The best book you can read about vampires. You can get the book online, so I invite you to read dracula, and improve your pronunciation and also your vocabulary.
The best book you can read about vampires. You can get the book online, so I invite you to read dracula, and improve your pronunciation and also your vocabulary.
Dracula is an 1897 Gothic horror novel by Irish author Bram Stoker. Famous for introducing the character of the vampire Count Dracula, the novel tells the story of Dracula's attempt to move from Transylvania to England, and the battle between Dracula and a small group of men and women led by Professor Abraham Van Helsing.
Dracula has been assigned to many literary genres including vampire literature, horror fiction, the gothic novel and invasion literature. The novel touches on themes such as the role of women in Victorian culture, sexual conventions, immigration, colonialism, and post-colonialism. Although Stoker did not invent the vampire, he defined its modern form, and the novel has spawned numerous theatrical, film and television interpretations.
I claim no credit for this story, written by grand admiral chelli of FanFiction.net. This story describes Finnick's life for when he was chosen for his games,up to his death.
The story of The Tatami Galaxy follows an unnamed third year university student in Kyoto, Japan and what he views as his wasted time in a particular club (also called "circle") at his university. He meets Ozu, another student, whose encouragement sets him on a mission of dubious morality. He contemplates his affection for a second year engineering student, Akashi, and makes promises to her, usually of and within a romantic subtext. The culmination of his dubious missions often conflict with his interest in her in some way. The story is one of a number that draw on the author's experience in Kyoto University.
Infographic: Writing a Story Scary to the BONES!ESSAYSHARK.com
Well, hello to everyone who are dared to open this infographic created by https://essayshark.com /! I will not hide the topic from you: we will be discussing Halloween.
Dracula is an 1897 Gothic horror novel by Irish author Bram Stoker. Famous for introducing the character of the vampire Count Dracula, the novel tells the story of Dracula's attempt to move from Transylvania to England, and the battle between Dracula and a small group of men and women led by Professor Abraham Van Helsing.
Dracula has been assigned to many literary genres including vampire literature, horror fiction, the gothic novel and invasion literature. The novel touches on themes such as the role of women in Victorian culture, sexual conventions, immigration, colonialism, and post-colonialism. Although Stoker did not invent the vampire, he defined its modern form, and the novel has spawned numerous theatrical, film and television interpretations.
I claim no credit for this story, written by grand admiral chelli of FanFiction.net. This story describes Finnick's life for when he was chosen for his games,up to his death.
The story of The Tatami Galaxy follows an unnamed third year university student in Kyoto, Japan and what he views as his wasted time in a particular club (also called "circle") at his university. He meets Ozu, another student, whose encouragement sets him on a mission of dubious morality. He contemplates his affection for a second year engineering student, Akashi, and makes promises to her, usually of and within a romantic subtext. The culmination of his dubious missions often conflict with his interest in her in some way. The story is one of a number that draw on the author's experience in Kyoto University.
Infographic: Writing a Story Scary to the BONES!ESSAYSHARK.com
Well, hello to everyone who are dared to open this infographic created by https://essayshark.com /! I will not hide the topic from you: we will be discussing Halloween.
The Bourne-Again Shell by Chet Ramey
from The Architecture of Open Source Applications I (http://aosabook.org/en/bash.html)
@ Eva
Focus on Bash as interpreter, rather than System shell.
인터프리터 동작에 초점을 맞춰 진행했습니다.
Dubliners is a collection of fifteen short stories by James Joyce, first published in 1914.[1] They form a naturalistic depiction of Irish middle class life in and around Dublin in the early years of the 20th century.
The stories were written when Irish nationalism was at its peak, and a search for a national identity and purpose was raging; at a crossroads of history and culture, Ireland was jolted by various converging ideas and influences. They centre on Joyce's idea of an epiphany: a moment where a character experiences a life-changing self-understanding or illumination. Many of the characters in Dubliners later appear in minor roles in Joyce's novel Ulysses.[2] The initial stories in the collection are narrated by child protagonists, and as the stories continue, they deal with the lives and concerns of progressively older people. This is in line with Joyce's tripartite division of the collection into childhood, adolescence and maturity.
