Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:26

Excerpt #1, from Vistas in Sicily, by Arthur Stanley Riggs

…in the extreme, and machinery is practically unknown, while in many of them fuel is so scarce and costly that the operators burn the raw sulphur itself in their calcaroni or smelters. Shortly before reaching Santa Catarina Xirbi, the junction town where the tracks join the Palermo line, we have our first glimpse of Mt. Ætna, its snowy cap hanging in the distance like a low white cloud. Small gorges and tunnels follow in rapid succession, and the train pants upward in tortuous curves through the barren valleys, until we look up at Castrogiovanni, the Enna of the ancients. It lies in an almost perfect horseshoe on a precipitous rock, and so surrounded by nearly perpendicular approaches, so walled in by Nature with beetling crags, that none of its innumerable ancient besiegers was ever able to storm it. Treachery–and once starvation–did for it what armed assault never could. Livy rightly called it “a city inexpugnable,” and it probably is so yet, for it has recently been strongly fortified after the most approved modern style. The ascent is by a road which–well, try it for yourself. But the town, once reached, pays for the climb in its magnificent views. It is the navel (umbilicus Siciliæ) of Sicily, and from the loftiest tower of the former citadel there sweeps away a mountain cyclorama such as not even Switzerland can excel–Ætna, peaks without number, range on range and tier on tier, melting into the haze…

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Excerpt #2, from Desert Dust, by Edwin L. Sabin

…know, at each terminus, booms as long as the freight and passengers pile up–and all of a sudden the go-ahead business and professional men pull stakes for the next terminus as soon as located. That has been the custom, all the way from North Platte to Benton." “Which accounts for your acquaintance along the line. The trainmen seem to know you.” “Trainmen and others; oh, yes. It is to be expected. I have no objections to that. I am quite able to take care of myself, sir.” We were interrupted. A near-drunken rowdy (upon whom I had kept an uneasy corner of an eye) had been careening over the platform, a whiskey bottle protruding from the hip pocket of his sagging jeans, a large revolver dangling at his thigh, his slouch hat cocked rakishly upon his tousled head. His language was extremely offensive–he had an ugly mood on, but nobody interfered. The crowd stood aside–the natives laughing, the tourists like myself viewing him askance, and several Indians watching only gravely. He sighted us, and staggered in. “Howdy?” he uttered, with an oath. “Shay–hello, stranger. Have a smile. Take two, one for lady. Hic!” And he thrust his bottle at me. My Lady drew back. I civilly declined the “smile.” “Thank you. I do not drink.”…

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Excerpt #3, from An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, by Adam Smith

…stationary, or declining condition.

Gold and silver, as they are naturally of the greatest value among the richest, so they are naturally of the least value among the poorest nations. Among savages, the poorest of all nations, they are scarce of any value.

In great towns, corn is always dearer than in remote parts of the country. This, however, is the effect, not of the real cheapness of silver, but of the real dearness of corn. It does not cost less labour to bring silver to the great town than to the remote parts of the country; but it costs a great deal more to bring corn.

In some very rich and commercial countries, such as Holland and the territory of Genoa, corn is dear for the same reason that it is dear in great towns. They do not produce enough to maintain their inhabitants. They are rich in the industry and skill of their artificers and manufacturers, in every sort of machinery which can facilitate and abridge labour; in shipping, and in all the other instruments and means of carriage and commerce: but they are poor in corn, which, as it must be brought to them from distant countries, must, by an addition to its price,…

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Excerpt #4, from Right Ho, Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse

…forget about a cousin nearly being chewed by monsters of the deep. The episode was still green in my memory. In a nutshell, what had occurred was this: You know how you aquaplane. A motor-boat nips on ahead, trailing a rope. You stand on a board, holding the rope, and the boat tows you along. And every now and then you lose your grip on the rope and plunge into the sea and have to swim to your board again. A silly process it has always seemed to me, though many find it diverting. Well, on the occasion referred to, Angela had just regained her board after taking a toss, when a great beastly shark came along and cannoned into it, flinging her into the salty once more. It took her quite a bit of time to get on again and make the motor-boat chap realize what was up and haul her to safety, and during that interval you can readily picture her embarrassment. According to Angela, the finny denizen kept snapping at her ankles virtually without cessation, so that by the time help arrived, she was feeling more like a salted almond at a public dinner than anything human. Very shaken the poor child had been, I recall, and had talked of nothing else for weeks. “I remember the whole incident vividly,” I said. "But how did that start…

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Excerpt #5, from A Parody Outline of History, by Donald Ogden Stewart

