Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:27

Excerpt #1, from Hard Times, by Charles Dickens

…enthusiasm: ‘and I want to see his wife. I have never seen her yet. Now, if you’ll believe me, she hasn’t come out of that house since noon to-day. So not to give her up too easily, I was waiting about, a little last bit more, when I passed close to this good lass two or three times; and her face being so friendly I spoke to her, and she spoke to me. There!’ said the old woman to Stephen, ‘you can make all the rest out for yourself now, a deal shorter than I can, I dare say!’ Once again, Stephen had to conquer an instinctive propensity to dislike this old woman, though her manner was as honest and simple as a manner possibly could be. With a gentleness that was as natural to him as he knew it to be to Rachael, he pursued the subject that interested her in her old age. ‘Well, missus,’ said he, ‘I ha seen the lady, and she were young and hansom. Wi’ fine dark thinkin eyes, and a still way, Rachael, as I ha never seen the like on.’ ‘Young and handsome. Yes!’ cried the old woman, quite delighted. ‘As bonny as a rose! And what a happy wife!’ ‘Aye, missus, I suppose she be,’ said Stephen. But with a doubtful glance at Rachael. ‘Suppose she be? She must be. She’s your master’s wife,’ returned the old woman….

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Excerpt #2, from The Black Arrow: A Tale of the Two Roses, by Robert Louis Stevenson

…gorse, and crowned with a black tuft of firs. “I shall see from there,” he thought, and struck for it across a heathy clearing. He had gone but a few yards, when Matcham touched him on the arm, and pointed. To the eastward of the summit there was a dip, and, as it were, a valley passing to the other side; the heath was not yet out; all the ground was rusty, like an unscoured buckler, and dotted sparingly with yews; and there, one following another, Dick saw half a score green jerkins mounting the ascent, and marching at their head, conspicuous by his boar-spear, Ellis Duckworth in person. One after another gained the top, showed for a moment against the sky, and then dipped upon the further side, until the last was gone. Dick looked at Matcham with a kindlier eye. “So y’ are to be true to me, Jack?” he asked. “I thought ye were of the other party.” Matcham began to sob. “What cheer!” cried Dick. “Now the saints behold us! would ye snivel for a word?” “Ye hurt me,” sobbed Matcham. “Ye hurt me when ye threw me down. Y’ are a coward to abuse your strength.” “Nay, that is fool’s talk,” said Dick, roughly. "Y’ had no title to my…

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Excerpt #3, from Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

…said to him, “You are a dead man, knight, unless you confess that the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso excels your Casildea de Vandalia in beauty; and in addition to this you must promise, if you should survive this encounter and fall, to go to the city of El Toboso and present yourself before her on my behalf, that she deal with you according to her good pleasure; and if she leaves you free to do yours, you are in like manner to return and seek me out (for the trail of my mighty deeds will serve you as a guide to lead you to where I may be), and tell me what may have passed between you and her—conditions which, in accordance with what we stipulated before our combat, do not transgress the just limits of knight-errantry.” “I confess,” said the fallen knight, “that the dirty tattered shoe of the lady Dulcinea del Toboso is better than the ill-combed though clean beard of Casildea; and I promise to go and to return from her presence to yours, and to give you a full and particular account of all you demand of me.” “You must also confess and believe,” added Don Quixote, “that the knight you vanquished was not and could not be Don Quixote of La Mancha, but someone else in his likeness, just as I confess and believe that you, though you seem to be the bachelor Samson Carrasco, are not so, but some other resembling him, whom my enemies have here put before…

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Excerpt #4, from History of the World War: An Authentic Narrative of the World’s Greatest War

…Fifth Cavalry Brigade, but I directed General Allenby to send forward a few squadrons to assist in this work. “During the 22d and 23d these advanced squadrons did some excellent work, some of them penetrating as far as Soignies, and several encounters took place in which our troops showed to great advantage.”2. At 6 A. M., on August 23d, I assembled the commanders of the First and Second Corps and cavalry division at a point close to the position and explained the general situation of the Allies, and what I understood to be General Joffre’s plan. I discussed with them at some length the immediate situation in front of us. “From information I received from French headquarters I understood that little more than one, or at most two, of the enemy’s army corps, with perhaps one cavalry division, were in front of my position; and I was aware of no attempted outflanking movement by the enemy. I was confirmed in this opinion by the fact that my patrols encountered no undue opposition in their reconnoitering operations. The observations of my airplanes seemed to bear out this estimate.”About 3 P. M. on Sunday, the 23d, reports began coming in to the effect that the enemy was commencing an attack on the Mons line, apparently in some strength, but that the right of the position from Mons and Bray was being particularly threatened….