The Lives of the Dead by Tim OBrienBut this too is true stor.docxarnoldmeredith47041
"The Lives of the Dead" by Tim O'Brien
But this too is true: stories can save us. I'm forty-three years old, and a writer now, and even still, right here, I keep dreaming Linda alive. And Ted Lavender, too, and Kiowa, and Curt Lemon, and a slim young man I killed, and an old man sprawled beside a pigpen, and several others whose bodies I once lifted and dumped into a truck. They're all dead. But in a story, which is a kind of dreaming, the dead sometimes smile and sit up and return to the world.
Start here: a body without a name. On an afternoon in 1969 the platoon took sniper fire from a filthy little village along the South China Sea. It lasted only a minute or two, and nobody was hurt, but even so Lieutenant Jimmy Cross got on the radio and ordered up an air strike. For the next half hour we watched the place burn. It was a cool bright morning, like early autumn, and the jets were glossy black against the sky. When it ended, we formed into a loose line and swept east through the village. It was all wreckage. I remember the smell of burnt straw; I remember broken fences and heaps of stone and brick and pottery. The place was deserted - no people, no animals - and the only confirmed kill was an old man who lay face-up near a pigpen at the center of the village. His right arm was gone. At his face there were already many flies and gnats.
Dave Jensen went over and shook the old man's hand. "How-dee-doo," he said.
One by one the others did it too. They didn't disturb the body, they just grabbed the old man's hand and offered a few words and moved away.
Rat Kiley bent over the corpse. "Gimme five," he said. "A real honor."
"Pleased as punch," said Henry Dobbins.
I was brand-new to the war. It was my fourth day; I hadn't yet developed a sense of humor. Right away, as if I'd swallowed something, I felt a moist sickness rise up in my throat. I sat down beside the pigpen, closed my eyes, put my head between my knees.
After a moment Dave Jensen touched my shoulder.
"Be polite now," he said. "Go introduce yourself. Nothing to be afraid about, just a nice old man. Show a little respect for your elders."
"No way."
"Maybe it's too real for you?"
"That's right," I said. "Way too real."
Jensen kept after me, but I didn't go near the body. I didn't even look at it except by accident. For the rest of the day there was still that sickness inside me, but it wasn't the old man's corpse so much, it was the awesome act of greeting the dead. At one point, I remember, they sat the body up against a fence. They crossed his legs and talked to him. "The guest of honor," Mitchell Sanders said, and he placed a can of orange slices in the old man's lap. "Vitamin C," he said gently. "A guy's health, that's the most important thing."
They proposed toasts. They lifted their canteens and drank to the old man's family and ancestors, his many grandchildren, his newfound life after death. It was more than mockery. There was a formality to it, like a fu.
A Scandal in BohemiaArthur Conan DoyleThis text is.docxannetnash8266
A Scandal in Bohemia
Arthur Conan Doyle
This text is provided to you “as-is” without any warranty. No warranties of any kind, expressed or implied, are made to you as to the
text or any medium it may be on, including but not limited to warranties of merchantablity or fitness for a particular purpose.
This text was formatted from various free ASCII and HTML variants. See http://sherlock-holm.es for an electronic form of this text
and additional information about it.
This text comes from the collection’s version 3.1.
http://sherlock-holm.es
Table of contents
Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
1
CHAPTER I.
T
o Sherlock Holmes she is always the
woman. I have seldom heard him men-
tion her under any other name. In his
eyes she eclipses and predominates the
whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emo-
tion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and
that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold,
precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I
take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing
machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he
would have placed himself in a false position. He
never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe
and a sneer. They were admirable things for the ob-
server—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s
motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner
to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and
finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a dis-
tracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all
his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or
a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would
not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in
a nature such as his. And yet there was but one
woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene
Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage
had drifted us away from each other. My own
complete happiness, and the home-centred inter-
ests which rise up around the man who first finds
himself master of his own establishment, were suf-
ficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes,
who loathed every form of society with his whole
Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker
Street, buried among his old books, and alternating
from week to week between cocaine and ambition,
the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of
his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply
attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his
immense faculties and extraordinary powers of ob-
servation in following out those clues, and clearing
up those mysteries which had been abandoned as
hopeless by the official police. From time to time.
