Dintre toate camerele de filmat, numai fa?? de ?ngerul meu p?zitor, fa?? de Domnul ?i fa?? de cei disp?ru?i sau defavoriza?i nu (vreau s?) joc teatru. ?i, chiar dac? uneori joc f?r? s? vreau, ?i sunt histrion, ?i sunt masochist, ?i mai nu ?tiu cum sunt, m? controlez, revenind asupra firescului meu, asupra purit??ii ?i candorii mele. Ca pe o peniten??, ca pe o cerebralitate. Tot, toate, ale mele.

Babam Sergei Krilov’un, ya?am? boyunca ne tür kay?plar verdi?ini bilseydim, belki de onun hayat?na burnumu sokmazd?m. Ya annem, Hatuna Krilov, hayat?n?n en büyük, en ac?mas?z s?nav?ndan ge?ti?ini... Onu hi?, ama hi?, bu ?ekilde ac?mas?zca yarg?lamazd?m. Ama yapt?m…? Ben hayat?m?n en büyük yanl??l???n? aileme güvenmeyerek yapt?m. Ya?amlar?n? sürgüne g?nderdim. Kendimi bir dipsiz kuyunun i?ine b?rakt?m. Ni?in? Merak ve h?rs?m u?runa m?? Bedelini sadece tekerlekli sandalyeye mahkum kalarak ?demi? olsam da, can? cehenneme…? Aileme daha a??r bedeller ?detti?ime kahroluyorum. ?imdi, minik o?luma baba olarak ne anlataca??m? Ailemi nas?l mahvetti?imi mi? Ama ben ailemin yapt??? hatay? yapmayaca??m. Susmayaca??m. O?luma olanlar? tüm samimiyetle anlataca??m. ? ? ? ? ? ? ??MZA: La?a Krilov ? ? ? “Birilerinin günah ke?isi olarak b?rak?ld???m? kime anlatabilirdim ki?” ? ? ? ? ? ??MZA: Sergei Krilov ?? ?Sevilmeyi sevmekle yetinmedim maalesef. Elinin kiri olan para sevgisi a??r bas?nca k?rle?iyormu? insan, bilemedim. Kaybettim. ?o?u ?eyi kaybettim. Hala da kaybetmeye devam edince, hayatta fazla olan?n ben oldu?umu anlad?m.” ? ? ? ? ? ??MZA: Hatuna Krilov ? ?“Bo?a b?rak?lan Mail kim? diye sorarsan?z, O benim..” ? ? ? ? ? ??MZA: ?ksüz ? ??Kimileri beni vicdans?z bilse de ?yle de?il i?te. Belki ben hayal etti?im kusursuz ailemin o?lu olmak istedi?im i?in ?u an ma?durum. Sence Dimo… E?er aile bir k?kse, o zaman vicdan toprak olmal?. Hangi vicdanl? insan zehirli topra?? benimser? Hi?… hi? de?il mi Dimo. Ve ben bu hi? olan insanlar?n aras?nda sadece zerre kadar ufak bir yerdeyim. E?er kendimi kaybedersem, i?imdeki adaletimi yok edersem, ben de yok olurum. Anlayaca??n, senin s?rr?n?n “K?r Dü?ümü”nü ??zmem laz?m. Yazar Hakk?nda: ?rina Andreeva, 1970 senesinde Gürcistan’?n Dedoplisckaro kasabas?nda fakir bir ailede dünyaya geldi. 1992 senesinde Tiflis’te meslek yüksekokulunu bitirdi ve o senelerde gü?lü bir ba??ms?zl?k hareketiyle sars?lan memleketini terk ederek, hayat?n? kazanmak i?in annesinin memleketi olan Rusya’ya yerle?ti. “Hayat dipsiz bir kuyu”, s?zünü s?k s?k dile getiren yazar, ?imdilerde ya?am?n? Türkiye’de, iki o?lu ve e?iyle sürdürmekte. Kitaplar?: LANETL? EV. (Bas?lm?? kitap) KURUTULMU? KELEBEKLER. (Bas?lm?? kitap) AKLIMDAK? ?EYTAN. (Bas?lm?? kitap) K?RD???M (Bas?lm?? kitap) KU?LARA EMANET (Bas?lm?? kitap) ?u an “A?A?TAN KIZLAR” (dosya) üzerinde ?al??maktay?m. ? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

