 This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. IDA was a kindhearted girl, and one day when crossing a bridge near her home, she saw two boys in the back of the stream trying to drown a little dog. IDA, like all good girls, could not bear to anything suffer, and was brave enough to try and prevent it. So she ran to the shore, wringing her hand, and crying loudly. Oh, you bad wicked boys, how can you be so cool to that poor little dog? The boys looked at her in wonder, for they were more thoughtless than cruel, and one of them said, Father sold the rest of the pups, but could not sell this one, and so he told us he drowned it. But he should have done it himself, replied IDA, her pretty face fleshing with anger as she spoke, and not have trusted it to boys who would cause it needed fame. The dog had by this time reached the bank, and after politely shaking off the water, crept him toward IDA, as if he knew her for a friend. Poor little fellow said, patting his head tenderly. How pitiful he looked! Will you give him to me? Yes, said the boys, looking very foolish. We did not mean to be cruel, you may have him and welcome. IDA thanked the boys very sweetly and ran home. Oh, Mama, she cried. Look at this dear little dog. Two boys were trying to drown him in the creek, and I asked him to give him to me. May I give him, dear Mama? My dear child, said Mrs. Mason, which was the name of IDA's mother. I am very glad to hear that she saved the little creature from pain. We cannot very well keep him here, but perhaps in a few days we can find him someone who will be kind to him. IDA was a little disappointed, for we always love anything we have saved from death. But she said nothing, and you will see in the end how her goodness was rewarded. The next morning, IDA sat at the door of the cottage, dotting her lessons while her new pet little Karla, as she had named the dog, played at her feet. A pleasant-looking young lad, who was walking slowly down the road, switching the tall grass as he came, stopped to look at the pretty picture. His name was Eugene Morris, and he was the son of a rich gentleman who lived nearby. Good morning, IDA, he said with a bow and a smile. Is that pretty little dog yours? Yes, sir, said IDA, blushing a little. But Mama says I must give him away, because we cannot afford to keep him. IDA then told the story of the dog, and how she had saved him from the hands of the thoughtless boy, and finished by saying that she was only keeping him until she could find some kind person who would take good care of him. Eugene looked much better at the story, and after a short pause said, Well, pretty IDA, I do not ask you to give him to me, but if you will sell him, I will take him with pleasure. Here are five dollars, will that pay for Karla? We do not want any pay for good Karla, said IDA, patting the little creature tenderly, except the promise of kind treatment, and that I am sure he will get from you. Eugene looked pleased at this, and said goodbye, then till tomorrow, went slowly down the road, and was soon out of sight. The next morning, Eugene came, and took Karla away, leaving five dollars with Mrs. Mason, which he compelled her to take, for he knew she was poor and a widow. IDA cried a little when Karla whined for her, but she knew that he would be in good hands, and soon dried her tears. One morning, about two years after Karla had gone with his new master, IDA was standing upon the same bridge, looking at some fish, which darted about in the water at this play. At last, they went further under the bridge, and IDA, leaning over a little too far, in her ignorance to see them, lost her balance, and fell over the low rail into the reef, which at that point was deep enough to drown her. She had, but just time to give one loud cry of fright, as she sunk beneath the cruel water. In a moment, she rose to the top but only to sink again. Who, IDA? Is there no one to help her? Yes, the good God who watches over the smallest of his creatures has not forgotten little IDA. A large duck who lay lazily winking in the sunshine a little way off has heard her cry. He pricks up his ears, and comes swiftly toward her, with great relief, barking loud as he jumps. In a moment, he plunges into the creek and catches IDA by her dress, just as she is about to sink for the last time. IDA is heavy, and cannot help herself, but the duck is strong and brave, and swimming and tugging with all his might, he soon brings her in safety to the shore, then pulling her head out of the water, so that it rested on the soft grass. He raised his head in the air, opened his great mouth, and barked long and loudly for help. And help was near. The master of the docks, a tall, handsome boy, came running up. Why, color boy, what's the matter? He said cheerily. But in a moment, he saw IDA still partly in the water, with her eyes closed, as if dead. He at once drew her up on the bank, when she soon opened her eyes and looked around as if she did not know where she was. But Eugene mourned, for it was he that said, What? Little IDA nearly drowned? Why? How in the world did you get in the water? IDA was now well enough to tell her story, and after she had finished, Eugene called her attention to the docks, at the same time, wrapping IDA in his overcoat and leading her toward her home. Don't you know him? He said, it is your old friend, Carla, and now he has saved yours in return. How strange are the ways of God? The very dog which IDA saved from death two years before had now been able to pay his debt to the tender-hearted little girl on the same spot. This surely is not a chance, but seems to show that good deeds are awarded even in this world. Carla, who was a well-bred dog, had taken himself drive by time, putting his nose against IDA's dress, as if to say. Don't you know your old friend? As she was still weak from the shock of the fall and the fright, Eugene went home with her and explained the thing to the alarmist's mason, after which he took his leave, promising to come and see her the next day. Eugene was as good as his word, and early the next morning came down to the widow's cottage, accompanied by a gentleman about four years old, whom IDA had never seen before. Carla, of course, was in the party and was made much of by everybody, receiving a great deal of attention, which he accepted with much dignity, sitting up on his hind legs, wagging his tail, and giving vent, now and then, to a short a mind-bark of thanks to his kind friend. The gentleman, who was Eugene's father, Mr. Morris, after kissing little IDA said, this little girl whom I have brought to see is my only daughter, Lottie, and you were the means of her having been saved from drowning. I had a look of surprise at this what's coming up to see. Not long since, went on Mr. Morris, our good Carla saved her life, just as he did yours yesterday. Eugene tells me that but for your goodness of heart, Carla would have been killed when he was a puppy, and in that case, I should have had no little Lottie today for there was no one near at that time but the nurse, who was too much frightened to be of any use. I desired Mr. Mason with your permission to make IDA a little present. So, saying he kissed IDA again, put a small pack into her hand and bowing politely to the surprise Mr. Mason, left the cottage with his party before he find words to thank him. The package proved to be a bank book in which IDA was credited with $5,000 in her own name. This is Mr. Morris' little present. Mrs. Mason owned the cottage in which she lived but nothing more and was obliged to late and late to gain his scanty support for IDA and herself. This money was therefore great wealth to them and would enable Ms. Mason to fulfill the dearest wish of her heart, which was to give a good education to her beloved IDA. Every kind action I think is rewarded either here or hereafter yet we should try to do good for its own sake and leave their result to the great father of us all. And of Karla, our kindness rewarded. This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org The Cast of a Montillado by Edgar Allen Poe thousands of injuries of Portunato I had borne as best I could but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, we so well know the nature of my soul will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged. This is a point definitively settled but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the Avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong. It must be understood that neither nor deed had I given Portunato calls to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my want, to smile in his face and he did not perceive that my smile now was a thought of his immolation. He had a weak point, this Portunato, although in other regards he was a man too respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity to practice imposter upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemery Portunato like his countrymen was a quack. But in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially. I was skillful in the Italian vintages myself and bought largely whenever I could. It was about dusk one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight fitting party striped dress and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done ringing his hand. I said to him, my dear Portunato you are luckily met, how remarkably well you are looking today. But I have received a pipe of what passes for a Montillardo and I have my dowse. How? said he, a Montillardo a pipe impossible and in the middle of the carnival. I have my dowse, I replied and I was silly enough to pay the full a Montillardo price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found and I was fearful of losing a bargain. A Montillardo! I have my dowse. A Montillardo! And I must satisfy them. A Montillardo! As you are engaged I am on my way to Luchisi. If anyone has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me Luchisi cannot tell a Montillardo from Sherry. And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own. Come, let us go. Wither. To your vaults. My friend, no, I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement, Luchisi. I have no engagement, come. My friend, no, it is not the engagement but the severe cold which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitra. Let us go. Nevertheless, the cold is merely nothing, a Montillardo. You have been imposed upon and that's for Luchisi. He cannot distinguish Sherry from a Montillardo. Thus, speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a rocolaire closely about my person. I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo. There were no attendants at home. They had absconded to make merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to ensure their immediate disappearance one and all as soon as my back was turned. I took from their sconces two flambeaux and giving one to Fortunato bowed him through several suites and rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed out a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent and stood together on the damp grounds of the concrete combs of the Montresors. The gate of my friend was unsteady and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode. The pipes, said he, it is further on, said I, but observed the white web work which gleams from these cavern walls. I looked towards me and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the room of intoxication. Nitra, he asked me, Nitra, I replied, how long