THE HUNTING OF THE SNARKLewis CarrollTHE HUNTING OF THE SNARKan Agony in Eight FitsbyLewis CarrollPREFACEIf-and the thing is wildly possible-the charge of writing nonsensewere ever brought against the author of this brief but instructivepoem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the line (in p.4)"Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes."...　

Frederick the Great and His Familyby L. Muhlbach[Variant spellings: Louise Muhlbach, Luise Muhlbach and Luise von Muhlbach]TRANSLATED FROM GERMAN BYMRS. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAUGHTERSCONTENTS.BOOK I.I. The KingII. Prince HenryIII. Louise von KleistIV. At the Masked BallV. A Secret CaptainVI. The Legacy of Von Trenck, Colonel of the PandoursVII. The King and WeingartenVIII. The Unwilling BridegroomIX. The First DisappointmentX. The ConqueredXI. The Travelling MusiciansXII. Travelling AdventuresXIII. The Drag-BoatXIV. In AmsterdamXV. The King without Shoes...　

THE MONKEY AND THE JELLY-FISHChildren must often have wondered why jelly-fishes have noshells, like so many of the creatures that are washed up everyday on the beach. In old times this was not so; the jelly-fishhad as hard a shell as any of them, but he lost it through hisown fault, as may be seen in this story.The sea-queen Otohime, whom you read of in the story ofUraschimatoro, grew suddenly very ill. The swiftest messengerswere sent hurrying to fetch the best doctors from every countryunder the sea, but it was all of no use; the queen grew rapidlyworse instead of better. Everyone had almost given up hope, whenone day a doctor arrived who was cleverer than the rest, and said...　

A Far CountryBy Winston ChurchillI.My name is Hugh Paret. I was a corporation lawyer, but by no means atypical one, the choice of my profession being merely incidental, anddue, as will be seen, to the accident of environment. The book I amabout to write might aptly be called The Autobiography of a Romanticist.In that sense, if in no other, I have been a typical American, regardingmy country as the happy hunting-ground of enlightened self-interest, as afunction of my desires. Whether or not I have completely got rid of thisromantic virus I must leave to those the aim of whose existence is toeradicate it from our literature and our life. A somewhat Augean task!...　

Miss Billie Marriedby Eleanor H. PorterTOMy Cousin MaudCONTENTSCHAPTERI. SOME OPINIONS AND A WEDDINGII. FOR WILLIAMA HOMEIII. BILLY SPEAKS HER MINDIV. JUST LIKE BILLYV. TIGER SKINSVI. ``THE PAINTING LOOK'VII. THE BIG BAD QUARRELVIII. BILLY CULTIVATES A COMFORTABLE INDIFFERENCE'IX. THE DINNER BILLY TRIED TO GETX. THE DINNER BILLY GOTXI. CALDERWELL DOES SOME QUESTIONINGXII. FOR BILLYSOME ADVICEXIII. PETEXIV. WHEN BERTRAM CAME HOMEXV. AFTER THE STORMXVI. INTO TRAINING FOR MARY ELLEN...　

1872FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENWHAT THE MOON SAWby Hans Christian AndersenINTRODUCTIONIT is a strange thing, when I feel most fervently and most deeply,my hands and my tongue seem alike tied, so that I cannot rightlydescribe or accurately portray the thoughts that are rising within me;and yet I am a painter; my eye tells me as much as that, and all myfriends who have seen my sketches and fancies say the same.I am a poor lad, and live in one of the narrowest of lanes; butI do not want for light, as my room is high up in the house, with anextensive prospect over the neighbouring roofs. During the first fewdays I went to live in the town, I felt low-spirited and solitary...　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE METAL PIGby Hans Christian AndersenIN the city of Florence, not far from the Piazza del Granduca,runs a little street called Porta Rosa. In this street, just infront of the market-place where vegetables are sold, stands a pig,made of brass and curiously formed. The bright color has beenchanged by age to dark green; but clear, fresh water pours from thesnout, which shines as if it had been polished, and so indeed ithas, for hundreds of poor people and children seize it in theirhands as they place their mouths close to the mouth of the animal,...　

1859ON LIBERTYby John Stuart MillDEDICATIONThe grand, leading principle, towards which every argumentunfolded in these pages directly converges, is the absolute andessential importance of human development in its richest diversity.WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT: Sphere and Duties of Government.TO the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer,and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings- thefriend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was mystrongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief reward- I...　

　　If anything exists, it is inprehensible.　　If anything was prehensible,　　it would be inmunicable.　　　　- Gorgias　　　　　　PART ONENOTHING EXISTS　　　　　　1　　　　Two hours ago the Railway Expressman delivered the crated, newly published International Encyclopedia of Fine Arts to my Palm Beach apartment. I signed for the set, turned the thermostat of the air-conditioner up three degrees, found a clawhammer in the kitchen, and broke open the crate. Twenty-four beautiful buckram-bound volumes, eggshell paper, decide edged. Six laborious years in preparation, more than twenty-five hundred illustrations- 436 in full-color plates-and each thoroughly researched article written and signed by a noted authority 　

　TO TRACEY　We praise the Golden One, the Lady of Heaven, Lady of Fragrance,Eye of the Sun, the Great Goddess,Mistress of All the Gods,Lady of Turquoise, Mistress of Joy, Mistress of Music . . .that she may give us fine children,happiness, and a good husband.　　- Epithets of Hathor,piled from various sources　　 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS　　To err is human, and I am and I do, despite the fact that I go to considerable effort to get even small details right. I do not scruple to make use of my friends in this endeavor; several of them have read all or part of the manuscript and made suggestions. I am particularly indebted to Tim Hardman and Ann Crispin, for setting me straight on the (to me) esoteric subject　

Chapter 1The great fish moved silently through the night water, propelled by short sweeps of its crescent tail. The mouth was open just enough to permit a rush of water over the gills. There was little other motion: an occasional correction of the apparently aimless course by the slight raising or lowering of a pectoral fin - as a bird changes direction by dipping one wing and lifting the other. The eyes were sightless in the black, and the other senses transmitted nothing extraordinary to the small, primitive brain. The fish might have been asleep, save for the movement dictated by countless millions of years of instinctive continuity: lacking the flotation bladder mon to other fish and th　

　　　　I HAD BEEN making the rounds of the Sacrifice Poles the day we heard my brother had escaped. I already knew something was going to happen; the Factory told me.　　　　At the north end of the island, near the tumbled remains of the slip where the handle of the rusty winch still creaks in an easterly wind, I had two Poles on the far face of the last dune. One of the Poles held a rat head with two dragonflies, the other a seagull and two mice. I was just sticking one of the mouse heads back on when the birds went up into the evening air, kaw-calling and screaming, wheeling over the path through the dunes where it went near their nests. I made sure the head was secure, then clambered to the top