OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Growing Up (Vorse)/Chapter 33

FOR a long time school had been throwing a shadow over Alice's life. It had all been decided for months that Robert was to go to public school in the fall. He was two years late going, but a very superior kindergarten "took" children through the first grade. In his second year influenza had raged, and so William Travers Jenkins, and Phyllis Alden, and Robert had had school together. Robert was therefore ready for the fourth grade and swaggered a good deal about it. That is to say, he was more than ready in geography and arithmetic, but his writing was scandalous, and his interest in life had never allowed him time to learn to spell.
Tom took Robert's going to school with complacency. Public school, he had decided, was the best thing after all, since it fitted boys for life. But Alice looked upon the handsome brick school building as she might look upon a pest-house that soon was to engulf her child. She often had to pass it on her way to the grocery. It had large plate windows which from the sidewalk looked as green as the windows in front of an aquarium, and perpetually fluttering and swinging behind them were the raised hands of children. One could only see their hands tossed restlessly upwards through the green glass.
This school building seemed to her full of enemies. She dreaded the school with the same intensity that she feared second summers, weaning, and the whooping cough. Once your children went to school, then, indeed, they set sail for the unknown. Kindergarten wasn't so ​bad—anyway not in Shoreham, where it was composed of a couple of dozen children all known to one—and no one could deny that it was a relief to have howling Sara, Robert, and Uncle Zotsby with his dog, all gone for a whole peaceful morning. Then one could get Things Done. Public school is different. Intellectually, Alice assented, it was the best place for a boy, but in her own secret heart her opinion of our school system was that of the educated Chinaman, who when asked why he didn't send his boy to our schools, replied with simplicity,
"Madam! Get louse—learn bad words." And, there was furthermore, to help in all the undesirable sides of Robert's education, Red Bates, the livery stableman's boy, whom Robert very much fancied. She felt that as soon as he went to school she would not be able to find her way around his mind any more. She would be forever tripping and stumbling over foreign things other people had put there.
# Growing Up (Vorse)/Chapter 36

It was while Robert was in this unfortunate mood that Alice undertook to explain to him the virtues of tomboys. Did he want a weak, effeminate sister who later on would be no companion to him, she inquired?
"I don't want to punch the nose of every fellow who calls her a tomboy," he responded to this. "She's awfully unobliging, too. She won't be It when you ask her to."
"Why should I be It all the time, Robert Marcey?" cried Sara with temper. "They want me to be It every single time, just because I'm a girl." Here her lips quivered and beautiful tears trembled in her eyes. "Half the time they want me to be It and shut my eyes and count, and after a hundred or a hundred and fifty they run away and leave me. Is that fair? Would you call that a kind brother, Mother?"
The wrongs of womanhood overwhelmed Sara, and she wept.
"There, you see!" said Robert. "Do you suppose I want a cry-baby around?"
"She wouldn't be a cry-baby if you treated her decently," Alice said.
"No, I wouldn't," said Sara. "They don't treat me decently—they're mean."
"Well," responded Robert, "what makes you want to tag along if we're mean?"
There it was. Why, indeed? There were girls, Robert pointed out, with whom Sara could play.
"Lots of mothers," he added pointedy, "don't want ​their little girls to play with us boys. We're too rough for girls."
He gave this out in a condescending tone which irritated his mother.
"I see no reason why you need be so rough," she said. "You must remember, Robert, that this yard is Sara's as much as yours."
"Why can't she play with her dolls like other girls?"
"She probably doesn't want to play with dolls all the time," Alice suggested, from the memories of her own youth.
"No, I don't," said Sara. "I want to play, and I don't want them to be mean to me."
"If you acted all right nobody'd be mean to you. If you didn't tell tales—if you weren't a cry-baby," her brother suggested.
Alice cut him short. "There are others who tell tales besides Sara," she said.
In this fashion, peace—it must be confessed of an armed sort—seemed to have been concluded and a sort of understanding seemed to have been arrived at. Alice clinched it with: "When you boys are playing in the yard there's no reason why Sara shouldn't play with you."
Yet Alice felt vaguely a brute as she said these words, and as her uneasy gaze traveled over the yard it seemed only too frequently Sara's long legs were scissoring the lawn in pursuit of retreating males.
"It's not," she told her husband, "as if half the boys who came here weren't smaller than Sara. It's all Robert's fault. He has the masculine attitude, the fatal conservatism of childhood, and he's got to get over it if he's going to live in the modern world."
This seemed to settle things. But in the world of children things won't stay settled. The unexpected crops out.
# Growing Up

