OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 4/Chapter 1

CHAP. I.
With all this learning upon Noses running perpetually in my father's facy—with so many family prejudices—and ten decads of such tales running on for ever along with them—how was it possible with such exquisite—was it a true nose?—That a man with such exquisite feelings as my father had, could bear the shock at all below stairs—or indeed above stairs, in any other posture, but the very posture I have described.
—Throw yourself down upon the bed, a dozen times—taking care only to place a looking-glass first in a chair on one side of it, before you do it—But was the ​stranger's nose a true nose—or was it a false one?
To tell that before-hand, madam, would be to do injury to one of the best tales in the christian world; and that is the tenth of the tenth decad which immediately follows this.
This tale, crieth Slawkenbergius somewhat exultingly, has been reserved by me for the concluding tale of my whole work; knowing right well, that when I shall have told it, and my reader shall have read it thro'—'twould be even high time for both of us to shut up the book; inasmuch, continues Slawkenbergius, as I know of no tale which could possibly ever go down after it.
—'Tis a tale indeed!
​This sets out with the first interview in the inn at Lyons, when Fernandez left the courteous stranger and his sister Julia alone in her chamber, and is overwritten,
The Intricacies of Diego and Julia.
Heavens! thou art a strange creature Slawkenbergius! what a whimsical view of the involutions of the heart of woman hast thou opened! how this can ever be translated, and yet if this specimen of Slawkenbergius's tales, and the exquisitiveness of his moral should please the world—translated shall a couple of volumes be.—Else, how this can ever be translated into good English, I have no sort of conception.—There seems in some passages to want a sixth sense to do it ​rightly.—What can he mean by the lambent pupilability of slow, low, dry chat, five notes below the natural tone,—which you know, madam, is little more than a whisper? The moment I pronounced the words, I could perceive an attempt towards a vibration in the strings, about the region of the heart.—The brain made no acknowledgment.—There's often no good understanding betwixt 'em.—I felt as if I understood it.—I had no ideas.—The movement could not be without cause.—I'm lost. I can make nothing of it,—unless, may it please your worships, the voice, in that case being little more than a whisper, unavoidably forces the eyes to approach not only within six inches of each other—but to look into the pupils—is not that dangerous?—But it can't be avoided—for to look up to the ​cieling, in that case the two chins unavoidably meet—and to look down into each others laps, the foreheads come into immediate contact, which at once puts an end to the conference—I mean to the sentimental part of it.—What is left, madam, is not worth stooping for.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 3/Chapter 42

CHAP. XLII.
No matter,—as an appendage to seamstressy, the thread-paper might be of some consequence to my mother,—of none to my father, as a mark in Slawkenbergius. Slawkenbergius in every page of him was a rich treasury of inexhaustible knowledge to my father,—he could not ​open him amiss; and he would often say in closing the book, that if all the arts and sciences in the world, with the books which treated of them, were lost,—should the wisdom and policies of governments, he would say, through disuse, ever happen to be forgot, and all that statesmen had wrote, or caused to be written, upon the strong or the weak sides of courts and kingdoms, should they be forgot also,—and Slawkenbergius only left,—there would be enough in him in all conscience, he would say, to set the world a-going again. A treasure therefore was he indeed! an institute of all that was necessary to be known of noses, and every thing else,—at matin, noon, and vespers was Hafen Slawkenbergius his recreation and delight: 'twas for ever in his hands,—you would have sworn, Sir, it had been a canon's prayer-book,—so worn, so glazed, so contrited ​and attrited was it with fingers and with thumbs in all its parts, from one end even unto the other.
I am not such a bigot to Slawkenbergius, as my father;—there is a fund in him, no doubt; but in my opinion, the best, I don't say the most profitable, but the most amusing part of Hafen Slawkenbergius, is his tales,—and, considering he was a German, many of them told not without fancy:—these take up his second book, containing nearly one half of his folio, and are comprehended in ten decads, each decad containing ten tales.—Philosophy is not built upon tales; and therefore 'twas certainly wrong in Slawkenbergius to send them into the world by that name;—there are a few of them in his eight, ninth, and tenth decads, which I own seem rather playful and sportive, than speculative,—but in general ​they are to be looked upon by the learned as a detail of so many independent facts, all of them turning round somehow or other upon the main hinges of his subject, and collected by him with great fidelity, and added to his work as so many illustrations upon the doctrines of noses.
As we have leisure enough upon our hands,—if you give me leave, madam, I'll tell you the ninth tale of his tenth decad.
The End of the Third Volume.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 3/Chapter 9

