Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:39

Excerpt #1, from Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka

…and it was only now out of politeness that they allowed their peace to be disturbed. It was especially unnerving, the way they all blew the smoke from their cigarettes upwards from their mouth and noses. Yet Gregor’s sister was playing so beautifully. Her face was leant to one side, following the lines of music with a careful and melancholy expression. Gregor crawled a little further forward, keeping his head close to the ground so that he could meet her eyes if the chance came. Was he an animal if music could captivate him so? It seemed to him that he was being shown the way to the unknown nourishment he had been yearning for. He was determined to make his way forward to his sister and tug at her skirt to show her she might come into his room with her violin, as no-one appreciated her playing here as much as he would. He never wanted to let her out of his room, not while he lived, anyway; his shocking appearance should, for once, be of some use to him; he wanted to be at every door of his room at once to hiss and spit at the attackers; his sister should not be forced to stay with him, though, but stay of her own free will; she would sit beside him on the couch with her ear bent down to him while he told her how he had always intended to send her to the conservatory, how he would have told everyone about it last Christmas—had Christmas really come and gone already?—if this misfortune hadn’t got in the way, and refuse to let…

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Excerpt #2, from The Sign of the Four, by Arthur Conan Doyle

…away together.” That was enough to decide me. If my own servant could not believe my innocence, how could I hope to make it good before twelve foolish tradesmen in a jury-box? Lal Chowdar and I disposed of the body that night, and within a few days the London papers were full of the mysterious disappearance of Captain Morstan. You will see from what I say that I can hardly be blamed in the matter. My fault lies in the fact that we concealed not only the body, but also the treasure, and that I have clung to Morstan’s share as well as to my own. I wish you, therefore, to make restitution. Put your ears down to my mouth. The treasure is hidden in—’ “At this instant a horrible change came over his expression; his eyes stared wildly, his jaw dropped, and he yelled, in a voice which I can never forget, ‘Keep him out! For Christ’s sake keep him out!’ We both stared round at the window behind us upon which his gaze was fixed. A face was looking in at us out of the darkness. We could see the whitening of the nose where it was pressed against the glass. It was a bearded, hairy face, with wild cruel eyes and an expression of concentrated malevolence. My brother and I rushed towards the window, but the man was gone. When we returned to my father his head had dropped and his pulse had ceased to beat. “We searched the garden that night, but found no sign of the intruder,…

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Excerpt #3, from The Wave: An Egyptian Aftermath, by Algernon Blackwood

…with its graceful colonnades, and the Chapel, flanked by cool, dark chambers, where the Sacred Boat floated on its tideless sea beyond the world, he moved on across the sandy waste of broken stone again, and reached in a few minutes the towering grey and reddish sandstone that was Amon’s Temple. This was the goal of his little pilgrimage. Sublimity closed round him. The gigantic pylon, its shoulders breaking the sky four-square far overhead, seemed the prodigious portal of another world. Slowly he passed within, crossed the Great Court where the figures of ancient Theban deities peered at him between the forest of broken monoliths and lovely Osiris pillars, then, moving softly beneath the second enormous pylon, found himself on the threshold of the Great Hypostyle Hall itself. He caught his breath, he paused, then stepped within on tiptoe, and the hush of four thousand years closed after him. Awe stole upon him; he felt himself included in the great ideal of this older day. The stupendous aisles lent him their vast shelter; the fierce sunlight could not burn his flesh; the air was cool and sweet in these dim recesses of unremembered time. He passed his hand with reverence over the drum-shaped blocks that built up the majestic columns, as they reared towards the massive, threatening roof. The countless inscriptions and reliefs showered upon his sight bewilderingly….

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Excerpt #4, from Hard Times, by Charles Dickens

…than I can tell. He was angry only one night, and that was not to me, but Merrylegs. Merrylegs;’ she whispered the awful fact; ‘is his performing dog.’ ‘Why was he angry with the dog?’ Louisa demanded. ‘Father, soon after they came home from performing, told Merrylegs to jump up on the backs of the two chairs and stand across them—which is one of his tricks. He looked at father, and didn’t do it at once. Everything of father’s had gone wrong that night, and he hadn’t pleased the public at all. He cried out that the very dog knew he was failing, and had no compassion on him. Then he beat the dog, and I was frightened, and said, “Father, father! Pray don’t hurt the creature who is so fond of you! O Heaven forgive you, father, stop!” And he stopped, and the dog was bloody, and father lay down crying on the floor with the dog in his arms, and the dog licked his face.’ Louisa saw that she was sobbing; and going to her, kissed her, took her hand, and sat down beside her. ‘Finish by telling me how your father left you, Sissy. Now that I have asked you so much, tell me the end. The blame, if there is any blame, is mine, not yours.’ ‘Dear Miss Louisa,’ said Sissy, covering her eyes, and sobbing yet; ‘I came home from the school that afternoon, and found poor father just come…

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Excerpt #5, from Manual of Egyptian Archaeology and Guide to the Study of Antiquities in Egypt

