Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:24:46

Excerpt #1, from An Universal Dictionary of the Marine, by William Falconer

…which is always on the side opposite to the top-block e. To the lower end of the top-rope is fixed the top-tackle h, the effort of which being transmitted to the top-rope d, and thence to the heel of the top-mast f, necessarily lifts the latter upwards, parallel to the lower-mast. When the top-mast is raised to its proper height, fig. 3. the lower end of it becomes firmly wedged in the square hole, above described, between the tressel-trees. A bar of wood, or iron, called the fid, is then thrust through a hole i in the heel of it, across the tressel-trees, by which the whole weight of the top-mast is supported. In the same manner as the top-mast is retained at the head of the lower-mast, the top-gallant-mast is erected, and fixed at the head of the top-mast. Besides the parts already mentioned in the construction of masts, with respect to their length, the lower-masts of the largest ships are composed of several pieces united into one body. As these are generally the most substantial parts of various trees, a mast, formed by this assemblage, is justly esteemed much stronger than one consisting of any single trunk, whose internal solidity may be very uncertain. The several pieces are formed and joined together, as represented in the section of a lower-mast of this sort, fig. 4. plate VI. where a is the shaft, or principal piece into which the rest are fixed, with their sides or faces…

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Excerpt #2, from A Christmas Carol in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Christmas, by Charles Dickens

…foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt, and leading by the bridle an ass laden with wood. “Why, it’s Ali Baba!” Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. “It’s dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes, I know! One Christmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here all alone, he did come, for the first time, just like that. Poor boy! And Valentine,” said Scrooge, “and his wild brother, Orson; there they go! And what’s his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep, at the Gate of Damascus; don’t you see him! And the Sultan’s Groom turned upside down by the Genii; there he is upon his head! Serve him right. I’m glad of it. What business had he to be married to the Princess!” To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excited face; would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city, indeed. “There’s the Parrot!” cried Scrooge. "Green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, he called…

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Excerpt #3, from Grimm Tales Made Gay, by Guy Wetmore Carryl

…And soon a wealthy mate she found. (I think nobody ever knew The happier husband of the two!) The Moral of the tale is: Bah! Nous avons changé tout celà. No clear idea I hope to strike Of what your nicest girl is like, But she whose best young man I am Is not an oyster, nor a clam! [Illustration: This shows why each suitor, who rode up to spark, Would mark the toad maybe, but ne’er toed the mark.] How Beauty Contrived to Get Square with the Beast Miss Guinevere Platt Was so beautiful that She couldn’t remember the day When one of her swains Hadn’t taken the pains To send her a mammoth bouquet. And the postman had found, On the whole of his round, That no one received such a lot…

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Excerpt #4, from Remarks, by Bill Nye

…and then insisted on coming in to sob with him in the morning before he has swept the office floor. One time she came and sobbed on my shoulder. Her tears are of the warm, damp kind, and feel disagreeable as they roll down the neck of a comparative stranger, who never can be aught but a friend. She rested her bonnet on my bosom while she wept, and I then discovered that she has been in the habit of wearing this bonnet while cooking her buckwheat pancakes. I presume she keeps her bonnet on all the time, so that she may be ready to dash out and consult me at all times without delay. Still, she ought not to do it, for when she leans her head on the bosom of her counsel in order to consult him, he detects the odor of the early sausage and the fleeting pancake. You may bust such a bonnet and crush it if you will, But the scent of the pancake will cling round it still. As soon as I saw that her object was to lean up against me and not only convulse herself with sobs, but that she intended to jar me also with her great woe, I told her that I would have to request her to avaunt. I then, as she did not act upon my suggestion, avaunted her myself. I avaunted her into a chair with a sickening thud. [Illustration: A TENDER CASE.] She then burst forth in a torrent of vituperation. When the abnormal…

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Excerpt #5, from Not that it Matters, by A. A. Milne