MANY of the tales in this collection appeared either in the Indian Antiquary, the Calcutta Review, or the Legends of the Punjab. They were then in the form of literal translations, in many cases uncouth or even unpresentable to ears polite, in all scarcely intelligible to the untravelled English reader; for it must be remembered that, with the exception of the Adventures of Raja Ras?lu, all these stories are strictly folk-tales passing current among a people who can neither read nor write, and whose diction is full of colloquialisms, and, if we choose to call them so, vulgarisms. It would be manifestly unfair, for instance, to compare the literary standard of such tales with that of the Arabian Nights, the Tales of a Parrot, or similar works. ??The manner in which these stories were collected is in itself sufficient to show how misleading it would be, if, with the intention of giving the conventional Eastern flavour to the text, it were to be manipulated into a flowery dignity; and as a description of the procedure will serve the double purpose of credential and excuse, the authors give it,—premising that all the stories but three have been collected by Mrs. F. A. Steel during winter tours through the various districts of which her husband has been Chief Magistrate.??- SIR BUZZ?- THE RAT'S WEDDING?- THE FAITHFUL PRINCE?- THE BEAR'S BAD BARGAIN?- PRINCE LIONHEART AND HIS THREE FRIENDS?- THE LAMBIKIN?- BOPOLUCHI?- PRINCESS AUBERGINE?- VALIANT VICKY, THE BRAVE WEAVER?- THE SON OF SEVEN MOTHERS?- THE SPARROW AND THE CROW?- THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL?- THE KING OF THE CROCODILES?- LITTLE ANKLEBONE?- THE CLOSE ALLIANCE?- THE TWO BROTHERS?- THE JACKAL AND THE IGUANA?- THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF POOR HEN-SPARROW?- PRINCESS PEPPERINA?- PEASIE AND BEANSIE?- THE JACKAL AND THE PARTRIDGE?- THE SNAKE-WOMAN AND KING ALI MARDAN?- THE WONDERFUL RING?- THE JACKAL AND THE PEA-HEN?- THE GRAIN OF CORN?- THE FARMER AND THE MONEY-LENDER?- THE LORD OF DEATH?- THE WRESTLERS?- THE LEGEND OF GWASHBRARI, THE GLACIER-HEARTED QUEEN?- THE BARBER'S CLEVER WIFE?- THE JACKAL AND THE CROCODILE?- HOW RAJA RASALU WAS BORN?- HOW RAJA RASALU WENT OUT INTO THE WORLD?- HOW RAJA RASALU'S FRIENDS FORSOOK HIM?- HOW RAJA RASALU KILLED THE GIANTS?- HOW RAJA RASALU BECAME A JOGI?- HOW RAJA RASALU JOURNEYED TO THE CITY OF - KING SARKAP?- HOW RAJA RASALU SWUNG THE SEVENTY FAIR MAIDENS, DAUGHTERS OF THE KING?- HOW RAJA RASALU PLAYED CHAUPUR WITH KING SARKAP?- THE KING WHO WAS FRIED?- PRINCE HALF-A-SON?- THE MOTHER AND DAUGHTER WHO WORSHIPPED THE SUN?- THE RUBY PRINCE??Then comes the need for patience, since in all probability the first story is one you have heard a hundred times, or else some pointless and disconnected jumble. At the conclusion of either, however, the teller must be profusely complimented, in the hopes of eliciting something more valuable. But it is possible to waste many hours, and in the end find yourself possessed of nothing save some feeble variant of a well-known legend, or, what is worse, a compilation of oddments which have lingered in a faulty memory from half a dozen distinct stories. After a time, however, the attentive collector is rewarded by finding that a coherent whole is growing up in his or her mind out of the shreds and patches heard here and there, and it is delight indeed when your own dim suspicion that this part of the puzzle fits into that is confirmed by finding the two incidents preserved side by side in the mouth of some perfectly unconscious witness.