have you had that call? My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes. It is nothing, he said at last. Come, I said with decision, we will go back, your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved, you are happy as once I was. It is nothing to be missed. For me, it is no matter. We will go back. You will be ill and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is, Lucey. Enough, he said. The call is mere nothing. It will not kill me. I shall not die of a call. Croom, to do, I replied. And indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily, but you should use all proper caution. I'll draw to this meddock will defend us from the damps. The long row of exbellos that lay upon the mold. Drink, I said, presenting him the wine. He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly while his bell shingled. I drank, he said, to the buried that repose around us, and I to your long life. He took my arm, and we proceeded. These vaults, he said, are extensive. The Montressaufts, I replied, were a great and numerous family. Don't forget your arms!" A huge human foot door, in a field à jour, the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are embedded in the heel, and the motto, Nemo moi impune la caissette. Good, he said, the wine sparkled in his eyes, and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through the walls of piled bones, with casks and hunchens intermingling and the innermost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to see Sforcinato by an arm above the elbow. The nitra, I said, see it increases, it hangs like moss upon the vaults, we are below the river's bed, the drops of moisture trickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it's too late, your call. It is nothing, he said, let us go on, but first another drawl to the Medoc. I broke, and reached him aflagan of the grav. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with the first light. He had laughed, and threw the bottle upwards, with a gesticulation I did not understand. I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement, a grotesque one. How bruhin, he said. Not I, I replied. Then you are not the brotherhood. How? You are not of the masons. Yes. Yes, I said. Yes. Yes. You! Impossible! A mason! A mason! I replied. A sigh! He said. It is this, I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of my rocolaire. You jest! He exclaimed, recalling a few paces, but let us proceed to the Amontillado. Be it so, I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak, and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route, in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again arrived at a deep crypt in which the foulness of the air caused our foam bow, rather to glow than flame. At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another, less spacious. Its walls had been aligned with human remains piled to the vault overhead in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth, the bones had been thrown down and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by this placing of the bones, we perceived a still interior recess in depth about four feet in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no special use in itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of the circumscribing walls of solid granite. It was in vain that the fortuneado uplifting his dull torch endeavored to pry into the depths of the recess. His termination, if he will lie, did not enable us to see. Proceed, I said, herein is the amontillado. As furloughed cheesy, he is an ignoramus, interrupted my friend as he stepped unsteadily forward while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite, and its surface were two iron staples distant from each other about two feet horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain from the other, a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist was with the work of a few seconds to secure it. It was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key, I stepped back from the recess. Past your hand, I said, over the wall, you cannot help feeling the nitra. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more, let me implore you to return. No, that I must positively leave you, but I must first render you all of the little attentions in my power. Theamontillado, ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment. True, I replied, Theamontillado. As I said these words, I busyed myself among the pile of bones which I had before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials, and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche. I scarcely the first tear of my masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low, moaning cry from the depths of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken pan. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tear, and the third, and the fourth, and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might harken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours, and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tear. The wall was narrow, nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeau over the mason work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within. A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting subtly from the throat of the chain form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated. I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier I began to grope at about the recess. With the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I re-approached the wall. I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed. I aided. I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamour grew still. It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tear. I had finished a portion of the last, and the eleventh there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight. I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out in each a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said, A very good joking deed, an excellent jest. We'll have many a rich laugh about it at the Palazzo, over our wine. The Amontillado, I said. Yes, the Amontillado, but is it not getting late? Will not there be a waiting-ness of the Palazzo, the Lady Fortunato, and the rest? Let us be gone. Yes, I said. Let us be gone. For the love of God, Montresor! Yes, I said, for the love of God. But to these words I harkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud, Fortunato! No answer. I called again, Fortunato! No answer still. I thrust a torch to the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick on account of the deadness of the catacombs. I hastened to make an end of my labor. I forced the last stone into its position. I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For half of a century no mortal has disturbed them in Pacha or Cuesca. End of The Cask of Amontillado. The celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County by Mark Twain. This is a Libervox recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libervox.org. Recording by David Federman. The celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County by Mark Twain. In compliance with the request of a friend of mine who wrote me from the east, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired after my friend's friend, Leonidas W. Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereon to append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that Leonidas W. Smiley is a myth, and that my friend never knew such a personage, and that he only conjectured that if I asked old Wheeler about him it would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley. And he would go to work and bore me to death with some exasperating reminiscence of him, as long and as tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it succeeded. I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar room stove of the dilapidated tavern in the Decade Mining Camp of Angels, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up and gave me good day. I told him a friend had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smiley, Reverend Leonidas W. Smiley, a young minister of the Gospel who he had heard was at one time a resident of Angels' Camp. I added that if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything about this Reverend Leonidas W. Smiley, I would feel under many obligations to him. Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his chair, and then sat down and reeled off the monotonous narrative which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he never changed his voice from the gentle flowing key to which he tuned his initial sentence. He never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm, but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnestness and sincerity which showed me plainly that, so far from his imagining that there was anything ridiculous or funny about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter and admired its two heroes as men of transcendent genius and finesse. I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him once. Reverend Leonidas W. Hmm, Reverend Leonidas W. Well, there was a feller here once by the name of Jim Smiley in the winter of 49, or maybe it was the spring of 50. I don't recollect exactly, somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I remember the big flume who aren't finished when he came to the camp. But anyway, he was the curiousest man about, always betting on anything that turned up you ever see, if he could get anybody to bet on the other side, and if he couldn't, he'd change sides. Anyway, that suited the other man would suit him. Anyway, just so as he got a bet, he was satisfied. But still, he was lucky. Uncommon lucky. He most always come out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance. There couldn't be no sultry thing mentioned but that feller offered a bet on it. And take any side you please as I was just telling you. If there was a horse race, you'd find him flush or you'd find him busted at the end of it. If there was a dog fight, he'd bet on it. If there was a cat fight, he'd bet on it. If there was a chicken fight, he'd bet on it. Why, if there was two birds sitting on a fence, he would bet you which one would fly first. Or if there was a camp meeting, he would be there regular to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged to be the best exhorter about here. And he was too, and a good man. If he even sees a straddle bug start to go anywhere, he would bet you how long it would take him to get to, to wherever he was going to. And if you took him up, he would follow that straddle bug to Mexico, but what he would find out where he was bound for and how long he was on the road. Lots of the boys here have seen that smiling can tell you about him. Why, it never made no difference to him. He'd bet on anything. The dangest feller. Parson Walker's wife laid very sick once. For a good while and it seemed as if they weren't going to save her. But one morning he come in and smiley up and asked him how she was, and he said she was considerable better. Thank the Lord for his infant mercy, and coming on so smart that with the blessings of Proudin she'd get well yet. And smiley, before he thought says, I'll risk two and a half she don't anyway. This year, smiley had a mare. The boys called her the 15 minute nag, but that was only in fun, you know. Because of course, she was faster than that. And he used to win money