CHAP. IX.
Great wits jump: for the moment Dr. Slop cast his eyes upon his bag (which he had not done till the dispute with my uncle Toby about midwifery put him in mind of it)—the very same thought occurred.—'Tis God's mercy, quoth he, (to himself) that Mrs. Shandy has had so bad a time of it,—else she might have been brought to bed seven times told, before one half of these knots could have got untied.—But ​here, you must distinguish—the thought floated only in Dr. Slop's mind, without sail or ballast to it, as a simple proposition; millions of which, as your worship knows, are every day swiming quietly in the middle of the thin juice of a man's understanding, without being carried backwards or forwards, till some little gusts of passion or interest drive them to one side.
A sudden trampling in the room above, near my mother's bed, did the proposition the very service I am speaking of. By all that's unfortunate, quoth Dr. Slop, unless I make haste, the thing will actually befall me as it is.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 3/Chapter 5

CHAP. V.
Any man, madam, reasoning upwards, and observing the prodigious suffusion of blood in my father's countenance,—by means of which, (as all the blood in his body seemed to rush up into his face, as I told you) he must have redden'd, pictorically and scientintically speaking, six whole tints and a half, if not a full octave above his natural colour:—any man, madam, but my uncle Toby, who had observed this, together with the violent knitting of my father's brows, and the extravagant contortion of his body during the whole affair,—would have concluded my father in a rage; and taking that for granted,—​had he been a lover of such kind of concord as arises from two such instruments being put into exact tune,—he would instantly have skrew'd up his, to the same pitch;—and then the devil and all had broke loose—the whole piece, madam, must have been played off like the sixth of Avison Scarlatti—con furia,—like mad.—Grant me patience!—What has con furia,—con strepito,—or any other hurlyburly word whatever to do with harmony?
Any man, I say, madam, but my uncle Toby, the benignity of whose heart interpreted every motion of the body in the kindest sense the motion would admit of, would have concluded my father angry and blamed him too. My uncle Toby blamed nothing but the taylor who cut the pocket-hole;—so sitting still, till ​my father had got his handkerchief out of it, and looking all the time up in his face with inexpressible good will—my father at length went on as follows.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 4

There is no Chapter 24 in this volume, it having been deliberately omitted, including the corresponding 10 page numbers, by the author.
THE
LIFE
AND
OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gentleman.
THE
LIFE
AND
OPINIONS
OF
TRISTRAM SHANDY, Gentleman.
VOL. IV.
LONDON:
Printed for R. and J. Dodsley in Pall-Mall, M.DCC.LXI.
* Slawkenbergius's Tale
* Chapter I.
* Chapter II.
* Chapter III.
* Chapter IV.
* Chapter V.
* Chapter VI.
* Chapter VII.
* Chapter VIII.
* Chapter IX.
* Chapter X.
* Chapter XI.
* Chapter XII.
* Chapter XIII.
* Chapter XIV.
* Chapter XV.
* Chapter XVI.
* Chapter XVII.
* Chapter XVIII.
* Chapter XIX.
* Chapter XX.
* Chapter XXI.
* Chapter XXII.
* Chapter XXIII.
* Chapter XXIV. [Chapter 24 is deliberately omitted by the author, as explained in Chapter 25.]
* Chapter XXV.
* Chapter XXVI.
* Chapter XXVII.
* Chapter XXVIII.
* Chapter XXIX.
* Chapter XXX.
* Chapter XXXI.
* Chapter XXXII.
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
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 4/Chapter 10

