{ "run": "longform-2026-10", "title": "Speech recognition on long dictation: 4-minute recordings against the same speech in short pieces", "date": "2026-10-25", "hardware": { "chip": "Apple M2 Pro", "memoryGB": 16, "os": "macOS 26.6.2" }, "engines": { "parakeet": { "name": "Parakeet TDT 0.6B v3", "maker": "NVIDIA", "how": "NVIDIA Parakeet TDT 0.6B v3 converted to Core ML (Parakeet Ultra, FluidInference, model revision 95eaa59a39d4), run through FluidAudio 0.17.4 on the CPU and GPU, with the language given. This is the engine the Yap app uses on Mac." }, "whisper": { "name": "Whisper large-v3-turbo", "maker": "OpenAI", "how": "OpenAI Whisper large-v3-turbo, 5-bit quantized (ggml-large-v3-turbo-q5_0.bin), run through whisper.cpp 1.9.4 with Metal on the GPU, with the language given." }, "apple": { "name": "Apple SpeechTranscriber", "maker": "Apple", "how": "Apple's on-device speech model in macOS 26 (SpeechAnalyzer with a SpeechTranscriber module, transcription preset), with the locale given (en-US, de-DE, fr-FR, es-MX, it-IT, pt-BR)." } }, "corpus": { "dataset": "LibriSpeech-Long (Park et al. 2024, Google DeepMind), test-clean", "archive": "https://storage.googleapis.com/librispeech_long/v0_1.tar.gz", "archiveMd5": "cecbc46bda7659a49b9c096cac4e40b8", "license": "CC BY 4.0 (LibriSpeech-Long and LibriSpeech)", "paper": "https://arxiv.org/abs/2412.18603", "source": "https://github.com/google-deepmind/librispeech-long", "selection": "in every test-clean chapter, its first example (file order) of at least 180 seconds", "conditions": [ "whole", "pieces" ], "pieces": "pieces of 10 to 20 seconds, each ending at the quietest 100 ms between 10 and 20 seconds after its start (cut in its middle); the last piece is the rest", "rule": "in every test-clean chapter, its first example (in file order) of at least MIN_SECONDS (3 minutes: long dictation;\n the shorter ones are a chapter's tail), which gives 84 examples from all 40 speakers, 5.45 hours; each example in two\n conditions:\n whole the example as ONE recording, as a person dictating for minutes without stopping would hand it over\n pieces the SAME audio cut into pieces of PIECE_MIN to PIECE_MAX seconds, as a person dictating in short bursts would:\n each piece ends at the quietest tenth of a second (lowest RMS over 100 ms) between PIECE_MIN and PIECE_MAX\n seconds after it starts, cut in the middle of that tenth; the last piece is what remains (at most PIECE_MAX).\n The pieces' transcripts are joined in order and scored against the example's whole transcript.\n Each cut's level is recorded (dB below the example's active speech level); in read speech the quietest tenth of a\n second in a 10-second stretch is a pause between words, and `cutsNotInPause` counts the cuts that are not at least\n 25 dB below speech.\nThe audio is handed over unchanged (16 kHz, 16-bit); nothing else differs between the two conditions, so the difference\nin word error rate is what the length of the recording costs each engine.", "note": "The recordings and transcripts are LibriSpeech-Long's (Se Jin Park, Julian Salazar, Aren Jansen, Keisuke Kinoshita, Yong Man Ro and R. J. Skerry-Ryan, Google DeepMind, 2024, CC BY 4.0), made from LibriSpeech (Vassil Panayotov, Guoguo Chen, Daniel Povey and Sanjeev Khudanpur, ICASSP 2015, CC BY 4.0), which is read from public-domain LibriVox audiobooks. The cut points, error rates and transcripts are our measurement, released under CC BY 4.0 like every dataset on this site.", "examples": [ { "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "chapter": "134686", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1089/134686/134686_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "ca2c1499d93a46b46047d78a90618e8449f8349b2a3c428aefe2a8a1fe98ea27", "seconds": 230.46, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 36.7, 36.6, 38.2, 37.4, 37.5, 37.4, 36.8, 37.1, 36.8, 37.6, 37.3, 37.3, 36.4, 37.2, 32.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HE HOPED THERE WOULD BE STEW FOR DINNER TURNIPS AND CARROTS AND BRUISED POTATOES AND FAT MUTTON PIECES TO BE LADLED OUT IN THICK PEPPERED FLOUR FATTENED SAUCE. STUFF IT INTO YOU HIS BELLY COUNSELLED HIM. IT WOULD BE A GLOOMY SECRET NIGHT. AFTER EARLY NIGHTFALL THE YELLOW LAMPS WOULD LIGHT UP HERE AND THERE THE SQUALID QUARTER OF THE BROTHELS. HE WOULD FOLLOW A DEVIOUS COURSE UP AND DOWN THE STREETS CIRCLING ALWAYS NEARER AND NEARER IN A TREMOR OF FEAR AND JOY UNTIL HIS FEET LED HIM SUDDENLY ROUND A DARK CORNER. HE WOULD PASS BY THEM CALMLY WAITING FOR A SUDDEN MOVEMENT OF HIS OWN WILL OR A SUDDEN CALL TO HIS SIN LOVING SOUL FROM THEIR SOFT PERFUMED FLESH. YET AS HE PROWLED IN QUEST OF THAT CALL HIS SENSES STULTIFIED ONLY BY HIS DESIRE WOULD NOTE KEENLY ALL THAT WOUNDED OR SHAMED THEM HIS EYES A RING OF PORTER FROTH ON A CLOTHLESS TABLE OR A PHOTOGRAPH OF TWO SOLDIERS STANDING TO ATTENTION OR A GAUDY PLAYBILL HIS EARS THE DRAWLING JARGON OF GREETING. HELLO BERTIE ANY GOOD IN YOUR MIND. NUMBER TEN FRESH NELLY IS WAITING ON YOU GOOD NIGHT HUSBAND. COMING IN TO HAVE A SHORT TIME. THE EQUATION ON THE PAGE OF HIS SCRIBBLER BEGAN TO SPREAD OUT A WIDENING TAIL EYED AND STARRED LIKE A PEACOCK'S AND WHEN THE EYES AND STARS OF ITS INDICES HAD BEEN ELIMINATED BEGAN SLOWLY TO FOLD ITSELF TOGETHER AGAIN. THE INDICES APPEARING AND DISAPPEARING WERE EYES OPENING AND CLOSING THE EYES OPENING AND CLOSING WERE STARS BEING BORN AND BEING QUENCHED. THE VAST CYCLE OF STARRY LIFE BORE HIS WEARY MIND OUTWARD TO ITS VERGE AND INWARD TO ITS CENTRE A DISTANT MUSIC ACCOMPANYING HIM OUTWARD AND INWARD WHAT MUSIC. THE MUSIC CAME NEARER AND HE RECALLED THE WORDS THE WORDS OF SHELLEY'S FRAGMENT UPON THE MOON WANDERING COMPANIONLESS PALE FOR WEARINESS. THE STARS BEGAN TO CRUMBLE AND A CLOUD OF FINE STARDUST FELL THROUGH SPACE. THE DULL LIGHT FELL MORE FAINTLY UPON THE PAGE WHEREON ANOTHER EQUATION BEGAN TO UNFOLD ITSELF SLOWLY AND TO SPREAD ABROAD ITS WIDENING TAIL. IT WAS HIS OWN SOUL GOING FORTH TO EXPERIENCE UNFOLDING ITSELF SIN BY SIN SPREADING ABROAD THE BALE FIRE OF ITS BURNING STARS AND FOLDING BACK UPON ITSELF FADING SLOWLY QUENCHING ITS OWN LIGHTS AND FIRES. THEY WERE QUENCHED AND THE COLD DARKNESS FILLED CHAOS. A COLD LUCID INDIFFERENCE REIGNED IN HIS SOUL. AT HIS FIRST VIOLENT SIN HE HAD FELT A WAVE OF VITALITY PASS OUT OF HIM AND HAD FEARED TO FIND HIS BODY OR HIS SOUL MAIMED BY THE EXCESS. INSTEAD THE VITAL WAVE HAD CARRIED HIM ON ITS BOSOM OUT OF HIMSELF AND BACK AGAIN WHEN IT RECEDED AND NO PART OF BODY OR SOUL HAD BEEN MAIMED BUT A DARK PEACE HAD BEEN ESTABLISHED BETWEEN THEM. THE CHAOS IN WHICH HIS ARDOUR EXTINGUISHED ITSELF WAS A COLD INDIFFERENT KNOWLEDGE OF HIMSELF. HE HAD SINNED MORTALLY NOT ONCE BUT MANY TIMES AND HE KNEW THAT WHILE HE STOOD IN DANGER OF ETERNAL DAMNATION FOR THE FIRST SIN ALONE BY EVERY SUCCEEDING SIN HE MULTIPLIED HIS GUILT AND HIS PUNISHMENT. HIS DAYS AND WORKS AND THOUGHTS COULD MAKE NO ATONEMENT FOR HIM THE FOUNTAINS OF SANCTIFYING GRACE HAVING CEASED TO REFRESH HIS SOUL" }, { "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "chapter": "134691", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1089/134691/134691_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "2574a424b0ec935e2b7d51dcf8558b2c883da95dbb560464e9e5954d69b743e3", "seconds": 236.69, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 32.8, 32.7, 31.8, 32.0, 31.7, 32.2, 29.3, 31.3, 32.4, 31.2, 31.8, 31.8, 31.8, 31.8, 32.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HE COULD WAIT NO LONGER. A FULL HOUR HAD PASSED SINCE HIS FATHER HAD GONE IN WITH DAN CROSBY THE TUTOR TO FIND OUT FOR HIM SOMETHING ABOUT THE UNIVERSITY. FOR A FULL HOUR HE HAD PACED UP AND DOWN WAITING BUT HE COULD WAIT NO LONGER. HE SET OFF ABRUPTLY FOR THE BULL WALKING RAPIDLY LEST HIS FATHER'S SHRILL WHISTLE MIGHT CALL HIM BACK AND IN A FEW MOMENTS HE HAD ROUNDED THE CURVE AT THE POLICE BARRACK AND WAS SAFE. YES HIS MOTHER WAS HOSTILE TO THE IDEA AS HE HAD READ FROM HER LISTLESS SILENCE. YET HER MISTRUST PRICKED HIM MORE KEENLY THAN HIS FATHER'S PRIDE AND HE THOUGHT COLDLY HOW HE HAD WATCHED THE FAITH WHICH WAS FADING DOWN IN HIS SOUL AGEING AND STRENGTHENING IN HER EYES. A DIM ANTAGONISM GATHERED FORCE WITHIN HIM AND DARKENED HIS MIND AS A CLOUD AGAINST HER DISLOYALTY AND WHEN IT PASSED CLOUD LIKE LEAVING HIS MIND SERENE AND DUTIFUL TOWARDS HER AGAIN HE WAS MADE AWARE DIMLY AND WITHOUT REGRET OF A FIRST NOISELESS SUNDERING OF THEIR LIVES. THE UNIVERSITY. SO HE HAD PASSED BEYOND THE CHALLENGE OF THE SENTRIES WHO HAD STOOD AS GUARDIANS OF HIS BOYHOOD AND HAD SOUGHT TO KEEP HIM AMONG THEM THAT HE MIGHT BE SUBJECT TO THEM AND SERVE THEIR ENDS. PRIDE AFTER SATISFACTION UPLIFTED HIM LIKE LONG SLOW WAVES. THE END HE HAD BEEN BORN TO SERVE YET DID NOT SEE HAD LED HIM TO ESCAPE BY AN UNSEEN PATH AND NOW IT BECKONED TO HIM ONCE MORE AND A NEW ADVENTURE WAS ABOUT TO BE OPENED TO HIM. IT SEEMED TO HIM THAT HE HEARD NOTES OF FITFUL MUSIC LEAPING UPWARDS A TONE AND DOWNWARDS A DIMINISHED FOURTH UPWARDS A TONE AND DOWNWARDS A MAJOR THIRD LIKE TRIPLE BRANCHING FLAMES LEAPING FITFULLY FLAME AFTER FLAME OUT OF A MIDNIGHT WOOD. IT WAS AN ELFIN PRELUDE ENDLESS AND FORMLESS AND AS IT GREW WILDER AND FASTER THE FLAMES LEAPING OUT OF TIME HE SEEMED TO HEAR FROM UNDER THE BOUGHS AND GRASSES WILD CREATURES RACING THEIR FEET PATTERING LIKE RAIN UPON THE LEAVES. THEIR FEET PASSED IN PATTERING TUMULT OVER HIS MIND THE FEET OF HARES AND RABBITS THE FEET OF HARTS