OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Levy Court of Washington County v. Ringgold

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
30 U.S. 451
Levy Court of Washington County v. Ringgold
THIS was an appeal from the circuit court of the county of Washington.
The case was argued by Mr Key for the appellants; and by Mr Swann for the appellee.
Mr Justice THOMPSON 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
# Leviton v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
343 U.S. 946
Leviton v. United States
Argued: May 12, 1952. --- Decided: June 9, 1952
See 343 U.S. 988, 72 S.Ct. 1079.
Mr. Sidney Feldshuh, for petitioner Leviton.
Mr. John Logan O'Donnell, for petitioner Markowitz.
Mr. David E. Scoll, for petitioner Blumenfeld.
Memorandum of Mr. Justice FRANKFURTER.

## 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
# Levitt and Sons, Inc. v. Division Against Discrimination in State Department of Education

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
363 U.S. 418
LEVITT AND SONS, INC., v. DIVISION AGAINST DISCRIMINATION IN STATE DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION et al.
Mr. William P. Reiss, for appellant.
Messrs. David D. Furman, Atty. Gen. of New Jersey, and Lee A. Holley, Deputy Atty. Gen., for appellee Division Against Discrimination.
Messrs. Emerson L. Darnell and Sidney Reitman, for appellee Willie R. James.
Messrs. Jerome C. Eisenberg and Herbert H. Tate, for appellee Franklin D. Todd.
Mr. Julius Wildstein (Mr. Joseph B. Robinson, on the brief), for both individual appellees.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Levitt and Sons, Inc. v. Division Against Discrimination in State Department of Education/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
363 U.S. 418
LEVITT AND SONS, INC., v. DIVISION AGAINST DISCRIMINATION IN STATE DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION et al.
The motions to dismiss are granted and the appeal is dismissed for want of a substantial federal question.
Mr. Justice BLACK would note probable jurisdiction.

## 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
# Lost Galleon (1867)/A Sanitary Message

A SANITARY MESSAGE.
Last night, above the whistling wind, I heard the welcome rain; A fusilade upon the roof, A tattoo on the pane. The key-hole piped; the chimney-top A warlike trumpet blew, Yet mingling with these sounds of strife A softer voice stole through.
"Give thanks, O brothers," said the voice, "That He who sent the rains Hath spared your fields the scarlet dew That drips from patriot veins. ​I've seen the grass on Eastern graves In brighter verdure rise; But oh, the rain that gave it life Sprang first from human eyes.
"I come to wash away no stain Upon your wasted lea; I raise no banners, save the ones The forest wave to me. Upon the mountain side, where Spring Her farthest picket sets My reveillé awakes a host Of grassy bayonets.
"I visit every humble roof; I mingle with the low; Only upon the highest peaks My blessings fall in snow, Until in tricklings of the stream, And drainings of the lea, My unspent bounty comes at last To mingle with the sea." ​And thus, all night above the wind I heard the welcome rain; A fusilade upon the roof, A tattoo on the pane. The key-hole piped; the chimney-top A warlike trumpet blew; But mingling with these sounds of strife This hymn of Peace stole through.
# Lost Galleon (1867)/A Geological Madrigal

A GEOLOGICAL MADRIGAL.
AFTER HERRICK.
Ihave found out a gift for my fair; I know where the fossils abound, Where the foot-prints of Aves declare The birds that once walked on the ground; O, come, and—in technical speech— We'll walk this Devonian shore, Or on some Silurian beach We'll wander, my love, evermore.
I will show thee the sinuous track By the slow-moving annelid made, Or the Trilobite that, further back, In the old Potsdam sandstone was laid. ​Thou shall see, in his Jurassic tomb, The Plesiosauras embalmed; In his Oolitic prime and his bloom— Iguanodon safe and unharmed!
You wished—I remember it well, And I loved you the more for that wish— For a perfect cystedian shell And a whole holocephalic fish. And O, if Earth's strata contains In its lowest Silurian drift, Or Palæozoic remains The same—'t is your lover's free gift.
Then come, love, and never say nay, But calm all your maidenly fears, We'll note, love, in one summer's day The record of millions of years; And though the Darwinian plan Your sensitive feelings may shock, We'll find the beginning of man— Our fossil ancestors in rock!
# Lost Galleon (1867)/An Arctic Vision