30J a m e s B a l d w i nJames Baldwin (1924–1987) wa.docxgilbertkpeters11344
30
J a m e s B a l d w i n
James Baldwin (1924–1987) was born the son of a clergyman in Harlem, where
he attended Public School 24, Frederick Douglass Junior High School, and
DeWitt Clinton High School. While still a high school student he preached at the
Fireside Pentecostal Assembly, but when he was seventeen he renounced the
ministry. Two years later, living in Greenwich Village, he met who encouraged
him to be a writer and helped him win a Eugene Saxton Fellowship. Soon after-
ward Baldwin moved to France, as had, to escape the stifling racial oppression
he found in the United States. Although France was his more or less permanent
residence until his death from cancer nearly forty years later, Baldwin regarded
himself as a “commuter” rather than an expatriate:
Only white Americans can consider themselves to be expatriates. Once I
found myself on the other side of the ocean, I could see where I came from
very clearly, and I could see that I carried myself, which is my home, with me.
You can never escape that. I am the grandson of a slave, and I am a writer. I
must deal with both.
Baldwin began his career by publishing novels and short stories. In 1953 Go
Tell It on the Mountain, his first novel, was highly acclaimed. It was based on his
childhood in Harlem and his fear of his tyrannical father. Baldwin’s frank depic-
tion of homosexuality in the novels Giovanni’s Room (1956) and Another Country
(1962) drew criticism, but during the civil rights movement a few years later, he
established himself as a brilliant essayist. In his lifetime Baldwin published sev-
eral collections of essays, three more novels, and a book of five short stories,
Going to Meet the Man (1965).
“Sonny’s Blues,” from that collection, is one of Baldwin’s strongest psycholog-
ical dramatizations of the frustrations of African American life in our time. Like
Wright’s autobiographical books, Baldwin’s work is an inspiration to young writers
struggling to express their experience of racism. The African writer Chinua Achebe
said that “as long as injustice exists . . . the words of James Baldwin will be there to
bear witness and to inspire and elevate the struggle for human freedom.”
Related CommentaRy
James Baldwin, “Autobiographical Notes,” page 884.
03_CHA_6555_pt01_pp0006-0086.indd 30 30/05/14 10:14 AM
11/23/2015 - RS0000000000000000000000115248 (New User) - The
Story and Its Writer, Compact
chenhuihu
高亮
chenhuihu
高亮
chenhuihu
高亮
31
Sonny’s Blues
19 5 7
i read abouT iT in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. I read it,
and I couldn’t believe it, and I read it again. Then perhaps I just stared at it, at
the newsprint spelling out his name, spelling out the story. I stared at it in the
swinging lights of the subway car, and in the faces and bodies of the people,
and in my own face, trapped in the darkness which roared outside.
It was not to be believed and I kept telling myself that, as I walked from the
subway stati.
"Fade to Orange" is a narrative I developed whilst talking Advanced Fiction Workshop during Spring 2017. The full story, projected to be 200 pages, tracks the life of Amir Dabiri -- now a disillusioned thirty-four-year-old producer -- as he reflects on his adolesence, and in particular, the year he spent studying film in Prague. That year, he began an intimate, tumultuous, and ultimately transformational relationship with a fellow student named Catherine, whose radical views on life and love would inspire Amir to shift his attitude towards his family and himself. Yet as the program ends and Amir and Catherine face overseas distance, their relationship unravels -- due to mistakes Amir has only begun to confront. In present day, Amir's reflections on the misjudgments of his youth prepare him for a difficult meeting: his first time seeing Catherine, a new hire to his company, in ten years.
