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...　

Smoke BellewSmoke Bellewby Jack London1- Page 2-Smoke BellewTHE TASTE OF THE MEAT.I.In the beginning he was Christopher Bellew. By the time he was atcollege he had become Chris Bellew. Later, in the Bohemian crowd ofSan Francisco, he was called Kit Bellew. And in the end he was knownby no other name than Smoke Bellew. And this history of the evolutionof his name is the history of his evolution. Nor would it have happened...　

FINALE.Every limit is a beginning as well as an ending. Who can quit younglives after being long in company with them, and not desire to knowwhat befell them in their after-years? For the fragment of a life,however typical, is not the sample of an even web: promises maynot be kept, and an ardent outset may be followed by declension;latent powers may find their long-waited opportunity; a past errormay urge a grand retrieval.Marriage, which has been the bourne of so many narratives,is still a great beginning, as it was to Adam and Eve, who kepttheir honeymoon in Eden, but had their first little one among thethorns and thistles of the wilderness. It is still the beginning...　

The Lodgerby Marie Belloc Lowndes"Lover and friend hast thou put far from me, and mine acquaintance into darkness." PSALM lxxxviii. 18CHAPTER IRobert Bunting and Ellen his wife sat before their dully burning, carefully-banked-up fire.The room, especially when it be known that it was part of a house standing in a grimy, if not exactly sordid, London thoroughfare, was exceptionally clean and well-cared-for. A casual stranger, more particularly one of a Superior class to their own, on suddenly opening the door of that sitting-room; would have thought that Mr. and Mrs. Bunting presented a very pleasant cosy picture of comfortable married life. Bunting, who was leaning back in a deep leather 　

Inhabitants of the Alhambra.I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has beentenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its inhabitantsin the day of its decline, and that the palace of a king commonly endsin being the nestling-place of the beggar.The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar transition. Whenever atower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some tatterdemalion family,who become joint-tenants, with the bats and owls, of its gilded halls,and hang their rags, those standards of poverty, out of its windowsand loopholes.I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley characters...　

A LONELY RIDEAs I stepped into the Slumgullion stage I saw that it was a darknight, a lonely road, and that I was the only passenger. Let meassure the reader that I have no ulterior design in making thisassertion. A long course of light reading has forewarned me whatevery experienced intelligence must confidently look for from sucha statement. The storyteller who willfully tempts Fate by suchobvious beginnings; who is to the expectant reader in danger ofbeing robbed or half-murdered, or frightened by an escaped lunatic,or introduced to his ladylove for the first time, deserves to bedetected. I am relieved to say that none of these things occurred...　

The Hunchback of Notre Dameby Victor HugoPREFACE.A few years ago, while visiting or, rather, rummaging about Notre-Dame, the author of this book found, in an obscure nook of one of the towers, the following word, engraved by hand upon the wall:~ANArKH~.These Greek capitals, black with age, and quite deeply graven in the stone, with I know not what signs peculiar to Gothic caligraphy imprinted upon their forms and upon their attitudes, as though with the purpose of revealing that it had been a hand of the Middle Ages which had inscribed them there, and especially the fatal and melancholy meaning contained in them, struck the author deeply.He questioned himself; he sought to divine who could 　

FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENTHE BRAVE TIN SOLDIERby Hans Christian AndersenTHERE were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers, who were allbrothers, for they had been made out of the same old tin spoon. Theyshouldered arms and looked straight before them, and wore a splendiduniform, red and blue. The first thing in the world they ever heardwere the words, "Tin soldiers!" uttered by a little boy, who clappedhis hands with delight when the lid of the box, in which they lay, wastaken off. They were given him for a birthday present, and he stood atthe table to set them up. The soldiers were all exactly alike,...　

Lay Moralsby Robert Louis StevensonCHAPTER 1THE problem of education is twofold: first to know, and then to utter. Every one who lives any semblance of an inner life thinks more nobly and profoundly than he speaks; and the best of teachers can impart only broken images of the truth which they perceive. Speech which goes from one to another between two natures, and, what is worse, between two experiences, is doubly relative. The speaker buries his meaning; it is for the hearer to dig it up again; and all speech, written or spoken, is in a dead language until it finds a willing and prepared hearer. Such, moreover, is the complexity of life, that when we condescend upon details i　

Letters on LiteratureLetters on LiteratureBy Andrew Lang1- Page 2-Letters on LiteratureDEDICATIONDear Mr. Way,After so many letters to people who never existed, may I venture ashort one, to a person very real to me, though I have never seen him, andonly know him by his many kindnesses? Perhaps you will add another tothese by accepting the Dedication of a little work, of a sort experimental inEnglish, and in prose, though Horacein Latin and in versewas...　

The Golden Fleeceby Julian HawthorneA RomanceCHAPTER I.The professor crossed one long, lean leg over the other, and punched down the ashes in his pipe-bowl with the square tip of his middle finger. The thermometer on the shady veranda marked eighty-seven degrees of heat, and nature wooed the soul to languor and revery; but nothing could abate the energy of this bony sage."They talk about their Atlantises,their submerged continents!" he exclaimed, with a sniff through his wide, hairy nostrils. "Why, Trednoke, do you realize that we are living literally at the bottom of a Mesozoicat any rate, Cenozoicsea?"The gentleman thus indignantly addressed contemplated his questioner with the serenity　

The Crusade of the Excelsiorby Bret HarteCONTENTS.PART I.IN BONDS.CHAPTER I.A CRUSADER AND A SIGNCHAPTER II.ANOTHER PORTENTCHAPTER III."VIGILANCIA"CHAPTER IV.IN THE FOGCHAPTER V.TODOS SANTOSCHAPTER VI."HAIL AND FAREWELL"CHAPTER VII.THE GENTLE CASTAWAYSCHAPTER VIII.IN SANCTUARYCHAPTER IX.AN OPEN-AIR PRISONCHAPTER X.TODOS SANTOS SOLVES THE MYSTERYCHAPTER XI.THE CAPTAIN FOLLOWS HIS SHIPPART II.FREED.CHAPTER I....