on that horse. For all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper of consumption, or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred yards start, and then pass her under way, but always at the fag end of the race she'd get excited and desperate like, and come cavorting and straddle enough, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the air, and sometimes out to one side amongst the fences, and kicking up more dust and raising more racket with her cough and sneezing and blowing her nose, and always fetched up at the stand just about neck ahead, as near as you could cipher it down. And he had a little small bull pup, that to look at him you'd think he weren't worth a cent, but to sit around and look ornery, and lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him, he was a different dog. His under jaw'd begin to stick out like the foe castle of a steamboat, and his teeth would uncover and shine like the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him and bully rag him and bite him and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson, which was the name of the pup. Andrew Jackson would never let on, but what he was satisfied. And hadn't expected nothing else, and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time till the money was all up, then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog just by the jint of his hide and legs and freeze to it. Not shy, you understand, but only just grip and hang on till they throwed up the sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winter on that pup, till he harnessed a dog once that didn't have no hind legs, because they'd been sought off in a circular saw. And when the thing had gone along far enough, the money was all up, he'd come to make a snatch for his pet halt, and he'd seen in a minute how he'd been imposed on, and how the other dog had him in the door, so to speak. And he peered surprised, and then looked sort of discouraged like, didn't try no more to win the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He gave Smiley a look, as much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault for putting up a dog that had no hind legs for him to take hold of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson? And would have made a name for himself if he'd lived. The stuff was in him and he had genius. I know it, because he had no opportunities to speak of, and it don't stand to reason that a dog would make such a fight, as he could under them circumstances if he had no talent. It always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his and the way it turned out. Well, this year Smiley had rat terriers, and chicken cocks, and Tom cats, and all them kind of things, till you couldn't rest and you couldn't fetch nothing for him to bed on, but he'd match you. He catched a frog one day and took him home, said he'd cowlated to educate him. And so he never done nothing for three months but sat in his backyard and learned that frog to jump. And you bet he did, learn him too. He'd give him a little punch behind and the next minute you'd see that frog whirling in the air like a donut. See him turn one summer set? Maybe a couple if he got a good start, and come down flat footed and all ride like a cat. He got him up so in the manner of catching flies and kept him in practice so constant that he'd nail a fly every time his furs he could see him. Smiley said all the frog wanted was education, and he could do most anything. And I believe him. Well I've seen him set Daniel Webster down here on this floor. Daniel Webster was the name of this frog, and seeing how it flies, Daniel flies, and quicker and new could wink he'd spring up and snake fly off in the counter there and flop down on the floor again as solid as a gobba mud, and fall to scratch in the side of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doing any more than any frog might do. You never see a frog so monster and straightforward as he was for all he was so gifted. And when it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit you understand, and when it came to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might be, but fellas that had traveled and been everywhere all said he laid over any frog that ever they see. Well Smiley kept the little beast in a little lattice box, and he used to fetch them downtown sometimes and lay for a bet. One day a feller, a stranger in the camp he was, come across him with his box and says, what might be that you got in the box? And Smiley says, sort of indifferent like, it might be a parrot, or it might be a canary, maybe, but it ain't. It's only just a frog. And the feller took it and looked at it carefully and turned it around this way and that says, hmm so it is. Well what's he good for? Well, Smiley says easy and careless, he's good enough for one thing, I should judge, he can out jump any frog in Calaveras County. The feller took the box again and took another long particular look and gave it back to Smiley and says very deliberate, well he says, I don't see no pants about that frog, it's better than any other frog. Maybe you don't, Smiley says, maybe you understand frogs and maybe you don't understand them, maybe you've had experience and maybe you ain't only an amateur as it were. Anyways, I got my opinions and I'll risk $4 that he can out jump any frog in Calaveras County. And the feller studied a minute and then says kind or sad like, well I'm only a stranger here and I ain't got no frog, but if I had a frog I'd bet you. And then Smiley says, that's alright, that's alright, if you'll hold my box a minute I'll go and get you a frog. And so the feller took the box and put up his $40 along with Smiley's and sat down to wait. So he sat there a good while thinking and thinking to his self and then he got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a teaspoon and filled him full of quail shot, filled, and pretty near up to his chin and set him on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the mud for a long time and finally he catched a frog and fetched him in and give him to this feller and says, now if you're ready set him along the side of Daniel with his forepaws just even with Daniel's and I'll give the word and he says one, two, three, get. And him and the feller touched up the frogs from behind and the new frog hopped off lively but Daniel gave a heave and hissed up his shoulders so like a Frenchman but it weren't no use. He couldn't budge, he was planted as solid as a church and he couldn't know more stir than if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good deal surprised, he was disgusted too, he didn't have no idea what the matter was of course. The feller took the money and started to weigh and when he was going out at the door he sort of jerked his thumb over his shoulders so what Daniel says again very deliberate, well he says I don't see no pints about that frog that's any better than any other frog. Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Daniel a long time and at last says I do wonder what in the nation that frog throwed off for I wonder if there ain't something to matter with him he appears to look mighty baggy somehow and he catch Daniel up by the nape of his neck and hefted him and says I blame my cats if you don't weigh five pounds and turned him upside down and he belched out a double handful of shot and then he see how it was and he was the maddest man he set the frog down and took after that feller but he never catched him and here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard and got up to see what was wanted and turning to me as he moved away he said just sit where you are stranger and rest easy I ain't gonna be gone a second but by your leave I did not think that a continuation of the history of the enterprising vagabond Jim Smiley would be likely to afford me much information concerning the reverend Leonidas W. Smiley and so I started away at the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning and he buttonholed me and recommenced well this year Smiley had a yaller one eyed cow that didn't have no tail only just a short stump like a banana and however lacking both time and inclination I did not wait to hear about the afflicted cow but took my leave end of the celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County recording by David Federman this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the Christmas tree and the wedding by Fyodor Dostoevsky the other day I saw a wedding but no I would rather tell you about a Christmas tree the wedding was superb I liked it immensely but the other incident was still finer I don't know why it is that the site of the wedding reminded me of the Christmas tree this is the way it happened exactly five years ago on a New Year's Eve I was invited to a children's ball by a man high up in the business world who had his connections his circle of acquaintances and his intrigues so it seemed as though the children's ball was merely a pretext for the parents to come together and discuss matters of interest to themselves quite innocently and casually I was an outsider and as I had no special matters to air I was able to spend the evening independently of the others there was another gentleman present like myself had just stumbled upon this affair of domestic bliss he was the first to attract my attention his appearance was not that of a man of birth or high family he was tall rather thin very serious and well dressed apparently he had no heart for the family festivities the instant he went off into a corner by himself the smile disappeared from his face and his thick dark brows knitted into a frown he knew no one except the host and showed every sign of being bored to death bravely sustaining the role of thorough enjoyment to the end later I learned that he was a provincial had come to the capital on some important brainwracking business had brought a letter of recommendation to our host and our host had taken him under his protection but not at all cona more it was merely out of politeness that he had invited him to the children's ball they did not play cards with him they did not offer him cigars no one entered into conversation with him possibly they recognized the bird by its feathers from a distance thus my gentleman not knowing what to do with his hands was compelled to spend the entire evening stroking his whiskers his whiskers were really fine but he stroked them so assiduously that one got the feeling that the whiskers had come into the world first and afterwards the man in order to stroke them there was another guest who interested me but he was of quite a different order he was a personage they called him julian mustakovich at first glance one could tell that he was an honored guest and stood in the same relation to the host as the host to the gentleman of the whiskers the host and hostess said no end of amiable things to him were most attentive whining him hovering over him bringing guests to be introduced but never leading him to anyone else i noticed tears glisten in our host's eyes when julian mustakovich remarked that he had rarely spent such a pleasant evening somehow i began to feel uncomfortable in his personages presence so after amusing myself with the children five of whom remarkably well-fed young persons were our hosts i went into a little sitting room entirely unoccupied and seated myself at the end that was a conservatory and took up almost half the room the children were charming they absolutely