* DISKS * #1 - "The Hunting of the Snark" and "What the Tortoise Said to Achilles" by Lewis Carroll; "The Tale of Ivan the Fool" by Leo Tolstoy; "The Babe Unborn" by G.K. Chesterton; "Just So Stories" and "Oak and Ash" by Rudyard Kipling. "Blessings and Curses". #6 - "Lud-in-the-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees. #7 - "The Exiles Club and Other Stories," by Lord Dunsany. #8 - "Manalive" by G. K. Chesterton. #9 - "Tales of the Long Bow" by G. K. Chesterton. #10 - "Bethmoora and Other Stories", by Lord Dunsany. ------------------------------------------------------------ Details on the Books Listed Above SNARK.TXT "The Hunting of the Snark" by Lewis Carroll, together with some excerpts from {Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There}. This marvelous narrative poem, probably Carroll's best work, contains some of the most quotable stanzas in English literature. "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried, As he landed his crew with care; Supporting each man at the top of the tide By a finger entwined in his hair. ... They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope; They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap. ... They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice-- They roused him with mustard and cress-- They roused him with jam and judicious advice-- They set him conundrums to guess. TORTOISE.TXT "What the Tortoise Said to Achilles" by Lewis Carroll. An amusing paradox which proves that all reasoning involves an infinite regress; a sequel to Zeno's paradox. IVAN.TXT "The Tale of Ivan the Fool" by Leo Tolstoy. In a certain kingdom of a certain realm there once lived a rich peasant. And the rich peasant had three sons: Semyon the Soldier, Taras the Big-Belly, and Ivan the Fool, and an unmarried daughter, Malyana the Mute. Semyon the Soldier went to war to serve the tsar; Taras the Big-Belly went to a merchant in town to trade; and Ivan the Fool stayed at home with his sister to break his back with hard work. Now the Old Devil was vexed that the brothers had not quarreled over the sharing but had parted amicably. He summoned three imps. "Look here," he said, "there are three brothers: Semyon the Soldier, Taras the Big-Belly and Ivan the Fool. They ought to have quarreled, but instead they live in peace and friendship. The Fool spoiled the whole business for me. You three go and take on those three brothers, and stir them up so they'll tear one another's eyes out. Can you do this?" "We can," they said. "How will you do it?" "Like this: first we'll ruin them, and when they haven't so much as a bone to gnaw on, we'll pile them into a heap -- and then they'll start fighting." UNBORN.TXT "The Babe Unborn" by G.K. Chesterton. A short poem in which a baby speculates about the marvelous things he will be able to see and do when he is born. JUSTSO.TXT _Just So Stories_ by Rudyard Kipling. Twelve mythic stories of the High and Far-off Times, with twelve poems. How the Whale Got His Throat How the Camel Got His Hump How the Rhinoceros Got His Skin How the Leopard Got His Spots The Elephant's Child The Singsong of Old Man Kangaroo The Beginning of the Armadillos How the First Letter Was Written How the Alphabet Was Made The Crab That Played With the Sea The Cat That Walked By Himself The Butterfly That Stamped Not always was the Kangaroo as now we do behold him, but a Different Animal with four short legs. He was gray, and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on an outcrop in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Little God Nqa. He went to Nqa at six before breakfast, saying, "Make me different from all other animals by five this afternoon." Up jumped Nqa from his seat on the sand-flat and shouted, "Go away!" In the beginning of years, when the world was so new and all, and the Animals were just beginning to work for Man, there was a Camel, and he lived in the middle of a Howling Desert because he did not want to work; and besides, he was a Howler himself. So he ate sticks and thorns and tamarisks and milkweed and prickles, most 'scruciatingly idle; and when anybody spoke to him he just said "Humph!" Just "Humph!" and no more. Presently the Horse came to him and on Monday morning, with a saddle on his back and a bit in his mouth, and said, "Camel, O Camel, come out and trot like the rest of us." "Humph!" said the Camel, and the Horse went away and told the Man. LUD-MIST.ZIP _Lud-in-the-Mist_ by Hope Mirrlees. This excellent fantasy novel was first published in 1926, and, sadly, has been out of print most of the time since. No more! "Leer," he said solemnly, when Dame Jessamine had left the room, "there are a very queer things happening at that Academy... *very* queer things." "Indeed?" said Endymion Leer, in a tone of surprise. "What sort of things?" Master Ambrose gave a short laugh: "Not the sort of things, if my suspicions are correct, that one cares to talk about -- even between men. But I can tell you, Leer, though I'm