…there are the “Sheikh el Beled”[45] and his wife, Khafra[46], Ranefer, the Prince and General Rahotep, and his wife, Nefert, a “Kneeling Scribe,” and a “Cross-legged Scribe.” The original of the “Cross-legged Scribe” of the Louvre was not a handsome man (fig. 185), but the vigour and fidelity of his portrait amply compensate for the absence of ideal beauty. His legs are crossed and laid flat to the ground in one of those attitudes common among Orientals, yet all but impossible to Europeans. The bust is upright, and well balanced upon the hips. The head is uplifted. The right hand holds the reed pen, which pauses in its place on the open papyrus scroll. Thus, for six thousand years he has waited for his master to go on with the long- interrupted dictation. The face is square-cut, and the strongly-marked features indicate a man in the prime of life. The mouth, wide and thin- lipped, rises slightly towards the corners, which are lost in the projecting muscles by which it is framed in. The cheeks are bony and lank; the ears are thick and heavy, and stand out well from the head; the thick, coarse hair is cut close above the brow. The eyes, which are large and well open, owe their lifelike vivacity to an ingenious contrivance of the ancient artist. The orbit has been cut out from the stone, the hollow being filled with an eye composed of enamel, white and black. The edges of the eyelids are of bronze, and a small silver nail inserted behind the iris receives and reflects the light in such wise as to imitate the light of…

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Excerpt #6, from Diego Collado’s Grammar of the Japanese Language, by Diego Collado

…Tokyo, 1973. Laures, Johannes, S.J., Kirishitan Bunko, Tokyo, 1957. Lebrija, Antonio (Antonius Nebrissensis), Introductiones Latinae, Salamanca, 1481. Moran, Joseph F., A Commentary on the Arte Breve da Lingoa Iapoa of João Rodriguez, S.J.: With Particular Reference to Pronunciation, Unpublished doctoral thesis, Oxford, 1971. Ōtomo Shin’ichi [Japanese], Muromachi-jidai no kokugo-onsei no kenkyū [Japanese], Tokyo, 1963. Ōtsuka Mitsunobu [Japanese], ed., Koryaado Ra-Su-Nichi jiten [Japanese], Tokyo, 1966. (Japanese edition of Collado’s Dictionarium.) Ōtsuka Mitsunobu [Japanese], ed., Koryaado zangeroku [Japanese], Tokyo, 1957. (Japanese edition of Collado’s Confesion.) {186} Ōtsuka Takanobu [Japanese], tr., Koiyaado-chō Nihongo bunten [Japanese], Tokyo, 1934. (Revised as Koryaado Nihon bunten [Japanese], Tokyo, 1957. Translation of Collado’s Ars Grammaticae.) Rodriguez, João, S.J., Arte Breve da Lingoa Iapoa, Macao, 1620. (Cf. Laures #35.) Rodriguez, João, S.J., Arte da Lingoa de Iapam, Nagasaki, 1604-1608. (Translated by Doi Tadao as Rodorigesu Nihon daibunten, 1955. Cf. Laures #28.)…

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Excerpt #7, from Nonsense Novels, by Stephen Leacock

…Sally_, lying in dock at Gravesend, to fill the berth of second mate. Let me first say a word about myself. I was a tall, handsome young fellow, squarely and powerfully built, bronzed by the sun and the moon (and even copper-coloured in spots from the effect of the stars), and with a face in which honesty, intelligence, and exceptional brain power were combined with Christianity, simplicity, and modesty. As I stepped on the deck I could not help a slight feeling of triumph, as I caught sight of my sailor-like features reflected in a tar-barrel that stood beside the mast, while a little later I could scarcely repress a sense of gratification as I noticed them reflected again in a bucket of bilge water. “Welcome on board, Mr. Blowhard,” called out Captain Bilge, stepping out of the binnacle and shaking hands across the taffrail. Illustration: “Welcome on board, Mr. Blowhard” I saw before me a fine sailor-like man of from thirty to sixty, clean-shaven, except for an enormous pair of whiskers, a heavy beard, and a thick moustache, powerful in build, and carrying his beam well aft, in a pair of broad duck trousers across the back of which there would have been room to write a history of the British Navy. Beside him were the first and third mates, both of them being quiet men…

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Excerpt #8, from The Tale of Genji, by Murasaki Shikibu

…was frightened of getting scolded?’ Remembering her rank and upbringing, he was far from expecting her to behave with the lively pertness of an up-to-date miss. She would be langorous; yes, langorous and passionate. When, half-pushed by Myōbu, the princess at last took her stand near the partition where she was to converse with her visitor, a delicious scent of sandal-wood[5] invaded his nostrils, and this piece of coquetry at once raised his hopes. He began to tell her with great earnestness and eloquence how for almost a year she had continually occupied his thoughts. But not a word did she answer; talking to her was no better than writing! Irritated beyond measure he recited the verse: ‘If with a Vow of Silence thus ten times and again my combat I renew, ’tis that against me at least no sentence of muteness has been passed.’ ‘Speak at least one word of dismissal,’ he continued; ‘do not leave me in this bewilderment.’ There was among her ladies one called Jijū, the daughter of her old nurse. Being a girl of great liveliness and intelligence she could not bear to see her mistress cutting such a figure as this and stepping to her side she answered with the poem: ‘The bell[6] had sounded and for a moment silence was imposed upon my lips. To have kept you waiting grieves me, and there let the matter rest.’ She said the words in such a way that Genji was completely…