…large cities; a small town named Gopher Prairie. She made known her desire to the manager; she said goodby to a small group of friends who had gathered to see her off; she heard the sound of the eternal harp playing and hymn singing grow gradually fainter and fainter; she closed her eyes. When she opened them again she found herself on Main Street in Gopher Prairie. X From the “Heavenly Harp and Trumpet”: Mrs. Priscilla Kennicott, one of our most popular angels, left these parts last Tuesday for an extended visit to the Earth. Mrs. K. confided to Ye Editor that she would probably take up her residence in Gopher Prairie, Minn., under the name of Carol Kennicott. The “Harp and Trumpet” felicitates the citizens of Gopher Prairie on their acquisition of a charming and up-to-date young matron whose absence will be keenly regretted by her many friends in the heavenly younger married set. Good luck, Priscilla! XI Heaven. Five years later. The monthly meeting of the Celestial Browning Club….

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Excerpt #6, from The Iliad, by Homer

…Accords their vow, succeeds their enterprise. Now, like two lions panting for the prey, With dreadful thoughts they trace the dreary way, Through the black horrors of the ensanguined plain, Through dust, through blood, o’er arms, and hills of slain. Nor less bold Hector, and the sons of Troy, On high designs the wakeful hours employ; The assembled peers their lofty chief enclosed; Who thus the counsels of his breast proposed: “What glorious man, for high attempts prepared, Dares greatly venture for a rich reward? Of yonder fleet a bold discovery make, What watch they keep, and what resolves they take? If now subdued they meditate their flight, And, spent with toil, neglect the watch of night? His be the chariot that shall please him most, Of all the plunder of the vanquish’d host; His the fair steeds that all the rest excel, And his the glory to have served so well.” A youth there was among the tribes of Troy, Dolon his name, Eumedes’ only boy,…

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Excerpt #7, from Investigation of Communist Activities in Seattle, Wash., Area, Hearings, Part 1

…unemployment councils had offered the slogan that the solution must be in the form of unemployment insurance. Well, to the person who is hungry the hope of unemployment insurance, which required the adoption of legislation, which would take a longer period of time, wasn’t a very realistic thing. But the demand for immediate relief was a very realistic thing. And the people in Bellingham flocked to the banner of London, and London organized what was known as the people’s councils. He had as his able assistant a man by the name of George Bradley. George Bradley had had no connection with the Communist Party at that time or prior to that time. George Bradley at that time was an unemployed railroad worker. London, I believe, was an unemployed seaman at that time, who was actually living on a farm. Mr. TAVENNER. What was London’s real name? Mr. DENNETT. I do not know. I never have known. I think he took legal steps to have London established as his proper name. I think that is his legal name. Mr. TAVENNER. Do you know in what court and at what time he took that action? Mr. DENNETT. I have no knowledge of that. I say that I think that is true….

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Excerpt #8, from Dave Dashaway, Air Champion; Or, Wizard Work in the Clouds, by Roy Rockwood

…rarefied,” Dave explained to Hiram. “It may work in quite well when we get up above ten thousand feet.” “Oh, Dave, you can’t hope to do that!” exclaimed his young assistant. The manager and a helper visited the five machines while the rules of the contest were being read by his secretary. The barograph of each biplane was examined, sealed up and put in place. Three hours was the time limit allowed, the pilots to select their own course. There was some cloudiness, but no wind, and the five machines made a splendid initial rise. The Whirlwind was all for speed. Dave took it more slowly. Within fifteen minutes the five crafts were scattered to all points of the compass. They became mere specks as a lower strata of cloud haze obscured them. Then they vanished from view as a denser upper cumulus enveloped them. At eleven o’clock one of the contestants came back to the grounds because of a break in the control. A comrade competitor gave up the contest a quarter of an hour later. Number three reported itself out of the race at noon. “It’s the Ariel and the Whirlwind,” went the rounds of the stand. Everybody was wrought up to a great pitch of doubt and suspense. The clouds still obscured all sight of the clear sky. “There’s one of them!” burst out a voice and there was great excitement…

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Excerpt #9, from Phrases and Names, Their Origins and Meanings, by Trench H. Johnson