refused to resemble their elders notwithstanding the efforts of mothers and governesses in a jiffy they had denuded the christmas tree down to the very last suite and had already succeeded in breaking half of their playthings before they even found out which belonged to whom one of them was a particularly handsome middle lad dark eyed curly haired who stubbornly persisted in aiming at me with his wooden gun but the child that attracted the greatest attention was his sister a girl of about 11 lovely as a cupid she was quiet and thoughtful with large full dreamy eyes the children had somehow offended her and she left them and walked into the same room that i had withdrawn into there she seated herself with a doll in a corner her father is an immensely wealthy businessman the guests informed each other in tones of awe 300 000 rubles set aside for her dowry already as i turned to look at the group from which i heard this news item issuing my glance met julian masticovic's he stood listening to the insipid chatter in an attitude of concentrated attention with his hands behind his back and his head inclined to one side all the while i was quite lost in admiration of the shrewdness our host displayed in the dispensing of the gifts the little maid of the many ruby dowry received the handsomest doll and the rest of the gifts were graded in value according to the diminishing scale of the parents stations in life the last child a tiny chap of 10 thin red-haired freckled came into possession of a small book of nature stories without illustrations or even head and tail pieces he was the child of the governess she was a poor widow and her little boy clad in a sorry looking little nanking jacket looked thoroughly crushed and intimidated he took the book of nature stories and circled slowly about the children's toys he would have given anything to play with them but he did not dare to you could tell he already knew his place i like to observe children it is fascinating to watch the individuality in them struggling for self assertion i could see that the other children's things had tremendous charm for the red-haired boy especially a toy theater in which he was so anxious to take apart that he resolved to fond upon the other children he smiled and began to play with them his one and only apple he handed over to a puffy urchin whose pockets were already crammed with sweets and he even carried another youngster piggyback all simply that he might be allowed to stay with the theater but in a few minutes an impudent young person fell on him and gave him a pummeling he did not dare even to cry the governess came and told him to leave off interfering with the other children's games and he crept away to the same room the little girl and i were in she let him sit down beside her and the two set themselves busily dressing the expensive doll almost half an hour passed and i was nearly dozing off as i sat there in the conservatory half listening to the chatter of the red-haired boy in the dower beauty when julian mistakovich entered suddenly he had slipped out of the drawing room under cover of a noisy scene among the children from my secluded corner it had not escaped my notice that a few moments before he had been eagerly conversing with the rich girl's father to whom he had only just been introduced he stood still for a while reflecting and mumbling to himself as if counting something on his fingers 300 311 12 13 16 in five years let's say four percent five times 12 60 and so the 60 let us assume that in five years it will amount to well 400 but the shodled fox isn't likely to be satisfied with four percent he gets eight or even 10 perhaps let's suppose 500 500 000 at least that's sure anything above that for pocket money he blew his nose and was about to leave the room when he spied the girl and stood still i behind the plants escaped his notice he seemed to me to be quivering with excitement it must have been his calculations that upset him so he rubbed his hands and dance from place to place and kept getting more and more excited finally however he conquered his emotions and came to a standstill he cast a determined look at the future bride and wanted to move toward her the glanced about first then as if with a guilty conscience he stepped over to the child on tiptoe smiling and bent down and kissed her head his coming was so unexpected that she uttered a shriek of alarm what are you doing here dear child he whispered looking around and pinching her cheek we're playing what with him said julian mistakovich with a good look at scans at the governess's child you should go into the drawing room my lad he said to him the boy remained silent and looked up at the man with wide open eyes julian mistakovich glanced around again cautiously and bent down over the girl what have you got a doll my dear yes sir the child quailed a little and her brow wrinkled a doll and you know my dear what dolls are made of no sir she said weakly and lowered her head out of rags my dear you boy you go back to the drawing room to the children said julian mistakovich looking at the boy sternly the two children frowned they caught hold of each other and would not part and do you know why they gave you the doll has julian mistakovich dropping his voice lower and lower no because you were a good very good little girl the whole week saying which julian mistakovich was seized with the paroxysm of agitation he looked round and said in a faint tone almost inaudible with excitement and impatience if i come to visit your parents will you love me my dear he tried to kiss the sweet little creature but the red-haired boy saw that she was on the verge of tears and he caught her hand and sobbed out loud and sympathy that enraged the man go away go away go back to the drawing room to your playmates i don't want him to i don't want him to you go away cried the girl let him alone let him alone she was almost weeping there was a sound of footsteps in the doorway julian mistakovich started and straightened up his respectable body the red-haired boy was even more alarmed he let go the hand of the girl sidled along the wall and escaped through the drawing room into the dining room not to attract attention julian mistakovich also made for the dining room he was read as a lobster the sight of himself in a mirror seemed to embarrass him presumably he was annoyed at his own ardor and impatience without due respect to his importance and dignity his calculations had lured and prickled him to the greedy eagerness of a boy who makes straight for his object so this was not yet an object it only would be so in five years time i followed the worthy man into the dining room where i witnessed a remarkable play julian mistakovich all flushed with vexation venom in his look began to threaten the red-haired boy the red-haired boy retreated farther and farther until there was no place left for him to retreat to and he did not know where to turn in his fright get out of here what are you doing here get out i say you good for nothing stealing fruit are you oh so stealing fruit get out you freckle face go to your likes frightened child as a last desperate resort crawled quickly under the table his persecutor completely infuriated pulled out his large linen handkerchief and used it as a lash to drive the boy out of his position here i must remark that julian mistakovich was a somewhat corpulent man heavy well-fed puffy cheeked with a punch and ankles as round as nuts he perspired and puffed and panted so strong was his dislike or was a jealousy of the child that he actually began to carry on like a madman i laughed heartily julian mistakovich turned he was utterly confused and for a moment apparently quite oblivious of his immense importance at that moment our host appeared in the doorway opposite the boy crawled out from under the table and wiped his knees and elbows julian mistakovich hastened to carry his handkerchief which had been dangling by the corner to his nose our host looked at the three of us rather suspiciously but like a man who knows the world and can readily adjust himself he sees upon the opportunity to lay hold of his very valuable guest and get what he wanted out of him here's the boy i was talking to you about he said indicating the red-haired child i took the liberty of presuming on your goodness in his behalf oh replied julian mistakovich still not quite master of himself he's my governess's son our host continued in a beseeching tone she's a poor creature the widow of an honest official that's why if it were possible for you impossible impossible julian mistakovich cried hastily you must excuse me philip alexeyovich i really cannot i've made inquiries there are no vacancies and there is a waiting list of ten who have a greater right i'm very sorry too bad said our host he's a quiet unobtrusive child a very naughty little rascal i should say said julian mistakovich riley go away boy why are you still here be off with you to the other children unable to control himself he gave me a side long glance nor could i control myself i laugh straight in his face he turned away and asked our host and toned quite audible to me who that odd young fellow was they whispered to each other and left the room disregarding me i shook with laughter then i too went to the drawing room there the great man already surrounded by the fathers and mothers and the host and the hostess had begun to talk eagerly with a lady to whom he had just been introduced the lady held the rich little girl's hand julian mistakovich went into fulsome praise of her he waxed ecstatic over the dear child's beauty her talents her grace her excellent breeding plainly lain himself out to flatter the mother who listened scarcely able to restrain tears of joy while the father showed his delight by a gratified smile the joy was contagious everybody shared in it even the children were obliged to stop playing so as not to disturb the conversation the atmosphere was surcharged with awe i heard the mother of the important little girl touched to her profoundest depths asked julian mistakovich and the choicest language of courtesy whether he would honor them by coming to see them i heard julian mistakovich accept the invitation with unfaigned enthusiasm then the guests scattered decorously to different parts of the room and i heard them with veneration in their tones extoll the businessman the businessman's wife businessman's daughter and especially julian mistakovich is he married i asked out loud of an acquaintance of mine standing beside julian mistakovich julian mistakovich gave me a venomous look no answered my acquaintance profoundly shocked by my intentional indiscretion not long ago i passed the church i was struck by the concourse of people gathering there to witness a wedding it was a dreary day a drizzling rain was beginning to come down i made my way through the throng into the church the bridegroom was a round well-fed potbellied little man very much dressed up he ran and fussed about and gave orders and arranged things finally word was passed that the bride was coming i pushed through the crowd and i beheld a marvelous beauty whose first spring was scarcely commencing but the beauty was pale and sad she looked distracted it seemed to me even that her eyes were red from recent weeping the classic severity of every line of her face imparted a peculiar significance and solemnity to her beauty but through that severity and solemnity through the sadness shown the innocence of the child there was something