AND HINDS AND ANTELOPES UNTIL HE HEARD THEM NO MORE AND REMEMBERED ONLY A PROUD CADENCE FROM NEWMAN. WHOSE FEET ARE AS THE FEET OF HARTS AND UNDERNEATH THE EVERLASTING ARMS. THE PRIDE OF THAT DIM IMAGE BROUGHT BACK TO HIS MIND THE DIGNITY OF THE OFFICE HE HAD REFUSED. ALL THROUGH HIS BOYHOOD HE HAD MUSED UPON THAT WHICH HE HAD SO OFTEN THOUGHT TO BE HIS DESTINY AND WHEN THE MOMENT HAD COME FOR HIM TO OBEY THE CALL HE HAD TURNED ASIDE OBEYING A WAYWARD INSTINCT. NOW TIME LAY BETWEEN THE OILS OF ORDINATION WOULD NEVER ANOINT HIS BODY. HE HAD REFUSED WHY. HE TURNED SEAWARD FROM THE ROAD AT DOLLYMOUNT AND AS HE PASSED ON TO THE THIN WOODEN BRIDGE HE FELT THE PLANKS SHAKING WITH THE TRAMP OF HEAVILY SHOD FEET. A SQUAD OF CHRISTIAN BROTHERS WAS ON ITS WAY BACK FROM THE BULL AND HAD BEGUN TO PASS TWO BY TWO ACROSS THE BRIDGE. SOON THE WHOLE BRIDGE WAS TREMBLING AND RESOUNDING. THE UNCOUTH FACES PASSED HIM TWO BY TWO STAINED YELLOW OR RED OR LIVID BY THE SEA AND AS HE STROVE TO LOOK AT THEM WITH EASE AND INDIFFERENCE A FAINT STAIN OF PERSONAL SHAME AND COMMISERATION ROSE TO HIS OWN FACE. ANGRY WITH HIMSELF HE TRIED TO HIDE HIS FACE FROM THEIR EYES BY GAZING DOWN SIDEWAYS INTO THE SHALLOW SWIRLING WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE BUT HE STILL SAW A REFLECTION THEREIN OF THEIR TOP HEAVY SILK HATS AND HUMBLE TAPE LIKE COLLARS AND LOOSELY HANGING CLERICAL CLOTHES BROTHER HICKEY. BROTHER MAC ARDLE BROTHER KEOGH" }, { "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "chapter": "133604", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1188/133604/133604_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "52e3a5354b9dfc2e1551a65bb3e1074e51a5483d2e679f26c5273181b7644ef1", "seconds": 231.72, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 29.6, 30.4, 29.4, 31.8, 30.1, 29.7, 28.7, 29.8, 32.0, 26.9, 28.2, 28.7, 27.5, 30.5, 31.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THUS YOU KNOW IN YOUR STUDY OF SCULPTURE WE SAW THAT THE ESSENTIAL AIM OF THE GREEK ART WAS TRANQUIL ACTION THE CHIEF AIM OF GOTHIC ART WAS PASSIONATE REST A PEACE AN ETERNITY OF INTENSE SENTIMENT. YOU WILL FIND ME CONTINUALLY SPEAKING OF FOUR MEN TITIAN HOLBEIN TURNER AND TINTORET IN ALMOST THE SAME TERMS. THEY UNITE EVERY QUALITY AND SOMETIMES YOU WILL FIND ME REFERRING TO THEM AS COLORISTS SOMETIMES AS CHIAROSCURISTS. BY BEING STUDIOUS OF COLOR THEY ARE STUDIOUS OF DIVISION AND WHILE THE CHIAROSCURIST DEVOTES HIMSELF TO THE REPRESENTATION OF DEGREES OF FORCE IN ONE THING UNSEPARATED LIGHT THE COLORISTS HAVE FOR THEIR FUNCTION THE ATTAINMENT OF BEAUTY BY ARRANGEMENT OF THE DIVISIONS OF LIGHT. MY FIRST AND PRINCIPAL REASON WAS THAT THEY ENFORCED BEYOND ALL RESISTANCE ON ANY STUDENT WHO MIGHT ATTEMPT TO COPY THEM THIS METHOD OF LAYING PORTIONS OF DISTINCT HUE SIDE BY SIDE. SOME OF THE TOUCHES INDEED WHEN THE TINT HAS BEEN MIXED WITH MUCH WATER HAVE BEEN LAID IN LITTLE DROPS OR PONDS SO THAT THE PIGMENT MIGHT CRYSTALLIZE HARD AT THE EDGE. AND IT FOLLOWS ALSO FROM THIS LAW OF CONSTRUCTION THAT THERE MUST NEVER BE ANY HESITATION OR REPENTANCE IN THE DIRECTION OF YOUR LINES OF LIMIT. IT IS THE HEAD OF A PARROT WITH A LITTLE FLOWER IN HIS BEAK FROM A PICTURE OF CARPACCIO'S ONE OF HIS SERIES OF THE LIFE OF SAINT GEORGE. THEN HE COMES TO THE BEAK OF IT. THE BROWN GROUND BENEATH IS LEFT FOR THE MOST PART ONE TOUCH OF BLACK IS PUT FOR THE HOLLOW TWO DELICATE LINES OF DARK GRAY DEFINE THE OUTER CURVE AND ONE LITTLE QUIVERING TOUCH OF WHITE DRAWS THE INNER EDGE OF THE MANDIBLE. THERE ARE VERY FEW PERSONS IN THE ROOM WHO WILL BE ABLE TO SEE THE DRAWING OF THIS BIRD'S BEAK WITHOUT A MAGNIFYING GLASS YET IT IS TEN TO ONE THAT IN ANY MODERN GALLERY SUCH A PICTURE WOULD BE HUNG THIRTY FEET FROM THE GROUND. FOR BELIEVE ME THE FINAL PHILOSOPHY OF ART CAN ONLY RATIFY THEIR OPINION THAT THE BEAUTY OF A COCK ROBIN IS TO BE RED AND OF A GRASS PLOT TO BE GREEN AND THE BEST SKILL OF ART IS IN INSTANTLY SEIZING ON THE MANIFOLD DELICIOUSNESS OF LIGHT WHICH YOU CAN ONLY SEIZE BY PRECISION OF INSTANTANEOUS TOUCH. NOW YOU WILL SEE IN THESE STUDIES THAT THE MOMENT THE WHITE IS INCLOSED PROPERLY AND HARMONIZED WITH THE OTHER HUES IT BECOMES SOMEHOW MORE PRECIOUS AND PEARLY THAN THE WHITE PAPER AND THAT I AM NOT AFRAID TO LEAVE A WHOLE FIELD OF UNTREATED WHITE PAPER ALL ROUND IT BEING SURE THAT EVEN THE LITTLE DIAMONDS IN THE ROUND WINDOW WILL TELL AS JEWELS IF THEY ARE GRADATED JUSTLY. AGAIN THERE IS NOT A TOUCH OF BLACK IN ANY SHADOW HOWEVER DEEP OF THESE TWO STUDIES SO THAT IF I CHOSE TO PUT A PIECE OF BLACK NEAR THEM IT WOULD BE CONSPICUOUS WITH A VENGEANCE. BUT IN THIS VIGNETTE COPIED FROM TURNER YOU HAVE THE TWO PRINCIPLES BROUGHT OUT PERFECTLY. THEY ARE BEYOND ALL OTHER WORKS THAT I KNOW EXISTING DEPENDENT FOR THEIR EFFECT ON LOW SUBDUED TONES THEIR FAVORITE CHOICE IN TIME OF DAY BEING EITHER DAWN OR TWILIGHT AND EVEN THEIR BRIGHTEST SUNSETS PRODUCED CHIEFLY OUT OF GRAY PAPER. IT MAY BE THAT A GREAT COLORIST WILL USE HIS UTMOST FORCE OF COLOR AS A SINGER HIS FULL POWER OF VOICE BUT LOUD OR LOW THE VIRTUE IS IN BOTH CASES ALWAYS IN REFINEMENT NEVER IN LOUDNESS. IT MUST REMEMBER BE ONE OR THE OTHER. BUT THERE IS NO REASON WHY YOUR SYSTEM OF STUDY SHOULD BE A COMPLETE ONE IF IT BE RIGHT AND PROFITABLE THOUGH INCOMPLETE. DO NOT THEREFORE THINK THAT THE GOTHIC SCHOOL IS AN EASY ONE" }, { "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "chapter": "121726", "sourceFile": "test-clean/121/121726/121726_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "8904a9667c1b96020c7c0834c317b955f2eadff78e4aa18de34d854a2a73debe", "seconds": 237.7, "pieces": 19, "cutLevelsDb": [ 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1, 157.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HAIR DRESSER A LINGUIST WHOSE POSITION IN LIFE ENABLES HIM TO DO HIS HEAD WORK WITH HIS HANDS. HAMMER A SMALL BUSY IMPLEMENT CARRIED BY BLACKSMITHS GEOLOGISTS AND KNOCKERS FOR BREAKING IRON ROCK OR FRIENDSHIP. ALSO A POPULAR CONTRIVANCE WHEREBY LOVE MAKING MAY BE SUSPENDED BUT NOT STOPPED DURING THE PICNIC SEASON. HAND A MUCH DESIRED POSSESSION SUPPLIED BY THE DAMSEL OR THE DEALER GLAD HAND. THE BEGGAR'S PLEA THE POLITICIAN'S SCEPTRE AND THE DRUMMER'S ABLEST ASSISTANT. HANDMAIDEN A MANICURE. HARANGUE THE TIRESOME PRODUCT OF A TIRELESS TONGUE. ANGOR PAIN PAINFUL TO HEAR. HENCE FULL OF STRAINS HASH. HATCH TO DEVELOP EGGS. HATCHWAY PLACE FOR DEVELOPING EGGS A HEN COOP. HAY FEVER A HEART TROUBLE CAUSED BY FALLING IN LOVE WITH A GRASS WIDOW. HEARSAY HEARD ON THE DEAD. HEARSE A HANDSOME VEHICLE IN WHICH THE MAN WHO HAS ALWAYS BEEN A TAIL ENDER IS FINALLY PERMITTED TO LEAD THE PROCESSION. HEART A BLOODY ORGAN KEPT IN A TRUNK PLAYED BY BEATS AND ENJOYED ONLY AFTER IT IS LOST OR GIVEN AWAY. HEAVE TO RAISE. HEAVEN A GOOD PLACE TO BE RAISED TO. HEDGE A FENCE. HEDGEHOG ONE WHO HOGS THE FENCES A BILL POSTER. HELL POVERTY. HEREDITY THE CAUSE OF ALL OUR FAULTS. ONCE HELD BY HOBSON AND DEWEY NOW CARRIED BY MOTHER EDDY AND BROTHER DOWIE. HIP A POPULAR LOCATION FOR THE RETAIL LIQUOR BUSINESS. HISTORY THE EVIL THAT MEN DO. HIT A CHANCE FOR FIRST PLACE FIRST BASE OR FIRST BLOOD. IN GERMANY THEY GENERALLY HOCK THE KAISER. THE SCOTTISH NATIONAL HYMN. HOP TO SKIP. HOPE A DESIRE FOR BETTER THINGS TO COME THAT MAKES A GRASS WIDOW WILLING TO TRY IT AGAIN. HORNET STILL SHARPER. HORSE SENSE A DEGREE OF WISDOM THAT KEEPS ONE FROM BETTING ON THE RACES. HOSE MAN'S EXCUSE FOR WETTING THE WALK. HOSIERY WOMAN'S EXCUSE FOR WALKING IN THE WET. HOTEL A PLACE WHERE A GUEST OFTEN GIVES UP GOOD DOLLARS FOR POOR QUARTERS. HOUSECLEANING A DOMESTIC UPHEAVAL THAT MAKES IT EASY FOR THE GOVERNMENT TO ENLIST ALL THE SOLDIERS IT NEEDS. HUG A ROUNDABOUT WAY OF EXPRESSING AFFECTION. HUMOR AN OUTBREAK EITHER OF SKIN OR BRAINS FREQUENTLY BRANDED AS RASH. HUNGER ABILITY TO EAT IN A NIGHT LUNCH CART. HUSBAND THE NEXT THING TO A WIFE. HUSSY WOMAN AND BOND TIE. TIED TO A WOMAN" }, { "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "chapter": "123852", "sourceFile": "test-clean/121/123852/123852_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "aa0ac2801dce4b11285260c4e821972140f6e42bdc0f084580f99f5c3e20ec9b", "seconds": 210.31, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 94.8, 155.4, 155.4, 155.4, 57.9, 64.2, 155.4, 50.7, 70.6, 69.0, 66.2, 64.1, 67.1, 74.