Soarta temporar? a unui copil n?scut ?n Balcani sau o istorie mistic? a manipul?rii ce a devenit aproape genetic?. Timp de cateva zile sau ani, micul Helio se treze?te sechestrat ?ntr-un mod atipic. I se spune c? astfel va fi nu doar ocrotit, ci ?i m?ntuit. ?n fa?a auzului sau trece o ?ntreag? lume r?s?ritean? textualizat? care con?ine p?rerile ?i imaginile c?torva genera?ii de oameni. Se vorbe?te patetic, parodic ?i uneori paranoic despre majoritatea ?ncerc?rilor prin care a trecut ?i trece spa?iul nostru: r?zboaiele mondiale, Holocaustul, comunismul, democra?ia, tranzi?ia, lumea romanului dep??ind grani?ele geografice ?i istorice ?i convertindu-se la metafora unei postmodernit??i sterilizate de crun?ta demonetizare a cuv?ntului.

Güney yurdundan Kuzey yurduna her yl gnderilen dokuz lüm mahkumu... Mahkumlardan birinin yeminine ihanet ederek kamas... Yeniden seilen mahkumlar bu sefer ant ierler nedensiz, sonu belirsiz bu düzeni bozmaya. Son mahkum olmaya... Onlar ZGRLK SAVAILARI!!! Nam- dier LM MAHKUMLARI!! lüm mahkumlarnn ak, kskanlk, mücadele ve heyecanla dolu zorlu yolculuu elik ederek Güne ve Ay Tapnaklar arasna incecik ipliklerle dokunmu tasavvuf mistik dokuyu kefetmeniz; kendi isel uyannz gerekletirmeniz temennisiyle... YAZAR: Neslihan Gültepe Maden, 1987 Konya doumlu. Seluk niversitesi Türke Eitimi Ana Bilim Dal mezunudur. Antalya’da Türke retmeni olarak grev yapmakta, Evli ve ü ocuk annesi..

Yazar, bandan geen gizemli olaylar okuyucusuyla paylamaktadr.Yazar yal bir kadn tesadüfen kaldrmda baygn vaziyette bulur hastaneye kaldrr fakat daha sonra hastane odasnda brakr ve mutsuz ekilde Bodrum’a geri dner. ünkü yaynevlerinden bekledii ilgiyi grmez.Doktor hemire ve hastalar kadn ok sever ve sahip karlar.Yal kadna daha sonra devlet sahip kar ve onu bir huzur evine yatrr. Yal kadn orada da ok sevilir. Fakat huzur evi müdürü kadndan üphelenir. Yazar ise bir türlü istedii eseri yazamamaktadr. stelik ok sevdii ruh eine kavuamamaktadr. Bütün skntlarn zecek gü yal kadndr fakat yazar bunu bilmez. Fakat yazarn kader dngüsü deimek üzeredir ve yal kadn onu kendisine doru arr.Yazar balarda bununla mücadele etmeye alr fakat daha sonra pes eder. stanbul’a doru yolculuk yapmaya karar verir. Yolculuk esnasnda rüyasnda gerilim ve gizemli olaylar grür bilmedii ey aslnda bu olaylarn gerekte yaanddr. Yal kadn düündüü kii deildir.Yazarn gizemli bir ekilde tant yal kadnn srlar vardr. Yazar gerek grevi iin armaktadr.Aslnda yazar kayp halkadan birisidir.

Here we are! And now I will wind the clock. Gurr! gurr! gurr! Tick-tock! tick-tock! I PUT on my dream-cap one day and stepped into Wonderland.Along the road I jogged and never dusted my shoes, and all the time the pleasant sun shone and never burned my back, and the little white clouds floated across the blue sky and never let fall a drop of rain to wet my jacket. And by and by I came to a steep hill. I climbed the hill, though I had more than one tumble in doing it, and there, on the tip-top, I found a house as old as the world itself. That was where Father Time lived; and who should sit in the sun at the door, spinning away for dear life, but Time's Grandmother herself; and if you would like to know how old she is you will have to climb to the top of the church steeple and ask the wind as he sits upon the weather-cock, humming the tune of Over-yonder song to himself. "Good-morning," says Time's Grandmother to me."Good-morning," says I to her. "And what do you seek here?" says she to me. "I come to look for odds and ends," says I to her. "Very well," says she; "just climb the stairs to the garret, and there you will find more than ten men can think about."