inexpressibly naive unsettled and young in her features which without words seemed to plead for mercy it said she was just 16 years old i looked at the bridegroom carefully suddenly i recognized julian mistakovich whom i had not seen again in all those five years then i looked at the bride again good god i made my way as quickly as i could out of the church i heard gossiping in the crowd about the bride's wealth about her dowry of 500 000 rubles so and so much for pocket money then his calculations were correct i thought as i pressed out into the street end of the christmas tree and the wedding by fidor dosayevsky deseret's baby by kate Chopin this is a libravox recording all libravox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox.org recording by linda mcdaniel deseret's baby by kate Chopin as the day was pleasant madame valmondet drove over to la brie to see deseret and the baby it made her laugh to think of deseret with the baby why it seemed but yesterday that deseret was little more than a baby herself when mesure in riding through the gateway of valmondet had found her lying asleep in the shadow of the big stone pillar the little one awoke in his arms and began to cry for da da that was as much as she could do or say some people thought that she might have strayed there of her own accord for she was of the toddling age the prevailing belief was that she had been purposefully left there by a party of texans whose canvas covered wagon late in the day had crossed the ferry that coton maze kept just below the plantation in time madame valmondet abandoned every speculation but the one that deseret had been sent to her by a beneficent providence to be the child of her affection seeing that she was without child of the flesh for the girl grew to be beautiful and gentle affectionate and sincere the idol of valmondet it was no wonder when she stood one day against the stone pillar in whose shadow she had lain asleep eighteen years before that armond abanyi riding by and seeing her there had fallen in love with her that was the way all the obonnies fell in love as if struck by a pistol shot the wonder was that he had not loved her before for he had known her since his father brought him home from paris a boy of eight after his mother died there the passion that awoke in him that day when he saw her at the gate swept along like an avalanche or like a prairie fire or like anything that drives headlong over all obstacles monsieur valmondet grew practical and wanted things well considered that is the girl's obscure origin armond looked into her eyes and did not care he was reminded that she was nameless what did it matter about a name when he could give her one of the oldest and proudest in louisiana he ordered the corbella from paris and contained himself with what patience he could until it arrived then they were married madame valmondet had not seen deseret and the baby for four weeks when she reached la brie she shattered at the first sight of it as she always did it was a sad looking place which for many years had not known the gentle presence of a mistress all monsieur obonnie having married and buried his wife in france and she having loved her own land too well ever to leave it the roof came down steep and black like a cow reaching out beyond the wide galleries that encircled the yellow stuccoed house big solemn oaks grew close to it and their thick-leaved far-reaching branches shattered it like a paul young obonnie's rule was a strict one too and under it his negroes had forgotten how to be gay as they had been during the old master's easygoing and indulgent lifetime the young mother was recovering slowly and lay full length in her soft white muslins and laces upon a couch the baby was beside her upon her arm where he had fallen asleep at her breast the yellow nursewoman sat beside a window fanning herself madame valmondet bent her portly figure over deseret and kister holding her an instant tenderly in her arms then she turned to the child this is not the baby she exclaimed in startled tones french was the language spoken at valmondet in those days i knew you would be a stonish left deseret at the way he has grown the little cushion delay look at his legs mama and his hands and fingernails real fingernails zandreen had to cut them this morning isn't it so zandreen the woman bowed her turbaned head majestically missy madame and the way he cries when on deseret is deafening armand heard him the other day as far away as love lunch's cabin madame valmondet had never removed her eyes from the child she picked it up and walked with it over to the window that was lightest she scanned it narrowly then looked as searchingly at zandreen whose face was turned to gaze across the fields yes the child has grown has changed said madame valmondet slowly as she replaced it beside its mother what does armand say deseret's face became suffused with a glow that was happiness itself oh armand is the proudest father in the parish i believe chiefly because it's a boy to bear his name though he says not that he would have loved a girl as well but i know it isn't true i know he says that to please me and mama she added drawing madame valmondet's head down to her and speaking in a whisper he hasn't punished one of them not one of them since baby is born even negrilan who pretended to have burnt his leg that he might rest from work he only laughed and said negrilan was a great scam oh mama i'm so happy it frightens me what deseret said was true marriage and later the birth of his son had softened armand obinu's imperious and exacting nature greatly this was what made the gentle deseret so happy for she loved him desperately when he frowned she trembled but loved him when he smiled she asked no greater blessing of god but armand's dark handsome face had not often been disfigured by frown since the day he fell in love with her when the baby was about three months old deseret awoke one day to the conviction that there was something in the air menacing her peace it was at first too subtle to grasp it had only been a disquieting suggestion an air of mystery among the blacks unexpected visits from far off neighbors who could hardly account for their coming then a strange and awful change in her husband's manner which she dared not ask him to explain when he spoke to her it was with averted eyes from which the old love light seemed to have gone out he absented himself from home and when there avoided her presence and that of her child without excuse and the very spirit of satan seems suddenly to take hold of him in his dealings with the slaves deseret was miserable enough to die she sat in her room one hot afternoon in her penoir listlessly drawing through her fingers the strands of her long silky brown hair that hung about her shoulders the baby half naked lay asleep upon her own great mahogany bed that was like a sumptuous throne with its satin-lined half canopy one of love lunch's little quadroom boys half naked too stood fanning the child slowly with a fan of peacock feathers deseret's eyes had been fixed absently and sadly upon the baby while she was striving to penetrate the threatening mist that she felt closing about her she looked from her child to the boy who stood beside him and back again over and over ah it was a cry that she could not help which she was not conscious of having uttered the blood turned like ice in her veins and a clammy moisture gathered upon her face she tried to speak to the little quadroom boy but no sound would come at first when he heard his name uttered he looked up and his mistress was pointing to the door he laid aside the great soft fan and immediately stole away over the polished floor on his bare tiptoes she stayed motionless with gaze riveted upon her child and her face the picture of fright presently her husband into the room and without noticing her went to a table and began to search among some papers which covered it armand she called to him in a voice which must have stabbed him if he was human but he did not notice armand she said again then she rose and tottered toward him armand she panted once more clutching his arm look at our child what does it mean tell me he coley but gently loosened her fingers from about his arm and thrust the hand away from him tell me what it means she cried despairingly it means he answered lightly that the child is not white it means that you are not white a quick connection of all that this accusation meant to her nerved her with unwanted courage to deny it it is a lie it is not true i am white look at my hair it is brown and my eyes are gray armand you know they are gray and my skin is fair seizing his wrist look at my hand whiter than yours armand she laughed hysterically as white as love lunches he said cruelly and went away leaving her alone with her child when she could hold a pen in her hand she sent a despairing letter to madame valmonday my mother they tell me i am not white armand has told me i am not white for god's sake tell them it is not true you must know it is not true i shall die i must die i cannot be so unhappy and live the answer that came was as brief my own desiree come home to valmonday back to your mother who loves you come with your child when the letter reached desiree she went with it to her husband's study and laid it open upon the desk before which he sat she was like a stone image silent white motionless after she placed it there in silence he ran his cold eyes over the written words he said nothing shall i go armand she asked in tones sharp with agonized suspense yes go do you want me to go yes i want you to go he thought almighty god had dealt cruelly and unjustly with him and felt somehow that he was paying him back in kind when he stabbed thus into his wife's soul moreover he no longer loved her because of the unconscious injury she had brought upon his home and his name she turned away like one stunned by a blow and walked slowly towards the door hoping he would call her back goodbye armand she moaned he did not answer her this was his last blow at fate after it was dealt he felt like a remorseless murderer desiree went in search of her child zandrine was pacing the somber gallery with it she took the little one from the nurse's arms and with no word of explanation and descending the steps walked away under the live oak branches it was an october afternoon out in the still fields the negroes were picking cotton and the sun was just sinking desiree had not changed the thin white garment nor the slippers which she wore her head was uncovered and the sun's rays brought a golden gleam from its brown meshes she did not take the broad beaten road which led to the far-off plantation of valmond day she walked across a deserted field where the stubble bruised her tender feet so delicately shod and tore her thin gown to shreds she disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep sluggish bayou and she did not come back again some weeks later there was a curious scene enacted at labri in the center of the smoothly swept backyard was a great bonfire armand au beignet sat in the wide hallway that commanded a view of the spectacle and it was he who dealt out to a half dozen negroes the material which kept this fire ablaze a graceful cradle of willow with all its dainy furbishings was laid upon the pyre which had already been fed with the richness of a priceless lait then there was silk gowns and velvet and satin ones added to these two laces to and embroideries bonnets and gloves for the corbeia