OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society/Volume 4

​[No. 4.]
JOURNAL
OF THE
STRAITS BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY.
DECEMBER, 1879.
PUBLISHED HALF-YEARLY.
SINGAPORE:
Printed at the Prison Printing Office.
1880.
Agents of the Society:
London ... Trübner & Co. | Paris, ... Ernest Leroux & Cie.

### TABLE OF CONTENTS.

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1879, before the cutoff of January 1, 1930.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society/Volume 3

​No. 3.
JOURNAL
OF THE
STRAITS BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY.
JULY, 1879.
PUBLISHED HALF-YEARLY.
SINGAPORE:
Printed at the "Mission Press" by the Proprietors.
1879.
[Price $1 per copy.]
ERRATA.
| Page 21, | 7th line from top | for Illustration | read illustrative. |
| Page„ 21, | 6th line„ from„ bottom | for„ Sesah | read„ Sesal. |
| Page„ 22, | 17th line„ from„ top | for„ digan | read„ di-gau. |
| Page„ 22, | 21th line„ from„ top„ | for„ Gan | read„ Gau. |
| Page„ 29, | 4th line from„ top„ | for„ kan | read„ ikan |
| Page„ 33, | 6th line„ from„ bottom | for„ chian | read„ chiau. |
| Page„ 34, | 6th line„ from„ top | for„ munerautur | read„ numerantur. |
| Page„ 34, | 8th line„ from„ top„ | for„ hurah | read„ lurah |
| Page„ 40, | 2nd line„ from„ top„ | for„ won'top | read„ won't do |
| Page„ 42, | 2nd line„ from„ top„ | for„ kiki | read„ kaki |
| Page„ 50, | 8th line„ from„ top„ | for„ no | read„ ho |
| Page„ 62, | After the Titling, add the words "By Sir Stamford Raffles" | After the Titling, add the words "By Sir Stamford Raffles" | After the Titling, add the words "By Sir Stamford Raffles" |
| Page„ 69, | 4th line from top | for„ virties | read varies |
| Page„ 144, | 3nd line from„ bottom | after the words "alone is" add the word "printed" (vide ante p.92)" | after the words "alone is" add the word "printed" (vide ante p.92)" |

### TABLE OF CONTENTS.

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1879, before the cutoff of January 1, 1930.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society/Volume 2

​No. 2.
[Price to Members, Extra copies ... $1.00 each
To non-members ... 2.00 each
JOURNAL
OF THE
STRAITS BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY
DECEMBER, 1878
PUBLISHED HALF-YEARLY
SINGAPORE:
Printed at the "Mission Press." By A. B. Abdullah.
1878
​Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalofstrait121878roya).pdf/169

### TABLE OF CONTENTS.

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1878, before the cutoff of January 1, 1930.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society/Volume 1

​No. 1.
[Price to Members, Extra copies... ... $1.00 each
To non-members, ... ... 2.00 each
JOURNAL
OF THE
STRAITS BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY
JULY, 1878
PUBLISHED HALF-YEARLY.
SINGAPORE:
Printed at the "Straits Times" Press, by A. Frois.
1878.

## ERRATA.

| Page II (List of Members) | for | Brooke St.II.Sir, | read | H. H. Raja |
| Page II (List of Members)„ | for„ | Labuan & S'baya | for„ | Labuan & Saráwak. |
| Page II (List of Members)„ | for„ | Penndy F. G. | for„ | Penney F. G. |
| 9 line„ 2 | for„ | That is, his | for„ | That is his. |
| 17 line„ 20 | for„ | Manrix | for„ | Matrix. |
| 20 line„ 3 | for„ | residuce left bp | for„ | residue left by. |
| 21 line„ 7 | for„ | and | for„ | an. |
| 22 line„ 28 | for„ | regulut | for„ | regulus. |
| 23 line„ 16 | for„ | needless | for„ | needles. |
| 23„ line„ 19 | for„ | finnds | for„ | finds. |
| 23„ line 24 | for„ | in | for„ | it. |
| 23„ lines 26 & 27 | for„ | oer | for„ | ore. |
| 23„ line„ 33 | for„ | rarer those | for„ | rarer than those. |
| 24 line„ 6 | for„ | N. S. and | for„ | S. E. |
| 42 43 44 Head-lines | for„ | Melanecian | for„ | Melanesian. |
| 108 line 1 | for„ | Royal Asiatic Society of the Straits Branch | for„ | Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. |
| 116 line„ 10 | for„ | of several | for„ | of. Several. |

