OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Times/1900/Funeral/George Grove

Source: The Times, Friday, Jun 01, 1900; Issue 36157; pg. 6 — Court Circular
Layout 2The funeral of Sir George Grove took place yesterday at Ladywell Cemetery, near Lewisham. The first part of the service was held at St. Bartholomew's Church, Sydenham. Among those present were Sir Hubert Parry, Mr. C. Morley, M.P., Mr. Frank Pownall, Dr. Harper, Dr. Villiers Stanford, and other members of the Royal College of Music. Sir A. Mackenzie represented the Royal Academy of Music, and Mr. W. H. Cummings the Guildhall School of Music, and Mr. H. Gillman, Mr. W. Gardiner, and Mr. August Manns, the Crystal Palace. Sir Arthur Sullivan and Sir Herbert Oakeley were unavoidably prevented from being present. Among others present were Major Flood Page, Dr. Walford Davies, organist of the Temple Church, Mr. J. A. Fuller Maitland, Mr. Barclay Squire, and the representatives of the many musical societies in different parts of the country. The chief mourners were Mr. Walter Grove, Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Grove, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Grove, Mr. Edmund Grove, and Mrs. E. Long Fox. Lady Grove was not present. The service at the church was conducted by the Dean of Westminster, brother-in-law of Sir George Grove, assisted by the Bishop of Southwark, the Sub-Dean of the Chapels Royal, and the Rev. Walter Moberly, vicar of the parish. Among those who sent wreaths were the Prince and Princess of Wales, "As a token of respect and regard," the Royal College of Music, Sir Arthur Sullivan, Messrs. Macmillan and Co., Sir Charles and Lady Wilson, and Sir Courtenay and Lady Ilbert.
This work was published in 1900 and is anonymous or pseudonymous due to unknown authorship. It is in the public domain in the United States as well as countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 123 years or less since publication.
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# The Times/1899/Obituary/Charles Henry Coote

* related portals: Obituaries.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
Source: Obituary. The Times, Friday, May 05, 1899; Issue 35821; pg. 10; col D
Layout 2The Athenæum says that Mr. Charles Henry Coote, of the British Museum, who died on Sunday obtained during his long service of 41 years in the Museum such an intimate acquaintance with the details of old maps that he became of the first authorities on the subject. In 1878 he published in the New Shakspere Society's Transactions a paper on "Shakspere's New Map in Twelfth Night"l in 1886, with Mr. E. Dalmar Morgan, he prepared for the Hakluyt Society "Early Voyages to Russia and Persia"; in 1888 he edited, with an introduction and bibliography, "A Reproduction of Johann Schöner's Globe of 1523"; in 1894 he published, with prologue and notes, "The Voyage from Lisbon to India, 1505-6, by Albericus Vespuccius"; and in 1894-95 he supplied the explanatory text to F. Muller and Co.'s reproductions of "Remarkable Maps of the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries." He also wrote the introduction to the Earl of Crawford's "Autotype Facsimiles of Three Mappemondes," recently issued. Mr Coote contributed many articles to the ninth edition of "Encyclopædia Britannica" and to the "Dictionary of National Biography," and he had been for several years a contributor to the Athenæum.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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# The Times/1900/News/Siege of Mafeking