had been of rare quality the last thing to go was a tiny bundle of letters innocent little scribblings that desiree had sent to him during the days of their espousal there was the remnant of one back in the drawer from which he took them but it was not desirees it was part of an old letter from his mother to his father he read it she was thanking god for the blessing of her husband's love but above all she wrote night and day i thank the good god for having so arranged our lives that our dear armand will never know that his mother who adores him belongs to the race that is cursed with the brand of slavery this concludes the reading of Desiree's baby by Kate Chopin read for you by linda mcdaniel headland to georgia november 2008 the gift of the magi by oh henry this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox.org recording by Stephanie Bryant the gift of the magi by oh henry one dollar and eighty seven cents that was all and sixty cents of it was in pennies pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied three times dela counted it one dollar and eighty seven cents and the next day would be christmas there was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl so dela did it which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs sniffles and smiles with sniffles predominating while the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second take a look at the home a furnished flat at eight dollars per week it did not exactly beggar description but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad in the vestibule below was a letter box into which no letter would go and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring also appertaining there into was a card bearing the name mr. james dillingham young the dillingham had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid thirty dollars per week now when the income was shrunk to twenty dollars though they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming d but whenever mr. james dillingham young came home and reached his flat above he was called jim and greatly hugged by mrs. james dillingham young already introduced to you as dela which is all very good dela finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag she stood by the window and looked out deli at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard tomorrow would be christmas day and she had only one dollar eighty seven cents with which to buy jim a present she had been saving every penny she could for months with this result twenty dollars a week doesn't go far expenses had been greater than she had calculated they always are only one dollar eighty seven cents to buy a present for jim her jim many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him something fine and rare and sterling something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by jim there was a pure glass between the windows of the room perhaps you have seen a pure glass in an eight dollar flat a very thin and very agile person may by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks dela being slender had mastered the art suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass her eyes were shining brilliantly but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length now there were two possessions of the james dillingham youngs in which they both took a mighty pride one was jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's the other was dela's hair had the queen of sheba lived in the flat across the air shaft dela would have let her hair hang out the window someday to dry just to depreciate her majesty's jewels and gifts had king solemn bend the janitor with all his treasures piled up in the basement jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed just to see him pluck at his beard from envy so now dela's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters it reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her and then she did it up again nervously and quickly once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet on went her old brown jacket on went her old brown hat with a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street where she stopped the sign read madam sulfurny hair goods of all kinds one flight up dela ran and collected herself panting madam large too white chili hardly looked the sulfurny will you buy my hair asked dela i buy hair said madam take your hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it down rippled the brown cascade twenty dollars said madam lifting the mask with a practiced hand give it to me quick said dela oh and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings forget the hashed metaphor she was ransacking the stores for jim's present she found it at last it surely had been made for jim and no one else there was no other like it in any of the stores and she had turned all of them inside out it was a platinum fob chain simple and chased in design properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation as all good things should do it was even worthy of the watch as soon as she saw it she knew that it must be jim's it was like him quietness and value the description applied to both twenty one dollars they took from her for it and she hurried home with the eighty seven cents with that chain on his watch jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company grand as the watch was he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain when dela reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason she got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love which is always a tremendous task dear friends a mammoth task within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny close lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy she looked at her reflection in the mirror long carefully and critically if jim doesn't kill me she said to herself before he takes a second look at me he'll say i look like a coney island chorus girl but what could i do oh what could i do with a dollar and eighty seven cents at seven o'clock the coffee was made and the frying pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops jim was never late dela doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight and she turned white for just a moment she had a habit of saying a little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things and now she whispered please god make him think i am still pretty the door opened and jim stepped in and closed it he looked thin and very serious poor fellow he was only twenty two and to be burdened with a family he needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves jim stopped inside the door as immovable as a setter at the scent of a quail his eyes were fixed upon dela and there was an expression in them that she could not read and it terrified her it was not anger nor surprise nor disapproval nor horror nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for he simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face dela wriggled off the table and went for him jim darling she cried don't look at me that way i had my hair cut off and sold because i couldn't have lived through christmas without giving you a present it'll grow out again you won't mind will you i just had to do it my hair grows awfully fast say merry christmas jim and let's be happy you don't know what a nice what a beautiful nice gift i've got for you you've cut off your hair asked jim laboriously as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor cut it off and sold it said dela don't you like me just as well anyhow i'm me without my hair ain't i jim looked about the room curiously you say your hair is gone he said with an air almost of idiocy you need to look for it said dela it's sold i tell you sold and gone too it's christmas eve boy be good to me for it went for you maybe the hairs of my head were numbered she went on with sudden serious sweetness but nobody could ever count my love for you shall i put the chops on jim out of his trance jim seemed quickly to wake he unfolded his dela for 10 seconds let us regard with discrete scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction eight dollars a week or a million a year what is the difference a mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer the magi brought valuable gifts but that was not among them this dark assertion will be illuminated later on jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table don't make any mistake dal he said about me i don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less but if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first white fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper and then an ecstatic scream of joy and then alas a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat for there lay the combs the set of combs side and back that dela had worshiped long in a broadway window beautiful combs pure tortoise shell with jeweled rims just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair they were expensive combs she knew and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession and now they were hers but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone but she hugged them to her bosom and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say my hair grows so fast jim and then dela leaped up like a singed cat and cried oh oh jim had not yet seen his beautiful present she held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm the dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit isn't it a dandy jim i hunted all over town to find it you'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now give me your watch i want to see how it looks on it instead of obeying jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled del said he let's put our christmas presents away and keep them a while they're too nice to use jesset present i sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs and now suppose you put the chops on the manjai as you know were wise men wonderfully wise men who brought gifts to the babe in the manger they invented the art of giving christmas presents being wise their gifts were no doubt wise ones possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication and here i have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house but in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest of all who give and receive gifts such as they are wisest everywhere they are wisest they are the manjai and of the gift of the manjai by o henry recording by stefanie brant el paso taxes dot mortain dot com slash blog november 16 2008 in zakhar off by lord duncany this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox dot o rg recording by gc four new in zakhar off by lord duncany come said the king in sacred zakhar off and let our prophets prophecy before us a far-seen jewel of light was the holy palace a wonder to the nomads on the plains there was the king with all his underlords and the lesser kings that did him vasalage and there were all his queens with all their jewels upon them who shall tell of the splendor in which they sat of the thousand lights and the answering emeralds of the dangerous beauty of that horde of queens while a flash of their laden necks there was a necklace there of rose pink pearls beyond the art of the dreamer to imagine who shall tell of the amethyst chandeliers where torches soaked in rare barinian oils burned and gave off a scent of blethany this herb marvelous which growing near