AN ARCTIC VISION.
Where the short-legged Esquimaux Waddle in the ice and snow, And the playful polar bear Nips the hunter unaware; Where by day they track the ermine, And by night another vermin— Segment of the frigid zone, Where the temperature alone Warms on St. Elias' cone; Polar dock, where Nature slips From the ways her icy ships; Land of fox, and deer, and sable, Shore end of our western cable— Let the news that flying goes Thrill through all your Arctic floes, ​And reverberate the boast From the cliffs of Beechey's coast, Till the tidings, circling round Every bay of Norton Sound, Throw the vocal tide-wave back To the isles of Kodiac. Let the stately polar bears Waltz around the pole in pairs, And the walrus, in his glee, Bare his tusk of ivory; While the bold sea unicorn Calmly takes an extra horn; All ye polar skies, reveal your Very rarest of parhelia; Trip it, all ye merry dancers, In the airiest of lancers; Slide, ye solemn glaciers, slide, One inch further to the tide. Nor in rash precipitation Upset Tyndall's calculation. Know you not what fate awaits you, Or to whom the future mates you? ​All ye icebergs make salaam— You belong to Uncle Sam!
On the spot where Eugene Sue Led his wretched Wandering Jew, Stands a form whose features strike Russ and Esquimaux alike. He it is whom Skalds of old In their Runic rhymes foretold; Lean of flank and lank of jaw, See the real Northern Thor! See the awful Yankee leering Just across the Straits of Behring; On the drifted snow, too plain, Sinks his fresh tobacco stain Just beside the deep iden- Tation of his Number 10.
Leaning on his icy hammer Stands the hero of this drama, And above the wild duck's clamor, In his own peculiar grammar, With its linguistic disguises, Lo, the Arctic prologue rises: ​"Wa'll, I reckon 'tain't so bad, Seein' ez 't was all they had; True, the Springs are rather late And early Falls predominate; But the ice crop's pretty sure, And the air is kind o' pure; 'Taint so very mean a trade, When the land is all surveyed. There's a right smart chance for fur-chase All along this recent purchase, And unless the stories fail, Every fish from cod to whale; Rocks, too; mebbee quartz; let's see— 'T would be strange if there should be— Seems I've heerd such stories told; Eh!—why, bless us—yes, it's gold!"
While the blows are falling thick From his California pick, You may recognize the Thor Of the vision that I saw— Freed from legendary glamour, See the real magician's hammer.
# Lost Galleon (1867)/How are You, Sanitary

"HOW ARE YOU, SANITARY?"
Down the picket-guarded lane, Rolled the comfort-laden wain, Cheered by shouts that shook the plain, Soldier-like and merry: Phrases such as camps may teach, Sabre cuts of Saxon speech, Such as "Bully!" "Them's the peach!" "Wade in, Sanitary!"
Right and left the caissons drew, As the car went lumbering through, Quick succeeding in review Squadrons military; ​Sunburnt men, with beards like frieze, Smooth-faced boys, and cries like these— "U. S. San. Com." "That's the cheese!" "Pass in, Sanitary!"
In such cheer it struggled on Till the battle front was won, Then the car, its journey done, Lo, was stationary; And where bullets whistling fly, Came the sadder, fainter cry, "Help us, brothers, ere we die— Save us, Sanitary!"
Such the work. The phantom flies, Wrapped in battle-clouds that rise; But the brave—whose dying eyes, Veiled and visionary, See the jasper gates swung wide, See the parted throng outside— Hears the voice to those who ride: "Pass in, Sanitary!"
# Lost Galleon (1867)