Jean Bodel a minstrel of the thirteenth century, wrote, "There are but three subjects which interest men,—the tales of France, of Britain, and of Rome the great; and to these subjects there is nothing like. The tales of Britain are so light and pleasant, those of Rome are wise and of teachful sense; those of France, truly every day of greater appearance."??In this story of Roland as I propose telling it, I shall intro-duce you to some of the most pleasing of those "tales of France" The poems and legends which embody them were written in various languages, and at widely different times; but in them two names, Charlemagne and Roland are of very frequent occurrence. Charlemagne, as you know, was a real historical personage, the greatest monarch of medieval times. His empire included France, the greater part of Germany and Italy; and his power and influence were felt all over the Christian world. The fame of his achievements in war was heralded and sung in every country of Europe; his name was in the mouth of every story-teller and wandering bard; and it finally became customary to ascribe all the heroic deeds and wonderful events of three centuries to the time of Charlemagne. ??The songs and stories in which these events were related were dressed up with every kind of embellishment to suit the circumstances of their recital. Wild myths of the Pagan ages, legends and traditions of the Christian Church, superstitious notions of magic and witchcraft, fantastic stories derived from the Arabs of Spain and the East,—all these were blended in one strange mass, and grafted upon a slender core of historical truth. The result was a curious mixture of fact and fiction, of the real and the marvellous, of the beautiful and the impure, of Christian devotion and heathen superstition. And it was thus that "the tales of France", which we may term the legendary history of Charlemagne, came into being ..

WHO says that English folk have no fairy tales of their own The present volume contains only a selection out of some 140, of which I have found traces in this country. It is probable that many more exist. A quarter of the tales in this volume have been collected during the last ten years or so, and some of them have not been hitherto published. Up to 1870, it was said equally of France and of Italy, that they possessed no folk-tales. Yet, within fifteen years from that date, over 1000 tales had been collected in each country. I am hoping that the present volume may lead to equal activity in this country, and would earnestly beg any reader of this book who knows of similar tales, to communicate them, written down as they are told, to me, care of the Publishers. The only reason, I imagine, why such tales have not hitherto been brought to light, is the lamentable gap between the governing and recording classes and the dumb working classes of this country--dumb to others but eloquent among themselves. It would be no unpatriotic task to help to bridge over this gulf, by giving a common fund of nursery literature to all classes of the English people, and, in any case, it can do no harm to add to the innocent gaiety of the nation. English Fairy Tales:- ST. GEORGE OF MERRIE ENGLAND- THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS- TOM-TIT-TOT- THE GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX- TATTERCOATS- THE THREE FEATHERS- LAZY JACK- JACK THE GIANT-KILLER- THE THREE SILLIES- THE GOLDEN BALL- THE TWO SISTERS- THE LAIDLY WORM- TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE- JACK AND THE BEANSTALK- THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY- CATSKIN- THE THREE LITTLE PIGS- NIX NAUGHT NOTHING- MR. AND MRS. VINEGAR- THE TRUE HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS THUMB- HENNY-PENNY- THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL- MR. FOX- DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT- THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG- THE WEE BANNOCK- HOW JACK WENT OUT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE- THE BOGEY-BEAST- LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD- CHILDE ROWLAND- THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM OF BUYING OF -- SHEEPOF HEDGING A CUCKOOOF SENDING CHEESESOF DROWNING EELSOF SENDING RENTOF COUNTING- CAPORUSHES- THE BABES IN THE WOOD- THE RED ETTIN- THE FISH AND THE RING- LAWKAMERCYME- MASTER OF ALL MASTERS- MOLLY WHUPPIE AND THE DOUBLE-FACED GIANT- THE ASS, THE TABLE, AND THE STICK- THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END- THE ROSE TREE