## TABLE OF CONTENTS.

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published in 1878, before the cutoff of January 1, 1930.
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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Watty and May, or, The Wife Reclaimed/The Puzzled Dutchman

THE PUZZLED DUTCHMAN.
# The Puzzled Dutchman

"I'm a proken-hearted Deutscher"
* "The Puzzled Dutchman", in Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems (1910), by Charles Follen Adams
* "The Puzzled Dutchman", in Watty and May, or, The Wife Reclaimed (n.d.), a chapbook with no printing information
# The Comical Story of Thrummy Cap and the Ghaist

THE COMICAL STORY OF THRUMMY CAP AND THE GHAIST. TO WHICH IS ADDED THE HIGHLAND STORY OF DONALD& HIS DOG.
GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS
Contents (not listed in original)
* Thrummy Cap
* Donald and His Dog
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Comical Story of Thrummy Cap and the Ghaist/Thrummy Cap

THRUMMY CAP. A TALE.
# Thrummy Cap

* "Thrummy cap, a tale", in Thrummy Cap, a Tale (1839), a chapbook printed in Brechin
* "Thrummy Cap", in The Comical Stories of Thrummy Cap and the Ghaist (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Thrummy Cap", in The Comical Stories of Thrummy Cap and the Ghaist (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow (different content to the one above)
* "Thrummy Cap", in The Comical Stories of Thrummy Cap and the Ghaist (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow (different content to the two above)
* "Thrummy Cap", in The Murdered Minstrel (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# Proclamation 9720

Proclamation 9720 of April 3, 2018
50th Anniversary of the Assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
By the President of the United States of America
A Proclamation
Fifty years ago today, on April 4, 1968, the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was tragically assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee. Though he was taken from this earth unjustly, he left us with his legacy of justice and peace. In remembrance of his profound and inspirational virtues, we look to do as Dr. King did while this world was privileged enough to still have him. We must learn to live together as brothers and sisters lest we perish together as fools. We must embrace the sanctity of life and love our neighbor as we love ourselves. As a united people, we must see Dr. King’s life mission through and denounce racism, inhumanity, and all those things that seek to divide us.
It is not government that will achieve Dr. King’s ideals, but rather the people of this great country who will see to it that our Nation represents all that is good and true, and embodies unity, peace, and justice. We must actively aspire to secure the dream of living together as one people with a common purpose. President Abraham Lincoln sought to eradicate the senseless divisions of racial hierarchies when he issued the Emancipation Proclamation. Just over 100 years later, Dr. King continued this effort and called upon Americans to reject ugly impulses and prejudices, and to recognize the beauty and the humanity of all people, regardless of the color of their skin. Today, we remain steadfast in advancing their efforts, in hopes of hastening the day when all of God’s children will join hands in freedom forever.
NOW, THEREFORE, I, DONALD J. TRUMP, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim April 4, 2018, to be a day to honor Dr. King’s legacy. I urge all Americans to do their part to make Dr. King’s dreams of peace, unity, and justice a reality.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this third day of April, in the year of our Lord two thousand eighteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and forty-second.
# Proclamation 9719

