OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The New Student's Reference Work/Dodge, Mary Abigail

See also Mary Abigail Dodge on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
Dodge, Mary Abigail, an American author, born in Hamilton, Mass., about 1830. She was an instructor in the high-school at Hartford, Conn., and afterwards became a governess at Washington, D. C. She also wrote frequently for magazines under the name of Gail Hamilton, derived from the last syllable of her middle name and the name of her birthplace. She wrote several books, among them Country Living and Country Thinking, Gala Days, Wool Gathering, Red Letter Days and A Battle of the Books. She died in Massachusetts on Aug. 17, 1896.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Dodo

See also Dodo on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
Dodo, a bird of curious and ungainly form, extinct since the close of the 17th century. The dodo was a large, clumsy bird weighing from forty to fifty pounds, found only on the islands of Mauritius, Bourbon and Rodrigues. By its structure it was related to the living pigeons. It had a round, fat body, a tail consisting of a few curly feathers, a large head and an enormous bill, the upper part of which was hooked over the lower. Having very imperfect wings, it was unable to fly and was killed by the sailors in large numbers for food. After dogs and hogs were introduced into the islands, about 1644, they began killing the young of the dodo and thereby hastened its extermination. A living dodo was in London in 1638, and was sketched by a number of artists.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Dnieper

See also Dnieper River on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
Dnieper (nē′ pẽr), a river of Russia and the most important river of Europe, next to the Volga and the Danube. It rises at the foot of Voldai Hills, in the government of Smolensk, flows south to Kiev, and finally into the Black Sea. It is about 1,200 miles long, and has several large tributaries, all of which are navigable; but, owing to many natural obstructions, it is not so important for commerce as it otherwise would be. The Russian government has greatly improved the course of the river by taking away many of the obstructions and by building canals around some of the cataracts. Canals connect the Dnieper by means of its tributaries with the Duna of Niemen and Bog, and thus join the Black and Baltic Seas. It passes through the richest provinces of Russia, and at Smolensk is covered with ice from November to April. There is a fine suspension bridge, half a mile long, at Kiev. The river was anciently known as the Borysthenes, and was thought to be the largest river in the world, except the Nile.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Dniester

See also Dniester River on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
Dniester (nēs′ ter), a river of Galicia, in eastern Europe, rises in the Carpathian Mountains and flows southeastward into Russia, entering the Black Sea about 30 miles south of Odessa. It is about 760 miles long, the chief towns on its banks being Mohileff, Bender and Akerman. Navigation is interrupted by falls between Yampol and Bender, though an artificial channel permits the passage of small boats. In February and June there are severe floods, often raising the level of the river 20 feet and causing great damage along its banks by the swiftness of its current.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Docks

See also Dry dock on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
Docks are basins for receiving ships, and are of two kinds, wet and dry. A wet dock is a basin in which ships load and unload their cargoes. Where the tides cause great changes in the level of the water, the dock is walled in and the water inside is thus kept at one level. Dry docks are of two kinds: the stationary dock and the floating dock. They are used in order to get at that part of ships which is under water, in order to mend them. The stationary or graving-dock, as it is sometimes called, is made of stone or timber, the sides rising in steps. The entrance is closed by gates, and after the ship has entered the dock the water is pumped out, leaving the ship resting on timbers arranged for that purpose. Floating docks are of various sorts, their object being to raise vessels out of the water. One of these, which may be given as an example, is made of iron in the form of a long box without ends. Inside are compartments filled with water, causing the whole to sink below the bottom of the ship, which is then towed on to it. The water is then pumped out of the compartments, thus allowing the dock to rise with the ship upon it. Among the finest wet docks are those at London, Liverpool, Havre, Antwerp and Brooklyn, N. Y. All ports of any size have dry docks. One of the most wonderful feats of navigation was the towing of the dry-dock Dewey from the United States to Manila via Suez Canal, in 1907. See Harbors and Docks, by L. F. Vernon-Harcourt.
# The Pentamerone, or The Story of Stories/Second Day

