OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Woman of the Century/Clara Conway

​CONWAY, Miss Clara, educator, is a native and resident of Memphis, Tenn. She began her educational career as a public-school teacher. Her study of educational methods inspired her with the desire to establish a system of education for girls which should be based on absolute thoroughness. Her idea was and is that women should be so taught that, if conditions make self-support necessary, they can fill professional careers. She was the first woman in Tennessee to assist in the organization of teachers' institutes, and she was the first southern woman to attend the teachers' summer-school in the North. At the first session of the Martha's Vineyard Summer Institute she was the only representative of the South. At the meeting of the National Educational Association in Madison, Wis., 18th July, 1884, she read a paper on the needs of southern women. In 1886 she read a paper in the Saratoga convention, and in 1887 she was elected a member of the National Council during the San Francisco convention, although she was not present. She took a prominent part in the meeting of the Southern Association at Lookout Mountain in 1891, and in the meeting of the National Council in Toronto, Canada, in the same year. Her connection with the famous school that bears her name dates from 1878, when she originated the work with fifty pupils, one assistant and $300 of burrowed money. The growth of the ​school was remarkable. In 1884 Miss Conway's pupils numbered 250, and it became apparent that permanent accommodations must be provided. A few public-spirited citizens, impressed with the determination
CLARA CONWAY. of the woman, who had fought such heavy odds, formed a stock company, incorporated the school and had a building erected. It was Miss Conway's proposition that it be called the Margaret Fuller school, but the trustees decided promptly that it should be named in honor of its founder, the Clara Conway Institute. The institute in 1891 had three-hundred pupils, a senior class of thirty, school property valued at f 75.000, a strong faculty, nine of whom, former pupils, have been trained for special departments in the best schools of this country and of Europe, while its graduates are filling many useful positions in life.
# Woman of the Century/Clara Erskine Clement

​CLEMENT, Mrs. Clara Erskine, see Waters, Clara Erskine Clement.
# Woman of the Century/Christine Terhune Herrick

​CHRISTINE TERHUNE HERRICK. HERRICK, Mrs. Christine Terhune, author and editor, born in Newark, N. J., 13th June, 1859, where her father was settled as pastor of a Dutch Reformed Church. Her mother is the well-known author, "Marion Harland." In 1876 she went abroad with her parents and spent two years in some of the principal cities of Europe, acquiring a knowledge of foreign languages and continuing an education which had been previously carried on under private teachers at home. After returning to this country. Miss Terhune lived for several years in Springfield, Mass., perfecting herself in English literature, Anglo-Saxon and philology. Her ambition was to teach her favorite ranches, and for a time she had a class in a private school for girls. About that time she met and became the wife of James Frederick Herrick, a member of the editorial staff of the Springfield "Republican." Early in her married life Mrs. Herrick began to write on home topics, developing the talent which has made her so well known. She has contributed to many leading periodicals and newspapers, and has published nve books, four of them on home topics, and the other a compilation of correspondence between the late Duke of Wellington and a young woman known as "Miss J." At present Mrs. Herrick lives in New York. She edits the woman's page of the New York "Recorder." Her husband is connected with another metropolitan daily newspaper. While kept very busy by her literary engagements, she does not neglect her household cares, the precepts which she teaches finding practical illustration in her pretty and well-regulated home. She has had four children, and two little boys survive. The rapidity and ease with which Mrs. Herrick turns on her literary work enables her to pay some attention to the obligations and pleasures of society. She is as clever a talker as she is a writer, and is an active member of Sorosis. Her health is unusually good and her activity and good spirits unfailing. She spends her summers in her country home, "Outlook." among the hills of northern New Jersey.
# Winter the Nursery for Spring Flowers