30James BaldwinJames Baldwin (1924–1987) was born the .docxgilbertkpeters11344
30
James Baldwin
James Baldwin (1924–1987) was born the son of a clergyman in Harlem, where
he attended Public School 24, Frederick Douglass Junior High School, and
DeWitt Clinton High School. While still a high school student he preached at the
Fireside Pentecostal Assembly, but when he was seventeen he renounced the
ministry. Two years later, living in Greenwich Village, he met who encouraged
him to be a writer and helped him win a Eugene Saxton Fellowship. Soon after-
ward Baldwin moved to France, as had, to escape the stifling racial oppression
he found in the United States. Although France was his more or less permanent
residence until his death from cancer nearly forty years later, Baldwin regarded
himself as a “commuter” rather than an expatriate:
Only white Americans can consider themselves to be expatriates. Once I
found myself on the other side of the ocean, I could see where I came from
very clearly, and I could see that I carried myself, which is my home, with me.
You can never escape that. I am the grandson of a slave, and I am a writer. I
must deal with both.
Baldwin began his career by publishing novels and short stories. In 1953 Go
Tell It on the Mountain, his first novel, was highly acclaimed. It was based on his
childhood in Harlem and his fear of his tyrannical father. Baldwin’s frank depic-
tion of homosexuality in the novels Giovanni’s Room (1956) and Another Country
(1962) drew criticism, but during the civil rights movement a few years later, he
established himself as a brilliant essayist. In his lifetime Baldwin published sev-
eral collections of essays, three more novels, and a book of five short stories,
Going to Meet the Man (1965).
“Sonny’s Blues,” from that collection, is one of Baldwin’s strongest psycholog-
ical dramatizations of the frustrations of African American life in our time. Like
Wright’s autobiographical books, Baldwin’s work is an inspiration to young writers
struggling to express their experience of racism. The African writer Chinua Achebe
said that “as long as injustice exists . . . the words of James Baldwin will be there to
bear witness and to inspire and elevate the struggle for human freedom.”
Related CommentaRy
James Baldwin, “Autobiographical Notes,” page 884.
03_CHA_6555_pt01_pp0006-0086.indd 30 30/05/14 10:14 AM
11/23/2015 - RS0000000000000000000000115248 (New User) - The
Story and Its Writer, Compact
31
Sonny’s Blues
1957
i read abouT iT in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. I read it,
and I couldn’t believe it, and I read it again. Then perhaps I just stared at it, at
the newsprint spelling out his name, spelling out the story. I stared at it in the
swinging lights of the subway car, and in the faces and bodies of the people,
and in my own face, trapped in the darkness which roared outside.
It was not to be believed and I kept telling myself that, as I walked from the
subway station to the high school. And at the same time I couldn’t .
Honest Reviews of Tim Han LMA Course Program.pptxtimhan337
Personal development courses are widely available today, with each one promising life-changing outcomes. Tim Han’s Life Mastery Achievers (LMA) Course has drawn a lot of interest. In addition to offering my frank assessment of Success Insider’s LMA Course, this piece examines the course’s effects via a variety of Tim Han LMA course reviews and Success Insider comments.
Macroeconomics- Movie Location
This will be used as part of your Personal Professional Portfolio once graded.
Objective:
Prepare a presentation or a paper using research, basic comparative analysis, data organization and application of economic information. You will make an informed assessment of an economic climate outside of the United States to accomplish an entertainment industry objective.
Biological screening of herbal drugs: Introduction and Need for
Phyto-Pharmacological Screening, New Strategies for evaluating
Natural Products, In vitro evaluation techniques for Antioxidants, Antimicrobial and Anticancer drugs. In vivo evaluation techniques
for Anti-inflammatory, Antiulcer, Anticancer, Wound healing, Antidiabetic, Hepatoprotective, Cardio protective, Diuretics and
Antifertility, Toxicity studies as per OECD guidelines
Operation “Blue Star” is the only event in the history of Independent India where the state went into war with its own people. Even after about 40 years it is not clear if it was culmination of states anger over people of the region, a political game of power or start of dictatorial chapter in the democratic setup.