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Excerpt #5, from Our Pirate Hoard, by Thomas A. Janvier

…the churn-wash-boiler, we had a wagon-load. Susan was horrified at the thought of his giving the churn-wash-boiler to the asylum. “Even if they only are allowed to use it as a wash-boiler,” she argued, earnestly, “think what dreadful ideas of untidiness it will put into those destitute red Indian children’s heads!–ideas,” she went on, “which will only tend to make them disgrace instead of doing credit to the position of easy affluence to which your legacy will lift them when they return to their barbaric wilds. If you must give it to them, at least conceal from them–I beg of you, conceal from them–the fatal fact that it ever was meant to be a churn too.” Gregory Wilkinson promised Susan that he would conceal this fact from the destitute red Indian children; and then the train started, and he and the churn-wash-boiler were whisked away. We really were very sorry to part with him. V. Two or three days later I happened to meet Old Jacob as I was coming away from the post-office in Lewes, and I was both pained and surprised to perceive that the old man was partially intoxicated. When he caught sight of me he came at me with such a lurch that had I not caught him by the arm he certainly would have fallen to the ground. At first he…

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Excerpt #6, from Letters of a Radio

…which the two coils offer is either larger than the sum of what they can offer separately or less, depending upon whether the windings are in the same direction or opposite. As we pull the coil out the mutual effect becomes less and finally when it is well outside the mutual inductance is very small. Now we have several methods of varying capacity and inductance and therefore we are ready to vary the frequency of our audion oscillator; that is, “tune” it, as we say. In my next letter I shall show you why we tune. Now for the rule which I promised. The frequency to which a circuit is tuned depends upon the product of the number of mil-henries in the coil and the number of microfarads in the condenser. Change the coil and the condenser as much as you want but keep this product the same and the frequency will be the same. [Footnote 5: More accurately the number is 6,286,000,000,000.] LETTER 13 TUNING DEAR RADIO ENTHUSIAST: I want to tell you about receiving sets and their tuning. In the last letter I told you what determines the frequency of oscillation of an audion oscillator. It was the condenser and inductance which you studied…

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Excerpt #7, from Boswell’s Life of Johnson, by James Boswell

…wisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a periodical paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, employed with great success. The Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, were the last of the kind published in England, which had stood the test of a long trial; and such an interval had now elapsed since their publication, as made him justly think that, to many of his readers, this form of instruction would, in some degree, have the advantage of novelty. A few days before the first of his Essays came out, there started another competitor for fame in the same form, under the title of The Tatler Revived, which I believe was ‘born but to die.’ Johnson was, I think, not very happy in the choice of his title, The Rambler, which certainly is not suited to a series of grave and moral discourses; which the Italians have literally, but ludicrously translated by Il Vagabondo; and which has been lately assumed as the denomination of a vehicle of licentious tales, The Rambler’s Magazine. He gave Sir Joshua Reynolds the following account of its getting this name: ‘What MUST be done, Sir, WILL be done. When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. The Rambler seemed the best that occurred, and I took it.’ With what devout and conscientious sentiments this paper was undertaken,…

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Excerpt #8, from Desert Dust, by Edwin L. Sabin

…scalding dust. It was a mixed train, of Gentile mules and the more numerous Mormon oxen; therefore not strictly a “bull” train, but by pace designated as such. And in the vernacular I was a “mule-whacker” or even “mule-skinner” rather than a “bull-whacker,” if there is any appreciable difference in rôle. There is none, I think, to the animals. Trudging manfully at the left fore wheel behind Mr. Jenks’ four span of mules, trailing my eighteen-foot tapering lash and occasionally well-nigh cutting off my own ear when I tried to throw it, I played the teamster–although sooth to say there was little of play in the job, on that road, at that time of the day. The sun was more vexatious, being an hour lower, when we bravely entered Benton’s boiling main street. We made brief halt for the finishing up of business; and cleaving a lane through the pedestrians and vehicles and animals there congregated, the challenges of the street gamblers having assailed us in vain, we proceeded–our Mormons gazing straight ahead, scornful of the devil’s enticements, our few Gentiles responding in kind to the quips and waves and salutations. Thus we eventually left Benton; in about an hour’s march or some three miles out we formed corral for camp on the farther side of the road from the railroad tracks which we had been skirting….