Second Day
The Dawn had gone forth to grease the wheels of the Sun's chariot, and, with the fatigue of stirring the fat into the wheelbox with a stick, had grown as red as a rosy apple, when Taddeo, after stretching his limbs, called the Slave; and dressing themselves in a few seconds, they went down into the garden, where they found the ten women already arrived. Then, after gathering for each of them some fresh figs, which with their beggar's jacket, gallows heads and ladies' tear-drops, made every one's mouth water, they began a thousand sports to cheat the time until the banquet was ready; among which they did not omit either 'Anca Nicola,' or 'Hopscotch,' or 'Look-ye, wife,' or 'Hide and seek,' or 'Comrade I'm wounded,' or 'Proclamation and command,' or 'Welcome, master,' or 'Rentinola my Rentinola,' or 'Close the cask,' or 'Jump a yard,' or 'Stone in the bosom,' ​or 'Sca-fish,' or 'Angel,' or 'Anola tranola,' or 'King Macebearer,' or 'Blind cat,' or 'The lamp to the lamp,' or 'Draw my curtain,' or 'Long-beam,' or 'Hen and chickens,' or 'The old man is not come,' or 'Leap-frog,' or 'Ride a cheriy-stone,' or 'Mannikin leap!' or 'The Robbers,' or 'Come hither, come hither,' or 'Who has the needle and thread?' or 'Bird, bird, an iron handle,' or 'Wine or vinegar,' or Open, open the door for poor Gosshawk!'
But the time being at length come for the feast, they all seated themselves at table; and when they had eaten their fill, the Prince bade Zeza bear herself like a brave woman and begin her story; whereupon Zeza, who had her head so full of stories that they overflowed from her lips, calling them over one by one, selected as the best that which I will now tell you.
* ↑ Depicting a ripe fig, with a cracked skin, a bent stalk, and drops of juice upon it.
* ↑ Blindman's Buff'?
* ↑ i.e. 'Frog in the middle'?—The Neapolitan names for these games, and remarks on them, I shall probably give in the Notes to this volume.
# The Pima Indians/Esthetic arts/Dancing

Personal Decoration - Ornamentation - Musical Instruments - Dancing - Festivals - Athletic Sports - Games
ESTHETIC ARTS
Dancing
Dancing was frequently indulged in by both sexes and was accompanied by song, together with instrumental music furnished by the basket drum and the rattle. The dancers stood in a circle with arms extended across the shoulders of those adjoining. This position did not permit much freedom, and movements were confined to stamping the feet and bending the body. When food was plentiful dances might occur at any time. Their number increased and their moral character sadly deteriorated as the men relaxed their vigilance after peace was made with the Apaches. The energy formerly expended on the warpath was then wasted in debauchery. The dances began in the morning and lasted all day. Both men and women came with freshly painted faces and bodies, the women with their hair neatly dressed. Each woman brought a contribution of food in the form of mesquite dumplings, corn and wheat pinole or tortillas, meat, and the like. Throughout the day a few at a time stopped to eat, so that the dancing and the feasting both proceeded without interruption. For an account of the war dances, see page 205; puberty dance, page 182.
# The Outlet (Adams)

* Preface
* Opening The Campaign
* Organizing The Forces
* Receiving At Los Lobos
* Mingling With The Exodus
* Red River Station
* Camp Supply
* When Greek Meets Greek
* En Passant
* At Sheriff's Creek
* A Family Reunion
* All In The Day's Work
* Marshaling The Forces
* Justice In The Saddle
* Turning The Tables
* Tolleston Butts In
* Crossing The Niobrara
* Water-Bound
* The Little Missouri
* In Quarantine
* On The Just And The Unjust
* Fort Buford
* A Soldier's Honor
* Kangarooed
* The Winter Of Our Discontent
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 1935, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 88 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 Outlet

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Outlet."
* sister projects: 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.
* The Outlet, by Andy Adams
* The Outlet, poem by Emily Dickinson
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/The Hut by the Black Swamp