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THOSE PRETTY WRONGS THAT LIBERTY COMMITS WHEN I AM SOMETIME ABSENT FROM THY HEART THY BEAUTY AND THY YEARS FULL WELL BEFITS FOR STILL TEMPTATION FOLLOWS WHERE THOU ART. GENTLE THOU ART AND THEREFORE TO BE WON BEAUTEOUS THOU ART THEREFORE TO BE ASSAIL'D AND WHEN A WOMAN WOOS WHAT WOMAN'S SON WILL SOURLY LEAVE HER TILL HE HAVE PREVAIL'D. AY ME. BUT YET THOU MIGHTST MY SEAT FORBEAR AND CHIDE THY BEAUTY AND THY STRAYING YOUTH WHO LEAD THEE IN THEIR RIOT EVEN THERE WHERE THOU ART FORCED TO BREAK A TWOFOLD TRUTH HERS BY THY BEAUTY TEMPTING HER TO THEE THINE BY THY BEAUTY BEING FALSE TO ME. LOVING OFFENDERS THUS I WILL EXCUSE YE THOU DOST LOVE HER BECAUSE THOU KNOW'ST I LOVE HER AND FOR MY SAKE EVEN SO DOTH SHE ABUSE ME SUFFERING MY FRIEND FOR MY SAKE TO APPROVE HER. THEN THOU WHOSE SHADOW SHADOWS DOTH MAKE BRIGHT HOW WOULD THY SHADOW'S FORM FORM HAPPY SHOW TO THE CLEAR DAY WITH THY MUCH CLEARER LIGHT WHEN TO UNSEEING EYES THY SHADE SHINES SO. ALL DAYS ARE NIGHTS TO SEE TILL I SEE THEE AND NIGHTS BRIGHT DAYS WHEN DREAMS DO SHOW THEE ME. NO MATTER THEN ALTHOUGH MY FOOT DID STAND UPON THE FARTHEST EARTH REMOV'D FROM THEE FOR NIMBLE THOUGHT CAN JUMP BOTH SEA AND LAND AS SOON AS THINK THE PLACE WHERE HE WOULD BE BUT AH. THOUGHT KILLS ME THAT I AM NOT THOUGHT TO LEAP LARGE LENGTHS OF MILES WHEN THOU ART GONE BUT THAT SO MUCH OF EARTH AND WATER WROUGHT I MUST ATTEND TIME'S LEISURE WITH MY MOAN RECEIVING NOUGHT BY ELEMENTS SO SLOW BUT HEAVY TEARS BADGES OF EITHER'S WOE. MY HEART DOTH PLEAD THAT THOU IN HIM DOST LIE A CLOSET NEVER PIERC'D WITH CRYSTAL EYES BUT THE DEFENDANT DOTH THAT PLEA DENY AND SAYS IN HIM THY FAIR APPEARANCE LIES. BUT THOU TO WHOM MY JEWELS TRIFLES ARE MOST WORTHY COMFORT NOW MY GREATEST GRIEF THOU BEST OF DEAREST AND MINE ONLY CARE ART LEFT THE PREY OF EVERY VULGAR THIEF. THEE HAVE I NOT LOCK'D UP IN ANY CHEST SAVE WHERE THOU ART NOT THOUGH I FEEL THOU ART WITHIN THE GENTLE CLOSURE OF MY BREAST FROM WHENCE AT PLEASURE THOU MAYST COME AND PART AND EVEN THENCE THOU WILT BE STOL'N I FEAR FOR TRUTH PROVES THIEVISH FOR A PRIZE SO DEAR" }, { "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "chapter": "127105", "sourceFile": "test-clean/121/127105/127105_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "f62d468286fefae618eedae6ebc2abb662df32cb189aeb1ee7b74cc8bd0b96e6", "seconds": 237.39, "pieces": 19, "cutLevelsDb": [ 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 84.1, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8, 153.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE CASE I MAY MENTION WAS THAT OF AN APPARITION IN JUST SUCH AN OLD HOUSE AS HAD GATHERED US FOR THE OCCASION AN APPEARANCE OF A DREADFUL KIND TO A LITTLE BOY SLEEPING IN THE ROOM WITH HIS MOTHER AND WAKING HER UP IN THE TERROR OF IT WAKING HER NOT TO DISSIPATE HIS DREAD AND SOOTHE HIM TO SLEEP AGAIN BUT TO ENCOUNTER ALSO HERSELF BEFORE SHE HAD SUCCEEDED IN DOING SO THE SAME SIGHT THAT HAD SHAKEN HIM. IT WAS THIS OBSERVATION THAT DREW FROM DOUGLAS NOT IMMEDIATELY BUT LATER IN THE EVENING A REPLY THAT HAD THE INTERESTING CONSEQUENCE TO WHICH I CALL ATTENTION. SOMEONE ELSE TOLD A STORY NOT PARTICULARLY EFFECTIVE WHICH I SAW HE WAS NOT FOLLOWING. WE WAITED IN FACT TILL TWO NIGHTS LATER BUT THAT SAME EVENING BEFORE WE SCATTERED HE BROUGHT OUT WHAT WAS IN HIS MIND. I QUITE AGREE IN REGARD TO GRIFFIN'S GHOST OR WHATEVER IT WAS THAT ITS APPEARING FIRST TO THE LITTLE BOY AT SO TENDER AN AGE ADDS A PARTICULAR TOUCH BUT IT'S NOT THE FIRST OCCURRENCE OF ITS CHARMING KIND THAT I KNOW TO HAVE INVOLVED A CHILD. WE SAY OF COURSE SOMEBODY EXCLAIMED THAT THEY GIVE TWO TURNS. ALSO THAT WE WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THEM. I CAN SEE DOUGLAS THERE BEFORE THE FIRE TO WHICH HE HAD GOT UP TO PRESENT HIS BACK LOOKING DOWN AT HIS INTERLOCUTOR WITH HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS. NOBODY BUT ME TILL NOW HAS EVER HEARD IT'S QUITE TOO HORRIBLE. THIS NATURALLY WAS DECLARED BY SEVERAL VOICES TO GIVE THE THING THE UTMOST PRICE AND OUR FRIEND WITH QUIET ART PREPARED HIS TRIUMPH BY TURNING HIS EYES OVER THE REST OF US AND GOING ON IT'S BEYOND EVERYTHING NOTHING AT ALL THAT I KNOW TOUCHES IT FOR SHEER TERROR. I REMEMBER ASKING HE SEEMED TO SAY IT WAS NOT SO SIMPLE AS THAT TO BE REALLY AT A LOSS HOW TO QUALIFY IT. HE PASSED HIS HAND OVER HIS EYES MADE A LITTLE WINCING GRIMACE. FOR DREADFUL DREADFULNESS OH HOW DELICIOUS. CRIED ONE OF THE WOMEN HE TOOK NO NOTICE OF HER HE LOOKED AT ME BUT AS IF INSTEAD OF ME HE SAW WHAT HE SPOKE OF. FOR GENERAL UNCANNY UGLINESS AND HORROR AND PAIN. WELL THEN I SAID JUST SIT RIGHT DOWN AND BEGIN. HE TURNED ROUND TO THE FIRE GAVE A KICK TO A LOG WATCHED IT AN INSTANT. THEN AS HE FACED US AGAIN I CAN'T BEGIN I SHALL HAVE TO SEND TO TOWN. THERE WAS A UNANIMOUS GROAN AT THIS AND MUCH REPROACH AFTER WHICH IN HIS PREOCCUPIED WAY HE EXPLAINED. THE STORY'S WRITTEN. I COULD WRITE TO MY MAN AND ENCLOSE THE KEY HE COULD SEND DOWN THE PACKET AS HE FINDS IT. IT WAS TO ME IN PARTICULAR THAT HE APPEARED TO PROPOUND THIS APPEARED ALMOST TO APPEAL FOR AID NOT TO HESITATE. HE HAD BROKEN A THICKNESS OF ICE THE FORMATION OF MANY A WINTER HAD HAD HIS REASONS FOR A LONG SILENCE. THE OTHERS RESENTED POSTPONEMENT BUT IT WAS JUST HIS SCRUPLES THAT CHARMED ME. TO THIS HIS ANSWER WAS PROMPT OH THANK GOD NO AND IS THE RECORD YOURS. YOU TOOK THE THING DOWN NOTHING BUT THE IMPRESSION. I TOOK THAT HERE HE TAPPED HIS HEART. I'VE NEVER LOST IT. THEN YOUR MANUSCRIPT. IS IN OLD FADED INK AND IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HAND. HE HUNG FIRE AGAIN A WOMAN'S. SHE HAS BEEN DEAD THESE TWENTY YEARS. SHE SENT ME THE PAGES IN QUESTION BEFORE SHE DIED. THEY WERE ALL LISTENING NOW AND OF COURSE THERE WAS SOMEBODY TO BE ARCH OR AT ANY RATE TO DRAW THE INFERENCE. BUT IF HE PUT THE INFERENCE BY WITHOUT A SMILE IT WAS ALSO WITHOUT IRRITATION. SHE WAS A MOST CHARMING PERSON BUT SHE WAS TEN YEARS OLDER THAN I. SHE WAS MY SISTER'S GOVERNESS HE QUIETLY SAID" }, { "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "chapter": "135766", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1221/135766/135766_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "42612744e7e09f36800b3cdc5cdb817be20b6f87bb7334dba36a3ed68ca5cee8", "seconds": 232.55, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 22.6, 23.2, 22.8, 19.8, 22.4, 21.0, 22.5, 21.7, 22.6, 22.0, 22.3, 22.9, 22.5, 23.8, 23.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 15, "reference": "WE HAVE AS YET HARDLY SPOKEN OF THE INFANT THAT LITTLE CREATURE WHOSE INNOCENT LIFE HAD SPRUNG BY THE INSCRUTABLE DECREE OF PROVIDENCE A LOVELY AND IMMORTAL FLOWER OUT OF THE RANK LUXURIANCE OF A GUILTY PASSION. HOW STRANGE IT SEEMED TO THE SAD WOMAN AS SHE WATCHED THE GROWTH AND THE BEAUTY THAT BECAME EVERY DAY MORE BRILLIANT AND THE INTELLIGENCE THAT THREW ITS QUIVERING SUNSHINE OVER THE TINY FEATURES OF THIS CHILD. HER PEARL FOR SO HAD HESTER CALLED HER NOT AS A NAME EXPRESSIVE OF HER ASPECT WHICH HAD NOTHING OF THE CALM WHITE UNIMPASSIONED LUSTRE THAT WOULD BE INDICATED BY THE COMPARISON. BUT SHE NAMED THE INFANT PEARL AS BEING OF GREAT PRICE PURCHASED WITH ALL SHE HAD HER MOTHER'S ONLY TREASURE. HOW STRANGE INDEED. MAN HAD MARKED THIS WOMAN'S SIN BY A SCARLET LETTER WHICH HAD SUCH POTENT AND DISASTROUS EFFICACY THAT NO HUMAN SYMPATHY COULD REACH HER SAVE IT WERE SINFUL LIKE HERSELF. GOD AS A DIRECT CONSEQUENCE OF THE SIN WHICH MAN THUS PUNISHED HAD GIVEN HER A LOVELY CHILD WHOSE PLACE WAS ON THAT SAME DISHONOURED BOSOM TO CONNECT HER PARENT FOR EVER WITH THE RACE AND DESCENT OF MORTALS AND TO BE FINALLY A BLESSED SOUL IN HEAVEN. YET THESE THOUGHTS AFFECTED HESTER PRYNNE LESS WITH HOPE THAN APPREHENSION. SHE KNEW THAT HER DEED HAD BEEN EVIL SHE COULD HAVE NO FAITH THEREFORE THAT ITS RESULT WOULD BE GOOD. DAY AFTER DAY SHE LOOKED FEARFULLY INTO THE CHILD'S EXPANDING NATURE EVER DREADING TO DETECT SOME DARK AND WILD PECULIARITY THAT SHOULD CORRESPOND WITH THE GUILTINESS TO WHICH SHE OWED HER BEING. CERTAINLY THERE WAS NO PHYSICAL DEFECT. BY ITS PERFECT SHAPE ITS VIGOUR AND ITS NATURAL DEXTERITY IN THE USE OF ALL ITS UNTRIED LIMBS THE INFANT WAS WORTHY TO HAVE BEEN BROUGHT FORTH IN EDEN WORTHY TO HAVE BEEN LEFT THERE TO BE THE PLAYTHING OF THE ANGELS AFTER THE WORLD'S FIRST PARENTS WERE DRIVEN OUT. THE CHILD HAD A NATIVE GRACE WHICH DOES NOT INVARIABLY CO EXIST WITH FAULTLESS BEAUTY ITS ATTIRE HOWEVER SIMPLE ALWAYS IMPRESSED THE BEHOLDER AS IF IT WERE THE VERY GARB THAT PRECISELY BECAME IT BEST. BUT LITTLE PEARL WAS NOT CLAD IN RUSTIC WEEDS. HER MOTHER WITH A MORBID PURPOSE THAT MAY BE BETTER UNDERSTOOD HEREAFTER HAD BOUGHT THE RICHEST TISSUES THAT COULD BE PROCURED AND ALLOWED HER IMAGINATIVE FACULTY ITS FULL PLAY IN THE ARRANGEMENT AND DECORATION OF THE DRESSES WHICH THE CHILD WORE BEFORE THE PUBLIC EYE. SO MAGNIFICENT WAS THE SMALL FIGURE WHEN THUS ARRAYED AND SUCH WAS THE SPLENDOUR OF PEARL'S OWN PROPER BEAUTY SHINING THROUGH THE GORGEOUS ROBES WHICH MIGHT HAVE EXTINGUISHED A PALER LOVELINESS THAT THERE WAS AN ABSOLUTE CIRCLE OF RADIANCE AROUND HER ON THE DARKSOME COTTAGE FLOOR. AND YET A RUSSET GOWN TORN AND SOILED WITH THE CHILD'S RUDE PLAY MADE A PICTURE OF HER JUST AS PERFECT. PEARL'S ASPECT WAS IMBUED WITH A SPELL OF INFINITE VARIETY IN THIS ONE CHILD THERE WERE MANY CHILDREN COMPREHENDING THE FULL SCOPE BETWEEN THE WILD FLOWER PRETTINESS OF A PEASANT BABY AND THE POMP IN LITTLE OF AN INFANT PRINCESS. THROUGHOUT ALL HOWEVER THERE WAS A TRAIT OF PASSION A CERTAIN DEPTH OF HUE WHICH SHE NEVER LOST AND IF IN ANY OF HER CHANGES SHE HAD GROWN FAINTER OR PALER SHE WOULD HAVE CEASED TO BE HERSELF IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NO LONGER PEARL. THIS OUTWARD MUTABILITY INDICATED AND DID NOT MORE THAN FAIRLY EXPRESS THE VARIOUS PROPERTIES OF HER INNER LIFE. HER NATURE APPEARED TO POSSESS DEPTH TOO AS WELL AS VARIETY BUT OR ELSE HESTER'S FEARS DECEIVED HER IT LACKED REFERENCE AND ADAPTATION TO THE WORLD INTO WHICH SHE WAS BORN. THE CHILD COULD NOT BE MADE AMENABLE TO RULES" }, { "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "chapter": "135767", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1221/135767/135767_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "532ccad7987216fe5e5187d70991caf2fa2a79ac55a975ccf8c8d042e1c9a389", "seconds": 227.91, "pieces": 14, "cutLevelsDb": [ 22.3, 23.4, 22.0, 21.2, 21.9, 21.7, 22.4, 22.5, 23.4, 22.6, 22.6, 22.9, 22.