This is the first book edition, first issue, for this collection of poetry. Notes on some of these poems appear at the end of the volume.
THE
Lost Galleon
AND
OTHER TALES.
BY
FR. BRET HARTE.
SAN FRANCISCO:
TOWNE & BACON, PRINTERS.
1867.
"The earth hath bubbles as the water hath, and these are of them."
Macbeth.
BEFORE THE CURTAIN.
Behind the footlights hangs the rusty baize; A trifle shabby in the upturned blaze Of flaring gas, and curious eyes that gaze.
The stage, methinks, perhaps is none too wide; And hardly fit for royal Richard's stride, Or Falstaff's bulk, or Denmark's youthful pride.
Ah well! no passion walks its humble boards— O'er it no king nor valiant Hector lords— The simplest skill is all its space affords—
The song and jest, the dance and trilling play— The local hit at follies of the day— The trick to pass an idle hour away—
For these, no trumpets that announce the Moor— No blast that makes the hero's welcome sure— A single fiddle in the overture!
CONTENTS.
TALES AND LEGENDS— :
| | | PAGE. |
| | The Lost Galleon | 13 |
| | John Burns of Gettysburg | 23 |
| | Tale of a Pony | 29 |
| | Padre Junipero's Miracle | 35 |
| NATIONAL AND SANITARY— |||
| | The Long, Long Night | 43 |
| | The Reveille | 45 |
| | Our Privilege | 47 |
| | Second Review of the Grand Army | 49 |
| | On a Pen of Thomas Starr King | 53 |
| | The Rabbit of Malvern Hills | 55 |
| | Of One who Fell in Battle | 59 ​ |
| | The Goddess | 61 |
| | How are You, Sanitary? | 65 |
| | Relieving Guard—March 4th, 1864 | 67 |
| | A Sanitary Message | 69 |
| MISCELLANEOUS. |||
| | The Pliocene Skull | 75 |
| | An Arctic Vision | 79 |
| | The Aged Stranger | 83 |
| | Hero of Sugar Pine | 85 |
| | Legends of the Rhine | 87 |
| | The Two Ships | 91 |
| | The Lost Tails of Miletus | 93 |
| | A Geological Madrigal | 95 |
| Ballads of San Francisco— |||
| | The Emeu | 97 |
| | The Willows | 101 |
| | North Beach | 107 |
| NOTES | NOTES | 109 |
Entered according to Act of Congress in the Year 1867, by
Fr. Bret Harte,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of California.
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
# Lost Galleon (1867)/Hero of Sugar Pine

THE HERO OF SUGAR PINE.
"Oh tell me, Sergeant of Battery B, Oh, hero of Sugar Pine! Some glorious deed of the battle field, Some wonderful feat of thine.
"Some skilful move, when the fearful game Of battle and life was played On yon grimy field, whose broken squares In scarlet and black are laid."
"Ah, stranger, here at my gun all day, I fought till my final round ​Was spent, and I had but powder left, And never a shot to be found;
"So I trained my gun on a rebel piece: So true was my range and aim, A shot from his cannon entered mine And finished the load of the same!"
"Enough! Oh, Sergeant of Battery B, Oh, hero of Sugar Pine! Alas! I fear that thy cannon's throat Can swallow much more than mine!"
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2233/To Philip Bourke Marston

About Philip Bourke Marston (1850–1887)
Sweet poet, thou of whom these years that roll  Must one day yet the burdened birthright learn,  And by the darkness of thine eyes discern How piercing was the sight within thy soul; Gifted apart, thou goest to the great goal,  A cloud-bound radiant spirit, strong to earn  Light-reft, that prize for which loud myriads yearn Vainly light-blest — the seer's aureole; And doth thine ear, divinely dowered to catch  All spheral sounds in thy song blest so well,  Still hearken for my voice's slumbering spell With wistful love? Ah! let the Muse now snatch My wreath for thy young brows, and bend to watch  Thy veiled transfiguring sense's miracle.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2234/In the Spring

Originally published in Cornhill Magazine.
Have all the songs been said? Are all the singers dead? Is all the music fled? —
The sum and aim of life One dreary struggle, rife With greed and sordid strife? —
Man but a dull machine, Living a vast routine Of narrow purpose mean?
Oh! while one leaf swings high Against an azure sky In springtime's ecstasy,
There breathes yet the sublime, There beats yet living rhyme, 'Tis still the young world's prime.
Nature has high commands, Bears gifts with lavish hands To him who understands!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2233/Only a Week

Originally published in All The Year Round.
Only a week, since you and I Just "kept each other company;" Ah! sweet old phrase of every day, Such as we use in earnest play, Touching the heart-chords tenderly.
Now, sullen looks the stranger sky On the slow hours that weary by; How long since we two wooed delay? Only a week!
Could any graceful subtlety The past's sweet careless magic try To teach the present to essay The joy that went with you away? That asked to be, to live, to die — Only a week!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2235/Afloat in a Crater