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 68–70
THE HUT BY THE BLACK SWAMP
Now comes the fierce north-easter, bound About with clouds and racks of rain, And dry, dead leaves go whirling round In rings of dust, and sigh like pain Across the plain.
Now twilight, with a shadowy hand Of wild dominionship, doth keep Strong hold of hollow straits of land, And watery sounds are loud and deep By gap and steep.
Keen, fitful gusts, that fly before The wings of storm when day hath shut Its eyes on mountains, flaw by flaw, Fleet down by whistling box-tree butt, Against the hut.
And, ringed and girt with lurid pomp, Far eastern cliffs start up, and take Thick steaming vapours from a swamp That lieth like a great blind lake, Of face opaque.
​The moss that, like a tender grief, About an English ruin clings— What time the wan autumnal leaf Faints, after many wanderings On windy wings—
That gracious growth, whose quiet green Is as a love in days austere, Was never seen—hath never been— On slab or roof, deserted here For many a year.
Nor comes the bird whose speech is song— Whose songs are silvery syllables That unto glimmering woods belong, And deep, meandering mountain dells By yellow wells.
But rather here the wild-dog halts, And lifts the paw, and looks, and howls; And here, in ruined forest vaults, Abide dim, dark, death-featured owls, Like monks in cowls.
Across this hut the nettle runs, And livid adders make their lair In corners dank from lack of suns, And out of fœtid furrows stare The growths that scare.
Here Summer's grasp of fire is laid On bark and slabs that rot, and breed Squat ugly things of deadly shade, The scorpion, and the spiteful seed Of centipede.
Unhallowed thunders, harsh and dry, And flaming noontides, mute with heat, Beneath the breathless, brazen sky, Upon these rifted rafters beat With torrid feet.
​And night by night the fitful gale Doth carry past the bittern's boom, The dingo's yell, the plover's wail, While lumbering shadows start, and loom, And hiss through gloom.
No sign of grace—no hope of green, Cool-blossomed seasons marks the spot; But chained to iron doom, I ween, 'Tis left, like skeleton, to rot Where ruth is not.
For on this hut hath murder writ, With bloody fingers, hellish things; And God will never visit it With flower or leaf of sweet-faced Springs, Or gentle wings.
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/Syrinx

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 125–126
SYRINX
A heap of low, dark, rocky coast, Unknown to foot or feather! A sea-voice moaning like a ghost; And fits of fiery weather!
The flying Syrinx turned and sped By dim, mysterious hollows, Where night is black, and day is red, And frost the fire-wind follows.
Strong, heavy footfalls in the wake Came up with flights of water: The gods were mournful for the sake Of Ladon's lovely daughter.
For when she came to spike and spine, Where reef and river gather, Her feet were sore with shell and chine; She could not travel farther.
​Across a naked strait of land Blown sleet and surge were humming; But trammelled with the shifting sand, She heard the monster coming!
A thing of hoofs and horns and lust: A gaunt, goat-footed stranger! She bowed her body in the dust And ealled on Zeus to change her;
And ealled on Hermes, fair and fleet, And her of hounds and quiver, To hide her in the thickets sweet That sighed above the river.
So he that sits on flaming wheels, And rules the sea and thunder, Caught up the satyr by the heels And tore his skirts asunder.
While Areas, of the glittering plumes, Took Ladon's daughter lightly, And set her in the gracious glooms That mix with moon-mist nightly;
And touched her lips with wild-flower wine, And changed her body slowly, Till, in soft reeds of song and shine, Her life was hidden wholly.
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/The Last of His Tribe

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 96–97
THE LAST OF HIS TRIBE
He crouches, and buries his face on his knees, And hides in the dark of his hair; For he cannot look up to the storm-smitten trees, Or think of the loneliness there— Of the loss and the loneliness there.
​The wallaroos grope through the tufts of the grass, And turn to their coverts for fear; But he sits in the ashes and lets them pass Where the boomerangs sleep with the spear— With the nullah, the sling and the spear.
Uloola, behold him! The thunder that breaks On the tops of the rocks with the rain, And the wind which drives up with the salt of the lakes, Have made him a hunter again— A hunter and fisher again.
For his eyes have been full with a smouldering thought; But he dreams of the hunts of yore, And of foes that he sought, and of fights that he fought With those who will battle no more— Who will go to the battle no more.
It is well that the water which tumbles and fills, Goes moaning and moaning along; For an echo rolls out from the sides of the hills, And he starts at a wonderful song— At the sound of a wonderful song.
And he sees, through the rents of the scattering fogs, The corroboree warlike and grim, And the lubra who sat by the fire on the logs, To watch, like a mourner, for him— Like a mother and mourner for him.
Will he go in his sleep from these desolate lands, Like a chief, to the rest of his race, With the honey-voiced woman who beckons and stands, And gleams like a dream in his face— Like a marvellous dream in his face?
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/The Wild Kangaroo

