Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:09

Excerpt #1, from History of biology, by L. C. Miall

…Some naturalists had conjectured that the living animals of the cochlites still exist at great depths in the sea, but Lister evidently thought otherwise. In the eighteenth century the belief that fossils are the remains of actual animals and plants more and more prevailed, the death and sealing up of the organisms being generally attributed to Noah’s flood. The occurrence of fossils on high mountains seemed so strong a confirmation of the Biblical narrative that Voltaire was driven to invent puerile explanations in order to dispel an inference so unwelcome to him. By the end of the century most naturalists accepted the doctrine that the great majority of fossils are the remains of organisms now extinct—a doctrine which was enforced by the remarkable discoveries of Cuvier (see p. 93). Nearly at the same time William Smith established the important truth that almost every fossil marks with considerable precision a particular stage in the earth’s history. Comparative Anatomy: the Study of Biological Types. Between 1660 and 1740 the scope of natural history became sensibly enlarged. System had been hitherto predominant, but the systems had been partial, treating the vertebrate animals and the flowering plants with as much detail as the state of knowledge allowed, but almost ignoring the invertebrates and the cryptogams. System was now studied…

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Excerpt #2, from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum

…house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry anyone, for she was so lazy she wished the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to the wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping away at my best one day, for I was anxious to get the new house and my wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped all at once and cut off my left leg. "This at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man could not do very well as a wood-chopper. So I went to a tin-smith and had him make me a new leg out of tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it; but my action angered the wicked Witch of the East, for she had promised the old woman I should not marry the pretty Munchkin girl. When I began chopping again my axe slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I went to the tinner, and again he made me a leg out of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but, nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones. The wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the end of me. But the tinner happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of tin….

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Excerpt #3, from Vision and Design, by Roger Fry

…results that would follow. One scarcely knows whether they would be worse if Bumble or the Academy were judge. We only know that under any such conditions none of the artists whose work has ultimately counted in the spiritual development of the race would have been allowed to practise the coveted profession. There is in truth, as Ruskin pointed out in his “Political Economy of Art,” a gross and wanton waste under the present system. We have thousands of artists who are only so by accident and by name, on the one hand, and certainly many–one cannot tell how many–who have the special gift but have never had the peculiar opportunities which are to-day necessary to allow it to expand and function. But there is, what in an odd way consoles us, a blind chance that the gift and the opportunity may coincide; that Shelley and Browning may have a competence, and Cézanne a farm-house he could retire to. Bureaucratic Socialism would, it seems, take away even this blind chance that mankind may benefit by its least appreciable, most elusive treasures, and would carefully organise the complete suppression of original creative power; would organise into a universal and all-embracing tyranny the already overweening and disastrous power of endowed official art. For we must face the fact that the average man has two qualities which would make the proper selection of the artist almost impossible. He has, first of…

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Excerpt #4, from The Scarlet Pimpernel, by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

…into the box, and the next moment was standing behind Marguerite’s chair. “A word with you, citoyenne,” he said quietly. Marguerite turned quickly, in alarm, which was not altogether feigned. “Lud, man! you frightened me,” she said with a forced little laugh, “your presence is entirely inopportune. I want to listen to Glück, and have no mind for talking.” “But this is my only opportunity,” he said, as quietly, and without waiting for permission, he drew a chair close behind her—so close that he could whisper in her ear, without disturbing the audience, and without being seen, in the dark background of the box. “This is my only opportunity,” he repeated, as she vouchsafed him no reply, “Lady Blakeney is always so surrounded, so fêted by her court, that a mere old friend has but very little chance.” “Faith, man!” she said impatiently, “you must seek for another opportunity then. I am going to Lord Grenville’s ball to-night after the opera. So are you, probably. I’ll give you five minutes then. . . .” “Three minutes in the privacy of this box are quite sufficient for me,” he rejoined placidly, “and I think that you would be wise to listen to me, Citoyenne St. Just.”…

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Excerpt #5, from Mr. Dooley in Peace and in War, by Finley Peter Dunne

