Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:24:40

Excerpt #1, from Japan: From the Japanese Government History, by Kan’ichi Asakawa

…gross produce. Of the other two kinds of taxes one was called yō and the other chō. The former may be regarded as a species of corvée. After a man attained the age of twenty-one he was required to perform ten days’ public work annually, which service, however, he was at liberty to commute for one piece of cloth (nuno). The chō was levied on silk, fish, cloth, and generally speaking on objects produced or obtained in considerable quantities. The proceeds of the rice-tax were applied to defray the expenses of local administration, while the outlay of the central government was met by the proceeds of the two other taxes, yō and chō. As regards local administration, the old names of local divisions, kuni (provinces) and kōri (districts), were retained, while towns, sato, were organized generally by grouping together fifty houses under a town-head. Along the principal roads relays of post horses were maintained for public service, and every person traveling in the interior was required by law to carry a hand-bell and a document similar to a passport. At important places guard-houses were established, with duly appointed lookouts and garrisons for preserving order. Government business was transacted in the provinces under the control of officials collectively called kokushi, and in the districts under that of gunshi. The former set of officers were appointed by the central…

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Excerpt #2, from The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman

…of astonishment, he asked: “Did you take it, my dear?” “What?….No, I have not taken anything.” “You must have moved it.” “Not at all. I have not even opened that door.” He appeared at the door, disconcerted, and stammered, in a scarcely intelligible voice: “You haven’t….It wasn’t you?….Then….” She hastened to his assistance, and, together, they made a thorough search, throwing the boxes to the floor and overturning the piles of linen. Then the count said, quite discouraged: “It is useless to look any more. I put it here, on this shelf.” “You must be mistaken.” “No, no, it was on this shelf–nowhere else.” They lighted a candle, as the room was quite dark, and then carried out all the linen and other articles that the room contained. And, when the room was emptied, they confessed, in despair, that the famous necklace had disappeared. Without losing time in vain lamentations, the countess notified the commissary of police, Mon. Valorbe, who came at once, and, after hearing their story, inquired of the count: “Are you sure that no one passed through your chamber during the night?”…

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Excerpt #3, from A Breeze from the Woods, 2nd Ed., by W. C. Bartlett

…were crude and primitive, the result will be somewhat mixed. We should say that the grafts put into that old house were tolerably satisfactory. But we counsel no friend to build over an old house, unless he owns a productive gold mine, and the bill of particulars at the end of his exploit is more interesting and gratifying to him than any modern novel. There was, however, a shade of regret when it was announced that nothing more remained to be done. For three months there had been a series of gentle transitions, and an undercurrent of pleasurable excitement as a door appeared in a new place, a window opened here and there, stairways were cut, and old pieces pushed off and new took their places. It seemed as if these transitions ought to be always going on, and therefore the most natural thing in the world that the carpenters should always be cutting or hammering that house. They might grow old and another set take their places, but there would always be some room to enlarge, or some want growing out of the exigencies of a new day. Moreover, the first part taken in hand would in time decay or become antiquated, and why not associate builders and house together, since all the jars, wrenching of timbers, sawing and hammering had become musical, and seemed to be incorporated as the law of the house? Nothing but financial considerations prevented a contract for life with the builders, and the life-long luxury of changing an old house into a new one. There came a…

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Excerpt #4, from The Black Arrow: A Tale of the Two Roses, by Robert Louis Stevenson

…gymnastics, that he span round and round in mid-air like a criminal upon a gibbet, and now beat his head, and now bruised his hands, against the rugged stonework of the wall. The air roared in his ears; he saw the stars overhead, and the reflected stars below him in the moat, whirling like dead leaves before the tempest. And then he lost hold, and fell, and soused head over ears into the icy water. When he came to the surface his hand encountered the rope, which, newly lightened of his weight, was swinging wildly to and fro. There was a red glow overhead, and looking up, he saw, by the light of several torches and a cresset full of burning coals, the battlements lined with faces. He saw the men’s eyes turning hither and thither in quest of him; but he was too far below, the light reached him not, and they looked in vain. And now he perceived that the rope was considerably too long, and he began to struggle as well as he could towards the other side of the moat, still keeping his head above water. In this way he got much more than half-way over; indeed the bank was almost within reach, before the rope began to draw him back by its own weight. Taking his courage in both hands, he left go and made a leap for the trailing sprays of willow that had already, that same evening, helped Sir Daniel’s messenger to land. He went down, rose again, sank a second time, and then his hand…

