Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:27

Excerpt #1, from Psychology and Social Practice, by John Dewey

…pedagogical rendering of psychological facts and principles. Of necessity, the stress of interest will be elsewhere. But we have already found reason for questioning the possibility of making the somewhat different direction of interest into a rigid dualism of a legislative class on one side and an obedient subject class on the other. Can the teacher ever receive “obligatory prescriptions”? Can he receive from another a statement of the means by which he is to reach his ends, and not become hopelessly servile in his attitude? Would not such a result be even worse than the existing mixture of empiricism and inspiration?–just because it would forever fossilize the empirical element and dispel the inspiration which now quickens routine. Can a passive, receptive attitude on the part of the instructor (suggesting the soldier awaiting orders from a commanding general) be avoided, unless the teacher, as a student of psychology, himself sees the reasons and import of the suggestions and rules that are proffered him? I quote a passage that seems of significance: “Do we not lay a special linking science everywhere else between the theory and practical work? We have engineering between physics and the practical workingmen in the mills; we have a scientific medicine between the natural science and the physician” (p. 138). The sentences suggest, in an almost startling way, that the real essence of the problem is found in an organic connection…

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Excerpt #2, from The King in Yellow, by Robert W. Chambers

…was moving toward me, and called out your name. Have you been trying the old spinet? You must have played very softly." I would tell a thousand more lies worse than that one to see the look of relief that came into her face. She smiled adorably, and said in her natural voice: “Alec, I tripped on that wolf’s head, and I think my ankle is sprained. Please call Marie, and then go home.” I did as she bade me, and left her there when the maid came in. III At noon next day when I called, I found Boris walking restlessly about his studio. “Geneviève is asleep just now,” he told me, “the sprain is nothing, but why should she have such a high fever? The doctor can’t account for it; or else he will not,” he muttered. “Geneviève has a fever?” I asked. “I should say so, and has actually been a little light-headed at intervals all night. The idea! gay little Geneviève, without a care in the world,–and she keeps saying her heart’s broken, and she wants to die!” My own heart stood still. Boris leaned against the door of his studio, looking down, his hands in his pockets, his kind, keen eyes clouded, a new line of trouble drawn…

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Excerpt #3, from The Jest Book, by Mark Lemon

…ARCHDEACON PALEY was in very high spirits when he was presented to his first preferment in the Church. He attended at a visitation dinner just after this event, and during the entertainment called out jocosely, “Waiter, shut down that window at the back of my chair, and open another behind some curate.” MCCCXCI.–A BARBER SHAVED BY A LAWYER. “SIR,” said a barber to an attorney who was passing his door, “will you tell me if this is a good half-sovereign?” The lawyer, pronouncing the piece good, deposited it in his pocket, adding, with gravity, “If you’ll send your lad to my office, I’ll return the three and four-pence.” MCCCXCII.–A MAN OF METAL. EDWIN JAMES, examining a witness, asked him what his business was. He answered, “A dealer in old iron.”–“Then,” said the counsel, “you must of course be a thief.”–“I don’t see,” replied the witness, “why a dealer in iron must necessarily be a thief, more than a dealer in brass.” MCCCXCIII.–SPECIMEN OF THE LACONIC. “BE less prolix,” says Grill. I like advice. “Grill, you’re an ass!” Now, surely, that’s concise. MCCCXCIV.–A DROP….