First published in the April 1895 issue of Woman's Progress. Here as rendered in Meehan's Monthly (Jan 1896):
WINTER THE NURSERY FOR SPRING FLOWERS.
Death wished to borrow something of thy grace; And now that thou art lying 'neath the snow, The grave that holds thee seems a favored place, Where one might willing go. But life is not so rich in things divine, That it would part with such a soul as thine!
A voice of comfort breathes from sorrowing Earth; If winter is the nursery of flowers, If purity and loveliness have worth Beyond this world of ours, If there is pity for the tears we shed, If any truly live—thou art not dead!
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 1927, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 96 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
# Winter under cultivation

Winter under cultivation Is as arable as Spring.
# Winter Rain

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Winter Rain."
* 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.
* "Winter Rain", a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
* "Winter Rain", a poem by Christina Rossetti.
# Winter in Summer

“All in a bleak December…”
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1893), "Winter in Summer" in Verses
* Shorter, Dora Sigerson (1907), "Winter in Summer" in The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter
# Winter v. Montgomery/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
156 U.S. 385
Winter v. Montgomery
Writ of error dismissed.

## 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
# Winter Practice

WINTER PRACTICE.
Sir, — Now that cricket has been put aside for some few months to come, and cricketers have assumed somewhat of the chrysalis nature (for a time only 'tis true), but at length again will burst forth in all their varied hues, rather than allow this state of torpor to creep over them, and stifle their new supple limbs, why can they not, I say, form a foot-ball club, and form a committee of three or more to draw up a code of laws? If a club of this sort were got up, it would be of vast benefit to any cricket-ground to be trampled upon, and would make the turf quite firm and durable; besides which it would keep those who are inclined to become stout from having their joints encased in useless superabundant flesh. If it is not possible to form a foot-ball club, why should not these young men who have adopted this new-born country for their motherland, why I say, do not they form themselves into a rifle club, so at any-rate they may be some day called upon to aid their adopted land against a tyrant's band, that may some day 'pop' upon us when we least expect a foe at our very doors. Surely our young cricketers are not afraid of the crack of the rifle, when they face so courageously the leathern sphere, and it would disgrace no one to learn in time to defend his country and his hearth. A firm heart, a steady hand, and a quick eye, are all that are requisite and, with practice, all these may be attained. Trusting that someone will take up the matter, and form either of the above clubs, or, at any rate, some athletic games, I remain, yours truly, T.W. WILLS.
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
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Boy and the Filberts

THE BOY AND THE FILBERTS
A BOY put his hand into a jar of Filberts, and grasped as many as his fist could possibly hold. But when he tried to pull it out again, he found he couldn’t do so, for the neck of the jar was too small to allow of the passage of so large a handful. Unwilling to lose his nuts but unable to withdraw his hand, he burst into tears. A bystander, who saw where the trouble lay, said to him, “Come, my boy, don’t be so greedy: be content with half the amount, and you’ll be able to get your hand out without difficulty.”
Do not attempt too much at once.
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Bull and the Calf

THE BULL AND THE CALF
A FULL-GROWN Bull was struggling to force his huge bulk through the narrow entrance to a cow-house where his stall was, when a young Calf came up and said to him, “If you’ll step aside a moment, I’ll show you the way to get through.” The Bull turned upon him an amused look. “I knew that way,” said he, “before you were born.”
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Cage-Bird and the Bat

THE CAGE-BIRD AND THE BAT
A SINGING-BIRD was confined in a cage which hung outside a window, and had a way of singing at night when all other birds were asleep. One night a Bat came and clung to the bars of the cage, and asked the Bird why she was silent by day and sang only at night. “I have a very good reason for doing so,” said the Bird: “it was once when I was singing in the daytime that a fowler was attracted by my voice, and set his nets ​for me and caught me. Since then I have never sung except by night.” But the Bat replied, “It is no use your doing that now when you are a prisoner: if only you had done so before you were caught, you might still have been free.”
Precautions are useless after the event.
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Boy and the Snails