The people of Punjab felt alienated from main stream due to denial of their just demands during a long democratic struggle since independence. As it happen all over the word, it led to militant struggle with great loss of lives of military, police and civilian personnel. Killing of Indira Gandhi and massacre of innocent Sikhs in Delhi and other India cities was also associated with this movement.
The French Revolution, which began in 1789, was a period of radical social and political upheaval in France. It marked the decline of absolute monarchies, the rise of secular and democratic republics, and the eventual rise of Napoleon Bonaparte. This revolutionary period is crucial in understanding the transition from feudalism to modernity in Europe.
For more information, visit-www.vavaclasses.com
Model Attribute Check Company Auto PropertyCeline George
In Odoo, the multi-company feature allows you to manage multiple companies within a single Odoo database instance. Each company can have its own configurations while still sharing common resources such as products, customers, and suppliers.
Instructions for Submissions thorugh G- Classroom.pptxJheel Barad
This presentation provides a briefing on how to upload submissions and documents in Google Classroom. It was prepared as part of an orientation for new Sainik School in-service teacher trainees. As a training officer, my goal is to ensure that you are comfortable and proficient with this essential tool for managing assignments and fostering student engagement.
Palestine last event orientationfvgnh .pptxRaedMohamed3
An EFL lesson about the current events in Palestine. It is intended to be for intermediate students who wish to increase their listening skills through a short lesson in power point.
The Roman Empire A Historical Colossus.pdfkaushalkr1407
The Roman Empire, a vast and enduring power, stands as one of history's most remarkable civilizations, leaving an indelible imprint on the world. It emerged from the Roman Republic, transitioning into an imperial powerhouse under the leadership of Augustus Caesar in 27 BCE. This transformation marked the beginning of an era defined by unprecedented territorial expansion, architectural marvels, and profound cultural influence.
The empire's roots lie in the city of Rome, founded, according to legend, by Romulus in 753 BCE. Over centuries, Rome evolved from a small settlement to a formidable republic, characterized by a complex political system with elected officials and checks on power. However, internal strife, class conflicts, and military ambitions paved the way for the end of the Republic. Julius Caesar’s dictatorship and subsequent assassination in 44 BCE created a power vacuum, leading to a civil war. Octavian, later Augustus, emerged victorious, heralding the Roman Empire’s birth.
Under Augustus, the empire experienced the Pax Romana, a 200-year period of relative peace and stability. Augustus reformed the military, established efficient administrative systems, and initiated grand construction projects. The empire's borders expanded, encompassing territories from Britain to Egypt and from Spain to the Euphrates. Roman legions, renowned for their discipline and engineering prowess, secured and maintained these vast territories, building roads, fortifications, and cities that facilitated control and integration.
The Roman Empire’s society was hierarchical, with a rigid class system. At the top were the patricians, wealthy elites who held significant political power. Below them were the plebeians, free citizens with limited political influence, and the vast numbers of slaves who formed the backbone of the economy. The family unit was central, governed by the paterfamilias, the male head who held absolute authority.
Culturally, the Romans were eclectic, absorbing and adapting elements from the civilizations they encountered, particularly the Greeks. Roman art, literature, and philosophy reflected this synthesis, creating a rich cultural tapestry. Latin, the Roman language, became the lingua franca of the Western world, influencing numerous modern languages.
Roman architecture and engineering achievements were monumental. They perfected the arch, vault, and dome, constructing enduring structures like the Colosseum, Pantheon, and aqueducts. These engineering marvels not only showcased Roman ingenuity but also served practical purposes, from public entertainment to water supply.
Home assignment II on Spectroscopy 2024 Answers.pdf
A school story
1. A SCHOOL STORY
by M.R. James
TWO men in a smoking-room were talking of their private-school days.
"At our school," said A., "we had a ghost's footmark on the staircase. What was it
like? Oh, very unconvincing. Just the shape of a shoe, with a square toe, if I remember
right. The staircase was a stone one. I never heard any story about the thing. That
seems odd, when you come to think of it. Why didn't somebody invent one, I
wonder?"
"You never can tell with little boys. They have a mythology of their own. There's a
subject for you, by the way--'The Folklore of Private Schools.'"
