OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ainsworth, William

Edition of 1879. See also William Francis Ainsworth and William Harrison Ainsworth on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINSWORTH. I. William Francis, an English traveller, geologist, and physician, born in Exeter, Nov. 9, 1807. After having studied medicine at Edinburgh, he made geological excursions into Auvergne and the Pyrenees. In 1828 he took charge of the Edinburgh "Journal of Natural and Geographical Science," and delivered lectures on geology. He was attached to a cholera hospital in London in 1832, and afterward to various hospitals in Ireland. In 1835 he was appointed surgeon and geologist to Col. Chesney's expedition to explore the Euphrates and the route from that river to the Mediterranean, and in 1838 he was sent with Rassam and Theodore Russell, by the geological and Bible societies of London, to trace the course of the river Kizil-Irmak (the ancient Halys), and to visit the Nestorian Christians of Kurdistan. He has published "Researches in Assyria, Babylonia, and Chaldea" (1838); "Travels and Researches in Asia Minor, Mesopotamia, Chaldea, and Armenia" (2 vols., 1842); "The Claims of the Christian Aborigines in the East"; "Travels in the Track of the 10,000 Greeks" (1844); the "Illustrated Universal Gazetteer" (1861-'3), &c. II. William Harrison, an English novelist, cousin of the preceding, born in Manchester, Feb. 4, 1805. His father was an attorney, and he was intended for the law, but from an early age he exhibited a strong taste for literature. A novel, "Sir John Cheverton," which he produced in 1825, was shown to Sir Walter Scott, whose praises encouraged Ainsworth to pursue the course he had thus commenced. In 1834 his "Rookwood" appeared, founded on the adventures of the noted highwayman Dick Turpin; and the popularity of this novel induced him to bring out "Jack Sheppard." The robber school of romance having fixed Mr. Ainsworth's celebrity, he turned to a more wholesome style of literature, and produced various novels of local interest, in which historical characters are introduced and very freely dealt with. Such are his "Tower of London," "Guy Fawkes," "Old St. Paul's," "Windsor Castle," "The Constable of the Tower," and "Cardinal Pole." In 1845 he became proprietor of Colburn's "New Monthly," which he still conducts (1872); and for a few years he also edited a second periodical called "Ainsworth's Magazine." His most recent novels are "The Miser's Daughter" (1869), "Hilary St. Ives"(1870), and "Boscobel, or the Royal Oak "(1872).
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ainsworth, Robert

Edition of 1879. See also Robert Ainsworth (lexicographer) on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINSWORTH, Robert, an English teacher and scholar, born in Lancashire in September, 1660, died in London, April 4, 1743. He taught private schools in and near London, and early retired with a competency. His only claim to remembrance is his English-Latin and Latin-English dictionary, commenced in 1714 and first published in 1736. It was edited and reprinted many times, in 2 vols. 4to or folio; and abridgments of it were used in nearly all English and American schools till near the middle of the present century, when it was generally superseded by more accurate works.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Aintab

Edition of 1879. See also Gaziantep on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINTAB (according to some, the ancient Antiochia ad Taurum), a city of Asiatic Turkey, in the vilayet of Aleppo, and about 70 m. N. by E. from Aleppo; pop. estimated at from 35,000 to 43,000, including 12,000 Armenians. It has large manufactures of silk, leather, and cotton goods, and the mountain fort which is connected with it makes it an important military point. Aintab is one of the centres of the American Protestant missions, and in 1869 had 1,900 registered Protestants. It was conquered in 1183 by Saladin, and in 1400 by Timour. Near Aintab is the village of Nizib, where Ibrahim Pasha on June 24, 1839, obtained a great victory over the Turks under Hafiz Pasha.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Air

Edition of 1879. See also Atmosphere of Earth on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AIR (Gr. ἀήρ, Lat. aer), a term now limited to the atmospheric air. See Atmosphere.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Al