19th January 1900
The Siege Of Mafeking.
(FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT.)
                MAFEKING, JAN. 3.*
The enemy have received a New Year's gift from Pretoria in the shape of a new gun and three wagon loads of ammunition. The bombardment consequently has continued more vigorously since. The new gun fires shells charged with a chemical liquid, which ignites upon contact with the air. This weapon has effected no damage hitherto, with the exception of a few minor fires in the gardens of Mafeking.
The resistance of the garrison is goading the Boers to commit various atrocities. Despite innumerable warnings they have concentrated their fire during the last two days upon the women's laager and hospital. Children have been killed and women mutilated by the bursting of shells. These occurrences are fanning a spirit of revenge in the breasts of the townspeople. It is no longer possible to guarantee the safety of the women and children of Mafeking, despite every precaution. Colonel Baden-Powell has stated that it is impossible to rely upon Boer honour. The scenes of terror and consternation among the women folk are pitiable in the extreme.
Colonel Baden-Powell and Major Goold Adams have deposed Wessels, chief of the tribe of the Baralongs, who had quarters at Mafeking. Wessels has lately been intractable. He spread false reports among the tribes that the military authorities were endeavouring to make the natives slaves. The government of the tribe has been given over to two chief councillors, and a better feeling is already being established.
Adverting to my telegram describing the Game Tree fight, there is no longer any doubt that the Boers used explosive bullets. The strictest and most impartial inquiry has been held among troopers and officers, the results of which have been embodied in a report.
I have interviewed Surgeon-Major Anderson, an Imperial Service officer sent out by the Director of Hospitals to Colonel Baden-Powell's force, who authorizes me to say that the wounds inflicted were altogether different to previous experience in Egypt and in India, and that it was impossible they could have been produced by Martini or Mauser bullets, though perhaps they might have been caused by Snider ones, but from a scrutiny of the wounds made while dressing them in hospital here he has no doubt in his own mind that bullets of an explosive character were used by the Boers.
             By Runner via Mochudi, Jan. 18.
# The Times/1899/News/Investiture of Order of the Bath

Source: The Times, Thursday, Aug 03, 1899; Issue 35898; pg. 6; col A — Court Circular
Layout 2
Court Circular
The Queen to-day held a private Investiture of the Orders of the Bath, the Star of India, St. Michael and St. George, and the Indian Empire.
The Queen accompanied by Their Royal Highnesses Princess Henry of Battenberg and the Duke and Duchess of York, entered the Council Room at 3 o'clock.
Order of the Bath
The following Knights Commanders were severally introduced into Her Majesty's presence, when the Queen conferred upon them the honour of Knighthood and invested them with the Riband and Badge of the Civil Division of the Second Class of the Order, and affixed the Star to their left breasts, viz. :—
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1900

Content exists for this periodical, though at this stage it is not specifically organised beyond a basic hierarchy.
The pages listed below are an automatically generated listing.
Special:PrefixIndex/The Times/1900/
# The Times/1899/News/Order of the Bath - George Herbert Murray

Source: The Times, Saturday, Jun 03, 1899; Issue 35846; pg. 11; col E — Birthday Honours
Layout 2
Birthday Honours
The Queen has been pleased to approve the following promotions in and appointments to the Most Honourable Order of the Bath (Civil Division):—
To be K.C.B.
George Herbert Murray, Esq., C.B.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
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# The Russian Review/Volume 1/March 1916/The Sky and the Stars

Uncredited translation. The poem was written in 1831, first published in 1845
The Sky and the Stars.
By M. J. Lermontov.
Translated for "The Russian Review."
Clear is the evening sky,
Bright are the distant stars,
Bright, as the joy of a child.
Ah, me! Why is it that I cannot say,
"Stars, you're as bright as my own joy supreme?"
"Why are you joyless?"
Kind men will ask me.
Kind men, I'm joyless
Because stars and heavens
Are stars and heavens, while I'm but a man.
Men, one another
Envy with grudging,
Not so with me:
Only the beautiful stars do I envy,
Only their place would I willingly take.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Russian Review/Volume 1/March 1916/The Sea and the Heart

The Sea and the Heart.
By Count Alexis Tolstoy.
Translated for "The Russian Review."
When ebbs the tide, think not the sea inconstant,
It will return again back to the shore;
Believe it not, my friend, when in excess of anguish,
I say my love for thee exists no more!
Already back the dashing waves are rolling,
Back from afar to the beloved strand;
Again, again I long, full of that self-same passion,
To place once more my freedom in thy hand!
# The Russian Review/Volume 1/March 1916/Three Poems