…iv no wrong I’ve done. If me mim’ry is at fault, please note. Me car-eer is an open book. I’ve held nawthin’ back fr’m th’ public, not even whin ‘twas mar-rked private. I can say with th’ pote that I done me jooty. But, oh, Chanse! don’t iver aspire to my job. Be sicrety of war, if ye will; but niver be sicrety iv A war. Do not offer this letter to th’ newspapers. Make thim take it. How’s things goin’ with ye, ol’ pal? I hope to see ye at th’ seaside. Till thin, I’m yours, sick at heart, but atin’ reg’lar. RUSS.’" “Well,” said Mr. Hennessy, “th’ poor man must’ve had a har-rd time iv it.” “He did,” said Mr. Dooley. “Niver laid his head to a pillow before eight, up with th’ moon: he’s suffered as no man can tell. But he’ll be all r-right whin his mind’s at r-rest.” ON THE PRESIDENT’S CAT. "‘Twas this way about Dr. Huckenlooper. Mack has a cat that was give him f’r a Chris’mas prisint be me frind Pierpont Morgan, an’ th’ cat was a gr-reat favor-ite in th’ White House. ‘Twas as quite as th’ Sicrety iv Agriculture an’ as affectionate as th’ Sicrety iv th’ Three-asury. Th’ cat was called Goold Bonds, because iv th’ inthrest he dhrew. He very often played with th’ Sicrety iv th’ Navy, an’ ivry wan that come to th’ White House f’r a job loved him….

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Excerpt #6, from My Adventures During the Late War, by Donat Henchy O’Brien

…questions of the same tendency. Exhausted as I was, I saw that boldness in this case was my only buckler; so turning fiercely upon him, I replied that he must be a very impudent fellow to take the liberty of asking such questions,–that I should not condescend to answer an inquisitive gossiping rascal of his description; and I wished to know by what authority he could presume to interrogate me in so unhandsome a manner. The fellow pretended to smile; but he had not expected a retort so vigorous, as I saw evidently that he was disconcerted, if not frightened. I next observed to the landlord that the extreme inclemency of the weather alone had occasioned my stopping at his house, particularly as I had seen neither town, village, nor public-house contiguous to it. I added that as there were no hopes of the weather clearing up, I should continue my road to Strasbourg, which the fellow assured me was twelve leagues off, whilst Bitche was only three. At this information I was distressed and mortified to find what little progress I had made in so many days, or rather nights. The whole party sat down to breakfast without asking the weather-beaten, way-bewildered stranger to partake of their meal; so he, of course, took his leave of these selfish and unfeeling specimens of human nature; and exchanging the blazing fire for the unpitying elements, he pursued his solitary journey, disgusted that aught so base as what he had witnessed…

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Excerpt #7, from The Diary of a Nobody, by George Grossmith and Weedon Grossmith

…struck a match, and lighted the gas. They were all talking and laughing, so I kept my own counsel; but, after they had gone, I said to Carrie; “The person who sent me that insulting post-card at Christmas was here to-night.” DECEMBER 29.—I had a most vivid dream last night. I woke up, and on falling asleep, dreamed the same dream over again precisely. I dreamt I heard Frank Mutlar telling his sister that he had not only sent me the insulting Christmas card, but admitted that he was the one who punched my head last night in the dark. As fate would have it, Lupin, at breakfast, was reading extracts from a letter he had just received from Frank. I asked him to pass the envelope, that I might compare the writing. He did so, and I examined it by the side of the envelope containing the Christmas card. I detected a similarity in the writing, in spite of the attempted disguise. I passed them on to Carrie, who began to laugh. I asked her what she was laughing at, and she said the card was never directed to me at all. It was “L. Pooter,” not “C. Pooter.” Lupin asked to look at the direction and the card, and exclaimed, with a laugh: “Oh yes, Guv., it’s meant for me.” I said: “Are you in the habit of receiving insulting Christmas cards?” He replied: “Oh yes, and of sending them, too.” In the evening Gowing called, and said he enjoyed himself very much last…

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Excerpt #8, from The Blue Castle: a novel, by L. M. Montgomery

…hand to her head. “Don’t cry, Amelia,” said Herbert kindly, pulling nervously at his spiky grey hair. He hated “family ructions.” Very inconsiderate of Doss to start one at his silver wedding. Who could have supposed she had it in her? “You’ll have to take her to a doctor. This may be only a–er–a brainstorm. There are such things as brainstorms nowadays, aren’t there?” “I–I suggested consulting a doctor to her yesterday,” moaned Mrs. Frederick. “And she said she wouldn’t go to a doctor–wouldn’t. Oh, surely I have had trouble enough!” “And she won’t take Redfern’s Bitters,” said Cousin Stickles. “Or anything,” said Mrs. Frederick. “And she’s determined to go to the Presbyterian church,” said Cousin Stickles–repressing, however, to her credit be it said, the story of the bannister. “That proves she’s dippy,” growled Uncle Benjamin. “I noticed something strange about her the minute she came in today. I noticed it before today.” (Uncle Benjamin was thinking of “m-i-r-a-z-h.”) "Everything she said today showed an unbalanced mind. That question–‘Was it a vital part?’ Was there any sense at all in that remark? None whatever! There never was anything like that in the Stirlings. It must be from the…

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Excerpt #9, from The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe

