OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Pepke v. Cronan

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
155 U.S. 100
Pepke v. Cronan
Marshall A. Spooner and Armstrong Taylor, for appellant.
W. H. Standish, Atty. Gen., N. D., for appellee.
Mr. Chief Justice FULLER, after stating the facts in the foregoing language, delivered the opinion of the court.

## Notes

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
# Pepke v. Cronan/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
155 U.S. 100
Pepke v. Cronan
It was insisted upon the argument that the judgment in contempt was not appealable. State v. Davis, 2 N. D. 461, 51 N. W. 942. But it was conceded that the validity of the law and of the sentence could be tested by the supreme court of the state on certiorari or habeas corpus, and no reason was suggested why, if the judgment of the district court was the final judgment of the highest court of the state in which a decision in the matter could be had, a writ of error from this court might not be applied for.
Without considering the merits of the questions discussed, the judgment must be affirmed upon the authority of Ex parte Fonda, 117 U.S. 516, 6 Sup. Ct. 848; In re Wood, 140 U.S. 278, 11 Sup. Ct. 738; Cook v. Hart, 146 U.S. 183, 13 Sup. Ct. 40; New York v. Eno, 15 Sup. Ct. 30, and cases cited. Judgment affirmed.

## Notes

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
# Peoria Railway Company v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
263 U.S. 528
Peoria Railway Company v. United States
Argued: Nov. 20, 21, 1923. --- Decided: Jan 7, 1924
Mr. R. V. Fletcher, of Chicago, Ill., for appellant.
Messrs. Blackburn Esterline, of Chicago, Ill., and P. J. Farrell, of Washington, D. C., for the United States.
Mr. R. Granville Curry, of Washington, D. C., for Interstate Commerce Commission.
[Argument of Counsel from page 529 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Donald Evans, of Des Moinse, Iowa, for Minneapolis 3 St. L. R. Co.
Mr. Justice BRANDEIS delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

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
# Peoria Tribe of Indians of Oklahoma v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
390 U.S. 468
Peoria Tribe of Indians of Oklahoma et al. v. United States
Certiorari to the United States Court of Claims
No. 219. Argued: January 15, 1968 --- Decided: April 1, 1968
Petitioner Indian Tribe and the United States entered into a treaty in 1854, pursuant to which certain tribal lands were to be sold at public auction by the United States for the Tribe's benefit. The President could at any time pay to the Tribe any or all of the proceeds, with the balance to be invested in bonds, "the interest to be annually paid" to the Tribe. The Indian Claims Commission found that the United States violated the treaty by selling most of the lands in 1857 by private sales at prices lower than would have prevailed at public auction, and found the difference to be $172,726. Petitioner sought review in the Court of Claims on the issue of the measure of its damage for the treaty's violation, contending that the United States is liable for that sum plus the amount it would have produced if invested and the income "annually paid." The Court of Claims rejected this contention.
Held: The Government's obligation under the treaty was to invest the sum and to pay its annual income to the Tribe "until the money is paid over," and the case is remanded to the Court of Claims for further remand to the Indian Claims Commission to determine, not interest on the claim, but the measure of damages resulting from the Government's failure to invest the proceeds that would have been received had the treaty not been violated. Pp. 471-473.
177 Ct. Cl. 762, 369 F. 2d 1001, reversed and remanded.
Jack Joseph argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs was Louis L. Rochmes.
Robert S. Rifkind argued the cause for the United States. With him on the brief were Solicitor General Griswold, Acting Assistant Attorney General Harrison and Roger P. Marquis.

## Notes

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
# Poems (Nealds)/Song (Where is the beamy smile, love)

I will not take to myself the credit of composing the above lines, as I literally heard them in a dream, sung by a voice, alas! long since hushed; but it opened the flood-gates of melancholy recollection, and gave rise to the following verses.
# Poems (Taggart)

"Now sleep spreads wide his downy wings"
POEMS,
BY
CYNTHIA TAGGART.
SECOND EDITION.
CAMBRIDGE:
PRINTED BY CHARLES FOLSOM.
1834.
ERRATUM. Page 14, line 8, for parting read panting
CONTENTS.
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
# Pleased to Meet You