THE BOY AND THE SNAILS
A FARMER’S BOY went looking for Snails, and, when he had picked up both his hands full, he set about making a fire at which to roast them; for he meant to eat them. When it got well alight and the Snails began to feel the heat, they gradually withdrew more and more into their shells with the hissing noise they always make when they do so. When the Boy heard it, he said, “You abandoned creatures, how can you find heart to whistle when your houses are burning?”
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Butcher and His Customers

THE BUTCHER AND HIS CUSTOMERS
TWO Men were buying meat at a Butcher’s stall in the market-place, and, while the Butcher’s back was turned for a moment, one of them snatched up a joint and hastily thrust it under the other’s cloak, where it could not be seen. When the Butcher turned round, ​he missed the meat at once, and charged them with having stolen it: but the one who had taken it said he hadn’t got it, and the one who had got it said he hadn’t taken it. The Butcher felt sure they were deceiving him, but he only said, “You may cheat me with your lying, but you can’t cheat the gods, and they won’t let you off so lightly.”
Prevarication often amounts to perjury.
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Cat and the Birds

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
THE CAT AND THE BIRDS
A CAT heard that the Birds in an aviary were ailing. So he got himself up as a doctor, and, taking with him a set of the instruments proper to his profession, presented himself at the door, and inquired after the health of the Birds. “We shall do very well,” they replied, without letting him in, “when we’ve seen the last of you.”
A villain may disguise himself, but he will not deceive the wise.
THE CAT AND THE BIRDS
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Cat and the Cock

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
THE CAT AND THE COCK
A CAT pounced on a Cock, and cast about for some good excuse for making a meal off him, for Cats don’t as a rule eat Cocks, and she knew she ought not to. At last she said, “You make a great nuisance of yourself at night by crowing and keeping people awake: so I am going to make an end of you.” But the Cock defended himself by saying that he crowed in order that men might wake up and set about the day’s work in good time, and that they really couldn’t very well do without him. “That may be,” said the Cat, “but whether they can or not, I’m not going without my dinner”; and she killed and ate him.
The want of a good excuse never kept a villain from crime.
THE CAT AND THE COCK
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Boy Bathing

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
THE BOY BATHING
A BOY was bathing in a river and got out of his depth, and was in great danger of being drowned. A man who was passing along a road hard by heard his cries for help, and went to the riverside and began to scold him for being so careless as to get into deep water, but made no attempt to help him. “Oh, sir,” cried the Boy, “please help me first and scold me afterwards.”
Give assistance, not advice, in a crisis.
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Boy and the Nettles

THE BOY AND THE NETTLES
A BOY was gathering berries from a hedge when his hand was stung by a Nettle. Smarting with the pain, he ran to tell his mother, and said to her between his sobs, “I only touched it ever so lightly, mother.” “That’s just why you got stung, my son,” said she; “if you had grasped it firmly, it wouldn’t have hurt you in the least.”
# Æsop's Fables (V. S. Vernon-Jones)/The Boys and the Frogs

THE BOYS AND THE FROGS
SOME mischievous Boys were playing on the edge of a pond, and, catching sight of some Frogs swimming about in the shallow water, they began to amuse themselves by pelting them with stones, and they killed several of them. At last one of the Frogs put his head out of the water and said, “Oh, stop! stop! I beg of you: what is sport to you is death to us.”
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Ravenous Bill