CHAP. X.
Is it not a shame to make two chapters of what passed in going down one pair of stairs? for we are got no farther yet than to the first landing, and there are fifteen more steps down to the bottom; and for aught I know, as my father and my uncle Toby are in a talking humour, there may be as many chapters as steps;—let that be as it will, Sir, I can no more help it than my destiny:—A sudden impulse comes across me—drop the curtain, Shandy—I drop it—Strike a line here across the paper, Tristram—I strike it—and hey for a new chapter?
The duce of any other rule have I to govern myself by in this affair—and if I ​had one—as I do all things out of all rule—I would twist it and tear it to pieces, and throw it into the fire when I had done—Am I warm? I am, and the cause demands it—a pretty story! is a man to follow rules—or rules to follow him?
Now this, you must know, being my chapter upon chapters, which I promised to write before I went to sleep, I thought it meet to ease my conscience entirely before I lay'd down, by telling the world all I knew about the matter at once: Is not this ten times better than to set out dogmatically with a sententious parade of wisdom, and telling the world a story of a roasted horse—that chapters relieve the mind—that they assist—or impose upon the imagination—and that in a work of this dramatic cast they are as necessary as ​the shifting of scenes—with fifty other cold conceits, enough to extinguish the fire which roasted him.—O! but to understand this, which is a puff at the fire of Diana's temple—you must read Longinus—read away—if you are not a jot the wiser by reading him the first time over—never fear—read him again—Avicenna and Licetus, read Aristotle's metaphysicks forty times through a piece, and never understood a single word.—But mark the consequence—Avicenna turned out a desperate writer at all kinds of writing—for he wrote books de omni scribili; and for Licetus (Fortunio) though all the world knows he was born a fœtus, of ​no more than five inches and a half in length, yet he grew to that astonishing height in literature, as to write a book with a title as long as himself—the learned know I mean his Gonopsychanthropologia, upon the origin of the human soul.
​So much for my chapter upon chapters, which I hold to be the best chapter in my whole work; and take my word, whoever reads it, is full as well employed, as in picking straws.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 3/Chapter 8

CHAP. VIII.
As Obadiah loved wind musick preferably to all the instrumental musick he carried with him,—he very considerately set his imagination to work, to contrive and to invent by what means he should put himself in a condition of enjoying it.
In all distresses (except musical) where small cords are wanted,—nothing is so apt to enter a man's head, as his hat-band:—the philosophy of this is so near the surface—I scorn to enter into it.
As Obadiah's was a mix'd case,—marks, Sirs,—I say, a mix'd case; for it ​was obstretical,—scrip-tical,—squirtical, papistical,—and as far as the coach-horse was concerned in it,—caball-istical—and only partly musical;—Obadiah made no scruple of availing himself of the first expedient which offered;—so taking hold of the bag and instruments, and gripeing them hard together with one hand, and with the finger and thumb of the other, putting the end of the hat-band betwixt his teeth, and then slipping his hand down to the middle of it,—he tied and cross-tied them all fast together from one end to the other (as you would cord a trunk) with such a multiplicity of round-abouts and intricate cross turns, with a hard knot at every intersection or point where the strings met,—that Dr. Slop must have had three fifths of Job's patience at least to have unloosed them. I think in my conscience, that had Nature been in one of ​her nimble moods, and in humour for such a contest—and she and Dr. Slop both fairly started together—there is no man living who had seen the bag with all that Obadiah had done to it,—and known likewise, the great speed the goddess can make when she thinks proper, who would have had the least doubt remaining in his mind—which of the two would have carried off the prize. My mother, madam, had been delivered sooner than the green bag infallibly—at least by twenty knots.—Sport of small accidents, Tristram Shandy! that thou art, and ever will be! had that trial been made for thee, and it was fifty to one but it had,—thy affairs had not been so depress'd—(at least by the depression of thy nose) as they have been; nor had the fortunes of thy house and the occasions of making them, which have so often presented themselves in the ​course of thy life, to thee, been so often, so vexatiously, so tamely, so irrecoverably abandoned—as thou hast been forced to leave them!—but 'tis over,—all but the account of 'em, which cannot be given to the curious till I am got out into the world.
# The Jewish Fairy Book (Gerald Friedlander)/Iron and the Trees