* Other books by the same author
* Fiction
* Parnassus on Wheels
* The Haunted Bookshop
* Kathleen
* Tales from a Rolltop Desk
* Where the Blue Begins
* Pandora Lifts the Lid
* (with Don Marquis)
* Thunder on the Left
* The Arrow
* Essays
* Shandygaff
* Mince Pie
* Pipefuls
* Plum Pudding
* Travels in Philadelphia
* The Powder of Sympathy
* Inward Ho!
* Religio Journalistici
* The Romany Stain
* Poetry
* Songs for a Little House
* The Rocking Horse
* Hide and Seek
* Chimneysmoke
* Translations from the Chinese
* Parsons' Pleasure
* Plays
* One Act Plays
Pleased to Meet You
By Christopher Morley
Twelfth Night
Garden City · New York Doubleday, Page & Company at the Country Life Press 1927
First edition
To WILLIAM McFEE
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
* Chapter 9
* Chapter 10
* Chapter 11
* Chapter 12
* Chapter 13
* Chapter 14
* Chapter 15
* Chapter 16
* Chapter 17
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
# Pleased to Meet You/Chapter 16

One great advantage of stone stairs is that they don't creak. So the Colonel reflected, once more in his brown tweeds, as he cautiously felt his way down the iron hand-rail. He was in stocking feet, groping through the moonlight. He sat on the bottom step to put on his shoes. While doing so he had a sudden fright. The major domo emerged noiselessly from shadow.
"Don't you ever go to bed, Romsteck?"
"I was expecting you, sir. Is there anything I can do?"
"A clean handkerchief, perhaps. I think I caught a little cold in the moat."
"Here you are, sir. Also I've got some dry money for you. I take it that the bills got wet. Wet money seems suspicious, somehow, sir."
"Jove, you think of everything. I dare say you're just rolling in coin."
​"Not at all, sir. I took this from Herr Quackenbush's trousers, while he was on the terrace in his nightclothes."
"That won't do. I can't rob the man."
"Certainly not, sir. If you will kindly return the wet ones I'll dry them in the kitchen and put them back in his pocket in the morning."
"You're an excellent fellow, Romsteck," said the Colonel rising. "Well, no loitering."
"Beg pardon, sir, but are you really leaving?"
"Bet your life I am; and pronto; it's one o'clock now."
"Look here, sir, you stay. We'll fix that M.P. somehow. You're just what we need. We could get up a revolution and make you Grand Duke. Begging your pardon, sir, but all the chambermaids were suggesting it."
"Delightful of you, old son. No, that splash in the moat cleared my head. I was getting a bit fantastic. That's my trouble, they say I'm not quite right in my head."
"None of the Grand Dukes ever were. That's why we were all so happy."
​"I've got to beat it. You see, Romsteck, I'm not what you suppose."
"No, sir. I never supposed you were."
"You're charming at dialogue, but there isn't much time. Remember I've got to go all the way round through the subway."
"Through the passage?" said Romsteck, startled. "You know about that? But you can't go that way, that's where we've got the M.P. locked up."
"Sure," said the imperturbable Colonel. "He's going with me. You don't think I'm going to leave him behind to poison my memory with the Fräulein, do you?"
"Don't go!" appealed the major domo. "I don't mind, sir, if you are a bit mad. It doesn't matter. It'll do us good. Please, sir, for the good of the country, don't leave us to the mercy of all these perfectly sane officials. The League of Nations will put it all over us without you to take care of things."
"Damn it, man," cried the Colonel in vexation, "you're as mad as I am. Do you suppose ​I want to go, to leave the nubile Nyla and the 1865 cognac and all the fun? I don't want to make you morbid, but I'm not here from the League of Nations or the Department of Public Safety or anyone else. I'm just on my own, and the game's up. Come, we're wasting time."
"Very good, sir. I was afraid you couldn't be persuaded. I made up a little packet of sandwiches for you, and a flask of the 1865."
Romsteck handed him a parcel from a table in the hall, then lit a candle, and they set off for the cellar.
# Poems (Toke)/Good Friday hymn

April 14, 1843.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (And didst thou, then, unchanged, unmoved)

June, 1837.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (And now my task is done! The last pale flower)

Glasslough, March 3, 1837.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (Husband, dear husband! since I first for thee)

October 6, 1844.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (And now accept once more from me)

August 6, 1835.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (Bright shine the dewdrops at the dawning hour)

September 9, 1850.
# Poems (Toke)/Lines (Dost thou not feel, dear Love, how every day)