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Growing Up"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Growing Up" (1925, "I've got shoes with grown-up laces"), a poem by Alan Alexander Milne
* Growing Up (1928), a book by Karl de Schweinitz
* Growing Up (1920), a novel by Mary Heaton Vorse

## See also

* Adolescence
* Age
* Growth
* Youth
# Japan

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Japan"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Japan," in Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed., 1911)
* Japan (1905), in Things Japanese
* "Japan," in The New Student's Reference Work, Chicago: F.E. Compton and Co. (1914)
* "Japan," in The World Factbook, (ed.) by CIA (1982)
* "Japan," in CIA World Fact Book, (ed.) by CIA (2004)
* "Japan" (1923, "Little lacquer cups in boxes of light wood exquisitely made"), a poem by Elizabeth Jane Coatsworth
* Japan: Past and Present (1946), a work by Edwin O. Reischauer

## See also

* Portal:Japan
# The Book of Scottish Song/Caledonia 3

Caledonia.
[James Hogg.]
Caledonia! thou land of the mountain and rock, Of the ocean, the mist, and the wind— Thou land of the torrent, the pine, and the oak, Of the roebuck, the hart, and the hind: Though bare are thy cliffs, and though barren thy glens, Though bleak thy dun islands appear, Yet kind are the hearts, and undaunted the clans, That roam on these mountains so drear!
A foe from abroad, or a tyrant at home, Could never thy ardour restrain; The marshall'd array of imperial Rome Essay'd thy proud spirit in vain! Firm seat of religion, of valour, of truth, Of genius unshackled and free, The muses have left all the vales of the south, My loved Caledonia, for thee!
Sweet land of the bay and the wild-winding deeps Where loveliness slumbers at even, While far in the depth of the blue water sleeps A calm little motionless heaven! Thou land of the valley, the moor, and the hill, Of the storm and the proud rolling wave— Yes, thou art the land of fair liberty still, And the land of my forefathers' grave!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Caledonia 2

Caledonia.
[John Imlah. Set to Music by Peter Macleod.]
The lamp o' day its radiance threw Far o'er the Grampian mountains blue, 'Mid burning clouds, when last adieu I bade to Caledonia.
And as I mark'd the mountains high, Like vapour melt 'tween sea and sky, Deep breath'd my heart a prayer and sigh For native Caledonia.
I love the streams, I love the linn, That foamin' fa's wi' deaf'nin' din, The bick'rin' burns that rowe within The glens of Caledonia.
The lochs sae peaceful, lone, profound, The misty mountains tow'ring round, Whose echoing rocks at eve resound The songs of Caledonia.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Caledonia 1

Caledonia.
[Robert Allan.—Air, "Kelvin Grove."]
The simmer sweetly smiles in Caledonia, The simmer sweetly smiles in Caledonia, Whare the scented hawthorns blaw, White as the drifted snaw, 'Mang the bonnie woods and wilds o' Caledonia.
There's motintain, hill, and dale, in Caledonia, There's mountain, hill, and dale, in Caledonia, There's mountain, hill, and dale, Where lovers tell their tale, By the bonnie siller streams o' Caledonia.
The twilight hour is sweet in Caledonia, The twilight hour is sweet in Caledonia, The twilight hour is sweet, When fa's the dewy weet, On the bonnie banks and braes o' Caledonia.
The glens are wild and steep in Caledonia, The glens are wild and steep in Caledonia, The glens are wild and steep, And the ocean's wide and deep, That encircles thee, my native Caledonia.
There's a bonnie, bonnie lass in Caledonia, There's a bonnie, bonnie lass in Caledonia, Ilka airt the wind can blaw, She's fairest o' them a', An' the dearest ane to me in Caledonia.
# Ewe-boughts Marion (1)/The ewe-boughts Marion