Proclamation 9719 of April 2, 2018
World Autism Awareness Day, 2018
By the President of the United States of America
A Proclamation
World Autism Awareness Day is an opportunity to recognize and support all children and adults with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Today, millions of adults and an estimated 1 out of every 68 children in the United States have been diagnosed with some form of ASD. Notwithstanding these diagnoses, Americans with ASD make exceptional contributions across our Nation and around the world. On this day, we honor their accomplishments and recommit to ensuring that they enjoy the same opportunities to fulfill their potential that all Americans deserve.
To maximize the quality of life across the entire autism spectrum, we must ensure that ASD is accurately identified and diagnosed in both children and adults. We must also support access to effective care, critical resources, and support services. To further these important goals, I was pleased to sign into law the Recognize, Assist, Include, Support, and Engage (RAISE) Family Caregivers Act, which will provide a national framework to support families as they care for loved ones with ASD and other similar conditions. My Administration also continues to focus on young adults with ASD. The Department of Health and Human Services, in accordance with the Autism CARES Act of 2014 and in coordination with other executive departments and agencies, has released a report that details services available for young people with ASD as they leave secondary education to help them transition to adulthood. In addition, the Department’s Interagency Autism Coordinating Committee ensures robust engagement with people with ASD and their families to help inform policies and priorities.
My Administration remains focused on this critical work and committed to advancing initiatives that improve the lives of those living with ASD. On World Autism Awareness Day, let us renew our commitment to support the entire international ASD community, including children and adults with ASD, their families, and caregivers. Together, we can increase access to information, encourage heightened understanding of ASD, promote respect and dignity, and support the services that assist people with ASD to reach their full potential.
NOW, THEREFORE, I, DONALD J. TRUMP, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim April 2, 2018, World Autism Awareness Day. I encourage all Americans to learn more about autism, and find ways to support people with autism and their families and caregivers.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this second day of April, in the year of our Lord two thousand eighteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and forty-second.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture

Posted online at https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/promoting-beautiful-federal-civic-architecture/ 2025-01-20
January 20, 2025
Memorandum for the Administrator of the General Services
Administration
Subject: Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture
I hereby direct the Administrator of the General Services Administration, in consultation with the Assistant to the President for Domestic Policy and the heads of departments and agencies of the United States where necessary, to submit to me within 60 days recommendations to advance the policy that Federal public buildings should be visually identifiable as civic buildings and respect regional, traditional, and classical architectural heritage in order to uplift and beautify public spaces and ennoble the United States and our system of self-government. Such recommendations shall consider appropriate revisions to the Guiding Principles for Federal Architecture and procedures for incorporating community input into Federal building design selections.
If, before such recommendations are submitted, the Administrator of the General Services Administration proposes to approve a design for a new Federal public building that diverges from the policy set forth in this memorandum, the Administrator shall notify me, through the Assistant to the President for Domestic Policy, not less than 30 days before the General Services Administration could reject such design without incurring substantial expenditures. Such notification shall set forth the reasons the Administrator proposes to approve such design.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Cane (Toomer)/Beehive

Within this black hive to-night
There swarm a million bees;
Bees passing in and out the moon,
Bees escaping out the moon,
Bees returning through the moon,
Silver bees intently buzzing,
Silver honey dripping from the swarm of bees
Earth is a waxen cell of the world comb,
And I, a drone,
Lying on my back,
Lipping honey,
Getting drunk with silver honey,
Wish that I might fly out past the moon
And curl forever in some far-off farmyard flower.
# Cane (Toomer)/Calling Jesus

HER soul is like a little thrust-tailed dog that follows her, whimpering. She is large enough, I know, to find a warm spot for it. But each night when she comes home and closes the big outside storm door, the little dog is left in the vestibule, filled with chills till morning. Some one ... eoho Jesus ... soft as a cotton boll brushed against the milk-pod cheek of Christ, will steal in and cover it that it need not shiver, and carry it to her where she sleeps upon clean hay cut in her dreams.
When you meet her in the daytime on the streets, the little dog keeps coming. Nothing happens at first, and then, when she has forgotten the streets and alleys, and the large house where she goes to bed of nights, a soft thing like fur begins to rub your limbs, and you hear a low, scared voice, lonely, calling, and you know that a cool something nozzles moisture in your palms. Sensitive things like nostrils, quiver. Her breath comes sweet as honeysuckle whose pistils bear the life of coming song. And her eyes carry to where builders find no need for vestibules, for swinging on iron hinges, storm doors.
Her soul is like a little thrust-tailed dog, that follows her, whimpering. I’ve seen it tagging on behind her, up streets where chestnut trees flowered, where dusty asphalt had been freshly sprinkled with clean water. Up alleys where niggers sat on low door-steps before tumbled shanties and sang and loved. At night, when she comes home, the little dog is left in the vestibule, nosing the crack beneath the big storm door, filled with chills till morning. Some one ... eoho Jesus ... soft as the bare feet of Christ moving across bales of southern cotton, will steal in and cover it that it need not shiver, and carry it to her where she sleeps: cradled in dream-fluted cane.
# Cane (Toomer)/Conversion