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Excerpt #9, from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, by Edwin Abbott Abbott

…save in his Straight Line, he had no conception of anything out of it. Though he had heard my voice when I first addressed him, the sounds had come to him in a manner so contrary to his experience that he had made no answer, “seeing no man”, as he expressed it, “and hearing a voice as it were from my own intestines.” Until the moment when I placed my mouth in his World, he had neither seen me, nor heard anything except confused sounds beating against–what I called his side, but what he called his INSIDE or STOMACH; nor had he even now the least conception of the region from which I had come. Outside his World, or Line, all was a blank to him; nay, not even a blank, for a blank implies Space; say, rather, all was non-existent. His subjects–of whom the small Lines were men and the Points Women–were all alike confined in motion and eye-sight to that single Straight Line, which was their World. It need scarcely be added that the whole of their horizon was limited to a Point; nor could any one ever see anything but a Point. Man, woman, child, thing–each was a Point to the eye of a Linelander. Only by the sound of the voice could sex or age be distinguished. Moreover, as each individual occupied the whole of the narrow path, so to speak, which constituted his Universe, and no one could move to the right or left to make way for passers by, it followed that no Linelander could ever pass another. Once…

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Excerpt #10, from Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases, by Grenville Kleiser

…verbose manner verdant hope verifiable facts veritable triumph vernacular expression vernal charm [vernal = resembling spring; fresh; youthful] versatile grace vexatious circumstances vicarious virtue vigilant sensibility vigorous invective [invective = abusive language] vile desecrater villainous inconsistency vindictive sentiment violent agitation virgin grace virile leadership virtual surrender virtuous disdain virulent prejudice visible embarrassment…

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Excerpt #11, from A Princess of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs

…whenever you have been off duty one of the older women of Tars Tarkas’ retinue has always arranged to trump up some excuse to get Sola and me out of sight. They have had me down in the pits below the buildings helping them mix their awful radium powder, and make their terrible projectiles. You know that these have to be manufactured by artificial light, as exposure to sunlight always results in an explosion. You have noticed that their bullets explode when they strike an object? Well, the opaque, outer coating is broken by the impact, exposing a glass cylinder, almost solid, in the forward end of which is a minute particle of radium powder. The moment the sunlight, even though diffused, strikes this powder it explodes with a violence which nothing can withstand. If you ever witness a night battle you will note the absence of these explosions, while the morning following the battle will be filled at sunrise with the sharp detonations of exploding missiles fired the preceding night. As a rule, however, non-exploding projectiles are used at night.”[1] [1] I have used the word radium in describing this powder because in the light of recent discoveries on Earth I believe it to be a mixture of which radium is the base. In Captain Carter’s manuscript it is mentioned always by the name used in the written language of Helium and is spelled in hieroglyphics which it would be difficult and…

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Excerpt #12, from The Boy Inventors’ Radio Telephone, by Richard Bonner

…a yellow beard, from exposure to sun and wind. As Jack had said, he did not look like a tramp. Suddenly the boy noticed lying near him an object which had evidently fallen from the man’s pocket when he was struck and flung through the air by the auto. It was a small cylinder, apparently made of lead, and about three inches long. Jack picked it up, and for the time being did not attempt to examine it but thrust it into his pocket for safe keeping. Little did either of the boys think how much that little cylinder was to mean to them, and how it was to influence some of the most important adventures of their lives. Making the man as comfortable as they could, by rolling up their coats and placing them under his head, the boys hurried back to the Wondership. When they arrived there they saw that a feature of the radio ’phone, which has not yet been mentioned, was working in urgent appeal. This was a tiny red electric light attached to the top of the case containing the sensitive parts of the apparatus. By an ingenious device, worked as a call signal from the transmitting station, the electric waves converted a lighting circuit for this purpose. It was winking and twinkling, and Jack knew that his father was trying to call them….

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