RAVENOUS BILL
    Oh! a terrible glutton was "Ravenous Bill,"
    Mate of the good ship "Whippoorwill;"
    And seldom it was he could get his fill;
       A fact he oft would mention.
    And many a time, when eating his beef,
    Would the captain tell him to "take a reef;"
    But to such requests he ever was "deaf,"
       This being a bone of contention.
    He cheated the sailors out of their prog,
    Nor left e'en a scrap for the captain's dog:
    He was such a gourmand and terrible "hog,"
       That he'd" eat you out of your house."
    He thought no more of a leg of ham,
    A peck of potatoes, and shoulder of lamb,
    With all the "fixin's," — wine, jellies, and jam,-
       Than a cat would think of a mouse.
    At length, on distant Southern sands
    The vessel was stranded; and all the hands
    Were captured by some of the savage bands
       Who lived on that foreign coast.
    Poor Bill was taken among the rest,
    And became at once a cannibal's guest;
    (No pleasant position, it must be confessed,
    To wake up some morning already " dressed"
       For a native's " fancy roast.")
    For want of rations Bill had grown thin,-
    Nothing, in fact, but bones and skin;
    And his heathen master (as ugly as sin,
    To find he'd so badly been " taken in")
       Devised a horrible plan.
    To wit: a bamboo cage he'd make,
    And put in Bill, with a monstrous snake
    Called the anaconda, that could easily " take"
       Most any "reasonable" man.
    At last 'twas finished, — the cage was done;
    The snake was captured, — a monstrous one:
    The natives assembled to see the " fun,"
    And "settle their Bill" they said, as a pun,
    "Referring to the "collation."
    Our hero was thrust into the cage
    Where the snake was coiling itself with rage,
    Eager and waiting its prey to engage,—
    An engaging occupation.
    As Bill and the snake met face to face,
    He was folded at once in its close embrace;
    And the natives, thinking he'd "ran his race,"
       Began on his fate to ponder;
    When — what d'ye suppose first met their eyes
    As the dust from the scene did slowly rise,
    They found that Bill, to their great surprise,
    Had SWALLOWED THE ANACONDA!
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Repartee

REPARTEE.
       One Mr. B--
       A joker he,
    While in a jovial mood,
       Tried to explain
       To neighbor N
    A joke which he thought good.
       His hearer, Neff,
       Was very deaf,
    And couldn't catch the joke;
       Whereat B smiled,
       Though slightly "riled,"
    And thus to him he spoke: —
       "'Tis plain to me
       As A B C,
    My dear friend, Mr. Neff!"
       "Oh, yes! but then,"
       Says Mr. N ,
    "You know I'm D E F!"
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Mother's Doughnuts

MOTHER'S DOUGHNUTS.
El Dorado, 1851.
    I've jest bin down ter Thompson's, boys,
    'N' feelin' kind o' blue,
    I thought I'd look in at " The Ranch,"
    Ter find out what wuz new,
    When I seen this sign a-hangin'
    On a shanty by the lake:
    "Here's vvhar yer gets yer doughnuts
    Like yer mother used ter make."
    I've seen a grizzly show his teeth;
    I've seen Kentucky Pete
    Draw out his shooter V advise
    A " tenderfoot" ter treat;
    But nuthin' ever tuk me down,
    'N' made my benders shake,
    Like that sign about the doughnuts
    Like my mother used ter make.
    A sort o' mist shut out the ranch,
    'N' standin' thar instead
    I seen an old white farm-house,
    With its doors all painted red.
    A whiff came through the open door—
    Wuz I sleepin' or awake?
    The smell wuz that of doughnuts
    Like my mother used ter make.
    The bees wuz hummin' round the porch
    Whar honeysuckles grew;
    A yellow dish of apple sass
    Wuz sittin' thar in view;
    'N' on the table by the stove
    An old-time "johnny-cake,"
    'N' a platter full of doughnuts
    Like my mother used ter make.
    A patient form I seemed ter see,
    In tidy dress of black;
    almost thought I heard the words,
    "When will my boy come back?"
    'N' then—the old sign creaked;
    But now it wuz the boss who spake,
    " Here's whar yer gets yer doughnuts
    Like yer mother used ter make."
    Well, boys, that kind o' broke me up,
    'N' ez I've "struck pay gravel,"
    I ruther think I'll pack my kit,
    Vamose the ranch, 'u' travel.
    I'll make the old folks jubilant,
    'N', ef I don't mistake,
    I'll try some o' them doughnuts
    Like my mother used ter make.
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Pat's Criticism