African Guardian of Souls,
Drunk with rum,
Feasting on a strange cassava,
Yielding to new words and a weak palabra
Of a white-faced sardonic god—
Grins, cries
Amen,
Shouts hosanna.
# Cane (Toomer)/Cotton Song

Come, brother, come. Lets lift it;
Come now, hewit! roll away!
Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day
But lets not wait for it.
God’s body’s got a soul,
Bodies like to roll the soul,
Cant blame God if we dont roll,
Come, brother, roll, roll!
Cotton bales are the fleecy way
Weary sinner’s bare feet trod,
Softly, softly to the throne of God,
“We aint agwine t wait until th Judgment Day!
Nassur; nassur,
Hump.
Eoho, eoho, roll away!
We aint agwine t wait until th Judgment Day!”
God’s body’s got a soul,
Bodies like to roll the soul,
Cant blame God if we dont roll,
Come, brother, roll, roll!
# Cane (Toomer)/Face

Hair—
silver-gray,
like streams of stars,
Brows—
recurved canoes
quivered by the ripples blown by pain,
Her eyes—
mist of tears
condensing on the flesh below
And her channeled muscles
are cluster grapes of sorrow
purple in the evening sun
nearly ripe for worms.
# Cane (Toomer)/Evening Song

Full moon rising on the waters of my heart,
Lakes and moon and fires,
Cloine tires,
Holding her lips apart.
Promises of slumber leaving shore to charm the moon,
Miracle made vesper-keeps,
Cloine sleeps,
And I’ll be sleeping soon.
Cloine, curled like the sleepy waters where the moon-waves start,
Radiant, resplendently she gleams,
Cloine dreams,
Lips pressed against my heart.
# Cane (Toomer)/Harvest Song

I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled.
But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger.
I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it.
I have been in the fields all day. My throat is dry. I hunger.
My eyes are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest- time.
I am a blind man who stares across the hills, seeking stack’d fields of other harvesters.
It would be good to see them ... crook’d, split, and iron-ring’d handles of the scythes. It would be good to see them, dust-caked and blind. I hunger.
(Dusk is a strange fear’d sheath their blades are dull’d in.)
My throat is dry. And should I call, a cracked grain like the oats ... eoho—
I fear to call. What should they hear me, and offer me their grain, oats, or wheat, or corn? I have been in the fields all day. I fear I could not taste it. I fear knowledge of my hunger.
My ears are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest-time.
I am a deaf man who strains to hear the calls of other harvesters whose throats are also dry.
It would be good to hear their songs .. reapers of the sweet-stalk’d cane, cutters of the corn .. even though their throats cracked and the strangeness of their voices deafened me.
I hunger. My throat is dry. Now that the sun has set and I am chilled, I fear to call. (Eoho, my brothers!)
I am a reaper. (Eoho!) All my oats are cradled. But I am too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger. I crack a grain. It has no taste to it. My throat is dry...
O my brothers, I beat my palms, still soft, against the stubble of my harvesting. (You beat your soft palms, too.) My pain is sweet. Sweeter than the oats or wheat or corn. It will not bring me knowledge of my hunger.
# Cane (Toomer)/Nullo

A spray of pine-needles,
Dipped in western horizon gold,
Fell onto a path.
Dry moulds of cow-hoofs.
In the forest.
Rabbits knew not of their falling,
Nor did the forest catch aflame.
# Cane (Toomer)/Portrait in Georgia