XVIII
IRON AND THE TREES
ON the same day when the Holy One formed the trees He also made iron and other metals. Now the trees were very proud to find that they were taller than any creatures made by God. They looked at the hills and mountains and said: "They are of course very big, but we shall grow taller and taller and one day we shall be able to look down upon them." The cedars even boasted saying: "We shall soon grow as high as the heavens and our roots will stretch from one end of the earth to the other. Then shall we be kings of the earth."
At that moment the Spirit of Meekness passed by and heard the foolish boast of the trees. In a very gentle voice the Spirit said to the cedars:
"Why don't you look at your roots; do you know what is hidden beneath them?"
"No. We cannot see what is hidden deep down in the earth. Our heads are too high up in the sky."
"Well, just let me look for you. Shall I tell you what I see?"
"Please do look and tell us what is hidden beneath our roots."
"I see a lot of metal ore, called iron."
​"Why dost thou tell us about the iron metal! It is not in our way the least bit."
"No, it is not in your way now."
"Why then bother about it?"
"Listen, ye cedars and all ye trees! In days to come men will dig in the earth and find the iron ore. They will use it for very many purposes. They will make ax-heads and then you will remember my words."
"What will then happen to us?"
"If men get wood for the handle of the ax they will cut down your fine tall trees."
When the trees heard this they began to tremble and to weep.
The Spirit asked: "Why do ye weep?"
"We are afraid."
"Why are ye afraid?"
"Because now we see that thou art right. The iron at our roots will one day cut down our tall trunks which will then lie in shame on the earth. We shall never reach the sky and we shall never be kings at all. People will burn our wood in the fire once we are cut down."
"Have no fear, ye trees! All the trouble ye foresee need not arise if ye desire to prevent it."
"How so?"
"Let none of your wood be put into the iron to make the handle of the ax and then not one of you will be touched."
Genesis Rabbah, v. 9.
# The Jewish Fairy Book (Gerald Friedlander)/Abraham's Tree

XXI
ABRAHAM'S TREE
FROM the time when the Holy One told Abraham to leave his father's house in Ur of the Chaldees, he planted the seed of a tree in every place where he stayed. In vain was all his labor. The seed never took root and nothing grew. At last he came to the Holy Land. Here also he planted the seed, and strange to say, not only did the seed take root but the most beautiful tree ever seen by men grew in Abraham's garden. Its green foliage was the talk of the land. Never before had such leaves been seen. Nor was this all. The fruit of this tree was the sweetest ever tasted. Moreover its blossoms and fruit were to be seen in summer and winter alike.
Abraham made it known throughout the land that this wonderful tree was for the benefit of all the children of men. When the weary traveler, scorched by the glare of the sun, came to sit beneath the boughs of Abraham's tree, he immediately felt refreshed. The shade cast by the tree was as cool as a mountain stream. The fragrance of the fruit was so marvelous that the thirsty and hungry who came ​near to it needed neither drink nor food. This was the good fortune of all who believed in God. If, however, some one came near the tree and refused to believe in the Holy One, the wonderful tree seemed to be about to wither. The shade was no longer cool, the fragrance ceased to be refreshing. Then Abraham would come and teach the disbeliever that there was one God in Heaven and on earth, ever near to all who seek Him in truth. When at last the guest of Abraham had found the truth and looked up to the heavens with faith in his heart, lo! the tree was beautiful again in all its glory. The birds hastened to sit on its branches and to join in the hymn of praise to the Lord of the world.
Jalkub Chadash, 14a.
# The Jewish Fairy Book (Gerald Friedlander)/The Citizen of the World