Three Poems by K. R.
Authorized Translation by Constance Purdy.
The author of these poems is the late Grand Duke Constantine Constantinovich, who wrote under the pseudonym of K. R.—Ed.
ROSES.
In bygone days of youthful hope— Those golden days of cloudless azure— Untouched by grief we drank Life's measure,
And storms came not within our scope.
For us the fragrance of the flowers— The moonlight shone for us alone,
For us, at night, her plaintive moan
The nightingale trilled through the bowers.
And in that year of memories blest
What reckoned we of Life's dull proses . . .
How lovely then they were,
How fresh, how sweet the roses!
That radiant time is long since past.
We tasted deep of care and sadness,
Sorrows we mingled with our gladness.
But, friend, depression should not last:
See now, how fair God's world we live in;
How vast and clear is Heaven's dome,
How green the garden of our home,
And warm and mild the day He's given.
The breeze floats through the open door,
Each flower a tear of dew discloses . . . How lovely are they now,
How fresh, how sweet the roses!
For all which we have undergone,
A hundredfold shall be amassed us.
The days will one by one slip past us,
And once the gloomy winter gone,
Anew through blossoming meadow winging
Glad Spring will take her happy flight.
The quiet moon will shine at night,
The nightingale pour forth her singing.
And, while we rest from toil, again
Our dreams of youth will soft enclose us . . .
How lovely then they'll be,
How fresh, how sweet the roses!
IMMORTALITY.
No, I cannot believe, that when the grave has claimed us,
Our memories of life we shall not keep;
Nor will Death take away forever joys and sorrows,
By sinking us into eternal sleep.
On opening somewhere there, shall then our eyes be blinded,
Our ears forever lose the power to hear?
And memory of the past,—beyond the coffin's darkness— Will not the soul released still hold it dear?
Within that other world, could Raphael awaking,
Forget his Sistine Virgin thron'd above?
Would Shakespeare not sometimes remember Hamlet?
Could Mozart there his Requiem cease to love?
It cannot be. No, all which sacred was and lovely
We shall relive,—not sleep beneath the sod,
And not forgetting, no! But purely, without passion,
Again shall love, in spirit joined with God!
THE BELLS.
Sounding their call to prayer, what melancholy longing
Here in this foreign land the deep-toned bells impart.
They speak to me of home, its memories prolonging,
And all my former grief lies heavy on my heart.
My northern fields I see, all fair and snowy lying,
Our village chimes I hear, their note familiar swells,
And from that distant land, unto my thought replying
With kindness and with tenderness, resound the friendly bells.
# The Russian Review/Volume 1/May 1916/A Wallachian Legend

A Wallachian Legend.
By Maxim Gorky.
Translated by Elbert Aidline.
A fairy once dwelt in a forest,
And bathed in its silvery streams;
One day she was caught by the fishers,
While morning was shedding its gleams.
The fishers all scattered, affrighted,
But Marco, a fisherman young;
He kissed her, embraced, and caressed her,
So vigorous, youthful, and strong.
The fairy entwined like a serpent,
Seductively tender and mild,
And gazing upon him intently,
She silently, silently smiled.
All day she embraced and caressed him,
But—happiness ever is brief— With nightfall the fairy had vanished
And left him alone with his grief.
At daylight, at starlight he wanders,
And seeks her, and withers, and craves,
"Oh, where is my fairy?"—"We know not,"
Are laughing the treacherous waves.
"Be silent!" he cries to the wavelets.
"Yourselves with my fairy you play!"
And into the waters deceitful
He plunged, there to seek his sweet fay. . .
The fairy still dwells in the forest,
Still beautiful, charming, and young . . .
But Marco is dead . . . Yet forever
He'll live in the glory of Song.
While you, self-contented and dormant,
Like worms you will crawl on your way;
No tale shall relate of your doings,
No poet shall sing you a lay!
# The Russian Review/Volume 1/March 1916/Should the Poets Mobilize?