the summit of mount zaunos sense all the zaunian range and is smelt far out on the kipaskrin plains and even when the wind is from the mountains in the streets of the city of aghanath at night it closes its petals and is heard to breathe and its breath is a swift poison this it does even by day if the snows are disturbed about it no plant of this has ever been captured alive by a hunter enough to say that when the dawn came up it appeared by contrast pallid and unlovely and stripped bare of all its glory so that it hid itself with rolling clouds then the heralds stepped through the ranks of the king's silk clad warriors who they oiled and scented upon velvet cloaks with a pleasant breeze among them caused by the fans of slaves even their casting spears were set with jewels through their ranks the heralds went with mincing steps and came to the prophets clad and brown and black and one of them they brought and set before the king and the king looked at him and said prophecy unto us and the prophet lifted his head so that his beard came clear from his brown cloak and the fans of the slaves that found the warriors wafted the tip of it a little awry and he spake to the king and spake thus woe unto thee king and woe unto Zacharath woe unto thee and woe unto thy women for your fall shall be sore and soon already in heaven the gods shun thy god they know his doom and what is written of him he sees oblivion before him like a mist thou hast aroused the hate of the mountaineers they hate thee all along the crags of Droom the evilness of thy day shall bring down the zedians on thee as the sons of springtide bring the avalanche down they shall do unto Zacharath as the avalanche doth unto the hamlets of the valley when the queens chattered or tittered among themselves he merely raised his voice and still spake on woe to these walls and the carbon things upon them the hunter shall know the camping places of the nomads by the marks of the campfires on the plain but he shall not know the place of Zacharath a few of the recumbent warriors turned their heads to glance at the prophet when he ceased far overhead the echoes of his voice hummed on a while among the cedern rafters is he not splendid said the king and many of that assembly beat with their palms upon the polished floor in token of applause then the prophet was conducted back to his place at the far end of that mighty hall and for a while musicians played on marvelous curved horns while drums throbbed behind them hidden in a recess the musicians were sitting cross-legged on the floor all blowing their huge horns in the brilliant torchlight but as the drums throb louder in the dark they arose and moved slowly nearer to the king louder and louder drum the drums in the dark and nearer and nearer moved the men with the horns so that their music should not be drowned by the drums before it reached the king a marvelous scene it was when the tempestuous horns were halted before the king and the drums in the dark were like the thunder of god and the queens were nodding their heads in time to the music with their diadems flashing like heavens of falling stars and the warriors lifted their heads and shook as they lifted them the plumes of those golden birds which hunters wait for by the leadian lakes in a whole lifetime killing scarcely six to make the crests that the warriors wore when they feasted in zakara then the king shouted and the warriors sang almost they remembered then old battle chance and as they sang the sound of the drums dwindled and the musicians walked away backwards and the drumming became fainter and fainter as they walked and altogether ceased and they blew no more on their fantastic horns then the assemblage beat on the floor with their palms and afterwards the queens besought the king to send for another prophet and the heralds brought a singer and placed him before the king and the singer was a young man with a harp and he swept the strings of it and when there was silence he sang of the iniquity of the king and he foretold the onrush of the zedians and the fall and the forgetting of zakara and the coming again of the desert to its own and the playing about of little lion cubs where the courts of the palace had stood of what is he singing said a queen to a queen he is singing of everlasting zakara as the singer ceased the assemblage beat listlessly on the floor and the king nodded to him and he departed when all the prophets had prophecy to them and all the singers sung the royal company arose and went to other chambers weaving the hall of festival to the pale and lonely dawn and alone were left the lion headed gods that were carboned out of the walls silent they stood and their rocky arms were folded and shadows over their faces moved by curious thoughts as torches flickered and the dull dawn crossed the fields and the colors began to change in the chandeliers when the last looteness fell asleep the birds began to sing never was greater splendor were a more famous hall when the queens went away through the curtain door with all their diadems it was as though the stars should arise in their stations and troop together to the west at sunrise and only the other day i found a stone that had undoubtedly been a part of zakara it was three inches long and an inch broad i saw the edge of it uncovered by the sand i believe only three other pieces have been found like it end of in zakara by lord duncany john g by kathryn mayo this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox.org recording by floating dave john g by kathryn mayo it was nine o'clock of a wild night in december for 48 hours it had been raining raining raining after a heavy fall of snow still the torrents descended lashed by a screaming wind and song of rushing water mingled with the cry of the gale each steep street of the hill town of greensburg lay inches deep under a tearing flood the cold was as great as cold may be while rain is falling a night to give thanks for shelter overhead and to hug the hearth with gratitude for sergeant price at his desk in the barrack's office was honorably grinding law most honorably because when he had gone to take the buck from the shelf in the day room barrack room ballads had smiled down upon him with a heart aching echo of the soft familiar east so that of a sudden he had fairly smelt the sweet strange heathen smell of the temples of tian zin had seen the flash of a parrot swing in the bolo tooth philippine jungle and the sight and the smell on a night like this were enough to make any man lonely therefore it was with honor indeed that instead of dreaming off into the radiant past through the wealth on book of magic he was digging between deep sheepskin covers after the key to the bar of the state on which his will was fixed now a man who being a member of the pennsylvania state police aspires to qualify admission to the bar as his work cut out for him the calls of his regular duty endless and numbering kind leave him no certain leisure and few and broken are the hours that he gets for books confound the latin grumble the sergeant grabbing his head with two hands well anyway here's my night for it even the crooks will lie snug and weather like this and he took a fresh hold of the poser suddenly buzz went the bell beside him and before its voice ceased he stood at salute the door the captain's office sergeant said captain atoms with a half turn of his desk chair how soon can you take to the field five minutes sir there's trouble over in the foundry town the local authorities have jailed some i w w plotters they state that jail delivery is threatened that the sheriff can't control it and that they believe the mob will run amuck generally and shoot up the town take a few men go over and attend to it very well sir in the time that goes to saddling a horse the detailed road into the storm first sergeant price on john g leading john g had belonged to the force exactly as long as had the first sergeant himself which was from the dawn of the forces existence and john g is a gentleman and a soldier every inch of him horse show judges have affixed their seal to the self-evident fact by the sign of the blue ribbon but the best proof lies in the personal knowledge of a troop soundly built on twelve years brotherhood john g on that deluvian night was 22 years old and still every wit as cleaned limbed alert and plucky as the salad days had seen him men and horses dived into the gal as swimmers dive into a breaker it beat their eyes shut with wind in driven water and as they slid down the hurt pitched city streets the flood banked up against each planted hoof till it split and folds above the fetlock down in the county beyond mud slush and water clogged with chunks of frost stricken clay made worse and still worse going and so they pushed on through the blackest turmoil toward the river road that should be their highway to logans ferry they reached that road at last only to find it as lost as atlantis under 20 feet of water the aligainy had overflowed her banks and now there remain no way across short of following the stream up to pittsburgh and so around a detour of many miles long and evil and that said first sergeant price means getting to the party about four hours late baby talking nonsense by that time they might have burned a place and killed all the people in it let's see now there's a railroad bridge close along here somewhere they scouted till they found the bridge but behold its floor was of cross ties only of sleepers to carry the rails laid with wide breaks between gaping down to the deep dark space whose bed was a roaring river nevertheless said for sergeant price whose spirits ever soar at the foolish onslaughts of trouble nevertheless we're not going to ride 20 miles further for nothing there's a railroad yard on the other side this bridge here runs straight into it you two men go over get a couple of good planks and find out when the next train is due the two troopers whom the sergeant indicated gave their horses to comrades and started across the trestle for a moment those who stayed behind could distinguish the rays of their pocket flashlights as they picked out the slimy foothold then the whirling night engulfed them lights and all the sergeant led the remainder of the detail down into the lee of an abutment to avoid the full drive of the storm oh well they stood waiting huddled together but the wait was not long presently like a code signal spelled out on the black overhead came a series of steady lengthening flashes the pocket light glancing between the sleepers as the returning messengers drew near scrambling out to rail level the sergeant saw with contempt that his emissaries bore on their shoulders between them two new pine two by twelve's no trains due till five o'clock in the morning reported the first across good now lay the planks in the middle of the track end to end so the sergeant dismounting stood at john g's wise old head stroking his muzzle whispering into his ear come along john it's all right old man he finished with the final caress then he led john g to the first plank one of you men walk on each side of him now john delicately nervously john g said his feet step by step till he had reached the center of the second plank then the sergeant talked to him quietly again while two troopers picked up the board just quitted to lay it in advance and so length by length they made the passage the horse moving with extremist caution shivering with full appreciation of the unaccustomed danger yet steady by his