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 31–32
THE WILD KANGAROO
The rain-clouds have gone to the deep— The East like a furnace doth glow; And the day-spring is flooding the steep, And sheening the landscape below. Oh, ye who are gifted with souls That delight in the music of birds, Come forth where the scattered mist rolls, And listen to eloquent words! Oh, ye who are fond of the sport, And would travel yon wilderness through, Gather—each to his place—for a life-stirring chase, In the wake of the wild Kangaroo! Gather—each to his place— For a life-stirring chase In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!
Beyond the wide rents of the fog, The trees are illumined with gold; And the bark of the shepherd's brave dog Shoots away from the sheltering fold. ​Down the depths of yon rock-border'd glade, A torrent goes foaming along; And the blind-owls retire into shade, And the bell-bird beginneth its song. By the side of that yawning abyss, Where the vapours are hurrying to, We will merrily pass, looking down to the grass For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo! We will merrily pass, Looking down to the grass For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo.
Ho, brothers, away to the woods; Euroka hath clambered the hill; But the morning there seldom intrudes, Where the night-shadows slumber on still. We will roam o'er these forest-lands wild, And thread the dark masses of vines, Where the winds, like the voice of a child, Are singing aloft in the pines, We must keep down the glee of our hounds; We must steal through the glittering dew; And the breezes shall sleep as we cautiously creep To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo. And the breezes shall sleep, As we cautiously creep To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.
When we pass through a stillness like death The swamp fowl and timorous quail, Like the leaves in a hurricane's breath, Will start from their nests in the vale; And the forester, snuffing the air, Will bound from his covert so dark, While we follow along in the rear, As arrows speed on to their mark! Then the swift hounds shall bring him to bay, And we'll send forth a hearty halloo, As we gather them all to be in at the fall— At the death of the wild Kangaroo! As we gather them all To be in at the fall— At the death of the wild Kangaroo!
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/Sydney Harbour

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 349–350
SYDNEY HARBOUR
Where Hornby, like a mighty fallen star, Burns through the darkness with a splendid ring Of tenfold light, and where the awful face Of Sydney's northern headland stares all night O'er dark, determined waters from the east, From year to year a wild, Titanic voice Of fierce aggressive sea shoots up and makes,— When storm sails high through drifts of driving sleet, And in the days when limpid waters glass December's sunny hair and forest face,— A roaring down by immemorial caves, A thunder in the everlasting hills.
But calm and lucid as an English lake, Beloved by beams and wooed by wind and wing, Shut in from tempest-trampled wastes of wave, And sheltered from white wraths of surge by walls— Grand ramparts founded by the hand of God, The lordly Harbour gleams. Yea, like a shield Of marvellous gold dropped in his fiery flight By some lost angel in the elder days, When Satan faced and fought Omnipotence, It shines amongst fair, flowering hills, and flows By dells of glimmering greenness manifold. And all day long, when soft-eyed Spring comes round With gracious gifts of bird and leaf and grass— And through the noon, when sumptuous Summer sleeps By yellowing runnels under beetling cliffs, This royal water blossoms far and wide With ships from all the corners of the world.
​And while sweet Autumn with her gipsy face Stands in the gardens, splashed from heel to thigh With spinning vine-blood—yea, and when the mild, Wan face of our Australian Winter looks Across the congregated southern fens, Then low, melodious, shell-like songs are heard Beneath proud hulls and pompous clouds of sail, By yellow beaches under lisping leaves And hidden nooks to Youth and Beauty dear, And where the ear may catch the counter-voice Of Ocean travelling over far, blue tracts.
Moreover, when the moon is gazing down Upon her lovely reflex in the wave, (What time she, sitting in the zenith, makes A silver silence over stirless woods), Then, where its echoes start at sudden bells, And where its waters gleam with flying lights, The haven lies, in all its beauty clad, More lovely even than the golden lakes The poet saw, while dreaming splendid dreams Which showed his soul the far Hesperides.
# The Poems of Henry Kendall/The Warrigal