Should The Poets Mobilize?
This question is eagerly discussed in the Russian press, and we hear strong arguments both for and against the participation of the Russian poets in the general mobilization of all Russian resources,—intellectual, as well as material.
If the Russian economists, political writers, philosophers, and thinkers are doing their share, why should not the poets, artists, and novelists devote their energies toward helping the nation to reach its goal?
The Russian poets did respond, but we hear now from the critics, that, from the purely literary standpoint, the war output of poetry has been unsuccessful and has actually lowered the high standards of Russian literature. Influential critics suggest that this is no time to write or to sing of war. The great literary epopee of the war of 1812 was written by Tolstoy fifty years after the bones of the French grenadiers were laid in their fraternal graves. The rattle of sword does not go with lyric song.
On the other hand, the famous Russian writer, Leonid Andreyev, insists that the poets of the country should share the burdens of the war. He himself has become a rather mediocre newspaperman, writing exclusively on the war. "The poet,"—says Andreyev,—"is the only one who can and should bring home to the masses of the Russian people the horrors of war. A powerful description of a shot from a 42-centimeter gun might produce an even more powerful impression that the shot itself. The horrible war is undermining the very substance of Russia's national life, and the men of letters, the whole intellectual army of the land, should rise, and, instead of the 'liturgy to Beauty', should sing and cry about the war, ring the alarm-bells, blow the trumpet, and arouse the Nation's conscience."
"To hear the war,"—says Andreyev,—"means to place a new valuation upon our internal life, our joys, our sorrows, and our aspirations. It means to place a stone upon the grave of Yesterday, and to change the Present."
Those who disagree with Andreyev, plead in the name of Art, which, in their estimation, should remain apart from such cataclysms as the war, and continue its work. They point out that Archimedes concluded work on his famous theorems under ​the swords of his country's enemies, and that Hegel wrote the last pages of his "Phenomenology of Spirit" while the forces of the enemy were entering his native town.
# The Russian Review/Volume 1/May 1916

* VOL. I
* THE RUSSIAN REVIEW ||
* A MONTHLY MAGAZINE ||
* Devoted to Russian Life, Literature and Art. ||
LEO PASVOLSKY, Editor :
| LOUIS S. FRIEDLAND, Associate Editor | MARK VILLCHUR, Assistant Editor |
* Published by
* The Russian Review Publishing Co., 31 East 7th St., New York City.
* VICTOR SHIMKIN, Business Manager
CONTENTS.
(From the "Russkiya Viedomosti.")
Translated by Lindsay S. Perkins.
LITERATURE, MUSIC, ART.
Translated from the Russian.
Translated by Elbert Aidline.
Translated from the Russian.
INDUSTRY, COMMERCE, FINANCE.
RUSSIA AND THE WAR.
Rendered into English Verse by Alice Stone Blackwell.
REPRODUCTIONS OF RUSSIAN PAINTINGS:
Manuscripts should be addressed to the Editor of The Russian Review, 31 East 7th Street, New York City, and should be accompanied by stamped addressed envelope for return. Annual subscription rates: In the United States, Mexico, Cuba, and American Possessions, $3.00 net: in Canada, $3.50: in all other countries in the postal union, $4.00. Entered as Second Class Matter February 10, 1016, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 8, 1870. Copyright, 1916, by the Russian Review Publishing Company.
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# The Russian Review/Volume 1/March 1916/The Ninth Wave

The Ninth Wave.
By P. Yakubovich.
Rendered into English Verse by Alice Stone Blackwell.
Not for every plashing wavelet
Watches keen the helmsman's eye;
He awaits the last huge roller,
When the ninth wave surges high.
But until that last strong roller
Swells with deep, decisive roar,
We must meet the strife and effort
Of the waves that go before.
Even though we scarce perceive them,
Sinking vanquished to their grave,
Wait, O brethren, wait with courage
For the ninth, the conqu'ring wave!
# The Three Impostors

Boston: Roberts Brothers, pages hlf–toc
THE THREE IMPOSTORS
The Three Impostors
or The Transmutations
by Arthur Machen
TRANSLATOR OF 'L'HEPTAMERON' AND 'LE MOYEN DE PARVENIR'; AUTHOR OF 'THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY' AND 'THE GREAT GOD PAN'
Boston: Roberts Bros., 1895 London: John Lane, Vigo St.
Copyright, 1895,
By Roberts Brothers.
All Rights Reserved.
University Press:
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A.
CONTENTS
PAGE
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1947, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 76 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# The Three Hermits

English-language translations of Три Старца include:
* "The Three Mendicants," translated by Nathan Haskell Dole in Iván Ilyitch and Other Stories, 1887
* "Three Old Men," translated by Robert Nisbet Bain in Tales from Tolstoi, 1901
* "The Three Hermits," translate by Leo Wiener in The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy, 1904
* "The Three Hermits," translated by Aylmer and Louise Maude in Twenty-three Tales, 1906
# The Social Cancer