Ger?ekten de, ben ?uyum demek ?ok zor, benim i?in! Hep yolday?m i?te… Hem ??renciyim, hem ??retmen! Ya? atm?? be?… Yapt???m bu i?i a?kla yap?yorum… Payla?may? seviyorum… Bu yapt???m?, sanat ve ilim olarak g?rüyorum… Her ?eyden ?nce, ruhumu doyuruyor yazmak… ?Gen?lik y?llar?mda dolu dizgin bir ya?am?n ard?ndan, belli bir doygunlu?a ula?man?n ard?ndan insan, ya?amdaki; “Adam olman?n!” fark?ndal???n? iyi g?rüyor… ?Ancak bizler kafam?z? duvarlara vurarak hayat? ??rendik! ?anss?z bir nesildik biz… Bilgi bizden ?ok uzakt?, o zamanlar… Nerde oturaca??m?z? ve kalkaca??m?z? dahi bilemiyorduk… ??kinci Dünya Harbi yeni bitmi?, ?ileli y?llar o y?llar… ?Ama bir ger?ek var ki, “Yokluk” varl???n de?erini ortaya ??kar?yor. Bunlar? yak?ndan g?rdük biz... Bizimkisi kadim bir bilgelik olmasa da, gen?ler gelece?e sa?lam baks?nlar diye bu kitab? yazmak zorunda hissettim kendimi! Hakikat birdir ancak ve bunu do?ru yola koymak gerekir. Gelecek nesil, hayattan ve ya?amdan korkmas?n istedim! Korkmak korkanad?r… ?Gen?lerin derdine derman olup biraz olsun hakikatlerine inmek istedim. Zaten duygu dolu hat?ralar?n canl? kitapl??? ile her zaman gen?lerin hizmetindedir bu fakir... ??stiyorum ki, onlar, dünyan?n derinliklerinde kaybolmas?nlar ve hakikati g?rüp güzel ?eyler ya?as?nlar. Aldat?lmas?nlar ve yan?lt?lmas?nlar yeter ki! Bat? destekli g?rünen dünyadaki b?lünmü?lük i?inde siyasi gelece?i olmayan Ortado?u ülkeleri gibi olmayal?m! Erken gelen yalanc? bahara kan?p, ?i?ek a?an, sonra da donup telef olan o zavall?lara d?nmeyelim! Arap bahar?n? hep birlikte g?rdük i?te… ?Zulüm edenlere, ??kar pe?inde silah tutanlara kar?? koymay? bilirsek, ne ?ok s?rl? güzellikler a???a ??kmakt?r! Ah bir bilseniz? Siz gen?ler, güzel ad?mlar at?n yeter… ?Yüzle?in ger?eklerle... ? ? Yazar Hakk?nda ?Halit Fuat Be?ik : 1952 y?l?nda Fatsa'da do?du. ?lk ve orta ??renimini Fatsa'da, üniversite ??renimini ise ?stanbul'da tamamlad?. Kapal? ?ar??da ticaret hayat?na at?ld?. Bu arada dünyan?n pek ?ok ülkesini gezme f?rsat? buldu. ?nceleri rezaletten ka?mayan ve "Hep ben" mant???yla maceral? bir hayat ya?ad?. Okumay? ve not almay? ?ok sevdi?i i?in pek ?ok kitap ve notlara sahiptir. Yazmak konusuna otuz y?ll?k bir emek vermesine ra?men, bu konuda daha pek ?ok ?ey yapmas? gerekti?ine inan?yor. 2003 y?l?nda "Talan Mevsiminde?Adam gibi ya?amak.” 2010 y?l?nda, ”Sokrates’in ?syan?., Ha?l?lar ?anakkale’de, Yüz Elli Ya??ndaki Adam, Tevrat’?n ?ocuklar? ve Kur-an” adl? kitaplar? yay?nlanm??t?r. ?nan?, Adalet, ?nsan sevgisi ve Kur-an ahlak?na dayal? o muhte?em denge i?inde eserler vermeye ?al???yor.??u anda sizler i?in de?i?ik konularda pek ?ok kitaplar daha haz?rlamaktad?r. Ger?ek eserlerini bundan sonra size sunaca??na inan?yor...