Sydney: Angus & Robertson Ltd., pages 75–76
THE WARRIGAL
The warrigal's lair is pent in bare, Black rocks at the gorge's mouth; It is set in ways where Summer strays With the sprites of flame and drouth; But when the heights are touched with lights Of hoar-frost, sleet, and shine, His bed is made of the dead grass-blade And the leaves of the windy pine.
Through forest boles the storm-wind rolls, Vext of the sea-driv'n rain; And, up in the clift, through many a rift, The voices of torrents complain. The sad marsh-fowl and the lonely owl Are heard in the fog-wreaths grey, When the warrigal wakes, and listens, and takes To the woods that shelter the prey.
In the gully-deeps the blind creek sleeps, And the silver, showery moon Glides over the hills, and floats, and fills, And dreams in the dark lagoon; While halting hard by the station yard, Aghast at the hut-flame nigh, The warrigal yells—and flats and fells Are loud with his dismal cry.
​On the topmost peak of mountains bleak The south wind sobs, and strays Through moaning pine and turpentine, And the rippling runnel ways; And strong streams flow, and great mists go, Where the warrigal starts to hear The watch-dog's bark break sharp in the dark, And flees like a phantom of fear.
The swift rains beat, and the thunders fleet On the wings of the fiery gale, And down in the glen of pool and fen, The wild gums whistle and wail, As over the plains and past the chains Of waterholes glimmering deep, The warrigal flies from the shepherd's cries, And the clamour of dogs and sheep.
He roves through the lands of sultry sands, He hunts in the iron range, Untamed as surge of the far sea verge, And fierce and fickle and strange. The white man's track and the haunts of the black He shuns, and shudders to see; For his joy he tastes in lonely wastes Where his mates are torrent and tree.
# The New Student's Reference Work/H

See also H on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
​H (aitch), the eighth letter, is a quasi consonant formed in the same place as the vowel following. It is best known as the rough breathing, and differs in many respects from other breath-sounds. Abruptness is what most distinguishes it. It is silent in a few words, as hour, and is often dropped by uneducated English people. It is used with some consonants to form digraphs not in the alphabet, as sh or th. With others, as c or p, it is used to modify their sounds, as in charm or phantom. In some words h after c or g causes them to remain hard before e, i or y, as in chemistry, Ghibelline, chyle. Its form is that of the Greek eta.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Haarlem

See also Haarlem on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
​Haarlem (här′lem), the chief city of the province of North Holland, in the Netherlands, is ancient and interesting in many ways. It is intersected by an extensive system of canals, which bring the shipping through the streets of the city. The houses are built in the typical Dutch style, having gable ends and old-fashioned crow steps. Objects of interest are the old market, built in the 16th century, and the cathedral of St. Bavo, one of the most famous churches in the Netherlands. It was built in 1538, is 426 feet in length, and has a tower 253 feet in height. Haarlem is the seat of several noted scientific, theological and benevolent institutions. In the 15th century the city was famous for its cloth-weaving and brewing, containing in 1594 no less than 120 breweries. Later the weaving of silk, lace and damask was introduced by the French, and gave employment to 10,000 of the population. At the close of the 18th century these industries had greatly declined, and the population was reduced. Early in the 19th century Haarlem began to turn its attention to new lines of manufacture, and has greatly prospered. Population 70,299.
# The New Student's Reference Work/Guthrie, Okla.

See also Guthrie, Oklahoma on Wikipedia, and the disclaimer.
​Guth′rie, Okla., a town (founded in 1889), is the capital of Logan County, Oklahoma, situated on the Cimarron River, and on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fé and 'Frisco railroads. It is the center of a fine grazing-country, which also produces grains, potatoes, broom-corn etc. Though but recently converted from the prairie, and in 1890 having a population of only 5,333, it now is a city of 11,654 inhabitants. It contains several saw, flour and planing mills, carriage and furniture factories, cotton-gins, cotton seed-oil mills and railroad repair-shops. Besides excellent public schools, it has a $50,000 county high-school, St. Joseph's Academy and the Capitol University.