Edition of 1879. See also Al- on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
AL, il, or ul (improperly pronounced by those of other nations el), the Arabic definite article, and indeed the only article in use in the Arabic language, words indefinitely used standing alone, as yad, a hand, al or il yad, the hand. When this article stands before a lingual or dental (of which there are in Arabic 13, called shamsi), the sound of the letter l (lam) is dropped for the sake of euphony, and the initial dental or lingual takes a double sound; thus, il shams, the sun, is pronounced ish shams. When the word preceding the article ends in a long vowel, a wasla (marked thus ~) is placed over the a (alif), indicating that it is to be dropped in pronunciation, and the l joined to the vowel sound. Thus, Abu il Feda is pronounced Abulfeda.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ain-Madhi

Edition of 1879. See also Aïn Madhi on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AIN-MADHI, a walled town and oasis of the Algerian desert, about 200 m. S. S. W. of Algiers; pop. about 2,000. The town is built on a rocky eminence amid gardens, surrounded by an arid plain. It is a station for caravans, and possesses a considerable trade. It was the seat of an independent Arab chief till 1852.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ainmüller, Maximilian Emanuel

Edition of 1879. See also Max Emanuel Ainmiller on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINMÜLLER, Maximilian Emanuel, a German artist, founder of the modern school of glass painting, born in Munich, Feb. 14, 1807, died there, Dec. 8, 1870. His talent as a decorative and monumental architect aided him essentially in the glass paintings which, under the patronage of King Louis I. of Bavaria, he executed or restored for many of the religious buildings of Europe. He was also employed at Westminster abbey, St. George's chapel, Windsor, and St. Peter's college, Cambridge; and at the instance of Mr. Beresford Hope he executed 14 paintings for a cathedral in Ireland. Among his master works are the painted windows in the cathedral of Cologne, and those in the Vatican representing St. Peter and St. Paul. The most remarkable of his works, by their stupendous size, are in the cathedral of Glasgow. With the assistance of his surviving son and pupil, Heinrich (born 1836), he had completed up to 1864 40 windows with upward of 100 biblical and historical paintings. He was royal inspector of the academy of glass painting at Munich. He also excelled as an architectural painter in oil, and there are many of his works in the art galleries of St. Petersburg, Munich, Vienna, and other parts of Europe.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ainos, or Ainns

Edition of 1879. See also Ainu people on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINOS, or Ainns (i. e., men), tribes inhabiting Saghalien, Yesso, and the Kurile islands, and various adjacent regions, partly under Japanese and partly under Russian jurisdiction, the latter being generally called Kuriles. Tradition says that the Japanese were originally Ainos, and only became a distinct race by intermarrying with Chinese. The Ainos are different from other Mongolian tribes, and in their more vigorous physical formation assimilate to some extent to the Caucasian type. Though armed and painted like savages, they are inoffensive and hospitable, but shy of Japanese and Russians, especially on the coasts of the Saghalien islands, which they formerly occupied ​exclusively, and where the Gilanes tribe at present inhabit the N. part. The men are stout, short, with very hairy bodies, and allow the hair of the head and beard to grow to full length, which has caused them to be designated as the hairy Ainos. They are pagans, and sacrifice the first of the animals they kill, generally bears, to their idols. They are polygamists, groups of 10 to 12 families living together in miserable huts, with a chief for each group. They support themselves by fishing and hunting. The Aino language is divided into several dialects, and is regarded by Siebold as somewhat connected with the Japanese, but this opinion is not generally entertained. It is polysyllabic, has an alphabet of 47 letters, and is written in four different sets of characters, one of them, the Katakana, being sometimes called the writing of men, and another, the Hiragana, that of women. August Pfizmaier published a description of it (Vienna, 1852), and a vocabulary (1854).
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Ainsworth, Henry

Edition of 1879. See also Henry Ainsworth on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
​AINSWORTH, Henry, an English nonconformist divine, the date and place of whose birth are unknown, died in Amsterdam in 1622. In 1590 he attached himself to the Brownist sect, and was afterward compelled by persecution to fly to Holland, where, in connection with a Mr. Johnson, he established a church at Amsterdam. He was a good Hebrew scholar, and published annotations on the Psalms and Pentateuch, together with a literal translation of the latter, a translation of Solomon's Song, and other works of a somewhat similar character.
# The Cinema Murder/Book 2

BOOK II
* Chapter I, 87
* Chapter II, 97
* Chapter III, 107
* Chapter IV, 115
* Chapter V, 122
# The Cheerful Giver