PAT'S CRITICISM.
       There's a story that's old,
       But good if twice told,
    Of a doctor of limited skill,
       Who cured beast and man
       On the " cold-water plan,"
    Without the small help of a pill.
       On his portal of pine
       Hung an elegant sign,
    Depicting a beautiful rill,
       And a lake where a sprite,
       With apparent delight,
    Was sporting in sweet dishabille.
       Pat McCarty one day,
       As he sauntered that way,
    Stood and gazed at that portal of pine;
       When the doctor with pride
       Stepped up to his side,
    Saying, "Pat, how is that for a sign ? "
       "There's wan thing," says Pat,
       "Ye've lift out o' that,
    Which, be jabers! is quoite a mistake:
       It's trim, and it's nate;
       But, to make it complate,
    Ye shud have a foine burd on the lake."
       "All! indeed! pray, then, tell,
       To make it look well,
    What bird do you think it may lack?"
       Says Pat, "Of the same
       I've forgotten the name,
    But the song that he sings is 'Quack - quack!'"
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Sequel to the "One-Horse Shay"

SEQUEL TO THE "ONE-HORSE SHAY."
    Doubtless my readers all have heard
       Of the "wonderful one-horse shay "
    That "went to pieces all at once"
       On the terrible earthquake-day.
    But did they ever think of the horse,
       Or mourn the loss of him,—
    The "ewe-necked bay" (who drew the "shay"),
       So full of life and vim?
    He was a wonderful nag, I'm told,
       In spite of his old "rat-tail;"
    And, though he always minded the rein,
       He laughed at the snow and hail.
    He had the finest stable in town,
       With plenty of oats and hay;
    And to the parson's oft "Hud-dup"
       He never would answer neigh.
    To the parson's shay he was ever true,
       Though her other felloes were tired:
    To live and die with his fiancée
       Was all that his heart desired.
    He was much attached to his ancient mate;
       So the parson "hitched them together;"
    And, when they went on their bridle tour,
       His heart was light as a feather.
    We all remember her awful fate,
       On that sad November day,
    When nothing remained but a heap of trash,
       That once was a beautiful shay.
    Oh! what could stir-up the equine breast
       Like this fearful, harrowing blow.
    Which put a check on his happiness,
       And filled his heart with w(h)oa.
    As he wheeled about, a shaft of pain
       Entered his faithful breast,
    As he there beheld the sad remains
       Of her whom he loved the best.
    With a sudden bound and fearful snort,
       He sped away like the wind;
    And a fact most queer I'll mention here, —
       No traces were left behind.
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Misplaced Sympathy

MISPLACED SYMPATHY.
    Little Benny sat one evening,
       Looking o'er his picture-book:
    Suddenly his mother noticed
       On his face a troubled look.
    He was gazing on a picture, —
       "Christians in the early days,"
    When the cruel tyrant Nero
       Harassed them in various ways.
    'Twas a family of Christians,
       Torn by lions fierce and wild,
    In the horrible arena,
       Which had thus distressed the child.
    Thinking it a golden moment
       To impress his youthful mind
    With our freedom, dearly purchased,
       And by martyrs' blood refined,
    His good mother told the story
       Of their persecutions sore,
    While he listened, all attention,
       And the picture pondered o'er.
    "See, my child, those hungry lions,
       How upon the group they fall!
    'Tis a sight, my precious darling,
       That the bravest might appall."
    Then, with little lip a-quiver,
       "Mamma, look!" says little Benny:
    "Little lion in the corner,
       Mamma, isn't gettin' any!"
# Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Roller-Skating

ROLLER-SKATING.
IN FOUR ACTS.
ACT I.
    "Ho, ho!" said careless Willie Gates;
    "Who couldn't learn on roller-skates?"
ACT II.
    "Ah, ha!" said he, as on the floor
    He struck out boldly for the door.
ACT III.
    "So, so!" observed the roller-skates,
    "We'll interview young William Gates."
ACT IV.
    "Oh! Oo-o-o!" said Willie, meek and humble,
    "I thought 'twas easy; now I tumble."