stay in New York rays of golden sunlight peeped in like the foremost spies of some advancing army. It was a fine summer morning. The hands of the Dutch clock in the hall pointed to thirteen minutes past nine; those of the ormolu clock in the sitting-room to eleven minutes past ten; those of the carriage clock on the bookshelf to fourteen minutes to six. In other words, it was exactly eight; and Mrs. Hignett acknowledged the fact by moving her head on the pillow, opening her eyes, and sitting up in bed. She always woke at eight precisely.　Was this Mrs. Hignett the Mrs. Hignett, the world