This Book, is a collection of short stories about Russia. Book contains many collections of short stories by the popular and influential Russian author, a founder of the socialist realism literary method and arguably the greatest Russian literary figure of the 20th century. Maxim Gorky also wrote about stories, plays, memoirs and novels which touched the imagination of the Russian people, and was the first Russian author to write sympathetically of such characters as tramps and thieves, emphasizing their daily struggles against overwhelming odds..Some Other Books Maxim Gorky: Mother (1907) Creatures That Once Were Men (1918) Twenty-six and One and Other Stories (1902) The Man Who Was Afraid (1901)

At nine o'clock on the morning of the first of May, 1919, a young man spoke to the room clerk at the Bilt-more Hotel, asking if Mr. Philip Dean were registered there, and if so, could he be connected with Mr. Dean's rooms. The inquirer was dressed in a well-cut, shabby suit. He was small, slender, and darkly handsome; his eyes were framed above with unusually long eyelashes and below with the blue semicircle of ill health, this latter effect heightened by an unnatural glow which colored his face like a low, incessant fever. Mr. Dean was staying there. The young man was directed to a telephone at the side. After a second his connection was made; a sleepy voice hello'd from somewhere above.

In 1915 Horace Tarbox was thirteen years old. In that year he took the examinations for entrance to Prince-ton University and received the Grade A—excellent—in C?sar, Cicero, Vergil, Xenophon, Homer, Algebra, Plane Geometry, Solid Geometry, and Chemistry.??Two years later while George M. Cohan was composing "Over There," Horace was leading the sophomore class by several lengths and digging out theses on "The Syllogism as an Obsolete Scholastic Form," and during the battle of Ch?teau-Thierry he was sitting at his desk deciding whether or not to wait until his seventeenth birthday before beginning his series of essays on "The Pragmatic Bias of the New Realists."??After a while some newsboy told him that the war was over, and he was glad, because it meant that Peat Brothers, publishers, would get out their new edition of "Spinoza's Improvement of the Understanding." Wars were all very well in their way, made young men self-reliant or something but Horace felt that he could never forgive the President for allowing a brass band to play under his window the night of the false armistice, causing him to leave three important sentences out of his thesis on "German Idealism."

ONCE upon a time, a long while ago—in fact long before Egypt had risen to power and before Rome or Greece had ever been heard of—and that was some time before you were born, you know—there was a king who reigned over a very large and powerful kingdom. Now this king was rather old, he had founded his kingdom himself, and he had reigned over it nine hundred and ninety-nine and a half years already. As I have said before, it was a very large kingdom, for it contained, among other things, the whole of the western half of the world. The rest of the world was divided into smaller kingdoms, and each kingdom was ruled over by separate princes, who, however, were none of them so old as Intafernes, as he was called.

'The Phoenix on the Sword' is a story in the Conan series where he foils a plot to overthrow him as King of Aquilonia. Robert Ervin Howard was born in Peaster, Texas in 1906. During his youth, his family moved between a variety of Texan boomtowns, and Howard – a bookish and somewhat introverted child – was steeped in the violent myths and legends of the Old South. At fifteen Howard began to read the pulp magazines of the day, and to write more seriously. The December 1922 issue of his high school newspaper featured two of his stories, 'Golden Hope Christmas' and 'West is West'. In 1924 he sold his first piece – a short caveman tale titled 'Spear and Fang' – for $16 to the not-yet-famous Weird Tales magazine. Howard's most famous character, Conan the Cimmerian, was a barbarian-turned-King during the Hyborian Age, a mythical period of some 12,000 years ago. Conan featured in seventeen Weird Tales stories between 1933 and 1936 which is why Howard is now regarded as having spawned the 'sword and sorcery' genre. The Conan stories have since been adapted many times, most famously in the series of films starring Arnold Schwarzenegger.Other Books of Howard:The Hour of the Dragon (1936)The Hyborian Age (1930)People of the Dark (1932)Gods of the North (1934)Beyond the Black River (1935)A Witch Shall be Born (1934)The Scarlet Citadel (1933)Black Colossus (1933)Queen of the Black Coast (1934)Jewels of Gwahlur (1935)