"Yes; the crop is rather scanty, though. I imagine, if you were to investigate the
cycle of ghost stories, for instance, which the boys at private schools tell each other,
they would all turn out to be highly-compressed versions of stories out of books."
"Nowadays the Strand and Pearson's, and so on, would be extensively drawn
upon."
"No doubt: they weren't born or thought of in my time. Let's see. I wonder if I can
remember the staple ones that I was told. First, there was the house with a room in
which a series of people insisted on passing a night; and each of them in the morning
was found kneeling in a corner, and had just time to say, 'I've seen it,' and died."
"Wasn't that the house in Berkeley Square?"
"I dare say it was. Then there was the man who heard a noise in the passage at
night, opened his door, and saw someone crawling towards him on all fours with his
eye hanging out on his cheek. There was besides, let me think---- Yes! the room
where a man was found dead in bed with a horseshoe mark on his forehead, and the
floor under the bed was covered with marks of horseshoes also; I don't know why.
Also there was the lady who, on locking her bedroom door in a strange house, heard a
thin voice among the bed-curtains say, 'Now we're shut in for the night.' None of those
had any explanation or sequel. I wonder if they go on still, those stories."
2. "Oh, likely enough--with additions from the magazines, as I said. You never heard,
did you, of a real ghost at a private school? I thought not, nobody has that ever I came
across."
"From the way in which you said that, I gather that you have."
"I really don't know, but this is what was in my mind. It happened at my private
school thirty odd years ago, and I haven't any explanation of it.
"The school I mean was near London. It was established in a large and fairly old
house--a great white building with very fine grounds about it; there were large cedars
in the garden, as there are in so many of the older gardens in the Thames valley, and
ancient elms in the three or four fields which we used for our games. I think probably
it was quite an attractive place, but boys seldom allow that their schools possess any
tolerable features.
"I came to the school in a September, soon after the year 1870; and among the
boys who arrived on the same day was one whom I took to: a Highland boy, whom I
will call McLeod. I needn't spend time in describing him: the main thing is that I got
to know him very well. He was not an exceptional boy in any way--not particularly
good at books or games--but he suited me.
"The school was a large one: there must have been from 120 to 130 boys there as a
rule, and so a considerable staff of masters was required, and there were rather
frequent changes among them.
"One term--perhaps it was my third or fourth--a new master made his appearance.
His name was Sampson. He was a tallish, stoutish, pale, black-bearded man. I think
we liked him: he had travelled a good deal, and had stories which amused us on our
school walks, so that there was some competition among us to get within earshot of
him. I remember too--dear me, I have hardly thought of it since then--that he had a
charm on his watch-chain that attracted my attention one day, and he let me examine
it. It was, I now suppose, a gold Byzantine coin; there was an effigy of some absurd
emperor on one side; the other side had been worn practically smooth, and he had had
cut on it--rather barbarously--his own initials, G.W.S., and a date, 24 July, 1865. Yes,
I can see it now: he told me he had picked it up in Constantinople: it was about the
size of a florin, perhaps rather smaller.