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Excerpt #5, from The Jest Book, by Mark Lemon

…A PHYSICIAN of an acrimonious disposition, and having a thorough hatred of lawyers, reproached a barrister with the use of phrases utterly unintelligible. “For example,” said he, “I never could understand what you lawyers mean by docking an entail.”–“That is very likely,” answered the lawyer, “but I will explain it to you: it is doing what you doctors never consent to,–suffering a recovery.” CCCXCVIII.–RECRUITING SERJEANT AND COUNTRYMAN. A RECRUITING serjeant addressing an honest country bumpkin with,–“Come, my lad, thou’lt fight for thy King, won’t thou?”–“Voight for my King,” answered Hodge, “why, has he fawn out wi’ ony body?” CCCXCIX.–AN ANECDOTE. E–D–N was asked by one of note, Why merit he did not promote; “For this good reason,” answered he, “’Cause merit ne’er promoted me.” CD.–DIDO. OF this tragedy, the production of Joseph Reed, author of the “Register Office,” Mr. Nicholls, in his “Literary Anecdotes,” gives some curious particulars. He also relates an anecdote of Johnson concerning it: "It happened that I was in Bolt Court on the day that Henderson, the justly celebrated actor, was first introduced to Dr. Johnson: and the…

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Excerpt #6, from Sailors Narratives of Voyages Along the New England Coast, 1524

…our collars, and that it reached the depth of a foot. Others made signs that there was less, and gave us to understand also that the harbour never froze; but we were unable to ascertain whether the snow lasted long. I conclude, however, that this region is of moderate temperature, and the winter not severe. While we were there, there was a north-east storm, which lasted four days; the sky being so overcast that the sun hardly shone at all. It was very cold, and we were obliged to put on our great-coats, which we had entirely left off. Yet I think the cold was accidental, as it is often experienced elsewhere out of season. On the 23d of July, four or five seamen having gone on shore with some kettles to get fresh water, which was to be found in one of the sand-banks a short distance from our barque, some of the savages, coveting them, watched the time when our men went to the spring, and then seized one out of the hands of a sailor, who was the first to dip, and who had no weapons. One of his companions, starting to run after him, soon returned, as he could not catch him, since he ran much faster than himself. The other savages, of whom there were a large number, seeing our sailors running to our barque, and at the same time shouting to us to fire at them, took to flight. At the time there were some of them in our barque, who threw themselves into…

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Excerpt #7, from A Humorous History of England, by Charles Harrison

…1621 For twenty years ‘twas going strong Then the first Censor came along. This journal cribbing from the Dutch Lacked the smart journalistic touch; And also photographic views, ’Sporting pars’ and ‘Stop-press News.’ [Illustration: The Great Struggle in Charles’ Time. King Trying to get Money from Taxpayer. Creditor Trying to get Money from King] [Illustration: IRON JELLOIDS The Great Tonic THAT QUIET MAN, KNOWN AS THE EARLY PURITAN.] Cotton Cotton first came from India’s shore 1630 In sixteen-thirty, less or more; Where for three thousand years it grew, Also in Egypt and Peru. Grim reading is the note confessing Gangs went out for Navy pressing, Forcing many a timid knave To spend his life on ocean wave. Ship Money Charles raises the ship money tax; 1636 He thought he only had to ‘ax’;…

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Excerpt #8, from Sketches New and Old, by Mark Twain

…One day an individual stranger at the camp him arrested with his box and him said: “What is this that you have them shut up there within?” Smiley said, with an air indifferent: “That could be a paroquet, or a syringe (ou un serin), but this no is nothing of such, it not is but a frog.” The individual it took, it regarded with care, it turned from one side and from the other, then he said: “Tiens! in effect!–At what is she good?” “My God!” respond Smiley, always with an air disengaged, “she is good for one thing, to my notice (à mon avis), she can batter in jumping (elle peut battre en sautant) all frogs of the county of Calaveras.” The individual retook the box, it examined of new longly, and it rendered to Smiley in saying with an air deliberate: “Eh bien! I no saw not that that frog had nothing of better than each frog.” (Je ne vois pas que cette grenouille ait rien de mieux qu’aucune grenouille.) [If that isn’t grammar gone to seed, then I count myself no judge.–M. T.] “Possible that you not it saw not,” said Smiley, “possible that you–you comprehend frogs; possible that you not you there comprehend nothing; possible that you had of the experience, and possible that you not be but…

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Excerpt #9, from Soldiers’ Stories of the War, by Walter Wood and A. C. Michael