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 13, "reference": "HESTER PRYNNE WENT ONE DAY TO THE MANSION OF GOVERNOR BELLINGHAM WITH A PAIR OF GLOVES WHICH SHE HAD FRINGED AND EMBROIDERED TO HIS ORDER AND WHICH WERE TO BE WORN ON SOME GREAT OCCASION OF STATE FOR THOUGH THE CHANCES OF A POPULAR ELECTION HAD CAUSED THIS FORMER RULER TO DESCEND A STEP OR TWO FROM THE HIGHEST RANK HE STILL HELD AN HONOURABLE AND INFLUENTIAL PLACE AMONG THE COLONIAL MAGISTRACY. ANOTHER AND FAR MORE IMPORTANT REASON THAN THE DELIVERY OF A PAIR OF EMBROIDERED GLOVES IMPELLED HESTER AT THIS TIME TO SEEK AN INTERVIEW WITH A PERSONAGE OF SO MUCH POWER AND ACTIVITY IN THE AFFAIRS OF THE SETTLEMENT. IT HAD REACHED HER EARS THAT THERE WAS A DESIGN ON THE PART OF SOME OF THE LEADING INHABITANTS CHERISHING THE MORE RIGID ORDER OF PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION AND GOVERNMENT TO DEPRIVE HER OF HER CHILD. ON THE SUPPOSITION THAT PEARL AS ALREADY HINTED WAS OF DEMON ORIGIN THESE GOOD PEOPLE NOT UNREASONABLY ARGUED THAT A CHRISTIAN INTEREST IN THE MOTHER'S SOUL REQUIRED THEM TO REMOVE SUCH A STUMBLING BLOCK FROM HER PATH. AMONG THOSE WHO PROMOTED THE DESIGN GOVERNOR BELLINGHAM WAS SAID TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BUSY. IT MAY APPEAR SINGULAR AND INDEED NOT A LITTLE LUDICROUS THAT AN AFFAIR OF THIS KIND WHICH IN LATER DAYS WOULD HAVE BEEN REFERRED TO NO HIGHER JURISDICTION THAN THAT OF THE SELECT MEN OF THE TOWN SHOULD THEN HAVE BEEN A QUESTION PUBLICLY DISCUSSED AND ON WHICH STATESMEN OF EMINENCE TOOK SIDES. AT THAT EPOCH OF PRISTINE SIMPLICITY HOWEVER MATTERS OF EVEN SLIGHTER PUBLIC INTEREST AND OF FAR LESS INTRINSIC WEIGHT THAN THE WELFARE OF HESTER AND HER CHILD WERE STRANGELY MIXED UP WITH THE DELIBERATIONS OF LEGISLATORS AND ACTS OF STATE. THE PERIOD WAS HARDLY IF AT ALL EARLIER THAN THAT OF OUR STORY WHEN A DISPUTE CONCERNING THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY IN A PIG NOT ONLY CAUSED A FIERCE AND BITTER CONTEST IN THE LEGISLATIVE BODY OF THE COLONY BUT RESULTED IN AN IMPORTANT MODIFICATION OF THE FRAMEWORK ITSELF OF THE LEGISLATURE. LITTLE PEARL OF COURSE WAS HER COMPANION. OFTEN NEVERTHELESS MORE FROM CAPRICE THAN NECESSITY SHE DEMANDED TO BE TAKEN UP IN ARMS BUT WAS SOON AS IMPERIOUS TO BE LET DOWN AGAIN AND FRISKED ONWARD BEFORE HESTER ON THE GRASSY PATHWAY WITH MANY A HARMLESS TRIP AND TUMBLE. WE HAVE SPOKEN OF PEARL'S RICH AND LUXURIANT BEAUTY A BEAUTY THAT SHONE WITH DEEP AND VIVID TINTS A BRIGHT COMPLEXION EYES POSSESSING INTENSITY BOTH OF DEPTH AND GLOW AND HAIR ALREADY OF A DEEP GLOSSY BROWN AND WHICH IN AFTER YEARS WOULD BE NEARLY AKIN TO BLACK. THERE WAS FIRE IN HER AND THROUGHOUT HER SHE SEEMED THE UNPREMEDITATED OFFSHOOT OF A PASSIONATE MOMENT. HER MOTHER IN CONTRIVING THE CHILD'S GARB HAD ALLOWED THE GORGEOUS TENDENCIES OF HER IMAGINATION THEIR FULL PLAY ARRAYING HER IN A CRIMSON VELVET TUNIC OF A PECULIAR CUT ABUNDANTLY EMBROIDERED IN FANTASIES AND FLOURISHES OF GOLD THREAD. BUT IT WAS A REMARKABLE ATTRIBUTE OF THIS GARB AND INDEED OF THE CHILD'S WHOLE APPEARANCE THAT IT IRRESISTIBLY AND INEVITABLY REMINDED THE BEHOLDER OF THE TOKEN WHICH HESTER PRYNNE WAS DOOMED TO WEAR UPON HER BOSOM. IT WAS THE SCARLET LETTER IN ANOTHER FORM THE SCARLET LETTER ENDOWED WITH LIFE. THE MOTHER HERSELF AS IF THE RED IGNOMINY WERE SO DEEPLY SCORCHED INTO HER BRAIN THAT ALL HER CONCEPTIONS ASSUMED ITS FORM HAD CAREFULLY WROUGHT OUT THE SIMILITUDE LAVISHING MANY HOURS OF MORBID INGENUITY TO CREATE AN ANALOGY BETWEEN THE OBJECT OF HER AFFECTION AND THE EMBLEM OF HER GUILT AND TORTURE" }, { "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "chapter": "1180", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1284/1180/1180_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "14ef0c7d73055e25fbe7058ea361217311ef231873c43f5fd3bf2246264e71f9", "seconds": 232.1, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 37.1, 39.6, 39.0, 40.4, 38.8, 41.2, 41.7, 37.3, 42.3, 38.9, 40.7, 39.8, 39.7, 37.1, 40.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "JUST AT DAWN NEXT MORNING UNC NUNKIE LAID HIS HAND TENDERLY ON OJO'S HEAD AND AWAKENED HIM. COME HE SAID OJO DRESSED. HE WORE BLUE SILK STOCKINGS BLUE KNEE PANTS WITH GOLD BUCKLES A BLUE RUFFLED WAIST AND A JACKET OF BRIGHT BLUE BRAIDED WITH GOLD. HIS SHOES WERE OF BLUE LEATHER AND TURNED UP AT THE TOES WHICH WERE POINTED. HIS HAT HAD A PEAKED CROWN AND A FLAT BRIM AND AROUND THE BRIM WAS A ROW OF TINY GOLDEN BELLS THAT TINKLED WHEN HE MOVED. THIS WAS THE NATIVE COSTUME OF THOSE WHO INHABITED THE MUNCHKIN COUNTRY OF THE LAND OF OZ SO UNC NUNKIE'S DRESS WAS MUCH LIKE THAT OF HIS NEPHEW. INSTEAD OF SHOES THE OLD MAN WORE BOOTS WITH TURNOVER TOPS AND HIS BLUE COAT HAD WIDE CUFFS OF GOLD BRAID. THE BOY NOTICED THAT HIS UNCLE HAD NOT EATEN THE BREAD AND SUPPOSED THE OLD MAN HAD NOT BEEN HUNGRY. OJO WAS HUNGRY THOUGH SO HE DIVIDED THE PIECE OF BREAD UPON THE TABLE AND ATE HIS HALF FOR BREAKFAST WASHING IT DOWN WITH FRESH COOL WATER FROM THE BROOK. UNC PUT THE OTHER PIECE OF BREAD IN HIS JACKET POCKET AFTER WHICH HE AGAIN SAID AS HE WALKED OUT THROUGH THE DOORWAY COME. OJO WAS WELL PLEASED HE WAS DREADFULLY TIRED OF LIVING ALL ALONE IN THE WOODS AND WANTED TO TRAVEL AND SEE PEOPLE. FOR A LONG TIME HE HAD WISHED TO EXPLORE THE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF OZ IN WHICH THEY LIVED. WHEN THEY WERE OUTSIDE UNC SIMPLY LATCHED THE DOOR AND STARTED UP THE PATH. NO ONE WOULD DISTURB THEIR LITTLE HOUSE EVEN IF ANYONE CAME SO FAR INTO THE THICK FOREST WHILE THEY WERE GONE. AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN THAT SEPARATED THE COUNTRY OF THE MUNCHKINS FROM THE COUNTRY OF THE GILLIKINS THE PATH DIVIDED. ONE WAY LED TO THE LEFT AND THE OTHER TO THE RIGHT STRAIGHT UP THE MOUNTAIN. UNC NUNKIE TOOK THIS RIGHT HAND PATH AND OJO FOLLOWED WITHOUT ASKING WHY. HE KNEW IT WOULD TAKE THEM TO THE HOUSE OF THE CROOKED MAGICIAN WHOM HE HAD NEVER SEEN BUT WHO WAS THEIR NEAREST NEIGHBOR. ALL THE MORNING THEY TRUDGED UP THE MOUNTAIN PATH AND AT NOON UNC AND OJO SAT ON A FALLEN TREE TRUNK AND ATE THE LAST OF THE BREAD WHICH THE OLD MUNCHKIN HAD PLACED IN HIS POCKET. THEN THEY STARTED ON AGAIN AND TWO HOURS LATER CAME IN SIGHT OF THE HOUSE OF DOCTOR PIPT. THERE WAS A PRETTY GARDEN AROUND THE HOUSE WHERE BLUE TREES AND BLUE FLOWERS GREW IN ABUNDANCE AND IN ONE PLACE WERE BEDS OF BLUE CABBAGES BLUE CARROTS AND BLUE LETTUCE ALL OF WHICH WERE DELICIOUS TO EAT. PATHS OF BLUE GRAVEL DIVIDED THE VEGETABLE AND FLOWER BEDS AND A WIDER PATH LED UP TO THE FRONT DOOR. THE PLACE WAS IN A CLEARING ON THE MOUNTAIN BUT A LITTLE WAY OFF WAS THE GRIM FOREST WHICH COMPLETELY SURROUNDED IT. UNC KNOCKED AT THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE AND A CHUBBY PLEASANT FACED WOMAN DRESSED ALL IN BLUE OPENED IT AND GREETED THE VISITORS WITH A SMILE. I AM MY DEAR AND ALL STRANGERS ARE WELCOME TO MY HOME. HE IS VERY BUSY JUST NOW SHE SAID SHAKING HER HEAD DOUBTFULLY. BUT COME IN AND LET ME GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO EAT FOR YOU MUST HAVE TRAVELED FAR IN ORDER TO GET OUR LONELY PLACE. WE HAVE REPLIED OJO AS HE AND UNC ENTERED THE HOUSE. WE HAVE COME FROM A FAR LONELIER PLACE THAN THIS A LONELIER PLACE. AND IN THE MUNCHKIN COUNTRY SHE EXCLAIMED. THEN IT MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN THE BLUE FOREST. IT IS GOOD DAME MARGOLOTTE. DEAR ME SHE SAID LOOKING AT THE MAN YOU MUST BE UNC NUNKIE KNOWN AS THE SILENT ONE THEN SHE LOOKED AT THE BOY. AND YOU MUST BE OJO THE UNLUCKY SHE ADDED. YES SAID UNC. I NEVER KNEW I WAS CALLED THE UNLUCKY SAID OJO SOBERLY BUT IT IS REALLY A GOOD NAME FOR ME. I DO NOT KNOW HOW BUT YOU MUST KEEP THE MATTER IN MIND AND PERHAPS THE CHANCE WILL COME TO YOU SHE REPLIED. OJO HAD NEVER EATEN SUCH A FINE MEAL IN ALL HIS LIFE" }, { "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "chapter": "1181", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1284/1181/1181_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "a422c5f42b2fa8c5b5e0d4dff81e420980a4266669aa456c94abc9406e1ffe4d", "seconds": 239.56, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.1, 39.9, 41.0, 31.8, 37.8, 34.9, 33.2, 32.1, 33.2, 34.1, 33.5, 33.8, 37.0, 36.2, 33.1, 37.