THE EWE-BOUGHTS MARION.
Will you go to the ewe-boughts Marion; And wear in the sheep wi’ me; The sun shines sweet my Marion, But nae half sae sweet as thee.
O Marion’s a bonny lass, And the blythe blinks in her eye; And fain wad I marry Marion, Gin Marion wad marry me.
I’ve nine milk ewes my Marion; A cow and a brawny quey, I’ll gie them a’ to my Marion, Just on her bridle day;
And ee’s get a green say apron, And waistcoat of the London brown. And wow but ye will be vap’ring, When ye gang to the town.
I’m young and stout, my Marion Nane dances like me on the green; And gin ye forsake me Marion, I’ll e’en gae draw up wi’ Jean;
Sae put on your pearlins, Marian, And kirtle of the cramsie, ​And soon as my chin has nae hair ont,
I shall come west and see ye.
# Ewe-boughts Marion (1)/Beneath the willow tree

BENEATH THE WILLOW TREE
O take me to your arms, my love, for keen the wind doth blaw; O take me to your arms, my love, for bitter is my woe. She hears me not, she cares not, nor will she list to me; And here I die in misery, beneath the willow tree. Willow, willow, willow, Beneath the willow tree.
​My love has wealth has love and beauty, the rich attend the door; My love has wealth and beauty, and I, alas! am poor. The ribbon fair that bound her hair, is all that’s left to me: Whilst here I die in misery, beneath the wil w tree. Willow, &c.
I once had gold and silver, I thought ’em without end; I once had gold and silver, and I thought I had a friend: My wealth is lost, my friend is false, my love he stole from me; And here I lie in misery, beneath the Willow tree. Willow, &c.
# Ewe-boughts Marion (1)

THE Ewe-Boughts Marion.
To which are added,
Nobody coming to Marry Me.
THE
MOUNTAIN FLOWER.
Caledonia.
Beneath the Willow Tree.
THE MAID OF THE MILL,
THE KING’S ANTHEM.
STIRLING: Printed and sold, by M Randall.
* The Ewe-Boughts Marion
* Nobody coming to Marry Me
* The Mountain Flower
* Caledonia
* Beneath the Willow Tree
* The Maid of the Mill
* The King's Anthem
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
# Tales from a Rolltop Desk

TALES FROM A ROLLTOP DESK
CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
TALES FROM A ROLLTOP DESK
BOOKS BY CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
Parnassus on Wheels
The Haunted bookshop
Shandygaff
Mince pie
Pipefuls
Kathleen
Tales From a Rolltop Desk
Songs for a Little House
The Rocking Horse
Hide and Seek
Travels in Philadelphia
Tales from a Rolltop Desk
TALES FROM A ROLLTOP DESK
BY CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
FRONTISPIECE BY WALTER JACK DUNCAN
GARDEN CITY, N. Y., AND TORONTO DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1921
COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
Copyright, 1918, by P. F. Collier and Son Company, The Crowell Publishing Company, and Smart Set Company, Inc.
Copyright, 1919, by The Metropolitan Publications, Inc.
Copyright, 1920, by New York Evening Post, Inc., and George H. Doran Company
Copyright, 1921, by George H. Doran Company, The Frank A. Munsey Company, and The Outlook Company
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
The original responsibility for some of these stories—or at any rate the original copyright—was allotted as follows: "The Prize Package," Collier's Weekly (1918); "Urn Burial," Every Week (1918); "The Climacteric," The Smart Set (1918); "The Pert Little Hat," The Metropolitan (1919); "The Battle of Manila Envelopes," The Bookman (1920); "The Commutation Chophouse," The New York Evening Post (1920); "The Curious Case of Kenelm Digby," The Bookman (1921); "Gloria and the Garden of Sweden," Munsey's (1921); "Punch and Judy," The Outlook (1921).
All but one of these publications are still in existence. To their editors and owners the author expresses his indebtedness and his congratulation.
TALES FROM A ROLLTOP DESK
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
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 1957, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 66 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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Knickerbocker Gallery/Too Much a Change