THE oceans are big and broad. I believe two-thirds of the earth's surface is covered with water. What people inhabit this water has always been a subject of curiosity to the inhabitants of the land. Strange creatures come from the seas at times, and perhaps in the ocean depths are many, more strange than mortal eye has ever gazed upon. This story is fanciful. In it the sea people talk and act much as we do, and the mermaids especially are not unlike the fairies with whom we have learned to be familiar. Yet they are real sea people, for all that, and with the exception of Zog the Magician they are all supposed to exist in the ocean's depths. I am told that some very learned people deny that mermaids or sea-serpents have ever inhabited the oceans, but it would be very difficult for them to prove such an assertion unless they had lived under the water as Trot and Cap'n Bill did in this story. 1—Trot and Cap'n Bill2—The Mermaids3—The Depths of the Deep Blue Sea4—The Palace of Queen Aquareine5—The Sea Serpent6—Exploring the Ocean7—The Aristocratic Codfish8—A Banquet Under Water9—The Bashful Octopus10—An Undiscovered Island11—Zog the Terrible, and His Sea Devils12—The Enchanted Castle13—Prisoners of the Sea Monster14—Cap'n Joe and Cap'n Bill15—The Magic of the Mermaids16—The Top of the Great Dome17—The Queen's Golden Sword18—A Dash for Liberty19—King Anko to the Rescue20—The Home of the Ocean Monarch21—King Joe22—Trot Lives to Tell the Tale ? About Author: Lyman Frank Baum (May 15, 1856 – May 6, 1919), better known by his pen name L. Frank Baum, was an American author chiefly known for his children's books, particularly The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. He wrote thirteen novel sequels, nine other fantasy novels, and a host of other works (55 novels in total, plus four "lost works", 83 short stories, over 200 poems, an unknown number of scripts, and many miscellaneous writings), and made nu-merous attempts to bring his works to the stage and screen. His works anticipated such century-later commonplaces as television, augmented reality, laptop computers (The Master Key), wireless telephones (Tik-Tok of Oz), women in high risk, action-heavy occupations (Mary Louise in the Country), and the ubiquity of advertising on clothing (Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work). * * *

Baby Mitchell was an August squirrel. That is, he was born in the month of August. His pretty gray mother found a nice hole, high up in the crotch of a tall chestnut tree, for her babies' nest; and I know she lined it with soft fur plucked from her own loving little breast,—for that is the way the squirrel mothers do. This chestnut tree grew on the side of a steep mountain,—none other than Mount Mitchell, the highest mountain peak in all the eastern half of the United States. It is in North Carolina, where there are a great many beautiful mountains, but none of them more beautiful than Mount Mitchell, with the great forest trees on its slopes. One of these forest trees was the big chestnut where Baby Mitchell was born. In the warm and lovely summer he lay safe in his snug nest twenty feet above the ground. There was a small log-cabin at the foot of the mountain, and here lived a father and mother and a very large family of very small children. There was no other house near; and the father had to go a great many miles through the woods to his work in a saw-mill that some one had set up in the mountains. “A squirrel’s nest, in a nice hole, high up in the crotch of a tall chestnut tree.” And the children had to go such a long way to school, over little rivers that they crossed on narrow foot-logs; and through deep shady woods, where the sun could scarcely send a ray down through the tops of the tall trees; and under tangled rhododendron bushes that were often like little trees they were so large, and in the summer time were covered with masses of splendid white flowers. ? ? ABOUT AUTHOR: Margaret Warner Morley was an American educator, biologist, and author of many children's books on nature and biology.