…full bandolier is a heavy thing, and there was not much chance of taking aim. We were almost at our wits’ end, but we tried another way. We made a sort of daisy-chain of several bandoliers, and paid this out as best we could towards the trenches. The nearest man in the trench–a plucky chap he was–slipped out and made a dart for the end of the chain. He just made a mad grab and got it. Then he dashed back to his trench, and it seemed as if the business was all over, and that the daisy-chain would be safely hauled in; but to the grief of all of us the chain broke when a few yards of it had been pulled in. This was a dreadful disappointment, but still something had been done, some rounds of ammunition, at any rate, had been got into the trenches, and we were determined that the Tykes should have some more. We had to wait a bit, for as soon as the Yorkshireman had shot back to his trench, the ground that he had scuttled over was absolutely churned up by shells, and if he had been caught on it he would have been blown to rags. We lost no time in making other efforts, and at last the ammunition was safely delivered to the West Yorkshires in the trenches, and they did some rattling good business with it. I have mentioned “Jack Johnsons,” and I want to speak of them again by way of finish. It was at Ypres that I was bowled out. These “J.J.’s”…

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Excerpt #10, from My Man Jeeves, by P. G. Wodehouse

…she was wearing the most perfectly ripping dress. I couldn’t begin to describe it. I can only say it was the limit. It struck me that if this was how she was in the habit of looking every night when they were dining quietly at home together, it was no wonder that Bobbie liked domesticity. “Here’s old Reggie, dear,” said Bobbie. “I’ve brought him home to have a bit of dinner. I’ll phone down to the kitchen and ask them to send it up now—what?” She stared at him as if she had never seen him before. Then she turned scarlet. Then she turned as white as a sheet. Then she gave a little laugh. It was most interesting to watch. Made me wish I was up a tree about eight hundred miles away. Then she recovered herself. “I am so glad you were able to come, Mr. Pepper,” she said, smiling at me. And after that she was all right. At least, you would have said so. She talked a lot at dinner, and chaffed Bobbie, and played us ragtime on the piano afterwards, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Quite a jolly little party it was—not. I’m no lynx-eyed sleuth, and all that sort of thing, but I had seen her face at the beginning, and I knew that she was working the whole time and working hard, to keep herself in hand, and that she would have given that diamond what’s-its-name in…

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Excerpt #11, from The Murder on the Links, by Agatha Christie

…“It is to me incredible that the servants heard nothing. The creaking of that staircase, with three__ people descending it, would awaken the dead!” “It was the middle of the night, remember. They were sound asleep by then.” But Poirot continued to shake his head as though not fully accepting the explanation. On the sweep of the drive, he paused, looking up at the house. “What moved them in the first place to try if the front door were open? It was a most unlikely thing that it should be. It was far more probable that they should at once try to force a window.” “But all the windows on the ground floor are barred with iron shutters,” objected the commissary. Poirot pointed to a window on the first floor. “That is the window of the bedroom we have just come from, is it not? And see—there is a tree by which it would be the easiest thing in the world to mount.” “Possibly,” admitted the other. “But they could not have done so without leaving footprints in the flower-bed.” I saw the justice of his words. There were two large oval flower-beds planted with scarlet geraniums, one each side of the steps leading up…

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Excerpt #12, from Tales of the Air Mail Pilots, by Burt M. McConnell

…through the drifts. Eagerly grasping the wings, they helped to steer it through the doorway. Once safely inside, with the door closed behind them, they looked toward the cockpit, expecting to see Blanchfield’s grinning countenance. What they saw, however, was a huge snowman. The pilot himself could not be seen for the snow that covered him and almost filled the cockpit. He seemed frozen in his seat, with one hand clutching the control stick, and his frosted feet resting upon the steering gear. For more than three and a half hours this fearless pilot, sitting in this cramped position, with a violent storm swirling about him, had battled for his life. For the greater part of the 235 miles the ship had been almost beyond his control. The cold was the worst he had ever experienced. At times his powerful De Haviland had been unable to advance a single foot. His attempts to maneuver the plane out of the storm area were unavailing; the blizzard, it seemed, covered the entire State of Nevada. Certainly this was one of Blanchfield’s very narrowest escapes from death. On another occasion, while en route from Elko to Reno, he ran into another eighty-mile-an-hour gale. As usual, a snowstorm was in progress. Unable to see more than fifty yards in any direction, the pilot might fly into the shoulder of a mountain or be swept by a ‘down…

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