…to sea as much as I could, resolving to speak with them if possible. With all the sail I could make, I found I should not be able to come in their way, but that they would be gone by before I could make any signal to them: but after I had crowded to the utmost, and began to despair, they, it seems, saw by the help of their glasses that it was some European boat, which they supposed must belong to some ship that was lost; so they shortened sail to let me come up. I was encouraged with this, and as I had my patron’s ancient on board, I made a waft of it to them, for a signal of distress, and fired a gun, both which they saw; for they told me they saw the smoke, though they did not hear the gun. Upon these signals they very kindly brought to, and lay by for me; and in about three hours; time I came up with them. They asked me what I was, in Portuguese, and in Spanish, and in French, but I understood none of them; but at last a Scotch sailor, who was on board, called to me: and I answered him, and told him I was an Englishman, that I had made my escape out of slavery from the Moors, at Sallee; they then bade me come on board, and very kindly took me in, and all my goods. It was an inexpressible joy to me, which any one will believe, that I was thus delivered, as I esteemed it, from such a miserable and almost hopeless condition as I was in; and I immediately offered all I had to…

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Excerpt #10, from The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells

…destroyed in the end. Every now and then people would glance nervously across the Wey, at the meadows towards Chertsey, but everything over there was still. Across the Thames, except just where the boats landed, everything was quiet, in vivid contrast with the Surrey side. The people who landed there from the boats went tramping off down the lane. The big ferryboat had just made a journey. Three or four soldiers stood on the lawn of the inn, staring and jesting at the fugitives, without offering to help. The inn was closed, as it was now within prohibited hours. “What’s that?” cried a boatman, and “Shut up, you fool!” said a man near me to a yelping dog. Then the sound came again, this time from the direction of Chertsey, a muffled thud—the sound of a gun. The fighting was beginning. Almost immediately unseen batteries across the river to our right, unseen because of the trees, took up the chorus, firing heavily one after the other. A woman screamed. Everyone stood arrested by the sudden stir of battle, near us and yet invisible to us. Nothing was to be seen save flat meadows, cows feeding unconcernedly for the most part, and silvery pollard willows motionless in the warm sunlight. “The sojers’ll stop ’em,” said a woman beside me, doubtfully. A haziness rose over the treetops….

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Excerpt #11, from The Subterranean World, by G. Hartwig

…reason why the Irish coal-mines have, as yet, been so little worked. When we consider the vast importance of coal, we cannot wonder at the paramount influence which it has exercised over the distribution of our population in modern times. While Salisbury, Winchester, and Canterbury— important towns of mediæval England—are reduced to atrophy from the distance and absence of coal-fields, Newcastle, Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Glasgow, and a host of other flourishing towns may truly be said to be built on coal. Where there are large coal-fields there is life and a prospect of almost unlimited prosperity, for they are sure to attract machinery and man. Take a geological map of a new and thinly-populated country; and if it be marked with coal-fields the spots where large cities will exist hereafter may be safely determined. A more detailed examination of the chief coal-fields of England shows us the immensity of the mineral riches which are here still hoarded up for the benefit of future generations. The superficial extent of the South Welsh coal-fields is about a thousand square miles. On its northern wing we find on an average twenty-one coal bands, forming an aggregate thickness of eighty and a half feet. In some parts of the south wing there are even as many as thirty-three bands of an aggregate thickness of one hundred and four…

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Excerpt #12, from Discoveries Among the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, by Austen Henry Layard

…cavalry, sent out by the Pasha to escort me into the city. Nor did the governor’s kindness end with this display of welcome. After winding for nearly an hour through orchards and gardens, whose trees were bending under the weight of fruit, and then through the narrow and crowded streets, we were led to his serai or palace, which, such as it was, had been made ready for our use, and where his treasurer was waiting to receive us. Notwithstanding the fast, an abundant breakfast of various meats and sweet messes, cooked after the Turkish fashion, had been prepared for us, and we soon found repose upon a spacious divan, surrounded by all the luxuries of Eastern life. [Illustration: Kurds of Wan.] CHAPTER XVIII. MEHEMET PASHA.–DESCRIPTION OF WAN.–ITS HISTORY.–IMPROVEMENT IN ITS CONDITION.–THE ARMENIAN BISHOP.–THE CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS.–THE CAVES OF KHORKHOR.–THE MEHER KAPOUSI.–A TRADITION.–OBSERVATIONS ON THE INSCRIPTIONS.–THE BAIRAM.–AN ARMENIAN SCHOOL.–THE AMERICAN MISSIONS.–PROTESTANT MOVEMENT IN TURKEY.–AMIKH.–THE CONVENT OF YEDI KLISSIA. Mehemet Pasha was living during the fast of Ramazan in a kiosk in one of the gardens outside the city walls. We had scarcely eaten, before he came himself to welcome us to Wan. He was the son of the last Bostandji-Bashi…

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