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Dirty Work for Doughgod
by W. C. TuttleMuley Bowles is a self-made poet. Something inside that two-hundred-and-forty-pound carcass seems to move him to rime, and nothing can stop him. He’s so heavy in a saddle that all of his broncs are bowed in the legs and run their shoes over awful.Telescope Tolliver came from down in the moonshine belt, and he’s got some strange and awful ideas of w..
The Junior Trophy
by Ralph Henry BarbourThe train from the west that bore Bert Bryant to New York was two hours late, for all the way from Clinton, Ohio, where Bert lived, the snow had been from four inches to a foot in depth. Consequently he had missed the one o’clock train for Mt. Pleasant and had spent an hour with his face glued to a waiting-room window watching the bustle and confus..
The Tale of Genji
by Murasaki ShikibuReaders of the Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan, translated by Madame Omori and Professor Doi, will remember that the second of the three diaries is that of a certain Murasaki Shikibu. The little that is known of this lady’s life has been set forth by Miss Amy Lowell in her Introduction to that book. A few dates, most of them very insecure, wil..
Nat, The Trapper and Indian-Fighter
by Paul J. PrescottToward noon of a pleasant June day, 18—, a man, mounted on a powerful animal of the mustang breed, was riding slowly over the plain, some distance south-east of the great South Pass. His appearance was striking. In hight he was rather more than six feet, his legs and arms being long and lank in the extreme. His eyes were small, gray and piercing, a..
The Border Riflemen
by Lewis W. CarsonThe sun was going down behind the western hills in a flood of yellow light, and a river dimpled on under the slanting rays, great fish leaping now and then from the placid surface, and the trees along the bank casting fantastic shadows into its depths. In a sheltered nook, near a spot where a little creek joined the river, a settler had built a cab..
Death in Venice
by Thomas MannIt was the beginning of May, and after cold, damp weeks a false midsummer had set in. The English Gardens, although the foliage was still fresh and sparse, were as pungent as in August, and in the parts nearer the city had been full of conveyances and promenaders. At the Aumeister, which he had reached by quieter and quieter paths, Aschenbach had s..
The Vault
by Murray LeinsterThe window slid up easily–too easily–and Mike waited a long time, listening, before he made a move. The whole huge pile of the factory was still. There were no lights anywhere, except that dim one by the gate through the stockade. Lying quite still in the darkness, Mike waited. There was no sound, no ringing of alarm bells, no bustle of activity an..
A Man in the Zoo
by David GarnettJOHN CROMARTIE and Josephine Lackett gave up their green tickets at the turnstile, and entered the Zoological Society’s Gardens by the South Gate.It was a warm day at the end of February, and Sunday morning. In the air there was a smell of spring, mixed with the odours of different animals—yaks, wolves, and musk-oxen, but the two visitors did not n..