Layout 2
C A Bristed
Too Much of a Change.
By C. A. Bristed.
# Kogoshūi

English-language translations of 古語拾遺 include:
# Caledonia (Burns, 'Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon')

"Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon"
* "Caladonia", in Caladonia (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Caledonia", in Caledonia (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Their groves o' sweet myrtle", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Ewe-boughts Marion (1)/Caledonia

CALADONIA.
Their groves o’ sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming simmer exhale their perfume, ​Far dearer to me yon lone glen o’ green brecken, Wi’ the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom, Far dearer to me are yon humble green bowers, Where the blue-bell and ⟨gowan⟩ lurk lowly unseen, For there, lightly tripping, among the wild flowers A-listning the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valley, And auld Caladonia’s blast on the wave; Their sweet scented woodlands, that skirt the proud palace, What are they?—the hunt o’ the tyrant and slave, The slave spicy forests, and gold bubbling fountains The brave Caladonian views wi’ disdain; He wanders as free as the wind on his mountain, Save Love’s willing fetters—the chains of his Jean
# The Book of Scottish Song/Their groves o' sweet myrtle

Their groves o' sweet myrtle.
[Written by Burns in May, 1795, for Sir. Thomson's collection. Tune, "Humours of Glen." "Burns," says Dr. Currie, "wrote professedly for the peasantry of his country, and by them their native dialect is universally relished. To a numerous class of the natives of Scotland of another description, it may also be considered as attractive in a different point of view. Estranged from their native soil, and spread over foreign lands, the idiom of their country unites with the sentiments and descriptions on which it is employed, to recall to their minds the interesting scenes of infancy and youth—to awaken many pleasing, many tender recollections. For Scotsmen of this description more particularly, Burns seems to have written his song, Their groves o' sweet myrtle, a beautiful strain, which, it may be confidently predicted, will be sung with equal or superior interest on the banks of the Ganges or of the Mississippi, as on those of the Tay or the Tweed."]
Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume, Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan, Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom; Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen; For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers, A-listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys, And cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave; Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace, What are they? The haunt of the tyrant and slave! The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave Caledonian views with disdain; He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains, Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean!
# The Game of Deer Stalking

Rules from a board game in the John Johnson Collection of Printed Ephemera at the Bodleian Library, Oxford
THE GAME OF DEER STALKING. For any number of Players.
RULES.
One player takes the deer, the others divide the five sportsmen between them. The deer is placed on the round dots in the centre of game, and the sportsmen on each of the five dots nearest the ferry, but not across the water.
The moves are from dot to dot along the lines, from one dot to another is a move; and you can cross from one line to another only where the cross line is drawn. The sportsmen cannot cross any of the pieces of water at all; the deer can cross the water along the dotted lines.
The deer wins the game if he succeeds in crossing the water and getting into the mountainous country at top of game; the sportsmen win the game if they surround the deer and force him on to the dot at either of the two houses, or on either the two dots at the cone, or on the centre dot, so that he cannot escape.
The deer moves first, and then each of the sportsmen, and the the deer again and so on. Neither the deer or sportsmen can be taken, and all can move either backwards or forwards, but only one move at a time.
This work was published before January 1, 1929 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 95 years or less since publication.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Caladonia/Caladonia

CALADONIA.
Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming simmer exhale their perfume, Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green brecken, Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom, Far dearer to me are yon humble green bowers, Where the blue bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen, For there, lightly tripping, among the wild flowers A-listning the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valley, And auld Caladonia's blast on the wave; Their sweet scented woodlands, that skirt the proud palace, What are they?—the hunt o' the tyrant and slave, The slave spicy forests, and gold bubbling fountains The brave Cadadonian views wi' disdain; He wanders as free as the wind on his mountain, Save Love's willing fetters—the chains of his Jean
# The Hallow fair (2)/Ungrateful Nanny