XIV
THE CITIZEN OF THE WORLD
THE Holy One gathered the dust for the creation of the first man from the four corners of the earth. The Spirit of Life asked God why did He do this. The Holy One replied: "If a man should chance to come from the East to the West, or from the West to the East or to any place on the face of the earth, and his time comes to depart from this world, then the dust of the earth which is in that place where he dies shall not say to him: The dust of thy body is not mine. Thou wast not born here in this land. Return to the place whence thy dust was gathered at thy birth.' It is for this reason that I have taken the dust to form man from the four corners of the earth. Every place on earth is man's home. Wheresoever he happens to be when he dies there is the resting-place for the dust of his body and there it returns to Mother-Earth." The Spirit of Life praised the Lord whose mercies are over all His works.
Chapters of Rabbi Eliezer, xi.
# The Jewish Fairy Book (Gerald Friedlander)/Heavenly Treasures

III
HEAVENLY TREASURES
IN the first century of the common era there was a King named Monobazus. He ruled over the land of Adiabene near Assyria. By birth a heathen, he ultimately embraced the Jewish religion. His example was followed by his wife Queen Helena, and their son Izates, who in time succeeded his father on the throne.
Now it happened, shortly after Monobazus became a Jew, that his subjects were sorely oppressed by a very severe famine. Many of the people died of starvation and want. When King Monobazus saw the plight of his people he opened the royal treasuries and distributed all his wealth among the unfortunate poor. His noble conduct displeased his rich relatives, who came to him in order to reproach him. They asked him: "Is it true that thou art thinking of opening the royal treasury of thy late father, our wise and beloved King?"
Monobazus: "It is quite true; in fact I have already opened all the royal treasuries."
Then they asked him: "May we inquire what purpose hast thou in view?"
​Monobazus: "My purpose is to feed the starving poor in my kingdom."
This answer led them to say: "Thy fathers gathered treasures, but thou hast squandered them."
Monobazus: "My fathers laid up treasures upon earth, but I lay up treasures in Heaven. My fathers gathered them into treasuries over which the hand of man hath power; I have stored mine in a treasury over which the hand of man hath no power. My fathers gathered that which bears no fruit, whilst I have gathered that which yields fruit. My fathers gathered wealth: whilst I have gathered souls. My fathers gathered for this world; I have gathered for the world to come, even as it is said in Holy Writ.—'Treasures of wickedness profit nothing: but charity delivereth from death'" (Prov. x. 2).
Palestinian Talmud, Peah i, 1, 15b.
# The Lieutenant-Governor

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a 1903 novel by Guy Wetmore Carryl. The setting of this novel is the fictional U.S. State of Alleghania, somewhere in the American South, around the beginning of the 20th century.

### Author’s dedication

    To M. R. B.
    In memory of the rescue of a man at sea

### Contents

* Chapter I. The Fly on the Wheel
* Chapter II. The Odds Against Young Nisbet
* Chapter III. A Face in the Crowd
* Chapter IV. As Between Friends
* Chapter V. A Brand from the Burning
* Chapter VI. McGrath Laughs
* Chapter VII. The Mirage of Power
* Chapter VIII. The Governor Unmasks
* Chapter IX. The Ninth Passes in Review
* Chapter X. A Question and an Answer
* Chapter XI. Young Nisbet Finds His Tongue
* Chapter XII. Diogenes
* Chapter XIII. The Instrument of Fate
* Chapter XIV. The Voice of Alleghenia
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
# The Lie

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Lie."
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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 Lie (1916), written by Leonid Andreyev, translated by W. H. Lowe
* The Lie (1913), by Owen Johnson
# The Jungle Book

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* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category, Wikidata item.
A collection of stories originally published in magazines in 1893-4.
* The Jungle Book (1894) Illustrated by John Lockwood Kipling, published by The Century Co.
* The Jungle Book (1910) Illustrated by John Lockwood Kipling, published by The Century Co. (transcription project)
# The Jungle Book (Century edition)

* related portals: Children's literature.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons category.
Layout 2
THE JUNGLE BOOK
THE
JUNGLE BOOK
BY
RUDYARD KIPLING
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1894
Copyright 1893, 1894, by
Rudyard Kipling Copyright, 1894, by Harper and Brothers Copyright 1893, 1894, by The Century Co.
THE DE VINNE PRESS.
CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE JUNGLE BOOK