not what one could call a fanciful man, I believe if I'd stayed much longer in that house I should have gone off my head, the whole place stinks with... well, with pernicious nonsense, and I actually found myself, I, Ambrose Honeysuckle, *seeing* things -- ridiculous things." Endymion Leer looked interested. "What sort of things, Master Ambrose?" he asked. "Oh, it's not worth repeating -- except in so far as it shows that the fancies of silly overwrought women can sometimes be infectious. I actually imagined that I saw the Senate room portrait of Duke Aubrey reflected on the window. And if *I* take to fancying things -- well, there must be something very fishy in the offing." Endymion Leer's expression was inscrutable. "Optical delusions *have* been known before, Master Ambrose," he said calmly. "Even the eyes of Senators may sometimes play them tricks. Optical delusions, legal fictions -- and so the world wags on." Master Ambrose grunted. He loathed the fellow's offensive way of putting things. But he was sore at heart and terribly anxious, and he felt the need of having his fears dispelled, so, ignoring the sneer, he said with a weary sigh: "However, that's a mere trifle. I have grave reasons for fearing that my daughter has... has... well, not to put too fine a point on things, I'm afraid that my daughter *has eaten fairy fruit.*" Endymion Leer flung up his hands in horror, and then he laughed incredulously. "Impossible, my dear sir, impossible! Your good lady told me you were sadly anxious about her, but let me assure you such an idea is mere morbidness on your part. The thing's impossible." "Is it?" said Master Ambrose grimly; and producing the slipper from his pocket he held it out, saying, "What do you say to that? I found it in Miss Crabapple's parlour. I'm not much of a botanist, but I've never seen purple strawberries in Dorimare... Toasted cheese! What's taken the man?" For Endymion Leer had turned livid, and was staring at the design on the shoe with eyes as full of horror as if it had been some hideous goblin. DUNSANY1.ZIP "The Exiles Club and Other Stories," by Lord Dunsany. Twenty-eight stories and plays: After the Fire King Argimenes and the Unknown Warrior The Assignation Carcassonne Charon The Bureau d'Exchange de Maux The Death of Pan The Demagogue and the Demi-Monde The Exiles Club The Gods of the Mountain The Guest The True History of the Hare and the Tortoise The Laughter of the Gods Why the Milkman Shudders When He Perceives the Dawn Poltarnees, Beholder of Ocean The Songless Country The Sphinx at Gizeh Spring in Town Taking Up Picadilly A Tale of the Equator How the Enemy Came to Thlunrana A Tale of London The Watch-tower Wind and Fog The Workman Thirteen at Table The Three Infernal Jokes The Three Sailors' Gambit Charon leaned forward and rowed. All things were one with his weariness. It was not with him a matter of years or of centuries, but of wide floods of time, and an old heaviness and a pain in the arms that had become for him part of the scheme that the gods had made and was of a piece with Eternity. If the gods had even sent him a contrary wind it would have divided all time in his memory into two equal slabs. So grey were all things always where he was that if any radiance lingered a moment among the dead, on the face of such a queen perhaps as Cleopatra, his eyes could not have perceived it. It was strange that the dead nowadays were coming in such numbers. They were coming in thousands where they used to come in fifties. It was neither Charon's duty nor his wont to ponder in his grey soul why these things might be. Charon leaned forward and rowed. Then no one came for a while. It was not unusual for the gods to send no one down from Earth for such a space. But the gods knew best. Then one man came alone. And the little shade sat shivering on a lonely bench and the great boat pushed off. Only one passenger; the gods knew best. And great and weary Charon rowed on and on beside the little, silent, shivering ghost. And the sound of the river was like a mighty sigh that Grief in the beginning had sighed among her sisters, and that could not die like the echoes of human sorrow failing on earthly hills, but was as old as time and the pain in Charon's arms. Then the boat from the slow, grey river loomed up to the coast of Dis and the little, silent shade still shivering stepped ashore, and Charon turned the boat to go wearily back to the world. Then the little shadow spoke, that had been a man. "I am the last," he said. No one had ever made Charon smile before, no one before had ever made him weep. DUNSANY2.ZIP "Bethmoora and Other Stories", by Lord Dunsany. Twenty-seven stories and plays: How Ali Came to the Black Country The Madness of Andelsprutz The Beggars Bethmoora The Bird of the Difficult Eye Blagdaross The Day of the Poll A Narrow Escape The Field The Glittering Gate The Golden Doom The Hashish Man The Idle City A Story of Land and Sea The Loot of Loma The Lost Silk Hat The City on Mallington