SOME of the caddies were poor as sin and lived in one-room houses with a neurasthenic cow in the front yard, but Dexter Green's father owned the second best grocery-store in Black Bear—the best one was "The Hub," patronized by the wealthy people from Sherry Island—and Dexter caddied on-ly for pocket-money. IN the fall when the days became crisp and gray, and the long Minnesota winter shut down like the white lid of a box, Dexter's skis moved over the snow that hid the fairways of the golf course. At these times the country gave him a feeling of profound melancholy—it offended him that the links should lie in enforced fallowness, haunted by ragged sparrows for the long season. It was dreary, too, that on the tees where the gay colors fluttered in summer there were now only the desolate sand-boxes knee-deep in crusted ice. When he crossed the hills the wind blew cold as misery, and if the sun was out he tramped with his eyes squinted up against the hard dimensionless glare. IN April the winter ceased abruptly. The snow ran down into Black Bear Lake scarcely tarrying for the early golfers to brave the season with red and black balls. Without elation, without an interval of moist glory, the cold was gone. About Author: Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (1896 – 1940) was an American Jazz Age author of novels and short stories. He is regarded as one of the greatest twentieth century writers. Fitzgerald was of the self-styled "Lost Gen-eration," Americans born in the 1890s who came of age during World War I. He finished four novels, left a fifth unfinished, and wrote dozens of short stories that treat themes of youth, despair, and age. Other Books of Fitzgerald:The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (1922)The Great Gatsby (1925)Tender is the Night (1933)The Beautiful and the Damned (1922)This Side of Paradise (1920)"I Didn't Get Over" (1936)The Rich Boy (1926)Jacob's Ladder (1927)The Sensible Thing (1924) ***

Trees filtering light onto dapple grass. Trees like tall, languid ladies with feather fans coquetting airily with the ugly roof of the monastery. Trees like butlers, bending courteously over placid walks and paths. Trees, trees over the hills on either side and scattering out in clumps and lines and woods all through eastern Maryland, delicate lace on the hems of many yellow fields, dark opaque backgrounds for flowered bushes or wild climbing garden. Some of the trees were very gay and young, but the monastery trees were older than the monastery which, by true monastic standards, wasn't very old at all. And, as a matter of fact, it wasn't technically called a monastery, but only a seminary; nevertheless it shall be a monastery here despite its Victorian architecture or its Edward VII additions, or even its Woodrow Wilsonian, patented, last-a-century roofing. Out behind was the farm where half a dozen lay brothers were sweating lustily as they moved with deadly efficiency around the vegetable-gardens. To the left, behind a row of elms, was an informal baseball diamond where three novices were being batted out by a fourth, amid great chasings and puffings and blowings. And in front as a great mellow bell boomed the half-hour a swarm of black, human leaves were blown over the checker-board of paths under the courteous trees.Some of these black leaves were very old with cheeks furrowed like the first ripples of a splashed pool. Then there was a scattering of middle-aged leaves whose forms when viewed in profile in their revealing gowns were beginning to be faintly unsymmetrical. These carried thick volumes of Thomas Aquinas and Henry James and Cardinal Mercier and Immanuel Kant and many bulging note-books filled with lecture data.

Once, there was a Prince who wanted to marry a Princess. Only a real one would do. So he traveled through all the world to find her, and everywhere things went wrong. There were Princesses aplenty, but how was he to know whether they were real Princesses? There was something not quite right about them all. So he came home again and was unhappy, because he did so want to have a real Princess.

SINCE the publication of my larger book, "The Horse Fair," many letters have been received from teachers and their scholars telling of the pleasure derived from the reading of it, and incidentally suggesting that much of its contents is directly in line with the courses of literary instruction pursued in our elementary schools. This suggestion has led me to col-lect certain of the stories into a smaller volume especially adapted for use as a school reading-book.? The eighteen stories in this volume have been chosen with a thought to their educative value as well as for the intrinsic charm of the original narratives, which in various forms have delighted many generations of readers. All have a literary interest connecting them with subjects with which every educated person is supposed to be familiar. In the first four, you will be introduced to the sun myths and season myths of the Greeks and of our Norse ancestors. Following these, the tale of song-inspiring Pegasus is presented in contrast with that of Griffen, the base imitation invented by the romancing poets of the Middle Ages. ? Then in "The Ship of the Plains," you may read of the mythical founding of Athens; and in the sketch that follows, you may enjoy a brief glimpse of Arabic imagery in the story of one of the most interesting episodes in the life of the prophet Mohammed. The story of the twin brethren will acquaint you with the thought of some of the old Latin writers, while the tale of Rakush will give you a taste of Persian literature as it is found in the great epic written by Firdusi. The romances of Charlemagne and his peers are represented by the story of Broiefort and his indomitable master; and the world-famous Don Quixote is introduced by his sorry but scarcely less famous steed, Rozinante.