Originally published in Science.
Afloat in a Crater — Captain C. E. Dutton, of the United States Geological Survey, has been recently engaged in making a study of Crater Lake, in Oregon, and the latest advices received from him show that he has discovered, probably, the deepest body of fresh water in the country. Leaving Ashland, Oregon, on July 7, his party, escorted by ten soldiers, provided through the courtesy of the general commanding the military department of the Columbia, reached the brink of the wall of the lake on the thirteenth, having brought with them boats so mounted on the running gear of wagons as to bear transportation over a hundred miles of mountain road without injury. The boats bore the transportation without strain or damage, and preparations were at once begun for lowering them nine hundred feet to the water. The steepness of the wall was very great, being at the place selected about forty-one or forty-two degrees, and the descent partly over talus covered above with snow, and rocky, broken ledges lower down. The boats entered the water quite unharmed. The process of sheathing them, rigging the tackle, and lowering them occupied four days. A couple of days were occupied in making journeys around the walls of the lake by boat — the only possible way — and in examining the rocks and structures of the wall in its various parts. Next followed a series of soundings. The depth of the lake considerably exceeded the captain’s anticipations, though the absence of anything like a talus near the water line already indicated deep water around the entire shore. The depths range from eight hundred and fifty-three feet to nineteen hundred and ninety-six feet, so far as the soundings show, and it is quite possible and probable that depths both greater and shallower may be found. The average depth is about nineteen hundred and forty feet. The descent from the water’s edge is precipitous; at four or five hundred yards from shore depths of fifteen to eighteen hundred feet are found all around the margin. The greatest depths will probably exceed two thousand feet, for it is not probable that the lowest point has been touched. The soundings already made indicate it as being the deepest body of fresh water in the country.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2235/Coal

Originally published in Industries.
Coal — From time to time discoveries of coal mines in Italy are reported in the Italian newspapers, and the intelligence invariably elicits gratifying comments, and hopeful speculations as to the industrial future of the country. As these reports, however, have never been confirmed, it is generally assumed that they were either unfounded, or that they merely referred to some strata of lignite. One or two papers have quite recently received communications respecting some work of exploration that is being carried on in the Val Trompia (Province of Brescia), on account of a Venetian contracting company, and the result of which is calculated to raise fresh hopes in the same direction. What gave rise to these hopes is the reported fact that the different strata through which shafts have been sunk are of the same nature and appearance as the strata which, in mining districts, generally announce the presence of a bed of fossil coal.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2233/Jack Frost

Originally published in Temple Bar.
Ha! ha! Jack Frost,  Is the frontier crossed  That divides us from Autumn's domain?  Are we far on the road  To your icy abode  O'er the track of your wintry plain?  Whose leafless trees  All elbows and knees,  All crooked, and crank, and cropt, Seem struck of a heap in the act of a leap, Surprised by your breath in a dance of death, And all fast glued in the gaunt attitude  They last had chanced to adopt!
 Ho! ho! Jack Frost,  Have you rudely tossed  To the winds our sylvan fleece?  Bold thief of the wood  You shall make it good  With the folds of your snow pelisse.  For the gold and bronze  Of the Autumn fronds,  Whose tints you would not spare, You shall pay full score of snowflakes hoar, Compound for the crime with glist'ning rime, You shall trim the meads with crystal beads,  And crisp the morning air.
 Our gable-heights  Your stalactites  In fringes shall festoon,  You shall lay the lake —  Or I much mistake —  With a polished floor full soon;  Each bough you stripped  Shall be bravely 'quipped  In a coat of sparkling cold — Each hedge you scour a fairy bow'r, Your morning breath a silver wreath, Your starlit night a crown of light —  You shall pay us back fourfold!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2234/We Two

