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CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION--THE MEANING OF LITERATURE Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede.            Chaucer's Truth    On, on, you noblest English, ...    Follow your spirit.                Shakespeare's Henry V The Shell and the Book. A child and a man were... more...

Colour In the Willows Darling … the colour has come back, in the willows.Remember how it was, last year? Incredibly orange …Little orange willow switchesHardly bending;Remember the white shore roadAnd the blue water in the BayStill fretted with clotted snowAt the sand edge?The sky was a light, high blueAnd all the clouds were little, and frisky.And we kept making wagers about the willowsAt every curve in the road.Darling …... more...

I There was no Burlingame in the Sixties, the Western Addition was a desert of sand dunes and the goats gambolled through the rocky gulches of Nob Hill. But San Francisco had its Rincon Hill and South Park, Howard and Fulsom and Harrison Streets, coldly aloof from the tumultuous hot heart of the City north of Market Street. In this residence section the sidewalks were also wooden and uneven and the streets muddy in winter and dusty in summer,... more...

THE LIBERTY OF FRANZAND THEREBELLION OF FUZZY WUZZY Madame Morelli, the pretty little Frenchwoman who makes a half-score of leopards, panthers and jaguars do things which nature never intended them to do, had finished her act and driven the snarling performers through the narrow runway to their separate cages, fastening each one, as she thought, securely. Two French clowns were filling in the time and making the audience of Coney Island pleasure... more...

"If you will allow me, I shall have the pleasure of reading aloud to you some passages from 'Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings,' by Charles Dickens. I do not know much about the book myself, as I have never read it. I dare say that you know more about it than I do; but I am given to understand" (with a glance at the page before him) "that Mrs. Lirriper was a lodging-house-keeper, that she kept lodgings in London. She was a very good sort of woman, I... more...


I sit down to perform my promise of giving you an account of a visit made many years since to Abbotsford. I hope, however, that you do not expect much from me, for the travelling notes taken at the time are so scanty and vague, and my memory so extremely fallacious, that I fear I shall disappoint you with the meagreness and crudeness of my details. Late in the evening of August 29, 1817, I arrived at the ancient little border town of Selkirk,... more...

Preface The author has had in mind a two-fold purpose in the preparation of this book. First, it is hoped that it may serve as a text or reference book for collegiate students of plant science who are seeking a proper foundation upon which to build a scientific knowledge of how plants grow. The late Dr. Charles E. Bessey, to whom I owe the beginning of my interest in plant life, once said to me: "The trouble with our present knowledge of plant... more...

CHAPTER I ANTHONY PATCH In 1913, when Anthony Patch was twenty-five, two years were already gone since irony, the Holy Ghost of this later day, had, theoretically at least, descended upon him. Irony was the final polish of the shoe, the ultimate dab of the clothes-brush, a sort of intellectual "There!"—yet at the brink of this story he has as yet gone no further than the conscious stage. As you first see him he wonders frequently whether... more...

CHAPTER I I Price Ruyler knew that many secrets had been inhumed by the earthquake and fire of San Francisco and wondered if his wife's had been one of them. After all, she had been born in this city of odd and whispered pasts, and there were moments when his silent mother-in-law suggested a past of her own. That there was a secret of some sort he had been progressively convinced for quite six months. Moreover, he felt equally sure that this... more...

CHAPTER I. AN OLD FRIEND Now I, Allan Quatermain, come to the weirdest (with one or two exceptions perhaps) of all the experiences which it has amused me to employ my idle hours in recording here in a strange land, for after all England is strange to me. I grow elderly. I have, as I suppose, passed the period of enterprise and adventure and I should be well satisfied with the lot that Fate has given to my unworthy self. To begin with, I am... more...