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "OJO EXAMINED THIS CURIOUS CONTRIVANCE WITH WONDER. THE PATCHWORK GIRL WAS TALLER THAN HE WHEN SHE STOOD UPRIGHT AND HER BODY WAS PLUMP AND ROUNDED BECAUSE IT HAD BEEN SO NEATLY STUFFED WITH COTTON. MARGOLOTTE HAD FIRST MADE THE GIRL'S FORM FROM THE PATCHWORK QUILT AND THEN SHE HAD DRESSED IT WITH A PATCHWORK SKIRT AND AN APRON WITH POCKETS IN IT USING THE SAME GAY MATERIAL THROUGHOUT. UPON THE FEET SHE HAD SEWN A PAIR OF RED LEATHER SHOES WITH POINTED TOES. ALL THE FINGERS AND THUMBS OF THE GIRL'S HANDS HAD BEEN CAREFULLY FORMED AND STUFFED AND STITCHED AT THE EDGES WITH GOLD PLATES AT THE ENDS TO SERVE AS FINGER NAILS. SHE WILL HAVE TO WORK WHEN SHE COMES TO LIFE SAID MARGOLOTTE. THE HEAD OF THE PATCHWORK GIRL WAS THE MOST CURIOUS PART OF HER. WHILE SHE WAITED FOR HER HUSBAND TO FINISH MAKING HIS POWDER OF LIFE THE WOMAN HAD FOUND AMPLE TIME TO COMPLETE THE HEAD AS HER FANCY DICTATED AND SHE REALIZED THAT A GOOD SERVANT'S HEAD MUST BE PROPERLY CONSTRUCTED. THE HAIR WAS OF BROWN YARN AND HUNG DOWN ON HER NECK IN SEVERAL NEAT BRAIDS. HER EYES WERE TWO SILVER SUSPENDER BUTTONS CUT FROM A PAIR OF THE MAGICIAN'S OLD TROUSERS AND THEY WERE SEWED ON WITH BLACK THREADS WHICH FORMED THE PUPILS OF THE EYES. MARGOLOTTE HAD PUZZLED OVER THE EARS FOR SOME TIME FOR THESE WERE IMPORTANT IF THE SERVANT WAS TO HEAR DISTINCTLY BUT FINALLY SHE HAD MADE THEM OUT OF THIN PLATES OF GOLD AND ATTACHED THEM IN PLACE BY MEANS OF STITCHES THROUGH TINY HOLES BORED IN THE METAL. GOLD IS THE MOST COMMON METAL IN THE LAND OF OZ AND IS USED FOR MANY PURPOSES BECAUSE IT IS SOFT AND PLIABLE. THE WOMAN HAD CUT A SLIT FOR THE PATCHWORK GIRL'S MOUTH AND SEWN TWO ROWS OF WHITE PEARLS IN IT FOR TEETH USING A STRIP OF SCARLET PLUSH FOR A TONGUE. THIS MOUTH OJO CONSIDERED VERY ARTISTIC AND LIFELIKE AND MARGOLOTTE WAS PLEASED WHEN THE BOY PRAISED IT. THERE WERE ALMOST TOO MANY PATCHES ON THE FACE OF THE GIRL FOR HER TO BE CONSIDERED STRICTLY BEAUTIFUL FOR ONE CHEEK WAS YELLOW AND THE OTHER RED HER CHIN BLUE HER FOREHEAD PURPLE AND THE CENTER WHERE HER NOSE HAD BEEN FORMED AND PADDED A BRIGHT YELLOW. YOU OUGHT TO HAVE HAD HER FACE ALL PINK SUGGESTED THE BOY. I SUPPOSE SO BUT I HAD NO PINK CLOTH REPLIED THE WOMAN. STILL I CANNOT SEE AS IT MATTERS MUCH FOR I WISH MY PATCHWORK GIRL TO BE USEFUL RATHER THAN ORNAMENTAL. IF I GET TIRED LOOKING AT HER PATCHED FACE I CAN WHITEWASH IT. HAS SHE ANY BRAINS ASKED OJO. NO I FORGOT ALL ABOUT THE BRAINS EXCLAIMED THE WOMAN. I AM GLAD YOU REMINDED ME OF THEM FOR IT IS NOT TOO LATE TO SUPPLY THEM BY ANY MEANS. UNTIL SHE IS BROUGHT TO LIFE I CAN DO ANYTHING I PLEASE WITH THIS GIRL. BUT I MUST BE CAREFUL NOT TO GIVE HER TOO MUCH BRAINS AND THOSE SHE HAS MUST BE SUCH AS ARE FITTED TO THE STATION SHE IS TO OCCUPY IN LIFE. IN OTHER WORDS HER BRAINS MUSTN'T BE VERY GOOD. WRONG SAID UNC NUNKIE. NO I AM SURE I AM RIGHT ABOUT THAT RETURNED THE WOMAN. WELL THAT MAY BE TRUE AGREED MARGOLOTTE BUT ON THE CONTRARY A SERVANT WITH TOO MUCH BRAINS IS SURE TO BECOME INDEPENDENT AND HIGH AND MIGHTY AND FEEL ABOVE HER WORK. I WANT HER TO KNOW JUST ENOUGH BUT NOT TOO MUCH. WITH THIS SHE WENT TO ANOTHER CUPBOARD WHICH WAS FILLED WITH SHELVES. ALL THE SHELVES WERE LINED WITH BLUE GLASS BOTTLES NEATLY LABELED BY THE MAGICIAN TO SHOW WHAT THEY CONTAINED. ONE WHOLE SHELF WAS MARKED BRAIN FURNITURE AND THE BOTTLES ON THIS SHELF WERE LABELED AS FOLLOWS OBEDIENCE CLEVERNESS JUDGMENT COURAGE INGENUITY AMIABILITY LEARNING TRUTH POESY SELF RELIANCE. LET ME SEE SAID MARGOLOTTE OF THOSE QUALITIES SHE MUST HAVE OBEDIENCE FIRST OF ALL AND SHE TOOK DOWN THE BOTTLE BEARING THAT LABEL AND POURED FROM IT UPON A DISH SEVERAL GRAINS OF THE CONTENTS" }, { "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "chapter": "134647", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1284/134647/134647_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "f87871290df989eb83d53a9e8e09680d53f9a0be7cf8bc46e0c89869d26ae7b7", "seconds": 232.15, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 29.2, 24.0, 26.2, 27.0, 23.4, 23.5, 23.4, 25.1, 24.8, 30.3, 29.3, 27.5, 25.4, 26.9, 26.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 5, "reference": "THE GRATEFUL APPLAUSE OF THE CLERGY HAS CONSECRATED THE MEMORY OF A PRINCE WHO INDULGED THEIR PASSIONS AND PROMOTED THEIR INTEREST. CONSTANTINE GAVE THEM SECURITY WEALTH HONORS AND REVENGE AND THE SUPPORT OF THE ORTHODOX FAITH WAS CONSIDERED AS THE MOST SACRED AND IMPORTANT DUTY OF THE CIVIL MAGISTRATE. THE EDICT OF MILAN THE GREAT CHARTER OF TOLERATION HAD CONFIRMED TO EACH INDIVIDUAL OF THE ROMAN WORLD THE PRIVILEGE OF CHOOSING AND PROFESSING HIS OWN RELIGION. BUT THIS INESTIMABLE PRIVILEGE WAS SOON VIOLATED WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF TRUTH THE EMPEROR IMBIBED THE MAXIMS OF PERSECUTION AND THE SECTS WHICH DISSENTED FROM THE CATHOLIC CHURCH WERE AFFLICTED AND OPPRESSED BY THE TRIUMPH OF CHRISTIANITY. CONSTANTINE EASILY BELIEVED THAT THE HERETICS WHO PRESUMED TO DISPUTE HIS OPINIONS OR TO OPPOSE HIS COMMANDS WERE GUILTY OF THE MOST ABSURD AND CRIMINAL OBSTINACY AND THAT A SEASONABLE APPLICATION OF MODERATE SEVERITIES MIGHT SAVE THOSE UNHAPPY MEN FROM THE DANGER OF AN EVERLASTING CONDEMNATION. NOT A MOMENT WAS LOST IN EXCLUDING THE MINISTERS AND TEACHERS OF THE SEPARATED CONGREGATIONS FROM ANY SHARE OF THE REWARDS AND IMMUNITIES WHICH THE EMPEROR HAD SO LIBERALLY BESTOWED ON THE ORTHODOX CLERGY. SOME OF THE PENAL REGULATIONS WERE COPIED FROM THE EDICTS OF DIOCLETIAN AND THIS METHOD OF CONVERSION WAS APPLAUDED BY THE SAME BISHOPS WHO HAD FELT THE HAND OF OPPRESSION AND PLEADED FOR THE RIGHTS OF HUMANITY. TWO IMMATERIAL CIRCUMSTANCES MAY SERVE HOWEVER TO PROVE THAT THE MIND OF CONSTANTINE WAS NOT ENTIRELY CORRUPTED BY THE SPIRIT OF ZEAL AND BIGOTRY. BEFORE HE CONDEMNED THE MANICHAEANS AND THEIR KINDRED SECTS HE RESOLVED TO MAKE AN ACCURATE INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE OF THEIR RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLES. THE ADVANTAGE WHICH CAECILIAN MIGHT CLAIM FROM THE PRIORITY OF HIS ORDINATION WAS DESTROYED BY THE ILLEGAL OR AT LEAST INDECENT HASTE WITH WHICH IT HAD BEEN PERFORMED WITHOUT EXPECTING THE ARRIVAL OF THE BISHOPS OF NUMIDIA. FROM THEIR MUTUAL REPROACHES AS WELL AS FROM THE STORY OF THIS DARK TRANSACTION IT MAY JUSTLY BE INFERRED THAT THE LATE PERSECUTION HAD IMBITTERED THE ZEAL WITHOUT REFORMING THE MANNERS OF THE AFRICAN CHRISTIANS. THAT DIVIDED CHURCH WAS INCAPABLE OF AFFORDING AN IMPARTIAL JUDICATURE THE CONTROVERSY WAS SOLEMNLY TRIED IN FIVE SUCCESSIVE TRIBUNALS WHICH WERE APPOINTED BY THE EMPEROR AND THE WHOLE PROCEEDING FROM THE FIRST APPEAL TO THE FINAL SENTENCE LASTED ABOVE THREE YEARS. THE HONORS AND ESTATES OF THE CHURCH WERE ATTRIBUTED TO HIS SUFFRAGAN BISHOPS AND IT WAS NOT WITHOUT DIFFICULTY THAT CONSTANTINE WAS SATISFIED WITH INFLICTING THE PUNISHMENT OF EXILE ON THE PRINCIPAL LEADERS OF THE DONATIST FACTION. AS THEIR CAUSE WAS EXAMINED WITH ATTENTION PERHAPS IT WAS DETERMINED WITH JUSTICE. PERHAPS THEIR COMPLAINT WAS NOT WITHOUT FOUNDATION THAT THE CREDULITY OF THE EMPEROR HAD BEEN ABUSED BY THE INSIDIOUS ARTS OF HIS FAVORITE OSIUS. THEY ASSERTED WITH CONFIDENCE AND ALMOST WITH EXULTATION THAT THE APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION WAS INTERRUPTED THAT ALL THE BISHOPS OF EUROPE AND ASIA WERE INFECTED BY THE CONTAGION OF GUILT AND SCHISM AND THAT THE PREROGATIVES OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH WERE CONFINED TO THE CHOSEN PORTION OF THE AFRICAN BELIEVERS WHO ALONE HAD PRESERVED INVIOLATE THE INTEGRITY OF THEIR FAITH AND DISCIPLINE. THIS RIGID THEORY WAS SUPPORTED BY THE MOST UNCHARITABLE CONDUCT. BISHOPS VIRGINS AND EVEN SPOTLESS INFANTS WERE SUBJECTED TO THE DISGRACE OF A PUBLIC PENANCE BEFORE THEY COULD BE ADMITTED TO THE COMMUNION OF THE DONATISTS. IF THEY OBTAINED POSSESSION OF A CHURCH WHICH HAD BEEN USED BY THEIR CATHOLIC ADVERSARIES THEY PURIFIED THE UNHALLOWED BUILDING WITH THE SAME ZEALOUS CARE WHICH A TEMPLE OF IDOLS MIGHT HAVE REQUIRED" }, { "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "chapter": "122612", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1320/122612/122612_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "63512376989c40bc6f5f00c9a65b48dda1b37ceabed7bf4c7adbde98e1161c4e", "seconds": 236.58, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 31.6, 31.6, 31.7, 31.6, 31.8, 31.7, 31.6, 31.5, 31.1, 29.8, 31.7, 31.8, 29.0, 31.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE PARTY HAD LANDED ON THE BORDER OF A REGION THAT IS EVEN TO THIS DAY LESS KNOWN TO THE INHABITANTS OF THE STATES THAN THE DESERTS OF ARABIA OR THE STEPPES OF TARTARY. IT WAS THE STERILE AND RUGGED DISTRICT WHICH SEPARATES THE TRIBUTARIES OF CHAMPLAIN FROM THOSE OF THE HUDSON THE MOHAWK AND THE SAINT LAWRENCE. SINCE THE PERIOD OF OUR TALE THE ACTIVE SPIRIT OF THE COUNTRY HAS SURROUNDED IT WITH A BELT OF RICH AND THRIVING SETTLEMENTS THOUGH NONE BUT THE HUNTER OR THE SAVAGE IS EVER KNOWN EVEN NOW TO PENETRATE ITS WILD RECESSES. AS HAWKEYE AND THE MOHICANS HAD HOWEVER OFTEN TRAVERSED THE MOUNTAINS AND VALLEYS OF THIS VAST WILDERNESS THEY DID NOT HESITATE TO PLUNGE INTO ITS DEPTH WITH THE FREEDOM OF MEN ACCUSTOMED TO ITS PRIVATIONS AND DIFFICULTIES. FOR MANY HOURS THE TRAVELERS TOILED ON THEIR LABORIOUS WAY GUIDED BY A STAR OR FOLLOWING THE DIRECTION OF SOME WATER COURSE UNTIL THE SCOUT CALLED A HALT AND HOLDING A SHORT CONSULTATION WITH THE INDIANS THEY LIGHTED THEIR FIRE AND MADE THE USUAL PREPARATIONS TO PASS THE REMAINDER OF THE NIGHT WHERE THEY THEN WERE. IMITATING THE EXAMPLE AND EMULATING THE CONFIDENCE OF THEIR MORE EXPERIENCED ASSOCIATES MUNRO AND DUNCAN SLEPT WITHOUT FEAR IF NOT WITHOUT UNEASINESS. THE DEWS WERE SUFFERED TO EXHALE AND THE SUN HAD DISPERSED THE MISTS AND WAS SHEDDING A STRONG AND CLEAR LIGHT IN THE FOREST WHEN THE TRAVELERS RESUMED THEIR JOURNEY. AFTER PROCEEDING A FEW MILES THE PROGRESS OF HAWKEYE WHO LED THE ADVANCE BECAME MORE DELIBERATE AND WATCHFUL. HE OFTEN STOPPED TO EXAMINE THE TREES NOR DID HE CROSS A RIVULET WITHOUT ATTENTIVELY CONSIDERING THE QUANTITY THE VELOCITY AND THE COLOR OF ITS WATERS. DISTRUSTING HIS OWN JUDGMENT HIS APPEALS TO THE OPINION OF CHINGACHGOOK WERE FREQUENT AND EARNEST. DURING ONE OF THESE CONFERENCES HEYWARD OBSERVED THAT UNCAS STOOD A PATIENT AND SILENT THOUGH AS HE IMAGINED AN INTERESTED LISTENER. HE WAS STRONGLY TEMPTED TO ADDRESS THE YOUNG CHIEF AND DEMAND HIS OPINION OF THEIR PROGRESS BUT THE CALM AND DIGNIFIED DEMEANOR OF THE NATIVE INDUCED HIM TO BELIEVE THAT LIKE HIMSELF THE OTHER WAS WHOLLY DEPENDENT ON THE SAGACITY AND INTELLIGENCE OF THE SENIORS OF THE PARTY. AT LAST THE SCOUT SPOKE IN ENGLISH AND AT ONCE EXPLAINED THE EMBARRASSMENT OF THEIR SITUATION. WHEN I FOUND THAT THE