October 6, 1846.
# Poems (Argent)/On a Portrait of the Bishop of St. Albans, taken with his Dog "Sheira"

POEMS.
# Poems of Italy: selections from the Odes of Giosue Carducci/To Giuseppe Garibaldi

Layout 2
November 3, mdccclxxx.
ALONE rides the Dictator at the head Of the advancing mournful band, withdrawn Into his thoughts and silent; round him earth And sky alike are leaden, squalid, chill.
The heavy plashing of his horse's hoofs
In the deep mire was audible; behind,
The cadenced fall of footsteps and the sighs
Breathed from heroic breasts into the night.
But from each clod livid with slaughter's stain, From every blood-dewed bush, wherever lay The poorest fragment or the smallest, torn, O you Italian mothers, from your hearts—
There, like a star a flame sprang up, and rose
A sound of many voices chanting hymns;
Far in the background shone Olympic Rome,
And through the air a mighty pæan ran.
Mentana saw proclaimed the ages' shame,
Cæsar's and Peter's infamous embrace;
Thou hast, O Garibaldi, at Mentana
On Peter and on Cæsar set thy foot.
O thou, of Aspromonté splendid rebel, O glorious victor of Mentana thou, Come then, and tell Palermo's tale and Rome's
Unto Camillus in the Capitol!"—
Thus a mysterious voice of spirits ran
Solemnly through the Italian sky that day
When all the vile lamented in their fright—
Curs that shrank cowering from the avenging lash.
Now, Italy adores thee. A new Rome
Is hailing thee her latest Romulus.
Thou dost ascend, divine one; round thy head
There cannot come the silences of death.
Over the common gulf of little souls
Refulgent art thou, by the ages called
Up to the lofty heights and councils pure
Of gods and heroes watching o'er our land.
Thou dost ascend. And Dante, looking, says To Virgil: "Ne'er a nobler hero form Did we conceive ...” Then Livy, with a smile, "To my domain, O poets, he belongs.
"Yea, written in Italian civil story The record of tenacious daring stands— Daring that had its root in justice, reached To loftiest heights, and in the ideal sought light."
Glory to thee, O father! In the grim Shud'rings of Etna breathes thy lion heart And in the whirlwinds of the Alps, let loose Against barbarian foe and tyrant's rule.
Serenely shines from thy calm heart diffused, Light in the sea's blue laughter and the sky's, In all the flowering Mays, and o'er the tombs Of heroes, and their fair memorial marbles.

## Notes

​Written probably on an anniversary of the battle of Mentana, which occurred on November 3d, 1867. "Peter and Cæsar," of course, represent church and empire leagued together against Italy, who is struggling to throw off the yoke of both.
# Poems of Italy: selections from the Odes of Giosue Carducci/Rome

Layout 2
ROME, on thine air I cast my soul adrift,
To soar sublime; do thou, O Rome, receive
This soul of mine and flood it with thy light.
Not curiously concerned with little things To thee I come; who is there that would seek For butterflies beneath the Arch of Titus?
********* Do thou but shed thine azure round me, Rome, Illumine me with sunlight; all-divine Are the sun's rays in thy vast azure spaces.
They bless alike the dusky Vatican, The beauteous Quirinal, and ancient there The Capitol, amongst all ruins holy.
And from thy seven hills thou stretchest forth Thine arms, O Rome, to meet the love diffused, A radiant splendor, through the quiet air.
The solitudes of the Campagna form That nuptial-couch; and thou, O hoar Soratte, Thou art the witness in eternity.
O Alban Moutains, sing ye smilingly The epithalamium; green Tusculum Sing thou; and sing, O fertile Tivoli!
Whilst I from the Janiculum look down With wonder on the city's pictured form— A mighty ship, launched toward the world's dominion.
O ship, whose poop rising on high attains The infinite, bear with thee on thy passage My soul unto the shores of mystery!
Let me, when fall those twilights radiant With the white jewels of the coming night, Quietly linger on the Flaminian Way;
Then may the hour supreme, in fleeing, brush With silent wing my forehead, while I pass Unknown through this serenity of peace,
Pass to the Councils of the Shades, and see Once more the lofty spirits of the Fathers Conversing there beside the sacred river.