…blue hen, the expression Blue Hen’s Chickens was substituted for game-cocks.” =Blue Law State.= An old name for Connecticut, whose original settlers shared with the Puritans in the mother country a disgust of the licentiousness of the Court of the Restoration, and on this account were said to advocate “Blue” Laws. =Blue Noses.= A nickname bestowed upon the Nova Scotians, from the species of potato which they produce and claim to be the best in the world. =Blue Peter.= The flag hoisted at the mast head to give notice that a vessel is about to sail. Its name is a corruption of the French “Bleu Partir,” or blue departure signal. =Blue Pig.= An inn sign, corrupted from the “Blue Boar.” =Blue Stocking.= From the famous club of literary ladies formed by Mrs Montague in 1840, at which Benjamin Stillingfleet, who habitually wore blue stockings, was a regular visitor. Blue stockings, therefore, became the recognised badge of membership. There was, however, such a club of ladies and gentlemen at Venice as far back as 1400, called Della Calza, from the colour of stockings worn. =Blunderbuss.= A corruption of the Dutch donderbus, “thunder tube.” =Board of Green Cloth.= The steward of the Royal Household presides over…

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Excerpt #10, from Comic History of the United States, by Bill Nye

…given four years of unexampled prosperity. Yet this experience has not been regarded by the people as it should have been. Other kinds of men have repeatedly been elected to that office, only to bring sorrow, war, debt, and bank-failures upon us. Sometimes it would seem to the thinking mind that, as a people, we need a few car-loads of sense in each school-district, where it can be used at a moment’s notice. [Illustration: BALD-HEADED MEN NOT APPRECIATED.] Adams was not re-elected, on account of his tariff ideas, which were not popular at the South. He was called “The old man eloquent,” and it is said that during his more impassioned passages his head, which was round and extremely smooth, became flushed, so that, from resembling the cue-ball on the start, as he rose to more lofty heights his dome of thought looked more like the spot ball on a billiard-table. No one else in Congress at that time had succeeded in doing this. John Quincy Adams was succeeded in 1829 by Andrew Jackson, the hero of New Orleans. Jackson was the first to introduce what he called “rotation in office.” During the forty years previous there had been but seventy-four removals; Jackson made seven hundred. This custom has been pretty generally adopted since, giving immense satisfaction to those who thrive upon the excitement of offensive partisanship and their wives’ relations, while those who have legitimate employment and pay taxes…

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Excerpt #11, from The Pirates Own Book, by Charles Ellms

…Capt. Gilbert ascended the scaffold, he passed over to where the apparently lifeless Boyga was seated in the chair, and kissed him. Addressing his followers, he said, “Boys, we are going to die; but let us be firm, for we are innocent.” To Mr. Peyton, the interpreter, he said, “I die innocent, but I’ll die like a noble Spaniard. Good bye, brother.” The Marshal having read the warrant for their execution, and stated that de Soto was respited sixty and Ruiz thirty days, the ropes were adjusted round the necks of the prisoners, and a slight hectic flush spread over the countenance of each; but not an eye quailed, nor a limb trembled, not a muscle quivered. The fatal cord was now cut, and the platform fell, by which the prisoners were launched into eternity. After the execution was over, Ruiz, who was confined in his cell, attracted considerable attention, by his maniac shouts and singing. At one time holding up a piece of blanket, stained with Boyga’s blood, he gave utterance to his ravings in a sort of recitative, the burden of which was–“This is the red flag my companions died under!” After the expiration of Ruiz’ second respite, the Marshal got two surgeons of the United States Navy, who understood the Spanish language, to attend him in his cell; they, after a patient examination pronounced his madness a counterfeit, and his insanity a hoax. Accordingly, on the morning of Sept. 11th, the Marshal, in company with a Catholic priest…

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Excerpt #12, from The Mark of Zorro, by Johnston McCulley

…Sergeant Gonzales choked again, and reached gropingly for a wine mug. “You promised me,” Don Diego continued, “that you would tell me the whole thing, word by word. Did he not say as much, landlord? You declared that you would relate how you played with him; how you laughed at him while you fought; how you pressed him back after a time and then ran him through–” “By the saints!” Sergeant Gonzales roared, the words coming from between his lips like peals of thunder. “It is beyond the endurance of any man! You–Don Diego–my friend–” “Your modesty ill becomes you at such a time,” Don Diego said. “You promised the tale, and I would have it. What does this Señor Zorro look like? Have you peered at the dead face beneath the mask? It is, perhaps, some man that we all know? Cannot some one of you tell me the facts? You stand here like so many speechless images of men–” “Wine–or I choke!” Gonzales howled. “Don Diego, you are my good friend, and I will cross swords with any man who belittles you! But do not try me too far this night–” “I fail to understand,” Don Diego said. “I have but asked you to tell me the story of the fight–how you mocked him as you battled; how you pressed him back at will, and presently ended it by running him through–”…

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