HOME PATH OF THE HURONS RUN NORTH HE SAID IT DID NOT NEED THE JUDGMENT OF MANY LONG YEARS TO TELL THAT THEY WOULD FOLLOW THE VALLEYS AND KEEP ATWEEN THE WATERS OF THE HUDSON AND THE HORICAN UNTIL THEY MIGHT STRIKE THE SPRINGS OF THE CANADA STREAMS WHICH WOULD LEAD THEM INTO THE HEART OF THE COUNTRY OF THE FRENCHERS. YET HERE ARE WE WITHIN A SHORT RANGE OF THE SCAROONS AND NOT A SIGN OF A TRAIL HAVE WE CROSSED. HEAVEN PROTECT US FROM SUCH AN ERROR EXCLAIMED DUNCAN. LET US RETRACE OUR STEPS AND EXAMINE AS WE GO WITH KEENER EYES. HAS UNCAS NO COUNSEL TO OFFER IN SUCH A STRAIT. THE YOUNG MOHICAN CAST A GLANCE AT HIS FATHER BUT MAINTAINING HIS QUIET AND RESERVED MIEN HE CONTINUED SILENT. CHINGACHGOOK HAD CAUGHT THE LOOK AND MOTIONING WITH HIS HAND HE BADE HIM SPEAK. THE MOMENT THIS PERMISSION WAS ACCORDED THE COUNTENANCE OF UNCAS CHANGED FROM ITS GRAVE COMPOSURE TO A GLEAM OF INTELLIGENCE AND JOY. BOUNDING FORWARD LIKE A DEER HE SPRANG UP THE SIDE OF A LITTLE ACCLIVITY A FEW RODS IN ADVANCE AND STOOD EXULTINGLY OVER A SPOT OF FRESH EARTH THAT LOOKED AS THOUGH IT HAD BEEN RECENTLY UPTURNED BY THE PASSAGE OF SOME HEAVY ANIMAL. THE EYES OF THE WHOLE PARTY FOLLOWED THE UNEXPECTED MOVEMENT AND READ THEIR SUCCESS IN THE AIR OF TRIUMPH THAT THE YOUTH ASSUMED. TIS THE TRAIL EXCLAIMED THE SCOUT ADVANCING TO THE SPOT THE LAD IS QUICK OF SIGHT AND KEEN OF WIT FOR HIS YEARS. TIS EXTRAORDINARY THAT HE SHOULD HAVE WITHHELD HIS KNOWLEDGE SO LONG MUTTERED DUNCAN AT HIS ELBOW" }, { "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "chapter": "122617", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1320/122617/122617_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "2c883a1cf91d6109107c48655c5bd9f6cee810cf89f908a2ed9d581848d714d3", "seconds": 237.48, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 31.3, 35.3, 34.0, 33.8, 35.2, 33.3, 28.0, 34.4, 34.5, 35.4, 35.5, 35.0, 35.5, 34.6, 33.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "BOT LET ME PLAY THE LION TOO MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. NOTWITHSTANDING THE HIGH RESOLUTION OF HAWKEYE HE FULLY COMPREHENDED ALL THE DIFFICULTIES AND DANGER HE WAS ABOUT TO INCUR. IN HIS RETURN TO THE CAMP HIS ACUTE AND PRACTISED INTELLECTS WERE INTENTLY ENGAGED IN DEVISING MEANS TO COUNTERACT A WATCHFULNESS AND SUSPICION ON THE PART OF HIS ENEMIES THAT HE KNEW WERE IN NO DEGREE INFERIOR TO HIS OWN. NOTHING BUT THE COLOR OF HIS SKIN HAD SAVED THE LIVES OF MAGUA AND THE CONJURER WHO WOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST VICTIMS SACRIFICED TO HIS OWN SECURITY HAD NOT THE SCOUT BELIEVED SUCH AN ACT HOWEVER CONGENIAL IT MIGHT BE TO THE NATURE OF AN INDIAN UTTERLY UNWORTHY OF ONE WHO BOASTED A DESCENT FROM MEN THAT KNEW NO CROSS OF BLOOD. A NEGLECTED HUT WAS A LITTLE IN ADVANCE OF THE OTHERS AND APPEARED AS IF IT HAD BEEN DESERTED WHEN HALF COMPLETED MOST PROBABLY ON ACCOUNT OF FAILING IN SOME OF THE MORE IMPORTANT REQUISITES SUCH AS WOOD OR WATER. A FAINT LIGHT GLIMMERED THROUGH ITS CRACKS HOWEVER AND ANNOUNCED THAT NOTWITHSTANDING ITS IMPERFECT STRUCTURE IT WAS NOT WITHOUT A TENANT. THITHER THEN THE SCOUT PROCEEDED LIKE A PRUDENT GENERAL WHO WAS ABOUT TO FEEL THE ADVANCED POSITIONS OF HIS ENEMY BEFORE HE HAZARDED THE MAIN ATTACK. THROWING HIMSELF INTO A SUITABLE POSTURE FOR THE BEAST HE REPRESENTED HAWKEYE CRAWLED TO A LITTLE OPENING WHERE HE MIGHT COMMAND A VIEW OF THE INTERIOR. IT PROVED TO BE THE ABIDING PLACE OF DAVID GAMUT. HITHER THE FAITHFUL SINGING MASTER HAD NOW BROUGHT HIMSELF TOGETHER WITH ALL HIS SORROWS HIS APPREHENSIONS AND HIS MEEK DEPENDENCE ON THE PROTECTION OF PROVIDENCE. AT THE PRECISE MOMENT WHEN HIS UNGAINLY PERSON CAME UNDER THE OBSERVATION OF THE SCOUT IN THE MANNER JUST MENTIONED THE WOODSMAN HIMSELF THOUGH IN HIS ASSUMED CHARACTER WAS THE SUBJECT OF THE SOLITARY BEING'S PROFOUNDED REFLECTIONS. HOWEVER IMPLICIT THE FAITH OF DAVID WAS IN THE PERFORMANCE OF ANCIENT MIRACLES HE ESCHEWED THE BELIEF OF ANY DIRECT SUPERNATURAL AGENCY IN THE MANAGEMENT OF MODERN MORALITY. IN OTHER WORDS WHILE HE HAD IMPLICIT FAITH IN THE ABILITY OF BALAAM'S ASS TO SPEAK HE WAS SOMEWHAT SKEPTICAL ON THE SUBJECT OF A BEAR'S SINGING AND YET HE HAD BEEN ASSURED OF THE LATTER ON THE TESTIMONY OF HIS OWN EXQUISITE ORGANS. THERE WAS SOMETHING IN HIS AIR AND MANNER THAT BETRAYED TO THE SCOUT THE UTTER CONFUSION OF THE STATE OF HIS MIND. HE WAS SEATED ON A PILE OF BRUSH A FEW TWIGS FROM WHICH OCCASIONALLY FED HIS LOW FIRE WITH HIS HEAD LEANING ON HIS ARM IN A POSTURE OF MELANCHOLY MUSING. THE COSTUME OF THE VOTARY OF MUSIC HAD UNDERGONE NO OTHER ALTERATION FROM THAT SO LATELY DESCRIBED EXCEPT THAT HE HAD COVERED HIS BALD HEAD WITH THE TRIANGULAR BEAVER WHICH HAD NOT PROVED SUFFICIENTLY ALLURING TO EXCITE THE CUPIDITY OF ANY OF HIS CAPTORS. THE INGENIOUS HAWKEYE WHO RECALLED THE HASTY MANNER IN WHICH THE OTHER HAD ABANDONED HIS POST AT THE BEDSIDE OF THE SICK WOMAN WAS NOT WITHOUT HIS SUSPICIONS CONCERNING THE SUBJECT OF SO MUCH SOLEMN DELIBERATION. FIRST MAKING THE CIRCUIT OF THE HUT AND ASCERTAINING THAT IT STOOD QUITE ALONE AND THAT THE CHARACTER OF ITS INMATE WAS LIKELY TO PROTECT IT FROM VISITORS HE VENTURED THROUGH ITS LOW DOOR INTO THE VERY PRESENCE OF GAMUT. THE POSITION OF THE LATTER BROUGHT THE FIRE BETWEEN THEM AND WHEN HAWKEYE HAD SEATED HIMSELF ON END NEAR A MINUTE ELAPSED DURING WHICH THE TWO REMAINED REGARDING EACH OTHER WITHOUT SPEAKING. THE SUDDENNESS AND THE NATURE OF THE SURPRISE HAD NEARLY PROVED TOO MUCH FOR WE WILL NOT SAY THE PHILOSOPHY BUT FOR THE PITCH AND RESOLUTION OF DAVID. HE FUMBLED FOR HIS PITCH PIPE AND AROSE WITH A CONFUSED INTENTION OF ATTEMPTING A MUSICAL EXORCISM. THE BEAR SHOOK HIS SHAGGY SIDES AND THEN A WELL KNOWN VOICE REPLIED. FIVE WORDS OF PLAIN AND COMPREHENDIBLE ENGLISH ARE WORTH JUST NOW AN HOUR OF SQUALLING. WHAT ART THOU DEMANDED DAVID UTTERLY DISQUALIFIED TO PURSUE HIS ORIGINAL INTENTION AND NEARLY GASPING FOR BREATH. A MAN LIKE YOURSELF AND ONE WHOSE BLOOD IS AS LITTLE TAINTED BY THE CROSS OF A BEAR OR AN INDIAN AS YOUR OWN" }, { "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "chapter": "141083", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1580/141083/141083_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "361d56a44c8591bf0a05456c4c224959064b9cc83e45876cd706a30001d5ff72", "seconds": 236.08, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 38.2, 36.0, 35.8, 36.1, 36.2, 33.4, 34.9, 36.3, 35.0, 35.7, 36.0, 35.5, 35.4, 35.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "IT WILL BE OBVIOUS THAT ANY DETAILS WHICH WOULD HELP THE READER EXACTLY TO IDENTIFY THE COLLEGE OR THE CRIMINAL WOULD BE INJUDICIOUS AND OFFENSIVE. SO PAINFUL A SCANDAL MAY WELL BE ALLOWED TO DIE OUT. WITH DUE DISCRETION THE INCIDENT ITSELF MAY HOWEVER BE DESCRIBED SINCE IT SERVES TO ILLUSTRATE SOME OF THOSE QUALITIES FOR WHICH MY FRIEND WAS REMARKABLE. I WILL ENDEAVOUR IN MY STATEMENT TO AVOID SUCH TERMS AS WOULD SERVE TO LIMIT THE EVENTS TO ANY PARTICULAR PLACE OR GIVE A CLUE AS TO THE PEOPLE CONCERNED. HERE IT WAS THAT ONE EVENING WE RECEIVED A VISIT FROM AN ACQUAINTANCE MISTER HILTON SOAMES TUTOR AND LECTURER AT THE COLLEGE OF SAINT LUKE'S. I HAD ALWAYS KNOWN HIM TO BE RESTLESS IN HIS MANNER BUT ON THIS PARTICULAR OCCASION HE WAS IN SUCH A STATE OF UNCONTROLLABLE AGITATION THAT IT WAS CLEAR SOMETHING VERY UNUSUAL HAD OCCURRED. I TRUST MISTER HOLMES THAT YOU CAN SPARE ME A FEW HOURS OF YOUR VALUABLE TIME. WE HAVE HAD A VERY PAINFUL INCIDENT AT SAINT LUKE'S AND REALLY BUT FOR THE HAPPY CHANCE OF YOUR BEING IN TOWN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT A LOSS WHAT TO DO. I SHOULD MUCH PREFER THAT YOU CALLED IN THE AID OF THE POLICE. NO NO MY DEAR SIR SUCH A COURSE IS UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE. WHEN ONCE THE LAW IS EVOKED IT CANNOT BE STAYED AGAIN AND THIS IS JUST ONE OF THOSE CASES WHERE FOR THE CREDIT OF THE COLLEGE IT IS MOST ESSENTIAL TO AVOID SCANDAL. YOUR DISCRETION IS AS WELL KNOWN AS YOUR POWERS AND YOU ARE THE ONE MAN IN THE WORLD WHO CAN HELP ME. I BEG YOU MISTER HOLMES TO DO WHAT YOU CAN. MY FRIEND'S TEMPER HAD NOT IMPROVED SINCE HE HAD BEEN DEPRIVED OF THE CONGENIAL SURROUNDINGS OF BAKER STREET. WITHOUT HIS SCRAPBOOKS HIS CHEMICALS AND HIS HOMELY UNTIDINESS HE WAS AN UNCOMFORTABLE MAN. HE SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS IN UNGRACIOUS ACQUIESCENCE WHILE OUR VISITOR IN HURRIED WORDS AND WITH MUCH EXCITABLE GESTICULATION POURED FORTH HIS STORY. I MUST EXPLAIN TO YOU MISTER HOLMES THAT TO MORROW IS THE FIRST DAY OF THE EXAMINATION FOR THE FORTESCUE SCHOLARSHIP I AM ONE OF THE EXAMINERS. FOR THIS REASON GREAT CARE IS TAKEN TO KEEP THE PAPER SECRET. TO DAY ABOUT THREE O'CLOCK THE PROOFS OF THIS PAPER ARRIVED FROM THE PRINTERS. I HAD TO READ IT OVER CAREFULLY AS THE TEXT MUST BE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. AT FOUR THIRTY MY TASK WAS NOT YET COMPLETED. I HAD HOWEVER PROMISED TO TAKE TEA IN A FRIEND'S ROOMS SO I LEFT THE PROOF UPON MY DESK. I WAS ABSENT RATHER MORE THAN AN HOUR. AS I APPROACHED MY OUTER DOOR I WAS AMAZED TO SEE A KEY IN IT. THE ONLY DUPLICATE WHICH EXISTED SO FAR AS I KNEW WAS THAT WHICH BELONGED TO MY SERVANT BANNISTER A MAN WHO HAS LOOKED AFTER MY ROOM FOR TEN YEARS AND WHOSE HONESTY IS ABSOLUTELY ABOVE SUSPICION. I FOUND THAT THE KEY WAS INDEED HIS THAT HE HAD ENTERED MY ROOM TO KNOW IF I WANTED TEA AND THAT HE HAD VERY CARELESSLY LEFT THE KEY IN THE DOOR WHEN HE CAME OUT. HIS VISIT