I found what follows lying on my desk one morning.　As you will see, it appears to be the first-person story of a young woman, evidently beautiful and not unskilled in the arts of love.　According to her story, she appears to have been involved, both perilously and romantically, with the same James Bond whose secret-service exploits I myself have written from time to time.　With the manuscript was a note signed "Vivienne Michel," assuring me that what she had written was purest truth and from the depths of her heart.　I was much interested in this view of James Bond, through the wrong end of the telescope, so to speak, and, after obtaining clearance for certain minor infringements of the Offic　

End of the Tetherby Joseph ConradIFor a long time after the course of the steamer Sofalahad been altered for the land, the low swampy coast hadretained its appearance of a mere smudge of darknessbeyond a belt of glitter. The sunrays seemed to fallviolently upon the calm seaseemed to shatter them-selves upon an adamantine surface into sparkling dust,into a dazzling vapor of light that blinded the eye andwearied the brain with its unsteady brightness.Captain Whalley did not look at it. When hisSerang, approaching the roomy cane arm-chair which...　

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTLike most other young matrons, Meg began her married life with the determination to be a model housekeeper. John should find home a paradise, he should always see a smiling face, should fare sumptuously every day, and never know the loss of a button. She brought so much love, energy, and cheerfulness to the work that she could not but succeed, in spite of some obstacles. Her paradise was not a tranquil one, for the little woman fussed, was over-anxious to please, and bustled about like a true Martha, cumbered with many cares. She was too tired, sometimes, even to smile, John grew dyspeptic after a course of dainty dishes and ungratefully demanded plain fare. As for butto　

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH OTHER, THE ONE AS MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN.Mr Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron, - at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing old.Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen　

THE COMPARISON OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUSby Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenTHESE are the memorable things I have found in historians concerningMarcellus and Pelopidas. Betwixt which two great men, though innatural character and manners they nearly resemble each other, becauseboth were valiant and diligent, daring and high-spirited, there wasyet some diversity in the one point, that Marcellus in many citieswhich he reduced under his power committed great slaughter; butEpaminondas and Pelopidas never after any victory put men to death, orreduced citizens to slavery. And we are told, too, that the Thebans...　

APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION (1829), p. 　

Rowdy of the Cross Lby B. M. Bower (B.M. Sinclair)CONTENTS1. Lost in a Blizzard2. Miss Conroy Refuses Shelter3. Rowdy Hires a New Boss4. Pink as "Chappyrone"5. At Home at Cross L6. A Shot From the Dark7. Rowdy in a Tough Place8. Pink in a Threatening Mood9. Moving the Herd10. Harry Conroy at Home11. Rowdy Promoted12. "You Can Tell Jessie"13. Rowdy Finds HappinessCHAPTER 1Lost in a Blizzard."Rowdy" Vaughanhe had been christened Rowland by his mother, andrechristened Rowdy by his cowboy friends, who are prone to treat with muchirreverence the names bestowed by motherswas not happy. He stood in thestirrups and shook off the thick layer of snow which clung, damp and...　

Wild Walesby George BorrowIts People, Language and SceneryINTRODUCTORYWALES is a country interesting in many respects, and deserving ofmore attention than it has hitherto met with. Though not veryextensive, it is one of the most picturesque countries in theworld, a country in which Nature displays herself in her wildest,boldest, and occasionally loveliest forms. The inhabitants, whospeak an ancient and peculiar language, do not call this regionWales, nor themselves Welsh. They call themselves Cymry or Cumry,and their country Cymru, or the land of the Cumry. Wales orWallia, however, is the true, proper, and without doubt original...　

The Pathfinder, or, The Inland Seaby James Fenimore CooperPREFACEThe plan of this tale suggested itself to the writer manyyears since, though the details are altogether of recent in-vention. The idea of associating seamen and savages inincidents that might be supposed characteristic of theGreat Lakes having been mentioned to a Publisher, thelatter obtained something like a pledge from the Authorto carry out the design at some future day, which pledgeis now tardily and imperfectly redeemed.The reader may recognize an old friend under new cir-cumstances in the principal character of this legend. Ifthe exhibition made of this old acquaintance, in the novel...　

TEA-TABLE TALKTEA-TABLE TALKby Jerome K. Jerome1- Page 2-TEA-TABLE TALKCHAPTER I"They are very pretty, some of them," said the Woman of the World;"not the sort of letters I should have written myself.""I should like to see a love-letter of yours," interrupted the Minor Poet."It is very kind of you to say so," replied the Woman of the World. "Itnever occurred to me that you would care for one.""It is what I have always maintained," retorted the Minor Poet; "you...　

The Way of All Fleshby Samuel ButlerCHAPTER IWhen I was a small boy at the beginning of the century I remember anold man who wore knee-breeches and worsted stockings, and who usedto hobble about the street of our village with the help of a stick.He must have been getting on for eighty in the year 1807, earlierthan which date I suppose I can hardly remember him, for I was bornin 1802. A few white locks hung about his ears, his shoulders werebent and his knees feeble, but he was still hale, and was muchrespected in our little world of Paleham. His name was Pontifex.His wife was said to be his master; I have been told she brought hima little money, but it cannot have been much. She was a ta　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE SNOWDROPby Hans Christian AndersenIT was winter-time; the air was cold, the wind was sharp, butwithin the closed doors it was warm and comfortable, and within theclosed door lay the flower; it lay in the bulb under thesnow-covered earth.One day rain fell. The drops penetrated through the snowy coveringdown into the earth, and touched the flower-bulb, and talked of thebright world above. Soon the Sunbeam pierced its way through thesnow to the root, and within the root there was a stirring."Come in," said the flower."I cannot," said the Sunbeam. "I am not strong enough to unlock...