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Excerpt #4, from Short Stories for High Schools, by Rosa Mary Redding Mikels

…tackler who clung to his waist, he floundered to earth with most of the Princeton team piled above him. But the ball lay beyond the fateful chalk-line, the Yale touchdown was won, and the game was tied. The captain clapped Seeley on the shoulder, nodded at the ball, and the full-back limped on to the field to kick the goal or lose a victory. There were no more signs of nervousness in his bearing. With grave deliberation he stood waiting for the ball to be placed in front of the goal-posts. The sun had dropped behind the lofty grand-stands. The field lay in a kind of wintry twilight. Thirty thousand men and women gazed in tensest silence at the mud-stained, battered youth who had become the crowning issue of this poignant moment. Up in the press-box a thick-set, grayish man dug his fists in his eyes and could not bear to look at the lonely, reliant figure down yonder on the quiet field. The father found courage to take his hands from his face only when a mighty roar of joy boomed along the Yale side of the amphitheatre, and he saw the ball drop in a long arc behind the goal-posts. The kick had won the game for Yale. Once clear of the crowds, Henry Seeley hurried toward the training quarters. His head was up, his shoulders squared, and he walked with the free stride of an athlete. Mr. Richard Giddings danced madly across to him:…

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Excerpt #5, from The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

…garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her. CHAPTER VIII. It was long past noon when he awoke. His valet had crept several times on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring, and had wondered what made his young master sleep so late. Finally his bell sounded, and Victor came in softly with a cup of tea, and a pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres china, and drew back the olive-satin curtains, with their shimmering blue lining, that hung in front of the three tall windows. “Monsieur has well slept this morning,” he said, smiling. “What o’clock is it, Victor?” asked Dorian Gray drowsily. “One hour and a quarter, Monsieur.” How late it was! He sat up, and having sipped some tea, turned over his letters. One of them was from Lord Henry, and had been brought by hand that morning. He hesitated for a moment, and then put it aside. The others he opened listlessly. They contained the usual collection of cards, invitations to dinner, tickets for private views, programmes of charity concerts, and the like that are showered on fashionable young men every morning during the season. There was a rather heavy bill for a chased silver Louis-Quinze toilet-set that he had not yet had the courage to send on to his guardians, who were extremely old-fashioned…

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Excerpt #6, from Arms and the Man, by Bernard Shaw

…seen him yet. Perhaps I can help you to settle about the regiments. SERGIUS…. (protesting). My dear madam, impossible: you— CATHERINE. (stopping him playfully). You stay here, my dear Sergius: there’s no hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. (Sergius instantly bows and steps back.) Now, dear (taking Petkoff’s arm), come and see the electric bell. PETKOFF. Oh, very well, very well. (They go into the house together affectionately. Sergius, left alone with Raina, looks anxiously at her, fearing that she may be still offended. She smiles, and stretches out her arms to him.) (Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.) SERGIUS…. (hastening to her, but refraining from touching her without express permission). Am I forgiven? RAINA. (placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him with admiration and worship). My hero! My king. SERGIUS….

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Excerpt #7, from Sailors Narratives of Voyages Along the New England Coast, 1524

…which pieces so distributed they hang vp about their houses for prouision: and when they boile them, they blow off the fat, and put to their peaze, maiz, and other pulse, which they eat. [Illustration: (Decorative separator)] A briefe Note of what profits we saw the Countrey yeeld in the small time of our stay there. Trees. Oke of an excellent graine, strait, and great timber. Elme. Beech. Birch, very tall & great; of whose barke they make their Canoas. Wich-Hazell. Hazell. Alder. Cherry-tree. Ash. Maple. Yew. Spruce. Aspe. Firre….

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Excerpt #8, from A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens

…in his place, as a physician, whose business was with all degrees of mankind, bond and free, rich and poor, bad and good, he used his personal influence so wisely, that he was soon the inspecting physician of three prisons, and among them of La Force. He could now assure Lucie that her husband was no longer confined alone, but was mixed with the general body of prisoners; he saw her husband weekly, and brought sweet messages to her, straight from his lips; sometimes her husband himself sent a letter to her (though never by the Doctor’s hand), but she was not permitted to write to him: for, among the many wild suspicions of plots in the prisons, the wildest of all pointed at emigrants who were known to have made friends or permanent connections abroad. This new life of the Doctor’s was an anxious life, no doubt; still, the sagacious Mr. Lorry saw that there was a new sustaining pride in it. Nothing unbecoming tinged the pride; it was a natural and worthy one; but he observed it as a curiosity. The Doctor knew, that up to that time, his imprisonment had been associated in the minds of his daughter and his friend, with his personal affliction, deprivation, and weakness. Now that this was changed, and he knew himself to be invested through that old trial with forces to which they both looked for Charles’s ultimate safety and deliverance, he became so far exalted by the change, that he took the lead and direction, and required them as the weak, to…