## Notes

​The asterisks after the second stanza mark four verses which I have omitted from my translation, because they consist of political allusions that to an ​American reader could mean nothing. For the rest, the poem requires no annotation. The original is one of the most harmoniously beautiful compositions in the whole range of modern Italian literature. Only one who, like the poet, has looked down from the Janiculum on the "pictured form" of the Eternal City, who has felt the wonder of her grandeur and the immortal loveliness of her decay, can fully realize how exquisitely, how subtly her charm pervades each word of the poet's Ave. The essential spirit of Rome is there—of that Rome who is as truly Mistress of the World to-day, in her empire over men's hearts, as when of old she ruled their lives.
# Poems of John Donne

Two-volume edition of the poems of John Donne edited by E. K. Chambers and with an introduction by George Salisbury.
Layout 2
POEMS
OF
JOHN DONNE.
Volume 1 Volume 2
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/My Old Kentucky Home

My Old Kentucky Home.
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home; 'Tis summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn-top's ripe, and the meadow's in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day. The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy and bright; By-'n'-by hard times comes a-knocking at the door:— Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!
Weep no more, my lady, O, weep no more to-day! We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home, For the old Kentucky home, far away.
They hunt no more for the 'possum and the coon, On the meadow, the hill, and the shore; They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon, On the bench by the old cabin door. The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart, With sorrow, where all was delight; The time has come when the darkeys have to part:— Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!
The head must bow, and the back will have to bend, Wherever the darkey may go; A few more days, and the trouble all will end, In the field where the sugar-canes grow. ​A few more days for to tote the weary load,— No matter, 'twill never be light; A few more days till we totter on the road:— Then my old Kentucky home, good-night!
Weep no more, my lady, O, weep no more to-day! We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home, For the old Kentucky home, far away.
Stephen Collins Foster.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Ode to a Skylark

Ode to a Skylark.
"Ode to a Skylark," by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822), is usually assigned to "grammar grades" of schools. It is included here out of respect to a boy of eleven years who was more impressed with these lines than with any other lines in any poem:
"Like a poet hidden, In the light of thought Singing songs unbidden Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not."
Hail to thee, blithe spirit— Bird thou never wert— That from heaven or near it Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
​Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.
All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.
What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow-clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody:—
Like a poet hidden In the light of thought; ​Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.
Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus hymeneal Or triumphal chaunt, Matched with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt— A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now!
Percy Bysshe Shelley.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Old Folks at Home

Old Folks at Home.
Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere's wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home.
All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I roam; Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home!
All round de little farm I wandered When I was young, Den many happy days I squandered, Many de songs I sung. ​When I was playing wid my brudder Happy was I; Oh, take me to my kind old mudder! Dere let me live and die.
One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my memory rushes, No matter where I rove. When will I see de bees a-humming All round de comb? When will I hear de banjo tumming, Down in my good old home?
All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I roam; Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home!
Stephen Collins Foster.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Moly

Moly.
"Moly" (mo 'ly), by Edith M. Thomas (1850-), is the best possible presentation of the value of integrity. This poem ranks with "Sir Galahad," if not above it. It is a stroke of genius, and every American ought to be proud of it. Every time my boys read "Odysseus" or the story of Ulysses with me we read or learn "Moly." The plant moly grows in the United States as well as in Europe.
Traveller, pluck a stem of moly, If thou touch at Circe's isle,— Hermes' moly, growing solely To undo enchanter's wile! When she proffers thee her chalice,— Wine and spices mixed with malice,— When she smites thee with her staff To transform thee, do thou laugh! Safe thou art if thou but bear The least leaf of moly rare. Close it grows beside her portal, Springing from a stock immortal, Yes! and often has the Witch Sought to tear it from its niche; But to thwart her cruel will The wise God renews it still. Though it grows in soil perverse, Heaven hath been its jealous nurse, And a flower of snowy mark Springs from root and sheathing dark; Kingly safeguard, only herb That can brutish passion curb! Some do think its name should be Shield-Heart, White Integrity. Traveller, pluck a stem of moly, If thou touch at Circe's isle.— ​Hermes' moly, growing solely To undo enchanter's wile!
Edith M. Thomas.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/My Shadow

My Shadow.
"My Shadow," by Robert Louis Stevenson" (1850-94), is one of the most popular short poems extant. I have taught it to a great many very young boys, and not one has ever tried to evade learning it. Older pupils like it equally well.
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow— Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.
​He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me, he's a coward, you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
Robert Louis Stevenson.