* related portals: Philippines.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, textbook, course, Wikidata item.
Noli Me Tangere is a novel written in Spanish by Filipino writer and national hero José Rizal, first published in 1887 in Berlin, Germany. The English translation was originally titled The Social Cancer. The novel is about the abuses that Philippine natives were suffering at the hands of the Spanish friars.
THE SOCIAL CANCER
The Social Cancer
A Complete English Version of Noli me Tangere from the Spanish of
José Rizal
By Charles Derbyshire
Manila Philippine Education Company 1912
THE NOVELS OF JOSÉ RIZAL
Translated from Spanish into English
By Charles Derbyshire
* THE SOCIAL CANCER (NOLI ME TANGERE)
* THE REIGN OF GREED (EL FILIBUSTERISMO)
Copyright, 1912, by Philippine Education Company. Entered at Stationers' Hall. Regiatrado en las Islas Filipinas. All rights reserved.
CONTENTS
Translator's Introduction
Author's Dedication
| Chapter | Page |
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Social Cancer/Author's Dedication

Author's Dedication
To My Fatherland:
Recorded in the history of human sufferings is a cancer of so malignant a character that the least touch irritates it and awakens in it the sharpest pains. Thus, how many times, when in the midst of modern civilizations I have wished to call thee before me, now to accompany me in memories, now to compare thee with other countries, hath thy dear image presented itself showing a social cancer like to that other!
Desiring thy welfare, which is our own, and seeking the best treatment, I will do with thee what the ancients did with their sick, exposing them on the steps of the temple so that every one who came to invoke the Divinity might offer them a remedy.
And to this end, I will strive to reproduce thy condition faithfully, without discriminations; I will raise a part of the veil that covers the evil, sacrificing to truth everything, even vanity itself, since, as thy son, I am conscious that I also suffer from thy defects and weaknesses.
THE AUTHOR
Europe, 1886
# The Snug Little Island

"At Canterbury [Dibdin] wrote 'The British Raft' [1797-8], ridiculing the threatened French invasion, and its one song, 'The Snug Little Island,' attained astonishing popularity." —"Dibdin, Thomas John," in Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, London: Smith, Elder, & Co. (1885–1900) in 63 vols.
* "Daddy Neptune" in Catharine Ogie (1815-1825)
* "The Tight Little Island" in Tight little island (1818)
* "The Snug Little Island" in Bonny lass of Calder Braes (1820)
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Keys

original title: Ключ и отмычка
The Keys
A SKELETON-KEY said to her neighbour:
"I go about everywhere, but you lie still. Where have I not been, but you've always remained at home. What are you thinking about?"
The old key did not want to answer, but she said:
"There is a strong oaken door. I lock it, and when the time comes I unlock it again."
"Well," said the skeleton-key, "but aren't there a great many doors in the world?"
"I don't need to know about any other doors," said the key. "I can't open them."
"Can't you? But I can open every door!"
And the skeleton-key thought to herself:
"This key is really stupid if it can only open one door." But the key said to her:
​"You're a thieves' skeleton-key, but I am a true and honest door-key."
This the skeleton-key did not understand. She did not know what truth and honesty were, and she thought that the door-key was so old that she had gone out of her mind.
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Delicate Child

original title: Нежный мальчик
The Delicate Child
THERE once lived a delicate child.
When he was born they put him in a glass bell-jar, so that flies should not torment him.
So he lived in the bell-jar.
The boy looked out through the glass and saw the birch tree shaking in the wind. But he did not know that it was from the wind, the delicate boy did not know.
And he cried out to the birch tree:
"Don't shake, stupid birch, you'll break yourself."
The wind ceased to blow and the birch became still. And the delicate boy was very pleased, and so cried out:
"That's a sensible tree, I'm glad you listened to me."
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Independent Leaves

original title: Самостоятельные листья
The Independent Leaves
SOME leaves with very strong stalks were hanging from a branch, and they found life very dull. It was very unpleasant—they could see the birds flying and the kittens running about; even the clouds were being carried along—and they were still on the branch. They swung themselves about, trying to break off from their stalks and be free.
They said to one another:
"We can live independent lives. We are quite grown up. But here we are under guardianship, stuck fast to this old stupid branch."
They swung themselves about and at last got free. They fell to the ground and withered. Presently the gardener came and swept them away with the refuse.