Hair—braided chestnut, coiled like a lyncher’s rope,
Eyes—fagots,
Lips—old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath—the last sweet scent of cane,
And her slim body, white as the ash of black flesh after flame.
# Cane (Toomer)/Prayer

My body is opaque to the soul.
Driven of the spirit, long have I sought to temper it unto the spirit’s longing,
But my mind, too, is opaque to the soul.
A closed lid is my soul’s flesh-eye.
O Spirits of whom my soul is but a little finger,
Direct it to the lid of its flesh-eye.
I am weak with much giving.
I am weak with the desire to give more.
(How strong a thing is the little finger!)
So weak that I have confused the body with the soul,
And the body with its little finger.
(How frail is the little finger.)
My voice could not carry to you did you dwell in stars,
O Spirits of whom my soul is but a little finger...
# Cane (Toomer)/Reapers

Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones
Are sharpening scythes. I see them place the hones
In their hip-pockets as a thing that’s done,
And start their silent swinging, one by one.
Black horses drive a mower through the weeds,
And there, a field rat, startled, squealing bleeds,
His belly close to ground. I see the blade,
Blood-stained, continue cutting weeds and shade.
# Cane (Toomer)/Her Lips Are Copper Wire

whisper of yellow globes
gleaming on lamp-posts that sway
like bootleg licker drinkers in the fog
and let your breath be moist against me
like bright beads on yellow globes
telephone the power-house
that the main wires are insulate
(her words play softly up and down
dewy corridors of billboards)
then with your tongue remove the tape
and press your lips to mine
till they are incandescent
# Cane (Toomer)/Rhobert

RHOBERT wears a house, like a monstrous diver’s helmet, on his head. His legs are banty-bowed and shaky because as a child he had rickets. He is way down. Rods of the house like antennæ of a dead thing, stuffed, prop up in the air. He is way down. He is sinking. His house is a dead thing that weights him down. He is sinking as a diver would sink in mud should the water be drawn off. Life is a murky, wiggling, microscopic water that compresses him. Compresses his helmet and would crush it the minute that he pulled his head out. He has to keep it in. Life is water that is being drawn off.
Brother, life is water that is being drawn off.
Brother, life is water that is being drawn off.
The dead house is stuffed. The stuffing is alive. It is sinful to draw one’s head out of live stuffing in a dead house. The propped-up antennæ would cave in and the stuffing be strewn .. shredded life-pulp .. in the water. It is sinful to have one’s own head crushed. Rhobert is an upright man whose legs are banty-bowed and shaky because as a child he had rickets. The earth is round. Heaven is a sphere that surrounds it. Sink where you will. God is a Red Cross man with a dredge and a respiration-pump who’s waiting for you at the opposite periphery. God built the house. He blew His breath into its stuffing. It is good to die obeying Him who can do these things.
A futile something like the dead house wraps the live stuffing of the question: how long before the water will be drawn off? Rhobert does not care. Like most men who wear monstrous helmets, the pressure it exerts is enough to convince him of its practical infinity. And he cares not two straws as to whether or not he will ever see his wife and children again. Many a time he’s seen them drown in his dreams and has kicked about joyously in the mud for days after. One thing about him goes straight to the heart. He has an Adam’s-apple which strains sometimes as if he were painfully gulping great globules of air .. air floating shredded life-pulp. It is a sad thing to see a banty-bowed, shaky, ricket-legged man straining the raw insides of his throat against smooth air. Holding furtive thoughts about the glory of pulp-heads strewn in water... He is way down. Down. Mud, coining to his banty knees, almost hides them. Soon people will be looking at him and calling him a strong man. No doubt he is for one who has had rickets. Lets give it to him. Lets call him great when the water shall have been all drawn off. Lets build a monument and set it in the ooze where he goes down. A monument of hewn oak, carved in nigger-heads. Lets open our throats, brother, and sing “Deep River” when he goes down.
Brother, Rhobert is sinking.
Lets open our throats, brother,
Lets sing Deep River when he goes down.