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Excerpt #9, 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 #10, from Tales of the Air Mail Pilots, by Burt M. McConnell

…fifteen minutes, Ellis, flying a hundred feet above the snow, had “picked up” a floundering figure half way between the stalled machine and the farmhouse. Settling gradually, in order not to break the undercarriage of his plane and thus leave all three at the mercy of the blizzard, Ellis and his mechanic landed near their exhausted comrade. After a meal and some hot coffee, Bishop was able to “sit in” at a council of war. Ellis’s machine, they agreed, could carry the three of them, provided it could get into the air. But ground conditions were so unfavorable—the drifts were so deep—that this seemed impossible. It was then agreed that they would “taxi” the machine to a clear spot six miles to the westward, from which to take off. For four miles, with each mile rapidly eating up their fuel supply, they churned their way through the powdery drifts, with Bishop huddled in the cockpit and the mechanic, comparatively fresh and warmly clothed, clinging to a precarious position on one of the wings. Finally, Ellis, realizing that his gasoline supply was becoming dangerously reduced, suggested that Bishop, with the aid of the mechanic, try to reach the farmhouse, now some four miles distant, while he flew back to Hock Springs to report Bishop’s safety—and get more gasoline. This they attempted, but Ellis, watching Bishop’s…

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Excerpt #11, from Investigation of Communist Activities in Seattle, Wash., Area, Hearings, Part 1

…examined by a doctor here, and if the doctor here should rule that he can testify I would have no objection. I thought that I should protect Mr. Kerr. Mr. MOULDER. This is very vague. Mr. SYKES. That is correct. Mr. MOULDER. And very indefinite. We will take this under consideration. Counsel, will you call another witness? Mr. WHEELER. Mr. Harold Johnston. Mr. MOULDER. Hold up your right hand and be sworn, please. Do you solemnly swear that the testimony which you are about to give before this committee will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God? Mr. JOHNSTON. I do. TESTIMONY OF HAROLD JOHNSTON, ACCOMPANIED BY HIS COUNSEL, JAY C. SYKES Mr. WHEELER. Will the witness state his name, please? Mr. JOHNSTON. Harold Johnston. Mr. WHEELER. Are you represented by counsel? Will counsel identify himself for the record? Mr. SYKES. Jay G. Sykes, Seattle. Mr. WHEELER. When and where were you born, Mr. Johnston?…

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Excerpt #12, from Best Russian Short Stories, by Leonid Andreyev et al.

…name-day too." The officials naturally at once offered the assistant clerk their congratulations, and accepted the invitation with pleasure. Akaky Akakiyevich would have declined; but all declared that it was discourteous, that it was simply a sin and a shame, and that he could not possibly refuse. Besides, the notion became pleasant to him when he recollected that he should thereby have a chance of wearing his new cloak in the evening also. That whole day was truly a most triumphant festival for Akaky Akakiyevich. He returned home in the most happy frame of mind, took off his cloak, and hung it carefully on the wall, admiring afresh the cloth and the lining. Then he brought out his old, worn-out cloak, for comparison. He looked at it, and laughed, so vast was the difference. And long after dinner he laughed again when the condition of the “cape” recurred to his mind. He dined cheerfully, and after dinner wrote nothing, but took his ease for a while on the bed, until it got dark. Then he dressed himself leisurely, put on his cloak, and stepped out into the street. Where the host lived, unfortunately we cannot say. Our memory begins to fail us badly. The houses and streets in St. Petersburg have become so mixed up in our head that it is very difficult to get anything out…

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