…a wasp gun indicates a lack of silver spoons suitable for lethal uses. Perhaps it shows too careful a consideration of the marmalade. A man of money drowns his wasp in the jar with his spoon, and carelessly calls for another pot to be opened. The poor man waits on the outskirts with his gun, and the marmalade, void of corpses, can still be passed round. Your gun proclaims your poverty; then let it be avoided. All the same I think I shall have one. I have kept clear of hat- guards and Richards and made-up ties without quite knowing why, but honestly I have not felt the loss of them. The wasp gun is different; having seen it, I feel that I should be miserable without it. It is going to be excellent sport, wasp-shooting; a steady hand, a good eye, and a certain amount of courage will be called for. When the season opens I shall be there, good form or bad form. We shall shoot the apple-quince coverts first. “Hornet over!” A Slice of Fiction This is a jolly world, and delightful things go on in it. For instance, I had a picture post card only yesterday from William Benson, who is staying at Ilfracombe. He wrote to say that he had gone down to Ilfracombe for a short holiday, and had been much…

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Excerpt #6, from The Busy Life of Eighty Five Years of Ezra Meeker, by Ezra Meeker

…McLeod, was one of the party (mob, the company called it), but the records do not show whether he read his chapter in the Bible that day, or whether instead, he took a double portion of whiskey to relieve his conscience. It is doubtful whether the old man thought he was doing wrong or thought anything about it, except that he had a belief that somehow or other a survey might make against him getting a title to his own claim. I had a similar experience at a later date with the Indians near the Muckleshute Reservation, while attempting to extend the sub-divisional lines of the township near where the reserve was located. I could not convince the Indians that the survey meant no harm to them. The case was different in the first instance, as in fact, neither party was acting within the limits of their legal rights, and for the time being, the strongest and most belligerent prevailed, but only to be circumvented at a little later date by a secret completion of the work, sufficient to platting the whole. All this while the little party was halting. The father said the island home would not do, and as he had come two thousand miles to live neighbors, I must give up my claim and take another near theirs, and so, abandoning over a year’s hard work, I acted upon his request with the result told elsewhere, of fleeing from our new chosen home, as we…

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Excerpt #7, from Mr. Punch’s Golf Stories, by J. A. Hammerton

…perswade ’im to put it back. ’E drove wiv that niblick, and ’e played ’is many shots through the green wiv it. And the way that thick strong niblick eat into the turf was enuff to brake the ’art of ’Enery Wilks. We moved slowly forward, leaving be’ind us a line of crewel deep kassims, which nuthink wouldn’t fill up. And ’is stile of bunker play was equilly distrucktive. ’Is noshun of getting out was to distroy the wall of the bunker wiv reppeated blows, and then to force ’is ball throo the rewings. I wouldn’t ’ave belleeved that meer wood and iron could ’ave done the work that that one German niblick did wivout turning an ’air. ’E only smiled ’is slow smile when Mister Brellett or meself venchured a remmonstrance, and ’e would never pick up ’is ball. ’E persevered wiv each ’ole until at last ’e ’ad pushed the ball into the tin, and then ’e would turn and pat my ’ead wiv ’is large ’and. After the fust time I jenerally dodged, and once ’e turned and patted Mister Brellett’s ’ead by accerdent. Like most litterry jents, the latter is rather touchy, and there was neerly trouble; but some’ow, thanks to Mister Schwabstein’s apparent onconshusness of offense, it was erverted. At the thirteenth ’ole Mister Brellett was five up. Mister Schwabstein put down a new ball, wiv a sort of groan, and pulled it wiv ’is niblick right rarnd into the rough. For a long two minnutes we ’unted ’igh and…

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Excerpt #8, from Primitive & Mediaeval Japanese Texts, by F. Victor Dickins

…hidzuchi nakedomo aki-daranu ka mo. 1-10 suggest the death of the Miko (Takechi?); 11-18 the faithful service of his retainers; 19 to end, their inconsolable grief. 3, 4 This common phrase seems to mean ‘for some reason or other’, an expression used to signify dubiety of cause, real or respectful. 24 omohi-hafuru = omohi-hanachi-chirasu. For shikishimano, yukutorino, tsurugitachi see List m. k. tonogomori and amakumoni are quasi m. k. 185 Momoshinuno 1 Minu no ohokimi nishi no umaya tatete kafu koma himukashi no umaya 5 tatete kafu koma kusa koso ha torite kahi-name midzu koso ha kumite kahi-name 10 nani shi ka mo…