TO MY ROOM MUST HAVE BEEN WITHIN A VERY FEW MINUTES OF MY LEAVING IT. HIS FORGETFULNESS ABOUT THE KEY WOULD HAVE MATTERED LITTLE UPON ANY OTHER OCCASION BUT ON THIS ONE DAY IT HAS PRODUCED THE MOST DEPLORABLE CONSEQUENCES. THE MOMENT I LOOKED AT MY TABLE I WAS AWARE THAT SOMEONE HAD RUMMAGED AMONG MY PAPERS. THE PROOF WAS IN THREE LONG SLIPS I HAD LEFT THEM ALL TOGETHER. NOW I FOUND THAT ONE OF THEM WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR ONE WAS ON THE SIDE TABLE NEAR THE WINDOW AND THE THIRD WAS WHERE I HAD LEFT IT. HOLMES STIRRED FOR THE FIRST TIME. THE FIRST PAGE ON THE FLOOR THE SECOND IN THE WINDOW THE THIRD WHERE YOU LEFT IT SAID HE. EXACTLY MISTER HOLMES YOU AMAZE ME HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW THAT. PRAY CONTINUE YOUR VERY INTERESTING STATEMENT. FOR AN INSTANT I IMAGINED THAT BANNISTER HAD TAKEN THE UNPARDONABLE LIBERTY OF EXAMINING MY PAPERS. HE DENIED IT HOWEVER WITH THE UTMOST EARNESTNESS AND I AM CONVINCED THAT HE WAS SPEAKING THE TRUTH. THE ALTERNATIVE WAS THAT SOMEONE PASSING HAD OBSERVED THE KEY IN THE DOOR HAD KNOWN THAT I WAS OUT AND HAD ENTERED TO LOOK AT THE PAPERS. A LARGE SUM OF MONEY IS AT STAKE FOR THE SCHOLARSHIP IS A VERY VALUABLE ONE AND AN UNSCRUPULOUS MAN MIGHT VERY WELL RUN A RISK IN ORDER TO GAIN AN ADVANTAGE OVER HIS FELLOWS" }, { "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "chapter": "141084", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1580/141084/141084_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "ef82ec0f8611a8bb98fa93cc8de402bbae4c161a01ed94ed38a103fcb0b42644", "seconds": 238.86, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.0, 40.1, 39.3, 38.1, 38.6, 36.0, 39.4, 38.9, 39.6, 155.3, 38.5, 155.3, 38.9, 37.8, 36.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "YOUR THREE BIRDS ARE ALL IN THEIR NESTS SAID HOLMES LOOKING UP. HALLOA WHAT'S THAT. ONE OF THEM SEEMS RESTLESS ENOUGH. IT WAS THE INDIAN WHOSE DARK SILHOUETTE APPEARED SUDDENLY UPON HIS BLIND. HE WAS PACING SWIFTLY UP AND DOWN HIS ROOM. I SHOULD LIKE TO HAVE A PEEP AT EACH OF THEM SAID HOLMES IS IT POSSIBLE. NO DIFFICULTY IN THE WORLD SOAMES ANSWERED. THIS SET OF ROOMS IS QUITE THE OLDEST IN THE COLLEGE AND IT IS NOT UNUSUAL FOR VISITORS TO GO OVER THEM. COME ALONG AND I WILL PERSONALLY CONDUCT YOU. NO NAMES PLEASE SAID HOLMES AS WE KNOCKED AT GILCHRIST'S DOOR. A TALL FLAXEN HAIRED SLIM YOUNG FELLOW OPENED IT AND MADE US WELCOME WHEN HE UNDERSTOOD OUR ERRAND. THERE WERE SOME REALLY CURIOUS PIECES OF MEDIAEVAL DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE WITHIN. HOLMES WAS SO CHARMED WITH ONE OF THEM THAT HE INSISTED ON DRAWING IT IN HIS NOTEBOOK BROKE HIS PENCIL HAD TO BORROW ONE FROM OUR HOST AND FINALLY BORROWED A KNIFE TO SHARPEN HIS OWN. THE SAME CURIOUS ACCIDENT HAPPENED TO HIM IN THE ROOMS OF THE INDIAN A SILENT LITTLE HOOK NOSED FELLOW WHO EYED US ASKANCE AND WAS OBVIOUSLY GLAD WHEN HOLMES'S ARCHITECTURAL STUDIES HAD COME TO AN END. I COULD NOT SEE THAT IN EITHER CASE HOLMES HAD COME UPON THE CLUE FOR WHICH HE WAS SEARCHING. THE OUTER DOOR WOULD NOT OPEN TO OUR KNOCK AND NOTHING MORE SUBSTANTIAL THAN A TORRENT OF BAD LANGUAGE CAME FROM BEHIND IT. I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE YOU CAN GO TO BLAZES ROARED THE ANGRY VOICE. A RUDE FELLOW SAID OUR GUIDE FLUSHING WITH ANGER AS WE WITHDREW DOWN THE STAIR. OF COURSE HE DID NOT REALIZE THAT IT WAS I WHO WAS KNOCKING BUT NONE THE LESS HIS CONDUCT WAS VERY UNCOURTEOUS AND INDEED UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES RATHER SUSPICIOUS. CAN YOU TELL ME HIS EXACT HEIGHT. HE ASKED REALLY MISTER HOLMES I CANNOT UNDERTAKE TO SAY. HE IS TALLER THAN THE INDIAN NOT SO TALL AS GILCHRIST. I SUPPOSE FIVE FOOT SIX WOULD BE ABOUT IT. THAT IS VERY IMPORTANT SAID HOLMES. AND NOW MISTER SOAMES I WISH YOU GOOD NIGHT. YOU DON'T SEEM TO REALIZE THE POSITION. TO MORROW IS THE EXAMINATION. I MUST TAKE SOME DEFINITE ACTION TO NIGHT. I CANNOT ALLOW THE EXAMINATION TO BE HELD IF ONE OF THE PAPERS HAS BEEN TAMPERED WITH THE SITUATION MUST BE FACED. YOU MUST LEAVE IT AS IT IS. I SHALL DROP ROUND EARLY TO MORROW MORNING AND CHAT THE MATTER OVER. IT IS POSSIBLE THAT I MAY BE IN A POSITION THEN TO INDICATE SOME COURSE OF ACTION. MEANWHILE YOU CHANGE NOTHING NOTHING AT ALL. VERY GOOD MISTER HOLMES. YOU CAN BE PERFECTLY EASY IN YOUR MIND. I WILL TAKE THE BLACK CLAY WITH ME ALSO THE PENCIL CUTTINGS GOOD BYE. WHEN WE WERE OUT IN THE DARKNESS OF THE QUADRANGLE WE AGAIN LOOKED UP AT THE WINDOWS. THE INDIAN STILL PACED HIS ROOM THE OTHERS WERE INVISIBLE. THE FOUL MOUTHED FELLOW AT THE TOP. HE IS THE ONE WITH THE WORST RECORD. THERE IS NOTHING IN THAT. MANY MEN DO IT WHEN THEY ARE TRYING TO LEARN ANYTHING BY HEART. HE LOOKED AT US IN A QUEER WAY. SO WOULD YOU IF A FLOCK OF STRANGERS CAME IN ON YOU WHEN YOU WERE PREPARING FOR AN EXAMINATION NEXT DAY AND EVERY MOMENT WAS OF VALUE. NO I SEE NOTHING IN THAT PENCILS TOO AND KNIVES ALL WAS SATISFACTORY. BUT THAT FELLOW DOES PUZZLE ME WHO. WHY BANNISTER THE SERVANT WHAT'S HIS GAME IN THE MATTER. HE IMPRESSED ME AS BEING A PERFECTLY HONEST MAN. WHY SHOULD A PERFECTLY HONEST MAN WELL WELL HERE'S A LARGE STATIONER'S WE SHALL BEGIN OUR RESEARCHES HERE. MY FRIEND DID NOT APPEAR TO BE DEPRESSED BY HIS FAILURE BUT SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS IN HALF HUMOROUS RESIGNATION. NO GOOD MY DEAR WATSON. THIS THE BEST AND ONLY FINAL CLUE HAS RUN TO NOTHING. WHAT WITH YOUR ETERNAL TOBACCO WATSON AND YOUR IRREGULARITY AT MEALS I EXPECT THAT YOU WILL GET NOTICE TO QUIT AND THAT I SHALL SHARE YOUR DOWNFALL NOT HOWEVER BEFORE WE HAVE SOLVED THE PROBLEM OF THE NERVOUS TUTOR THE CARELESS SERVANT AND THE THREE ENTERPRISING STUDENTS. HOLMES MADE NO FURTHER ALLUSION TO THE MATTER THAT DAY THOUGH HE SAT LOST IN THOUGHT FOR A LONG TIME AFTER OUR BELATED DINNER" }, { "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "chapter": "1826", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1995/1826/1826_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "4b1a751bd5f4c1e02750f5e1c511704cf31d133314789261ce0195a8cd8f8e7c", "seconds": 239.27, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 60.1, 59.4, 58.7, 60.3, 59.3, 58.6, 59.8, 58.3, 58.2, 60.2, 63.6, 47.5, 58.4, 56.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "MISS MARY TAYLOR DID NOT TAKE A COLLEGE COURSE FOR THE PURPOSE OF TEACHING NEGROES. NOT THAT SHE OBJECTED TO NEGROES AS HUMAN BEINGS QUITE THE CONTRARY. IN THE DEBATE BETWEEN THE SENIOR SOCIETIES HER DEFENCE OF THE FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT HAD BEEN NOT ONLY A NOTABLE BIT OF REASONING BUT DELIVERED WITH REAL ENTHUSIASM. NEVERTHELESS WHEN THE END OF THE SUMMER CAME AND THE ONLY OPENING FACING HER WAS THE TEACHING OF CHILDREN AT MISS SMITH'S EXPERIMENT IN THE ALABAMA SWAMPS IT MUST BE FRANKLY CONFESSED THAT MISS TAYLOR WAS DISAPPOINTED. HER DREAM HAD BEEN A POST GRADUATE COURSE AT BRYN MAWR BUT THAT WAS OUT OF THE QUESTION UNTIL MONEY WAS EARNED. SHE HAD PICTURED HERSELF EARNING THIS BY TEACHING ONE OR TWO OF HER SPECIALTIES IN SOME PRIVATE SCHOOL NEAR NEW YORK OR BOSTON OR EVEN IN A WESTERN COLLEGE. THE SOUTH SHE HAD NOT THOUGHT OF SERIOUSLY AND YET KNOWING OF ITS DELIGHTFUL HOSPITALITY AND MILD CLIMATE SHE WAS NOT AVERSE TO CHARLESTON OR NEW ORLEANS. JOHN TAYLOR WHO HAD SUPPORTED HER THROUGH COLLEGE WAS INTERESTED IN COTTON. HAVING CERTAIN SCHEMES IN MIND HE HAD BEEN STRUCK BY THE FACT THAT THE SMITH SCHOOL WAS IN THE MIDST OF THE ALABAMA COTTON BELT. BETTER GO HE HAD COUNSELLED SENTENTIOUSLY. MIGHT LEARN SOMETHING USEFUL DOWN THERE. SHE HAD BEEN NOT A LITTLE DISMAYED BY THE OUTLOOK AND HAD PROTESTED AGAINST HIS BLUNT INSISTENCE. BUT JOHN THERE'S NO SOCIETY JUST ELEMENTARY WORK. JOHN HAD MET THIS OBJECTION WITH HUMPH AS HE LEFT FOR HIS OFFICE. NEXT DAY HE HAD RETURNED TO THE SUBJECT. BEEN LOOKING UP TOOMS COUNTY. FIND SOME CRESSWELLS THERE BIG PLANTATIONS RATED AT TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. SOME OTHERS TOO BIG COTTON COUNTY. YOU OUGHT TO KNOW JOHN IF I TEACH NEGROES I'LL SCARCELY SEE MUCH OF PEOPLE IN MY OWN CLASS. NONSENSE BUTT IN SHOW OFF. GIVE EM YOUR GREEK AND STUDY COTTON. AT ANY RATE I SAY GO. AND SO HOWSOEVER RELUCTANTLY SHE HAD GONE. THE TRIAL WAS ALL SHE HAD ANTICIPATED AND POSSIBLY A BIT MORE. SHE WAS A PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN OF TWENTY THREE FAIR AND RATHER DAINTILY MOULDED. HERE SHE WAS TEACHING DIRTY CHILDREN AND THE SMELL OF CONFUSED ODORS AND BODILY PERSPIRATION WAS TO HER AT TIMES UNBEARABLE. THEN THERE WAS THE FACT OF THEIR COLOR IT WAS A FACT SO INSISTENT SO FATAL SHE ALMOST SAID AT TIMES THAT SHE COULD NOT ESCAPE IT. THEORETICALLY SHE HAD ALWAYS TREATED IT WITH DISDAINFUL EASE. WHAT'S THE MERE COLOR OF A HUMAN SOUL'S SKIN SHE HAD CRIED TO A WELLESLEY AUDIENCE AND THE AUDIENCE HAD APPLAUDED WITH ENTHUSIASM. BUT HERE IN ALABAMA BROUGHT CLOSELY AND INTIMATELY IN TOUCH WITH THESE DARK SKINNED CHILDREN THEIR COLOR STRUCK HER AT FIRST WITH A SORT OF TERROR IT SEEMED OMINOUS AND FORBIDDING. SHE FOUND HERSELF SHRINKING AWAY AND GRIPPING HERSELF LEST THEY SHOULD PERCEIVE. SHE COULD NOT HELP BUT THINK THAT IN MOST OTHER THINGS THEY WERE AS DIFFERENT FROM HER AS IN COLOR. SHE GROPED FOR NEW WAYS TO TEACH COLORED BRAINS AND MARSHAL COLORED THOUGHTS AND THE RESULT WAS PUZZLING BOTH TO TEACHER AND STUDENT. WITH THE OTHER TEACHERS SHE HAD LITTLE COMMERCE. SHE APPEALED TO MISS TAYLOR'S RUDDIER AND DAINTIER