UNGRATEFUL NANNY.
Did ever a swain a nymph adore, as I ungrateful Nanny did? Was ever shepherd's heart so sore, or ever broken heart so true. My cheeks are swell'd with tears, but she Has never wet a cheek for me.
If Nanny call'd, did e'er I stay, or linger when she bid me run, She only had the word to say, and all she wish'd was quickly done, I always think of her, but she Does ne'er bestow a thought on me.
​To let her cows my clover taste have I not rose by break of day, Did ever Nanny's heifers fast. if Robin in his barn had hay. Tho' to my field, they welcome were, I ne'er was welcome yet to her.
If ever Nanny lost a sheep, I cheerfully did give her two; And I her lambs did safely keep within my fold in frost and snow: Have they not there from cold been free, But Nanny still is cold to me.
When Nanny to the well did come, 'twas I that did her pitchers fill; Full as they were I brought them home; her corn I carried to the mill; My bark did hear the seek but she, Will never bear a sight of me
To Nanny's poultry oats I give, I'm sure they always had the best; Within this week her pigeons have, eat up a peck of pease at least. Her little pigeons kiss but she, Will never take a kiss from me.
Must Robin always Nanny woo, and Nanny still on Robin frown, Alas! poor wretch, what shall I do, If Nanny does not love me soon. If no relief to me she'll bring. I'll hang me in her apron string.
# The Hallow fair (2)

Dated from external evidence.
The Hallow Fair;
To which are added,
⟨Queen⟩ Mary's Lamentation,
The Contented Lover,
Ungrateful Nanny,
Homeward Bound.
STIRLING:
Printed by W. Macnie.
1826.
* The Hallow Fair
* Queen Mary's Lamentation
* The Contented Lover
* Ungrateful Nanny
* Homeward Bound
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
# Tragedy of Sir James the Rose (1815)

The Tragedy of
Sir James
THE ROSE
To which is added,
Hearts of Oak, &c.
Queen Mary's Lament,
Fair Suſannah.
Falkirk:—Printed by T. Johnston.
1815.
* Sir James the Rose
* Hearts of Oak
* Mary, Queen of Scots' Lament
* Fair Susannah
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
# Queen Mary's Lamentation (song)

* related authors: Mary Stuart
* sister projects: Wikidata item
This anonymous song is of unknown origin.
* "Queen Mary's Lamentation" in The Tired Soldier (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Greenock
* "Queen Mary's Lamentation" in Hallow fair (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Mary, Queen of Scots' Lament" in The Tragedy of Sir James the Rose (1815), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Queen Mary's Lamentation", in The Lass of Ballochmyle (1819), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Queen Mary's lamentation" in Queen Mary's lamentation (1823), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Queen Mary's Lamentation" in Queen Mary's lamentation (1824), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Queen Mary's Lamentation" in Hallow fair (1826), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Queen Mary's lamentation" in The Hallow fair (1826), a chapbook printed in Stirling
# Hallow fair

The Hallow Fair;
To which are added,
Queen Mary's Lamentation,
The Contented Lover,
Ungrateful Nanny,
Homeward Bound.
STIRLING: Printed by W. Macnie. 1826.
* The Hallow Fair
* Queen Mary's Lamentation
* The Contented Lover
* Ungrateful Nanny
* Homeward Bound
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
# Caladonia/A Patriotic Song

A PATRIOTIC SONG, tune—Jonny Cofe.
My Brethren, now we're met again, To show what spirit we maintain, And that we ever are the same, To meet the French in the morning,
Chorus.
Or are your boats all ready yet,; Upon our shores, when ye think fit, We'll meet ye in the morning.
Tho' many powers you have undone, And nearly Europe over-run, The reason's obvious as the sun, They lay o'er lang in the morning. Then Bonaparte, &c.
You're well aware it is the case, Where'er you saw a British face, You've found it to your sad disgrace, That they should rise in the morning. Then Bonaparte, &c.
Some of our patriots, in the dark, May try to aid you in your "wark;" But, muzzl’d, they can only bark, And loungers prove in the morning. Then Bonaparte, &c.   Your piteous measures to fulfil, Against our trade you try your skill; But that won’t bring us to your will While we can rise in the morning. Then Bonaparte, &c.
My Brethren, then, just to display Our sentiments on such a day, Permit, me, in your name, to say We’ll meet the French in the morning. Then Bonaparte, &c.