Moor The Bad Old Woman in Black How Plash-Goo Came to the Land of None's Desire Poor Old Bill The Long Porter's Tale The Secret of the Sea The Sword and the Idol Where the Tides Ebb and Flow The Unhappy Body Idle Days on the Yann In Zaccarath MANALIV0.ZIP _Manalive_ by G. K. Chesterton. A delightful 1912 novel by the author of _The Everlasting Man_ and the Father Brown mysteries. "To begin with," he said, "this man Smith is constantly attempting murder. The Warden of Brakespeare College --" "I know," said Mary, with a vague but radiant smile. "Innocent told me." "I can't say what he told you," replied Pym quickly, "but I'm very much afraid it wasn't true. The plain truth is that the man's stained with every known human crime. I assure you I have all the documents. I have evidence of his committing burglary, signed by a most eminent English curate. I have --" "Oh, but there were two curates," cried Mary, with a certain gentle eagerness; "that was what made it so much funnier." The darkened glass doors of the house opened once more, and Inglewood appeared for an instant, making a sort of signal. The American doctor bowed, the English doctor did not, but they both set out stolidly towards the house. No one else moved, not even Michael hanging on the gate; but the back of his head and shoulders had still an indescribable indication that he was listening to every word. "But don't you understand, Mary," cried Rosamund in despair; "don't you know that awful things have happened even before our very eyes. I should have thought you would have heard the revolver shots upstairs." "Yes, I heard the shots," said Mary almost brightly; "but I was busy packing just then. And Innocent had told me he was going to shoot at Dr. Warner; so it wasn't worth while to come down." "Oh, I don't understand what you mean," cried Rosamund Hunt, stamping, "but you must and shall understand what I mean. I don't care how cruelly I put it, if only I can save you. I mean that your Innocent Smith is the most awfully wicked man in the world. He has sent bullets at lots of other men and gone off in cabs with lots of other women. And he seems to have killed the women too, for nobody can find them." "He is really rather naughty sometimes," said Mary Gray, laughing softly as she buttoned her old gray gloves. "Oh, this is really mesmerism, or something," said Rosamund, and burst into tears. LONGBOW0.ZIP _Tales of the Long Bow_ by G. K. Chesterton. A 1925 novel about the impossible feats of the League of the Long Bow, and of the English Revolution of 19--. These tales concern the doing of things recognized as impossible to do; impossible to believe; and, as the weary reader may well cry aloud, impossible to read about. Did the narrator merely say that they happened, without saying how they happened, they could easily be classified with the cow who jumped over the moon or the more introspective individual who jumped down his own throat. In short, they are all tall stories; and though tall stories may also be true stories, there is something in the very phrase appropriate to such a topsy-turvydom; for the logician will presumably class a tall story with a corpulent epigram or a long-legged essay. It is only proper that such impossible incidents should begin in the most prim and prosaic of all places, and apparently with the most prim and prosaic of all human beings. ... "Did you propose to attend church without a hat, sir?" asked the other. "Certainly not. Most irreverent," said the Colonel. "Nobody should neglect to remove his hat on entering church. Well, if I haven't got a hat, I shall neglect to remove it. Where is your reasoning power this morning? No, no, just dig up one of your cabbages." Once more the well-trained servant managed to repeat the word "Cabbages" with his own strict accent; but in its constriction there was a hint of strangulation. "Yes, go and pull up a cabbage, there's a good fellow," said the Colonel. "I must really be getting along; I believe I heard it strike eleven." Mr. Archer moved heavily in the direction of a plot of cabbages, which swelled with monstrous contours and many colours; objects, perhaps, more worthy of the philosophic eye than is taken into account by the more flippant of tongue. Vegetables are curious-looking things and less commonplace than they sound. If we called a cabbage a cactus, or some such queer name, we might see it as an equally queer thing. These philosophical truths did the Colonel reveal by anticipating the dubious Archer, and dragging a great, green cabbage with its trailing root out of the earth. He then picked up a sort of pruning-knife and cut short the long tail of the root; scooped out the inside leaves so as to make a sort of hollow, and gravely reversing it, placed it on his head. Coming Soon (query before ordering) - More stories by Lord Dunsany. - More stories by G. K. Chesterton: "The Poet and the Lunatics", "The Return of Don Quixote", "The Flying Inn", "The Club of Queer Trades," etc. --- revised 6/26/93