"Well, the first odd thing that happened was this. Sampson was doing Latin
grammar with us. One of his favourite methods--perhaps it is rather a good one--was
to make us construct sentences out of our own heads to illustrate the rules he was
trying to make us learn. Of course that is a thing which gives a silly boy a chance of
3. being impertinent: there are lots of school stories in which that happens--or any-how
there might be. But Sampson was too good a disciplinarian for us to think of trying
that on with him. Now, on this occasion he was telling us how to
express remembering in Latin: and he ordered us each to make a sentence bringing in
the verb memini, 'I remember.' Well, most of us made up some ordinary sentence such
as 'I remember my father,' or 'He remembers his book,' or something equally
uninteresting: and I dare say a good many put down memino librum meum, and so
forth: but the boy I mentioned--McLeod--was evidently thinking of something more
elaborate than that. The rest of us wanted to have our sentences passed, and get on to
something else, so some kicked him under the desk, and I, who was next to him,
poked him and whispered to him to look sharp. But he didn't seem to attend. I looked
at his paper and saw he had put down nothing at all. So I jogged him again harder than
before and upbraided him sharply for keeping us all waiting. That did have some
effect. He started and seemed to wake up, and then very quickly he scribbled about a
couple of lines on his paper, and showed it up with the rest. As it was the last, or
nearly the last, to come in, and as Sampson had a good deal to say to the boys who
had written meminiscimus patri meo and the rest of it, it turned out that the clock
struck twelve before he had got to McLeod, and McLeod had to wait afterwards to
have his sentence corrected. There was nothing much going on outside when I got out,
so I waited for him to come. He came very slowly when he did arrive, and I guessed
there had been some sort of trouble. 'Well,' I said, 'what did you get?' 'Oh, I don't
know,' said McLeod, 'nothing much: but I think Sampson's rather sick with me.' 'Why,
did you show him up some rot?' 'No fear,' he said. 'It was all right as far as I could see:
it was like this: Memento--that's right enough for remember, and it takes a genitive,--
memento putei inter quatuor taxos.' 'What silly rot!' I said. 'What made you shove that
down? What does it mean?' 'That's the funny part,' said McLeod. 'I'm not quite sure
what it does mean. All I know is, it just came into my head and I corked it down. I
know what I think it means, because just before I wrote it down I had a sort of picture
of it in my head: I believe it means "Remember the well among the four"--what are
those dark sort of trees that have red berries on them?' 'Mountain ashes, I s'pose you
mean.' 'I never heard of them,' said McLeod; 'no, I'll tell you--yews.' 'Well, and what
did Sampson say?' 'Why, he was jolly odd about it. When he read it he got up and
went to the mantel-piece and stopped quite a long time without saying anything, with
his back to me. And then he said, without turning round, and rather quiet, "What do
you suppose that means?" I told him what I thought; only I couldn't remember the
name of the silly tree: and then he wanted to know why I put it down, and I had to say
something or other. And after that he left off talking about it, and asked me how long
I'd been here, and where my people lived, and things like that: and then I came away:
but he wasn't looking a bit well.'
4. "I don't remember any more that was said by either of us about this. Next day
McLeod took to his bed with a chill or something of the kind, and it was a week or
more before he was in school again. And as much as a month went by without
anything happening that was noticeable. Whether or not Mr. Sampson was really
startled, as McLeod had thought, he didn't show it. I am pretty sure, of course, now,
that there was something very curious in his past history, but I'm not going to pretend
that we boys were sharp enough to guess any such thing.
"There was one other incident of the same kind as the last which I told you.
Several times since that day we had had to make up examples in school to illustrate
different rules, but there had never been any row except when we did them wrong. At
last there came a day when we were going through those dismal things which people
call Conditional Sentences, and we were told to make a conditional sentence,
expressing a future consequence. We did it, right or wrong, and showed up our bits of
paper, and Sampson began looking through them. All at once he got up, made some
odd sort of noise in his throat, and rushed out by a door that was just by his desk. We
sat there for a minute or two, and then--I suppose it was incorrect--but we went up, I
and one or two others, to look at the papers on his desk. Of course I thought someone
must have put down some nonsense or other, and Sampson had gone off to report him.
All the same, I noticed that he hadn't taken any of the papers with him when he ran
out. Well, the top paper on the desk was written in red ink--which no one used--and it
wasn't in anyone's hand who was in the class. They all looked at it--McLeod and all--
and took their dying oaths that it wasn't theirs. Then I thought of counting the bits of
paper. And of this I made quite certain: that there were seventeen bits of paper on the
desk, and sixteen boys in the form. Well, I bagged the extra paper, and kept it, and I
believe I have it now. And now you will want to know what was written on it. It was
simple enough, and harmless enough, I should have said.
"'Si tu non veneris ad me, ego veniam ad te,' which means, I suppose, 'If you don't
come to me, I'll come to you.'"
"Could you show me the paper?" interrupted the listener.
