Classics Books

PREFACE This little pamphlet has been produced at the request of the Toronto Curling Club. The original object in its publication was simply to furnish the Members with a copy of the Constitution of the Club, and of the laws which they observe in playing. The design is now extended, so as to embrace a general description of Curling, with a brief history of the Game; and by thus making it to be... more...

Tensor gazed helplessly at the fine mist sifting down from a hazy, violet sky. "I told you I was having these spells." "But Great Oxy," the administrator sputtered, "can't you control yourself?" "I can't help it, Ruut," Tensor replied. "I just feel sort of funny and—and—" Ruut's hyperimage was chewing on its illusory lip. "Well, you've... more...

WAITING   Serene, I fold my hands and wait,  Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;  I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate,  For lo! my own shall come to me.   I stay my haste, I make delays,  For what avails this eager pace?  I stand amid the eternal ways,  And what is mine shall know my face.   Asleep, awake, by night or day,  The friends I seek are seeking me;  No wind can... more...

I There are certain things that I feel, as I look through this bundle of manuscript, that I must say. The first is that of course no writer ever has fulfilled his intention and no writer ever will; secondly, that there was, when I began, another intention than that of dealing with my subject adequately, namely that of keeping myself outside the whole of it; I was to be, in the most abstract and... more...

TO THE AUTHORS OF THE MONTHLY AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. GENTLEMEN, The liberty which I take in addressing to you the trifling production of a few idle hours, will doubtless move your wonder, and probably your contempt. I will not, however, with the futility of apologies, intrude upon your time, but briefly acknowledge the motives of my temerity; lest, by a premature exercise of that patience which I hope... more...

CHORUS OF WITCHES:The stubble is yellow, the corn is green,Now to the Brocken the witches go;The mighty multitude here may be seenGathering, wizard and witch, below.Sir Urian is sitting aloft in the air; _150Hey over stock! and hey over stone!'Twixt witches and incubi, what shall be done?Tell it who dare! tell it who dare! NOTE: _150 Urian]Urean editions 1824, 1839. A VOICE:Upon a sow-swine, whose... more...

he dehydration of the planet had taken centuries in all. The Rell had still been a great race when the process started. Construction of the canals was a prodigious feat but not a truly remarkable one. But what use are even canals when there is nothing to fill them? What cosmic influences might have caused the disaster baffled even the group-mind of the Rell. Through the eons the atmosphere had drifted... more...

CHAPTER I Death leapt upon the Rev. Charles Cardinal, Rector of St. Dreots in South Glebeshire, at the moment that he bent down towards the second long drawer of his washhand-stand; he bent down to find a clean collar. It is in its way a symbol of his whole life, that death claimed him before he could find one. At one moment his mind was intent upon his collar; at the next he was stricken with a wild... more...

THE GREEK SLAVE AND THE LITTLE ROMAN BOY Ariston, the Greek slave, was busily painting. He stood in a little room with three smooth walls. The fourth side was open upon a court. A little fountain splashed there. Above stretched the brilliant sky of Italy. The August sun shone hotly down. It cut sharp shadows of the columns on the cement floor. This was the master's room. The artist was painting... more...

THE MAGIC WINGSONE morning as little Puss, Junior, on his Good Gray Horse rode through Mother Goose country he saw a spider sitting in her tiny lace house. She kept very still, for the early dewdrops still clung to the delicate web. And as the sun shone down they looked for all the world like diamonds on a piece of lace. So little Puss, Junior, stretched out his paw and, would you believe it, instead... more...