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Excerpt #9, from Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens

…Mr. Bumble no sooner uttered Oliver’s name, in explanation of his errand, than Mrs. Bedwin, who had been listening at the parlour door, hastened into the passage in a breathless state. “Come in, come in,” said the old lady: “I knew we should hear of him. Poor dear! I knew we should! I was certain of it. Bless his heart! I said so all along.” Having heard this, the worthy old lady hurried back into the parlour again; and seating herself on a sofa, burst into tears. The girl, who was not quite so susceptible, had run upstairs meanwhile; and now returned with a request that Mr. Bumble would follow her immediately: which he did. He was shown into the little back study, where sat Mr. Brownlow and his friend Mr. Grimwig, with decanters and glasses before them. The latter gentleman at once burst into the exclamation: “A beadle. A parish beadle, or I’ll eat my head.” “Pray don’t interrupt just now,” said Mr. Brownlow. “Take a seat, will you?” Mr. Bumble sat himself down; quite confounded by the oddity of Mr. Grimwig’s manner. Mr. Brownlow moved the lamp, so as to obtain an uninterrupted view of the beadle’s countenance; and said, with a little impatience,…

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Excerpt #10, from Mr. Punch’s Golf Stories, by J. A. Hammerton

…the sheet. (Do not trouble to insert your nickname, as it is a matter of indifference to the examiners whether you are locally known as “Tiger,” “Ginger,” or “Bill Bailey.”) 2. State your age. If this is less than six, or more than seventy-five years, you may omit the remaining questions and retire at once from the examination. 3. Are you married or single? Give reasons for your answer. 4. Illustrate the finer points of distinction between (a) a niblick and a gutty; (b) a bye and a bulger. 5. Are you a Protectionist or a Total Abstainer? 6. Rewrite the following passage, correcting anything that may strike you as an error or an incongruity:–“In an 18-hole match, X., a scratch player with a handicap of 20, stood dormy 12 at the 17th hole, but while half-way through the final green was unfortunate enough to get badly bunkered behind the tee-box. Being required to play ‘two more’ to his opponent Y., who had laid himself dead in 6, he only played one of them, thus holing out in 5, and securing a victory by the narrow margin of 4 up and 7 to play.” 7. Given that the regulation charge for a round is a shilling, would you…

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Excerpt #11, from English as she is spoke; or, a jest in sober earnest, by Carolino and Fonseca

…mysterious adjuration, which a reference to the original Portuguese leads one to suppose may be a daring guess at “Choisissez un pen mieux vos paroles.” In the second part, entitled “Familiar Dialogues,” the fun grows fast and furious. Let us accompany our mad wag upon “The walk.” “You hear the bird’s gurgling?” he enquires, and then rapturously exclaims “Which pleasure! which charm! The field has by me a thousand charms”; after this, to the question “Are you hunter? Will you go to the hunting in one day this week?” he responds “Willingly; I have not a most pleasure in the world. There is some game on they cantons.” Proceeding from “game” to “gaming” we soon run aground upon the word “jeu,” which as we know does duty in French both for a game and a pack of cards. “At what pack will you that we does play?” “To the cards.” Of course this is “A quel Jeu voulez vous que nous Jouions?” “Aux cartes;” and further on “This time I have a great deal pack,” “Cette fois j’ai un jeu excellent!” Now let us listen to our friend at his tailor’s: his greeting is perky–almost slangy. “Can you do me a coat?” he enquires, but quickly drivels down to “What cloth will you do to?” and then to the question “What will you to double (doubler) the coat?” obtains the satisfactory answer "From something of duration. I believe to you…

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Excerpt #12, from The Awakening, and Selected Short Stories, by Kate Chopin

…Unlocking the door of her bath-room she went inside, and soon emerged, bringing a rug, which she spread upon the floor of the gallery, and two huge hair pillows covered with crash, which she placed against the front of the building. The two seated themselves there in the shade of the porch, side by side, with their backs against the pillows and their feet extended. Madame Ratignolle removed her veil, wiped her face with a rather delicate handkerchief, and fanned herself with the fan which she always carried suspended somewhere about her person by a long, narrow ribbon. Edna removed her collar and opened her dress at the throat. She took the fan from Madame Ratignolle and began to fan both herself and her companion. It was very warm, and for a while they did nothing but exchange remarks about the heat, the sun, the glare. But there was a breeze blowing, a choppy, stiff wind that whipped the water into froth. It fluttered the skirts of the two women and kept them for a while engaged in adjusting, readjusting, tucking in, securing hair-pins and hat-pins. A few persons were sporting some distance away in the water. The beach was very still of human sound at that hour. The lady in black was reading her morning devotions on the porch of a neighboring bath-house. Two young lovers were exchanging their hearts’ yearnings beneath the children’s tent, which they had found unoccupied….

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