"Yes, I could: but there's another odd thing about it. That same afternoon I took it
out of my locker--I know for certain it was the same bit, for I made a finger-mark on it
and no single trace of writing of any kind was there on it. I kept it, as I said, and since
that time I have tried various experiments to see whether sympathetic ink had been
used, but absolutely without result.
"So much for that. After about half an hour Sampson looked in again: said he had
felt very unwell, and told us we might go. He came rather gingerly to his desk, and
5. gave just one look at the uppermost paper: and I suppose he thought he must have
been dreaming: anyhow, he asked no questions.
"That day was a half-holiday, and next day Sampson was in school again, much as
usual. That night the third and last incident in my story happened.
"We--McLeod and I--slept in a dormitory at right angles to the main building.
Sampson slept in the main building on the first floor. There was a very bright full
moon. At an hour which I can't tell exactly, but some time between one and two, I was
woken up by somebody shaking me. It was McLeod, and a nice state of mind he
seemed to be in. 'Come,' he said,--'come there's a burglar getting in through Sampson's
window.' As soon as I could speak, I said, 'Well, why not call out and wake everybody
up? 'No, no,' he said, 'I'm not sure who it is: don't make a row: come and look.'
Naturally I came and looked, and naturally there was no one there. I was cross
enough, and should have called McLeod plenty of names: only--I couldn't tell why--it
seemed to me that there was something wrong--something that made me very glad I
wasn't alone to face it. We were still at the window looking out, and as soon as I
could, I asked him what he had heard or seen. 'I didn't hear anything at all,' he said,
'but about five minutes before I woke you, I found myself looking out of this window
here, and there was a man sitting or kneeling on Sampson's window-sill, and looking
in, and I thought he was beckoning.' 'What sort of man?' McLeod wriggled. 'I don't
know,' he said, 'but I can tell you one thing--he was beastly thin: and he looked as if
he was wet all over: and,' he said, looking round and whispering as if he hardly liked
to hear himself, 'I'm not at all sure that he was alive.'
"We went on talking in whispers some time longer, and eventually crept back to
bed. No one else in the room woke or stirred the whole time. I believe we did sleep a
bit afterwards, but we were very cheap next day.
"And next day Mr. Sampson was gone: not to be found: and I believe no trace of
him has ever come to light since. In thinking it over, one of the oddest things about it
all has seemed to me to be the fact that neither McLeod nor I ever mentioned what we
had seen to any third person whatever. Of course no questions were asked on the
subject, and if they had been, I am inclined to believe that we could not have made
any answer: we seemed unable to speak about it.
"That is my story," said the narrator. "The only approach to a ghost story
connected with a school that I know, but still, I think, an approach to such a thing."
* * * * *
6. The sequel to this may perhaps be reckoned highly conventional; but a sequel there
is, and so it must be produced. There had been more than one listener to the story,
and, in the latter part of that same year, or of the next, one such listener was staying at
a country house in Ireland.
One evening his host was turning over a drawer full of odds and ends in the
smoking-room. Suddenly he put his hand upon a little box. "Now," he said, "you
know about old things; tell me what that is." My friend opened the little box, and
found in it a thin gold chain with an object attached to it. He glanced at the object and
then took off his spectacles to examine it more narrowly. "What's the history of this?"
he asked. "Odd enough," was the answer. "You know the yew thicket in the
shrubbery: well, a year or two back we were cleaning out the old well that used to be
in the clearing here, and what do you suppose we found?"
"Is it possible that you found a body?" said the visitor, with an odd feeling of
nervousness.
"We did that: but what's more, in every sense of the word, we found two."
"Good Heavens! Two? Was there anything to show how they got there? Was this
thing found with them?"
"It was. Amongst the rags of the clothes that were on one of the bodies. A bad
business, whatever the story of it may have been. One body had the arms tight round
the other. They must have been there thirty years or more--long enough before we
came to this place. You may judge we filled the well up fast enough. Do you make
anything of what's cut on that gold coin you have there?"
"I think I can," said my friend, holding it to the light (but he read it without much
difficulty); "it seems to be G.W.S., 24 July, 1865."
(End.)