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Excerpt #9, from Gladiator, by Philip Wylie

…He shook hands with them. Mrs. Shayne went to an automobile. Her husband invited Hugo to a café. Over the wine he became suddenly less dignified, more human, and almost pathetic. “Tell me about him, Danner. I loved that kid once, you know.” Hugo found himself unexpectedly moved. The man was so eager, so strangely happy. He stroked his white moustache and turned away moist eyes. So Hugo told him. He talked endlessly of the trenches and the dark wet nights and the fire that stabbed through them. He invented brave sorties for his friend, tripled his accomplishments, and put gaiety and wit in his mouth. The father drank every syllable as if he was committing the whole story to memory as the text of a life’s solace. At last he was crying. “That was the Tom I knew,” Hugo said softly. “And that was the Tom I dreamed and hoped and thought he would become when he was a little shaver. Well, he did, Danner.” “A thousand times he did.” Ralph Jordan Shayne blew his nose unashamedly. He thought of his patiently waiting wife. “I’ve got to go, I suppose. This has been more than kind of you, Mr. Danner–Lieutenant Danner. I’m glad–more glad than I can say–that you were there. I understand from the major that you’re no small shakes in this army yourself.” He smiled deferentially….

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Excerpt #10, from In Great Waters: Four Stories, by Thomas A. Janvier

…And then, as they came closer, the memory of Marretje was brought home to them still more sharply and in a strangely startling way: as they saw old Jaap uprise suddenly from where he had been crouched amidst the graves. Bareheaded, with his long grey hair and long grey beard soaked with the falling torrent and flying out before the wind, he stood upright on the crest of the mound close above them–his tall lean figure towering commandingly against the black rain clouds, defiant as some old sea-god of the furious storm. He seemed to be speaking, but the storm noises were as a wall shutting him off from them, and not until they had passed on a little and were to leeward of him could they hear his words. Then they heard him clearly: speaking slowly, with no trace of anger in his tones but with a strange solemn fervour–as though he felt himself to be out beyond the line which separates Time from Eternity, and from that vantage-point uttered with authority the judgments of an outraged God. It was to Geert and Krelis that he spoke, pointing at them with one outstretched hand while the other was raised as though in invocation toward the wild black sky: “For your sins the anger of God is loosed upon you in His tempests, and in His name I curse you with a binding curse. May the raging waters be upon you! May you perish in the wrath of the Zuyder Zee!”…

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Excerpt #11, from The Slang Dictionary: Etymological, Historical and Andecdotal, by John Camden Hotten

…want it.” _Fluff, railway ticket clerks’ slang for short change given by them. The profits thus accruing are called “fluffings,” and the practice is known as “fluffing.” _Fluke, at billiards, playing for one thing and getting another. Hence, generally what one gets accidentally, as an unexpected advantage, “more by luck than judgment.” _Flummery, flattery, gammon, genteel nonsense. In American ships a peculiar kind of light sweet pudding. _Flummux, to perplex or hinder. _Flummuxed, done up, sure of a month in quod, or prison. In mendicant freemasonry, the sign chalked by rogues and tramps upon a gate-post or house corner, to express to succeeding vagabonds that it is unsafe for them to call there, is known as ⦿, or FLUMMUXED, which signifies that the only thing they would be likely to get upon applying for relief would be a “month in quod.”—See QUOD. _Flunkey, a footman or other man-servant. _Flunkeyism, blind worship of rank, birth, or riches, or of all three; toadyism. _Flush, the opposite of “hard up,” in possession of money, not poverty-stricken.—Shakspeare.…

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Excerpt #12, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by William Shakespeare

…And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own. DEMETRIUS. Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him? HERMIA. Yea, and my father. HELENA. And Hippolyta. LYSANDER. And he did bid us follow to the temple. DEMETRIUS. Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him, And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.] BOTTOM. [Waking.] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer. My next is ‘Most fair Pyramus.’ Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life! Stol’n hence, and left me…

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