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　

　　IT WAS nothing out of the ordinary that Mrs. Barry Rackham had made the appointment with her finger pressed to her lips. That is by no means an unusual gesture for people who find themselves in a situation where the best thing they can think of is to make arrangements to see Nero Wolfe.　　With Mrs. Barry Rackham the shushing finger was only figurative, since she made the date speaking to me on the phone. It was in her voice, low and jerky, and also in the way she kept telling me how confidential it was, even after I solemnly assured her that we rarely notified the press when someone requested an appointment on business. At the end she told me once more that she would have preferred to spea　

CAMILLUS445?-365 B.C.by Plutarchtranslated by John DrydenAMONG the many remarkable things that are related of FuriusCamillus, it seems singular and strange above all, that he, whocontinually was in the highest commands, and obtained the greatestsuccesses, was five times chosen dictator, triumphed four times, andwas styled a second founder of Rome, yet never was so much as onceconsul. The reason of which was the state and temper of thecommonwealth at that time; for the people, being at dissension withthe senate, refused to return consuls, but in their stead elected...　

THE UNDERGROUND WORKERSOn a bitter night somewhere between Christmas and the New Year, aman set out to walk to the neighbouring village. It was not manymiles off, but the snow was so thick that there were no roads, orwalls, or hedges left to guide him, and very soon he lost his wayaltogether, and was glad to get shelter from the wind behind athick juniper tree. Here he resolved to spend the night,thinking that when the sun rose he would be able to see his pathagain.So he tucked his legs snugly under him like a hedgehog, rolledhimself up in his sheepskin, and went to sleep. How long heslept, I cannot tell you, but after awhile he became aware thatsome one was gently shaking him, while a s　

The CenciBy Alexander Dumas, pereTHE CENCI1598Should you ever go to Rome and visit the villa Pamphili, no doubt,after having sought under its tall pines and along its canals theshade and freshness so rare in the capital of the Christian world,you will descend towards the Janiculum Hill by a charming road, inthe middle of which you will find the Pauline fountain. Havingpassed this monument, and having lingered a moment on the terrace ofthe church of St. Peter Montorio, which commands the whole of Rome,you will visit the cloister of Bramante, in the middle of which, sunka few feet below the level, is built, on the identical place where...　

Twenty Years Afterby Alexandre Dumas [Pere]1The Shade of Cardinal Richelieu.In a splendid chamber of the Palais Royal, formerly styledthe Palais Cardinal, a man was sitting in deep reverie, hishead supported on his hands, leaning over a gilt and inlaidtable which was covered with letters and papers. Behind thisfigure glowed a vast fireplace alive with leaping flames;great logs of oak blazed and crackled on the polished brassandirons whose flicker shone upon the superb habiliments ofthe lonely tenant of the room, which was illumined grandlyby twin candelabra rich with wax-lights.Any one who happened at that moment to contemplate that redsimar the gorgeous robe of office and the rich lace,.　

EvangelineA Tale of Acadieby Henry Wadsworth LongfellowTHIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring oceanSpeaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath itLeaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water t　

THE LITTLE GREEN FROG[8][8] Cabinet des Fees.In a part of the world whose name I forget lived once upon a timetwo kings, called Peridor and Diamantino. They were cousins aswell as neighbours, and both were under the protection of thefairies; though it is only fair to say that the fairies did notlove them half so well as their wives did.Now it often happens that as princes can generally manage to gettheir own way it is harder for them to be good than it is forcommon people. So it was with Peridor and Diamantino; but of thetwo, the fairies declared that Diamantino was much the worst;indeed, he behaved so badly to his wife Aglantino, that the...　

THE LOVE OF ULRICH NEBENDAHLBy JEROME K. JEROMEPerhaps of all, it troubled most the Herr Pfarrer. Was he not thefather of the village? And as such did it not fall to him to see hischildren marry well and suitably? marry in any case. It was the dutyof every worthy citizen to keep alive throughout the ages the sacredhearth fire, to rear up sturdy lads and honest lassies that wouldserve God, and the Fatherland. A true son of Saxon soil was the HerrPastor Winckelmannkindly, simple, sentimental."Why, at your age, Ulrichat your age," repeated the Herr Pastor,setting down his beer and wiping with the back of his hand his largeuneven lips, "I was the father of a familytwo boys and a girl. You.　

JESPER WHO HERDED THE HARESThere was once a king who ruled over a kingdom somewhere betweensunrise and sunset. It was as small as kingdoms usually were inold times, and when the king went up to the roof of his palaceand took a look round he could see to the ends of it in everydirection. But as it was all his own, he was very proud of it,and often wondered how it would get along without him. He hadonly one child, and that was a daughter, so he foresaw that shemust be provided with a husband who would be fit to be king afterhim. Where to find one rich enough and clever enough to be asuitable match for the princess was what troubled him, and oftenkept him awake at night....　

THE COLOUR OF LIFETHE COLOUR OF LIFE1- Page 2-THE COLOUR OF LIFETHE COLOUR OF LIFERed has been praised for its nobility as the colour of life. But the truecolour of life is not red. Red is the colour of violence, or of life brokenopen, edited, and published. Or if red is indeed the colour of life, it is soonly on condition that it is not seen. Once fully visible, red is the colour oflife violated, and in the act of betrayal and of waste. Red is the secret oflife, and not the manifestation thereof. It is one of the things the value of...　

The Swiss TwinsBy Lucy Fitch PerkinsCONTENTSI. THE RESPONSIBLE CUCKOOII. THE TWINS LEARN A NEW TRADEIII. A MOUNTAIN STORMIV. THE LONELY HERDSMANV. THE PASSVI. NEW FRIENDS AND OLDThis book belongs toI. THE RESPONSIBLE CUCKOOTHE RESPONSIBLE CUCKOOHigh on the kitchen wall of an old farm-house on a mountainsidein Switzerland there hangs a tiny wooden clock. In the tinywooden clock there lives a tiny wooden cuckoo, and every hour hehops out of his tiny wooden door, takes a look about to see whatis going on in the world, shouts out the time of day, and popsback again into his little dark house, there to wait and tick...