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Printed in Schenck, William Edward. Children in heaven: or, the infant dead redeemed by the blood of Jesus. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1865. Page 85-86.
"WHAT shall I render Thee! Father Supreme,
For thy rich gifts, and this the best of all?"
Said a young mother, as she fondly watched
 Her sleeping babe.
 There was an answering voice
 That night in dreams.
 "Thou hast a little bud
Wrapt in thy breast, and fed with dews
Of love; give me that bud,'twill be
A flower in heaven."
But there was silence, yea, a hush so deep,
Breathless and terror-stricken,
 That the lip
Blanched in its trance-
 "Thou hast a little harp
 How sweetly would it swell the
 Angels' songs! Give me that harp."
There burst a shuddering sob
As if the bosom, by some hidden sword,
Was cleft in twain.
Morn came, a blight had found
The crimson velvet of the unfolding bud;
The harp-string rang a thrilling strain,
And broke,
 And that young mother lay upon
The earth in childless agony.
 Again the voice-
 That stirred her vision
 "He who asked of thee
Loveth a cheerful giver."
 So she raised
Her gushing eye, and ere the tear-drop
Dried upon its fringes, smiled-  Doubt not that smile,
Like Abraham's faith,
 "Was counted righteousness."
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The American Language/Appendix 3

[Mr. Lardner also very kindly wrote the following for the present work. A ham, of course, means a fifth-rate actor. The scene is the sidewalk in front of the Lambs Club. The two hams, meeting, stop for a chat.]
FIRST HAM—Have you seen Craven?
SECOND HAM—Yes, I was in Thursday.
FIRST HAM—Its a great troupe.
SECOND HAM—I give him the notion. I says to him last summer, I says, Frank, I got a great notion for you. He says, What is it, Charley? So then I give him the notion.
FIRST HAM—Its a great troupe. I enjoyed every minute, if you know what I mean.
SECOND HAM—I give him the notion.
FIRST HAM—Hes wrote himself a great part, if you know what I mean.
SECOND HAM—I give him the notion.
FIRST HAM—Hes a duke in that kind of a part.
SECOND HAM—Howd you like the gal?
FIRST HAM—Just fair, if you know what I mean. But Whats his-name was lousy the day I was in, if you know what I mean.
SECOND HAM—I dont think they cast it very good.
FIRST HAM—No, and when you come right down to it, theys nothin to the troupe, only the notion.
SECOND HAM—I give him the notion.
FIRST HAM—Itd be a flop without Craven.
SECOND HAM—Thats the way I figured when I had the notion, and I tol Craven, I says, Frank, I got a notion thatd make a play for you, but itd be a flop for anybody else.
FIRST HAM—Theys really nothin to it but hoakum, if you know what I mean. But they eat it up.
SECOND HAM—Too bad they aint got a bigger theater.
FIRST HAM—You cant tell. It might flop in a bigger house. Its just a little every-day family troupe, if you know what I mean. Nothin to it but Craven and the notion.
SECOND HAM—I give him the notion.