Originally published in All The Year Round.
But then, you see, I love him. Just that — love.  I wonder if you know one little bit What the word means? you favored ones, who rove  Down beaten paths with all things smooth and fit; With no false note to jar amid your airs;  With no black cloud to blot your sunshine out; No yearning want to madden in your prayers;  No "Why?" to deepen every bitter doubt.
Easy when noonday floods the clustered flowers,  When wealth and world's approval gird you round, To learn the fairy tasks of smiling hours,  And "do the duty" fashioned fair when found; Passing decorous through the guarded life,  Giving from heaped-up coffers, smiling sweet; Wondering that others fret so in the strife;  Terming each woe untasted, "judgment meet."
"Friendship," "affection," "fondness," pretty phrases!  Well symbolling the fragile things they mean; Like rosy creepers that, 'mid grass and daisies,  Twine over meadow paths a graceful screen; Till some strong foot comes crashing from the hill,  Treads down the tendrils, flings the flowers apart, And the full moonlight, pitiless and chill,  Glares on the bare, cold path — the barren heart.
But Love his strong vitality asserts,  His quenchless power, crush it as you may! The slow rains rot, the cruel east wind hurts,  But the rich blooms press upward to the day. Darling, the holy bond 'twixt you and me  Is pure, and strong, and prompt to do and dare, As when we knelt beside our mother's knee,  And learnt from her sweet lips our baby prayer.
Then, in the golden memories of our youth,  Sun out the dreary present's gathering storm; Or face it in our deep love's loyal truth,  And a fresh link from troubled hours form; Let the world frown or shrink, we two together  Can surely ride o'er wilder waves than these; Knowing the cyclone brings the cloudless weather,  And to some haven roll the roughest seas.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2234/A Psalm of Life

Originally published in Macmillan's Magazine.
Through the wild Babel of our fevered time The song of Homer cometh, grave and stern,
With tidings from the world's fresh, healthy prime, — Tidings which our worn, wearied age concern.
Unchanged, through all the long unnumbered years, The voice of Homer sings the song divine, Which tells of godlike toils, of heroes' tears, And of the punishment of Priam's line.
The battle in the plain is raging yet; The watchfires blaze, the beak'd ships line the shore; For us the foe in grim array is set; Ah! but do we fight as they fought of yore?
For we, too, like the heroes long ago, Must wage slow wars and sail the bitter sea; Fierce is the conflict, loud the tempests blow, And the waves roar and rage unceasingly.
Still must we wander o'er the stormy main; 'Twixt rocks and whirlpools a dread passage make; Still must the Sirens sing to us in vain; Still from the toils of Circe must we break.
Turn, then, to Homer's Psalm of Life, and see How they endured, whose pilgrimage is done; And hear the message they have left for thee: Only by patience is the victory won.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2234/Entire Armor Plating

Entire Armor Plating — The Journal de la Marine of last week contains an article on explosive projectiles in the navy, from the pen of Lieutenant Weyl. The writer begins by observing that, after having to a certain measure, "uncuirassed" vessels of war, the question now arises whether it will not be necessary to cuirass them from top to bottom to protect them from the terrible effects of projectiles filled with gun-cotton, dynamite, mélinite, etc. Lieutenant Weyl then continues thus: "Every one knows the result of the experiments undertaken by the artillery of the army; they are so far advanced that we can declare that before long the French army will possess siege guns whose power of destruction will be incomparable. The naval artillery is also engaged in making experiments, which, however, are kept secret." Referring to the terrible effects of the bursting of a mélinite shell inside a vessel, the writer argues that it is indispensable to provide means for making such projectiles burst outside, and that consequently all the œvres vives, or portions of a vessel out of water, must be armored. "The armoring of the water-line will no longer be sufficient for armorclads, and we shall be obliged, perhaps, to plate even our rapid cruisers all over."
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2233/March Meadows

Originally published in Academy.
A thick white mist lies heavy on the vale —  Heavy, and soft, and cold; on either hand,  Ghosts of themselves, the trees and hedges stand, Nor black nor green, but vaguely dull and pale; And in the clotted air, our lambs' weak wail  Is stifled; and a silent spectral band  Of cattle moves across the shadowless land, Wherein all forms are blurr'd, all voices fail.
Ah me, how like is this our stern sad spring  To life's yet sterner autumn! Such a mist,  So cold, so formless, from the Lethe-stream Rises and spreads, and blots out everything  That we have keenly loved and warmly kiss'd;  Till we too are but figures in a dream.
# Magin v. Karle Same

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
150 U.S. 387
Magin v. Karle Same
John R. Bennett, for appellant.
Josiah Sullivan, for appellees.
Mr. Justice JACKSON 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