master's presence and by the friend on either hand as they move the gale reeked all its fury on them it was growing colder now and the rain changed to sleep stung their skin with its tiny sharp driven blades the skeleton bridge held them high suspended in the very heart of the storm once and again a sudden more violent gust bit fair to sweep them off their feet yet slowly progressing they made their port unharmed then came the next horse's turn more than a single mount they dared not lead over at once lest the contagious fears of one reacting on another produce panic the horse that should rear or shy on that wide meshed footing would be fairly sure to break a leg at best so one by one they followed over each reaching the farther side before his successor began the transit and so at last all stood on the opposite bank ready to follow john g once more as he led the way to duty come along john old man you know how you'd hate to find a lot of dead women and babies because we got there too late to save them make a paste johnny boy the first sergeant was talking gently leaning over his pommel but john g was listening more from politeness than because he needed a lift his ride was as steady as a clock it was three hours after midnight and that bitter black morning as they entered the streets of the town and the streets were as quiet as peaceful as empty of men as the heart of the high woods where's a mob girl the sergeant guess its mother put it to sleep a cold wet trooper growled back well we thought there was going to be trouble protested the local power roused from his feather bed it really did look like serious trouble i assure you and we could not handle serious trouble with the means that are a command moreover there may easily be something yet so gentlemen i am greatly relieved you have come i can sleep in peace now that you are here good night good night all through the remaining hours of darkness the detail patrolled the town all through the lean pale hours of dawn it carefully watched its awakening guarding each danger point but never a sign of disturbance did the passing time bring forth at last with the coming of the business day the sergeant sought out the principal man of the place and from them ascertained the truth threats of a jail delivery there had been an a noisy parade as well but nothing had occurred or promised beyond the power of an active local officer to handle such was the statement of one and all i'll just make sure said the sergeant to himself till two o'clock in the afternoon the detail continued its patrols the town and its outskirts remained of an exemplary ease at two o'clock the sergeant reported by telephone to his captain place is perfectly quiet sir nothing seems to have happened beyond the usual demonstration of a sympathizing crowd over an arrest unless something more bright the sheriff should be entirely capable of handling the situation or in port back to the barracks at once said that the captain of a troop there's real work waiting here the first sergeant hanging up this receiver went out and gathered his men still the storm was raging icy snow blinding sheets of sharp fangs smothered rode on the racing wind worse overhead worse underfoot would be hard to meet in years of winters but once again men and horses without an interval of rest struck into the open country once again on the skeleton bridge they made the precarious crossing and so at a quarter to nine o'clock at night the detail topped greensburg's last ice coated hill and entered the yard of its high perched barracks as the first sergeant slung the saddle off john g smoking back corporal richison farrier of the troop appeared before him wearing a mean a solemn and grieve displeasure it's all very well he said all very well no doubt but eight to six miles in 24 hours in weather like this is a great deal for any horse and john g is 22 years old as perhaps you may remember i brought the medicine three solid hours from that very moment the two men worked over john g and when at 12 o'clock they put him up for the night not a wet hair was left on him as they washed and rubbed in bandage they talked together mingling the sergeant's trenchantly humorous common sense with the corporal's mellow philosophy but mostly it was the corporal that spoke for 24 hours is a fair working day for a sergeant as well as a true force i believe in my soul said the sergeant that if a man rode into the stable with two arms shot off at the shoulders you'd make him groom his horse with his teeth and his toes for a couple hours before you'd let him hunt a doctor well rejoin corporal richison in his soft southern tongue and what if i did even if that man died of it it thanked me heartily afterward you know when you and i and the rest of the world each in our turn come to heaven's gate there'll be saint peter before it with a key's safe in his pocket and over the shining wall behind from the inside mind you will be poking a great lot of heads innocent heads with innocent eyes heads of horses and of all the other animals that on this earth are friends of man put at his mercy and helpless and it's clear to me over john just so boy that before saint peter unlocks the gate for a single one of us he'll turn around that long row of heads and he'll say less at animals in the field of paradise is this a man that should enter and if the animals they that were placed in his hands on earth to prove the heart that was within him if the immortal animals have lot to say against that man never will the good saint let him in with his dirty mean stain upon him never you'll see sergeant when your times come now will you give those tendons another 10 minutes next morning john g walked out of his stall as fresh and as fit as if he had come from pasture and to this very day in the stable of a troop john g handsome happy enable does his friends honor end of john g by kathryn mail recording by floating dave the kiss by kate schopen this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox dot org recording by carolyn francis the kiss by kate schopen it was still quite light out of doors but inside with the curtains drawn and the smoldering fire sending out a dim uncertain glow the room was full of deep shadows brandain sat in one of these shadows it had overtaken him and he did not mind the obscurity lent him courage to keep his eyes fastened as ardently as he liked upon the girl who sat in the firelight she was very handsome with a certain fine rich coloring that belongs to the healthy broon type she was quite composed as she idly stroked the satiny coat of the cat that laid curled in her lap and she occasionally sent a slow glance into the shadow where her companion sat they were talking low of indifferent things which plainly were not the things that occupied their thoughts she knew that he loved her a frank blustering fellow without guile enough to conceal his feelings and no desire to do so for two weeks past he had sought her society eagerly and persistently she was confidently waiting for him to declare himself and she meant to accept him the rather insignificant and unattractive brandain was enormously rich and she liked and required the entourage which wealth could give her during one of the pauses between their talk of the last tea and the next reception the door opened and a young man entered whom brandain knew quite well the girl turned her face toward him a strider to brought him to her side and bending over her chair before she could suspect his intention for she did not realize that he had not seen her visitor he pressed an ardent lingering kiss upon her lips brandain slowly arose so did the girl arise but quickly and the newcomer stood between them a little amusement and some defiance struggling with the confusion in his face i believe stampered brandain i see i have stayed too long i i had no idea that is i must wish you goodbye he was clutching his hat with both hands and probably did not perceive that she was extending her hand to him her presence of mind had not completely deserted her but she could not have trusted herself to speak hang me if i saw him sitting there natty i know it's doos it awkward for you but i hope you'll forgive me this once this very first break why what's the matter don't touch me don't come near me she returned angrily what do you mean by entering the house without ringing i came in with your brother as i often do he answered coldly in self-justification we came in the sideway he went upstairs and i came in here hoping to find you the explanation is simple enough and ought to satisfy you that the misadventure was unavoidable but do say that you forgive me natty he entreated softening forgive you you don't know what you are talking about let me pass it depends upon a good deal whether i ever forgive you at that next reception which she and brandain had been talking about she approached the young man with a delicious frankness of manner when she saw him there will you let me speak to you a moment or two mr brandain she asked with an engaging but perturbed smile he seemed extremely unhappy but when she took his arm and walked away with him seeking a retired corner a ray of hope mingled with the almost comical misery of his expression she was apparently very outspoken perhaps i should not have sought this interview mr brandain but but oh i have been very uncomfortable almost miserable since that little encounter the other afternoon when i thought how you might have misinterpreted it and believed things hope was plainly gaining the ascendancy over misery and brandain's round guyless face of course i know it is nothing to you but for my own sake i do want you to understand that mr harvey is an intimate friend of longstanding why we have always been like cousins like brother and sister i may say he is my brother's most intimate associate and often fancies that he is entitled to the same privileges as the family oh i know it is absurd uncalled for to tell you this dignified even she was almost weeping but it makes so much difference to me what you think of of me her voice had grown very low and agitated the misery had all disappeared from brandain's face then you do really care what i think miss natalie may i call you miss natalie they turned into a long dim corridor that was lined on either side with tall graceful plants they walked slowly to the very end of it when they turned to retrace their steps brandain's face was radiant and hers was triumphant harvey was among the guests at the wedding and he sought her out in a rare moment when she stood alone your husband he said smiling has sent me over to kiss you a quick blush suffused her face and round polished throat i suppose it's natural for a man to feel and act generously on an occasion of this kind he tells me he doesn't want his marriage to interrupt holy that pleasant intimacy which has existed between you and me i don't know what you've been telling him with an insolent smile but he has sent me here to kiss you she felt like a chess player who by the clever handling of his pieces sees the game taking the course intended her eyes were bright and tender with a smile as they glanced up into his and her lips looked hungry for the kiss which they invited but you know he went on quietly i didn't tell him so it would have seemed ungrateful but i can tell you i've stopped kissing women it's dangerous well she had brandtain and his million left a person can't have everything in this world and it was a little unreasonable of her to expect it end of the kiss