## Notes

* ↑ Troupe here means the entire production.
# The American Language/Appendix 4

[The following Élégie Américaine, by John V. A. Weaver, of Chicago, marks the first appearance of the American vulgate, I believe, in serious verse. It has been attempted often enough by comic poets, though seldom with the accuracy shown by Mr. Lardner's prose. But it was Mr. Weaver who first directed attention to the obvious fact that the American proletarian is not comic to himself but quite serious, and that he carries on his most lofty and sentimental thoughts in the same tongue he uses in discussing baseball.]
    I wished I&#146;d took the ring, not the Victrola.
    You get so tired of records, hearin&#146; an&#146; hearin&#146; &#146;em,
    And when a person don&#146;t have much to spend
    They feel they shouldn&#146;t ought to be so wasteful.
    And then these warm nights makes it slow inside,
    And sittin&#146;s lovely down there by the lake
    Where him and me would always use ta go.
    He thought the Vic&#146;d make it easier
    Without him; and it did at first. I&#146;d play
    Some jazz-band music and I&#146;d almost feel
    His arms around me, dancin&#146;; after that
    I&#146;d turn out all the lights, and set there quiet
    Whiles Alma Gluck was singin&#146; &#147;Home, Sweet Home&#148;,
    And almost know his hand was strokin&#146; my hand.
    &#147;If I was you, I&#146;d take the Vic,&#148; he says,
    &#147;It&#146;s somethin&#146; you can use; you can&#146;t a ring.
    Wisht I had ways ta make a record for you,
    So&#146;s I could be right with you, even though
    Uncle Sam had me&#148;&#133; Now I&#146;m glad he didn&#146;t;
    It would be lots too much like seein&#146; ghosts
    Now that I&#146;m sure he never won&#146;t come back&#133;.
    Oh, God! I don&#146;t see how I ever stand it!
    He was so big and strong! He was a darb!
    The swellest dresser, with them nifty shirts
    That fold down, and them lovely nobby shoes,
    And always all his clothes would be one color,
    Like green socks with green ties, and a green hat,
    And everything&#133;. We never had no words
    Or hardly none&#133;.
    And now to think that mouth
    I useta kiss is bitin&#146; into dirt,
    And through them curls I useta smooth a bullet
    Has went&#133;.
    I wisht it would of killed me, too&#133;.
    Oh, well&#133; about the Vic&#133;. I guess I&#146;ll sell it
    And get a small ring anyways. (I won&#146;t
    Get but half as good a one as if
    He spent it all on that when he first ast me.)
    It don&#146;t seem right to play jazz tunes no more
    With him gone. And it ain&#146;t a likely chanst
    I&#146;d find nobody ever else again
    Would suit me, or I&#146;d suit. And so a little
    Quarter of a carat, maybe, but a real one
    That could sparkle, sometimes, and remember
    The home I should of had.&#133;
    And still, you know,
    The Vic was his idear, and so&#133;
    I wonder&#133;.

## Notes

* ↑ From In American; New York, 1921.
# The American Language/Bibliography 10

Brown, Rollo Walter: A Word-List From Western Indiana, Dialect Notes, vol. iii, p. 570.
Carruth, W. H.: Dialect Word List (of Kansas), Kansas University Quarterly, vol. i, p. 95 and p. 133; vol. vi, p. 51 and p. 85.
G. D. C.: Russian Words in Kansas, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 161.
Hanley, O. W.: Dialect Words From Southern Indiana, Dialect Notes, vol. ii, p. 173.
Hart, J. M. (and others): Notes from Cincinnati, Dialect Notes, vol. i, p. 60.
Kenyon, John S.: Western Reserve Word-List, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 386.
Parry, W. H.: Dialect Peculiarities in Southeastern Ohio, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 339.
Pound, Loūise: A Second Word-List From Nebraska, Dialect Notes, vol. iii, p. 541; vol. iv, p. 271.
——: Dialect Speech in Nebraska, Dialect Notes, vol. iii, p. 55.
Rice, William O.: The Pioneer Dialect of Southern Illinois, Dialect Notes, vol. ii, p. 225.
Ruppenthal, J. C.: A Word-List From Kansas, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 101 and p. 319.
Weeks, R. L.: Notes From Missouri, Dialect Notes, vol. i, p. 235.
# The American Language/Bibliography 11

Bruner, Helen (and Frances Francis): A Short Word-List From Wyoming, Dialect Notes, vol. iii, p. 550.
Chapin, Florence A.: Spanish Words That Have Become Westernisms, Editor, July 25, 1917.
Garrett, R. M.: A Word-List From the Northwest, Dialect Notes, vol. v, p. 54 and p. 80.
Harvey, Bartlett: A Word-List From the Northwest, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 26 and p. 162.
Hayden, Marie Gladys: A Word-List From Montana, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 243.
Lehman, Benjamin H.: A Word-List From the Northwestern United States, Dialect Notes, vol. v, p. 22.
McLean, John: Western Americanisms (in The Indians: Their Manners and Customs; Toronto, 1889).
Man, A. P., Jr.: Arizona Word-List, Dialect Notes, vol. iv, p. 164.
# The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier/The Angel of Patience

THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE
A FREE PARAPHRASE OF THE GERMAN
To weary hearts, to mourning homes, God’s meekest Angel gently comes: No power has he to banish pain, Or give us back our lost again; And yet in tenderest love, our dear And Heavenly Father sends him here.
There ’s quiet in that Angel’s glance, There ’s rest in his still countenance! He mocks no grief with idle cheer, Nor wounds with words the mourner’s ear; But ills and woes he may not cure He kindly trains us to endure.
Angel of Patience! sent to calm Our feverish brows with cooling palm; To lay the storms of hope and fear, And reconcile life’s smile and tear; The throbs of wounded pride to still, And make our own our Father’s will!
O thou who mournest on thy way, With longings for the close of day; He walks with thee, that Angel kind, And gently whispers, "Be resigned: Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well!"
# The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier/St. Martin's Summer

ST. MARTIN’S SUMMER
This name in some parts of Europe is given to the season we call Indian Summer, in honor of the good St. Martin. The title of the poem was suggested by the fact that the day it refers to was the exact date of that set apart to the Saint, the 11th of November.
Though flowers have perished at the touch Of Frost, the early comer, I hail the season loved so much, The good St. Martin’s summer.
O gracious morn, with rose-red dawn, And thin moon curving o’er it! The old year’s darling, latest born, More loved than all before it!
How flamed the sunrise through the pines! How stretched the birchen shadows, Braiding in long, wind-wavered lines The westward sloping meadows!
The sweet day, opening as a flower Unfolds its petals tender, Renews for us at noontide’s hour The summer’s tempered splendor.
The birds are hushed; alone the wind, That through the woodland searches, The red-oak’s lingering leaves can find, And yellow plumes of larches.
But still the balsam-breathing pine Invites no thought of sorrow, No hint of loss from air like wine The earth’s content can borrow.
The summer and the winter here Midway a truce are holding, A soft, consenting atmosphere Their tents of peace enfolding.
The silent woods, the lonely hills, Rise solemn in their gladness; The quiet that the valley fills Is scarcely joy or sadness.
How strange! The autumn yesterday In winter’s grasp seemed dying; On whirling winds from skies of gray The early snow was flying.
And now, while over Nature’s mood There steals a soft relenting, I will not mar the present good, Forecasting or lamenting.
My autumn time and Nature’s hold A dreamy tryst together, And, both grown old, about us fold The golden-tissued weather.
I lean my heart against the day To feel its bland caressing; I will not let it pass away Before it leaves its blessing.
God’s angels come not as of old The Syrian shepherds knew them; In reddening dawns, in sunset gold, And warm noon lights I view them.
Nor need there is, in times like this When heaven to earth draws nearer, Of wing or song as witnesses To make their presence clearer.
O stream of life, whose swifter flow Is of the end forewarning, Methinks thy sundown afterglow Seems less of night than morning!
Old cares grow light; aside I lay The doubts and fears that troubled; The quiet of the happy day Within my soul is doubled.
That clouds must veil this fair sunshine Not less a joy I find it; Nor less yon warm horizon line That winter lurks behind it.
The mystery of the untried days I close my eyes from reading; His will be done whose darkest ways To light and life are leading!
Less drear the winter night shall be, If memory cheer and hearten Its heavy hours with thoughts of thee, Sweet summer of St. Martin!
# The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier/Sweet Fern

SWEET FERN
The subtle power in perfume found Nor priest nor sibyl vainly learned; On Grecian shrine or Aztec mound No censer idly burned.
That power the old-time worships knew, The Corybantes’ frenzied dance, The Pythian priestess swooning through The wonderland of trance.
And Nature holds, in wood and field, Her thousand sunlit censers still;
To spells of flower and shrub we yield Against or with our will.
I climbed a hill path strange and new With slow feet, pausing at each turn; A sudden waft of west wind blew The breath of the sweet fern.
That fragrance from my vision swept The alien landscape; in its stead, Up fairer hills of youth I stepped, As light of heart as tread.
I saw my boyhood’s lakelet shine Once more through rifts of woodland shade; I knew my river’s winding line By morning mist betrayed.
With me June’s freshness, lapsing brook, Murmurs of leaf and bee, the call Of birds, and one in voice and look In keeping with them all.
A fern beside the way we went She plucked, and, smiling, held it up, While from her hand the wild, sweet scent I drank as from a cup.
O potent witchery of smell! The dust-dry leaves to life return, And she who plucked them owns the spell And lifts her ghostly fern.
Or sense or spirit? Who shall say What touch the chord of memory thrills? It passed, and left the August day Ablaze on lonely hills.