CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?' So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and... more...

I "Dave Hanson! By the power of the true name be summoned cells and humors, ka and id, self and—" Dave Hanson! The name came swimming through utter blackness, sucking at him, pulling him together out of nothingness. Then, abruptly, he was aware of being alive, and surprised. He sucked in on the air around him, and the breath burned in his lungs. He was one of the dead—there should be no quickening of breath within him! He caught a... more...

Chapter One Ojo and Unc Nunkie "Where's the butter, Unc Nunkie?" asked Ojo. Unc looked out of the window and stroked his long beard. Then he turned to the Munchkin boy and shook his head. "Isn't," said he. "Isn't any butter? That's too bad, Unc. Where's the jam then?" inquired Ojo, standing on a stool so he could look through all the shelves of the cupboard. But Unc Nunkie shook his head again. "Gone," he said. "No jam, either? And no... more...

CHAPTER I: OF GOLDEN WALTER AND HIS FATHER Awhile ago there was a young man dwelling in a great and goodly city by the sea which had to name Langton on Holm.   He was but of five and twenty winters, a fair-faced man, yellow-haired, tall and strong; rather wiser than foolisher than young men are mostly wont; a valiant youth, and a kind; not of many words but courteous of speech; no roisterer, nought masterful, but peaceable and knowing... more...

Chapter 1.I.—Of the Genealogy and Antiquity of Gargantua. I must refer you to the great chronicle of Pantagruel for the knowledge of that genealogy and antiquity of race by which Gargantua is come unto us. In it you may understand more at large how the giants were born in this world, and how from them by a direct line issued Gargantua, the father of Pantagruel: and do not take it ill, if for this time I pass by it, although the subject be... more...

'Tis two score years since Carroll's art,With topsy-turvy magic,Sent Alice wondering through a partHalf-comic and half-tragic.Enchanting Alice! Black-and-whiteHas made your deeds perennial;And naught save "Chaos and old Night"Can part you now from Tenniel;But still you are a Type, and basedIn Truth, like Lear and Hamlet;And Types may be re-draped to tasteIn cloth-of-gold or camlet.Here comes afresh Costumier, then;That Taste may gain a... more...

THE FISHERMAN AND THE DRAUG On Kvalholm, down in Helgeland,1 dwelt a poor fisherman, Elias by name, with his wife Karen, who had been in service at the parson's over at Alstad. They had built them a hut here, and he used to go out fishing by the day about the Lofotens. There could be very little doubt that the lonely Kvalholm was haunted. Whenever her husband was away, Karen heard all manner of uncanny shrieks and noises, which could mean no... more...

CHAPTER 1 On a beautiful evening, many hundred years ago, a worthy old fisherman sat mending his nets. The spot where he dwelt was exceedingly picturesque. The green turf on which he had built his cottage ran far out into a great lake; and this slip of verdure appeared to stretch into it as much through love of its clear waters as the lake, moved by a like impulse, strove to fold the meadow, with its waving grass and flowers, and the cooling... more...

CHAPTER I. HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN. There was once, it may be now many hundred years ago, a good old fisherman, who was sitting one fine evening before his door, mending his nets. The part of the country in which he lived was extremely pretty. The greensward, on which his cottage stood, ran far into the lake, and it seemed as if it was from love for the blue clear waters that the tongue of land had stretched itself out into them,... more...

The Trap "THERE'S a woodchuck over on the side hill that is eating my clover," said Twinkle's father, who was a farmer. "Why don't you set a trap for it?" asked Twinkle's mother. "I believe I will," answered the man. So, when the midday dinner was over, the farmer went to the barn and got a steel trap, and carried it over to the clover-field on the hillside. Twinkle wanted very much to go with him, but she had to help mamma wash the dishes... more...