VISION BUT DIMLY AND DISTANTLY AS SOME MEMORY OF THE PAST. THE OTHER TEACHERS WERE INDISTINCT PERSONALITIES ALWAYS VERY BUSY AND VERY TIRED AND TALKING SCHOOL ROOM WITH THEIR MEALS. MISS TAYLOR WAS SOON STARVING FOR HUMAN COMPANIONSHIP FOR THE LIGHTER TOUCHES OF LIFE AND SOME OF ITS WARMTH AND LAUGHTER. SHE WANTED A GLANCE OF THE NEW BOOKS AND PERIODICALS AND TALK OF GREAT PHILANTHROPIES AND REFORMS. SHE FELT OUT OF THE WORLD SHUT IN AND MENTALLY ANAEMIC GREAT AS THE NEGRO PROBLEM MIGHT BE AS A WORLD PROBLEM IT LOOKED SORDID AND SMALL AT CLOSE RANGE" }, { "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "chapter": "1836", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1995/1836/1836_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "1d2a9917315d8b881276c6cd7f772e9f9f777c940140ca3917ea7658ecdb2e41", "seconds": 239.5, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 73.5, 83.6, 73.8, 75.0, 72.9, 73.0, 74.0, 72.6, 74.0, 73.5, 73.5, 73.6, 72.9, 79.6, 71.9 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE HON CHARLES SMITH MISS SARAH'S BROTHER WAS WALKING SWIFTLY UPTOWN FROM MISTER EASTERLY'S WALL STREET OFFICE AND HIS FACE WAS PALE. AT LAST THE COTTON COMBINE WAS TO ALL APPEARANCES AN ASSURED FACT AND HE WAS SLATED FOR THE SENATE. THE PRICE HE HAD PAID WAS HIGH HE WAS TO REPRESENT THE INTERESTS OF THE NEW TRUST AND SUNDRY FAVORABLE MEASURES WERE ALREADY DRAFTED AND REPOSING IN THE SAFE OF THE COMBINE'S LEGAL DEPARTMENT. AMONG OTHERS WAS ONE RELATING TO CHILD LABOR ANOTHER THAT WOULD EFFECT CERTAIN CHANGES IN THE TARIFF AND A PROPOSED LAW PROVIDING FOR A COTTON BALE OF A SHAPE AND DIMENSIONS DIFFERENT FROM THE CUSTOMARY THE LAST CONSTITUTING A PARTICULARLY CLEVER ARTIFICE WHICH UNDER THE GUISE OF CONVENIENCE IN HANDLING WOULD NECESSITATE THE INSTALLATION OF ENTIRELY NEW GIN AND COMPRESS MACHINERY TO BE SUPPLIED OF COURSE BY THE TRUST. AS MISTER SMITH DREW NEAR MISSUS GREY'S MURRAY HILL RESIDENCE HIS FACE HAD MELTED TO A CYNICAL SMILE. AFTER ALL WHY SHOULD HE CARE. HE HAD TRIED INDEPENDENCE AND PHILANTHROPY AND FAILED. WHY SHOULD HE NOT BE AS OTHER MEN. HE HAD SEEN MANY OTHERS THAT VERY DAY SWALLOW THE GOLDEN BAIT AND PROMISE EVERYTHING THEY WERE GENTLEMEN. WHY SHOULD HE POSE AS BETTER THAN HIS FELLOWS THERE WAS YOUNG CRESSWELL. DID HIS ARISTOCRATIC AIR PREVENT HIS SUCCUMBING TO THE LURE OF MILLIONS AND PROMISING THE INFLUENCE OF HIS FATHER AND THE WHOLE FARMER'S LEAGUE TO THE NEW PROJECT. MISTER SMITH SNAPPED HIS FINGERS AND RANG THE BELL THE DOOR OPENED SOFTLY. THE DARK WOODWORK OF THE OLD ENGLISH WAINSCOTING GLOWED WITH THE CRIMSON FLAMING OF LOGS IN THE WIDE FIREPLACE. THERE WAS JUST THE TOUCH OF EARLY AUTUMN CHILL IN THE AIR WITHOUT THAT MADE BOTH THE FIRE AND THE TABLE WITH ITS SOFT LINEN GOLD AND SILVER PLATE AND TWINKLING GLASSES A WARMING SATISFYING SIGHT. MISSUS GREY WAS A PORTLY WOMAN INCLINED TO THINK MUCH OF HER DINNER AND HER CLOTHES BOTH OF WHICH WERE ALWAYS RICH AND COSTLY. SHE WAS NOT HERSELF A NOTABLY INTELLIGENT WOMAN SHE GREATLY ADMIRED INTELLIGENCE OR WHATEVER LOOKED TO HER LIKE INTELLIGENCE IN OTHERS. HER MONEY TOO WAS TO HER AN EVER WORRYING MYSTERY AND SURPRISE WHICH SHE FOUND HERSELF ALWAYS SCHEMING TO HUSBAND SHREWDLY AND SPEND PHILANTHROPICALLY A DIFFICULT COMBINATION. AS SHE AWAITED HER GUESTS SHE SURVEYED THE TABLE WITH BOTH SATISFACTION AND DISQUIETUDE FOR HER SOCIAL FUNCTIONS WERE FEW TONIGHT THERE WERE SHE CHECKED THEM OFF ON HER FINGERS SIR JAMES CREIGHTON THE RICH ENGLISH MANUFACTURER AND LADY CREIGHTON MISTER AND MISSUS VANDERPOOL MISTER HARRY CRESSWELL AND HIS SISTER JOHN TAYLOR AND HIS SISTER AND MISTER CHARLES SMITH WHOM THE EVENING PAPERS MENTIONED AS LIKELY TO BE UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM NEW JERSEY A SELECTION OF GUESTS THAT HAD BEEN DETERMINED UNKNOWN TO THE HOSTESS BY THE MEETING OF COTTON INTERESTS EARLIER IN THE DAY. MISSUS GREY'S CHEF WAS HIGH PRICED AND EFFICIENT AND HER BUTLER WAS THE ENVY OF MANY CONSEQUENTLY SHE KNEW THE DINNER WOULD BE GOOD. TO HER INTENSE SATISFACTION IT WAS FAR MORE THAN THIS. IT WAS A MOST AGREEABLE COUPLE OF HOURS ALL SAVE PERHAPS MISTER SMITH UNBENT THE ENGLISHMAN ESPECIALLY AND THE VANDERPOOLS WERE MOST GRACIOUS BUT IF THE GENERAL PLEASURE WAS OWING TO ANY ONE PERSON PARTICULARLY IT WAS TO MISTER HARRY CRESSWELL. MISSUS GREY HAD MET SOUTHERNERS BEFORE BUT NOT INTIMATELY AND SHE ALWAYS HAD IN MIND VIVIDLY THEIR CRUELTY TO POOR NEGROES A SUBJECT SHE MADE A POINT OF INTRODUCING FORTHWITH. SHE WAS THEREFORE MOST AGREEABLY SURPRISED TO HEAR MISTER CRESSWELL EXPRESS HIMSELF SO CORDIALLY AS APPROVING OF NEGRO EDUCATION. REALLY NOW YOU DO NOT MEAN TO SAY THAT THERE IS A DANGER OF OF AMALGAMATION DO YOU HE SANG MISTER CRESSWELL EXPLAINED. NO OF COURSE THERE WAS NO IMMEDIATE DANGER BUT WHEN PEOPLE WERE SUDDENLY THRUST BEYOND THEIR NATURAL STATION FILLED WITH WILD IDEAS AND IMPOSSIBLE AMBITIONS IT MEANT TERRIBLE DANGER TO SOUTHERN WHITE WOMEN. BUT YOU BELIEVE IN SOME EDUCATION ASKED MARY TAYLOR" }, { "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "chapter": "1837", "sourceFile": "test-clean/1995/1837/1837_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "d3d009a459f57c99bef5b588ea97b51961bb1d699cc446bf352aac98c4a4b2b3", "seconds": 236.83, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 30.0, 29.7, 30.2, 30.0, 40.1, 68.8, 84.8, 41.3, 43.7, 46.3, 36.7, 40.0, 38.4, 40.8, 36.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HE KNEW THE SILVER FLEECE HIS AND ZORA'S MUST BE RUINED. IT WAS THE FIRST GREAT SORROW OF HIS LIFE IT WAS NOT SO MUCH THE LOSS OF THE COTTON ITSELF BUT THE FANTASY THE HOPES THE DREAMS BUILT AROUND IT. IF IT FAILED WOULD NOT THEY FAIL. BUT IF HIS OWN DESPAIR WAS GREAT HIS PAIN AT THE PLIGHT OF ZORA MADE IT ALMOST UNBEARABLE. HE DID NOT SEE HER IN THESE SEVEN DAYS. HE PICTURED HER HUDDLED THERE IN THE SWAMP IN THE CHEERLESS LEAKY CABIN WITH WORSE THAN NO COMPANIONS. AH THE SWAMP THE CRUEL SWAMP. IT WAS A FEARFUL PLACE IN THE RAIN ITS OOZING MUD AND FETID VAPORS ITS CLINGING SLIMY DRAPERIES HOW THEY TWINED ABOUT THE BONES OF ITS VICTIMS AND CHILLED THEIR HEARTS. YET HERE HIS ZORA HIS POOR DISAPPOINTED CHILD WAS IMPRISONED CHILD. THE REVELATION OF HIS LOVE LIGHTED AND BRIGHTENED SLOWLY TILL IT FLAMED LIKE A SUNRISE OVER HIM AND LEFT HIM IN BURNING WONDER. HE PANTED TO KNOW IF SHE TOO KNEW OR KNEW AND CARED NOT OR CARED AND KNEW NOT. SHE WAS SO STRANGE AND HUMAN A CREATURE. TO HER ALL THINGS MEANT SOMETHING NOTHING WAS AIMLESS NOTHING MERELY HAPPENED. WAS THIS RAIN BEATING DOWN AND BACK HER LOVE FOR HIM OR HAD SHE NEVER LOVED. THE WORLD WAS WATER VEILED IN MISTS. THEN OF A SUDDEN AT MIDDAY THE SUN SHOT OUT HOT AND STILL NO BREATH OF AIR STIRRED THE SKY WAS LIKE BLUE STEEL THE EARTH STEAMED. PERHAPS IF THE WATER HAD BUT DRAINED FROM THE COTTON IT WAS SO STRONG AND TALL BUT PSHAW. WHERE WAS THE USE OF IMAGINING. THE LAGOON HAD BEEN LEVEL WITH THE DYKES A WEEK AGO AND NOW. HE COULD ALMOST SEE THE BEAUTIFUL SILVER FLEECE BEDRAGGLED DROWNED AND ROLLING BENEATH THE BLACK LAKE OF SLIME. HE MUST AT LEAST SEE THE GRAVE OF HIS HOPE AND ZORA'S AND OUT OF IT RESURRECT NEW LOVE AND STRENGTH. PERHAPS SHE TOO MIGHT BE THERE WAITING WEEPING. HE STARTED AT THE THOUGHT HE HURRIED FORTH SADLY. THE RAIN DROPS WERE STILL DRIPPING AND GLEAMING FROM THE TREES FLASHING BACK THE HEAVY YELLOW SUNLIGHT. HE SPLASHED AND STAMPED ALONG FARTHER AND FARTHER ONWARD UNTIL HE NEARED THE RAMPART OF THE CLEARING AND PUT FOOT UPON THE TREE BRIDGE. THEN HE LOOKED DOWN THE LAGOON WAS DRY. HE STOOD A MOMENT BEWILDERED THEN TURNED AND RUSHED UPON THE ISLAND A GREAT SHEET OF DAZZLING SUNLIGHT SWEPT THE PLACE AND BENEATH LAY A MIGHTY MASS OF OLIVE GREEN THICK TALL WET AND WILLOWY. THE SQUARES OF COTTON SHARP EDGED HEAVY WERE JUST ABOUT TO BURST TO BOLLS. AND UNDERNEATH THE LAND LAY CAREFULLY DRAINED AND BLACK. FOR ONE LONG MOMENT HE PAUSED STUPID AGAPE WITH UTTER AMAZEMENT THEN LEANED DIZZILY AGAINST A TREE. THE SWAMP THE ETERNAL SWAMP HAD BEEN DRAINED IN ITS DEEPEST FASTNESS BUT HOW HOW. HE GAZED ABOUT PERPLEXED ASTONISHED. WHAT A FIELD OF COTTON WHAT A MARVELLOUS FIELD. BUT HOW HAD IT BEEN SAVED. HE SKIRTED THE ISLAND SLOWLY STOPPING NEAR ZORA'S OAK. HERE LAY THE READING OF THE RIDDLE WITH INFINITE WORK AND PAIN SOME ONE HAD DUG A CANAL FROM THE LAGOON TO THE CREEK INTO WHICH THE FORMER HAD DRAINED BY A LONG AND CROOKED WAY THUS ALLOWING IT TO EMPTY DIRECTLY. THE CANAL WENT STRAIGHT A HUNDRED YARDS THROUGH STUBBORN SOIL AND IT WAS OOZING NOW WITH SLIMY WATERS. HE SAT DOWN WEAK BEWILDERED AND ONE THOUGHT WAS UPPERMOST ZORA. AND WITH THE THOUGHT CAME A LOW MOAN OF PAIN. THERE SHE LAY WET BEDRAGGLED MOTIONLESS GRAY PALLID BENEATH HER DARK DRAWN SKIN HER BURNING EYES SEARCHING RESTLESSLY FOR SOME LOST THING HER LIPS A MOANING. THE EARTH STAGGERED BENEATH HIM AS HE STUMBLED ON THE MUD SPLASHED AND SUNLIGHT GLISTENED HE SAW LONG SNAKES SLITHERING ACROSS HIS PATH AND FEAR STRUCK BEASTS FLEEING BEFORE HIS COMING" }, { "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "chapter": "142345", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2094/142345/142345_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "72203020c2914140f87b0c81cddfa020a8b8e797201ba294e45044869959de1a", "seconds": 236.03, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 29.3, 29.1, 30.1, 28.1, 30.2, 25.6, 31.8, 30.3, 29.6, 28.4, 28.7, 27.6, 24.9, 27.6, 27.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 1, "reference": "IT IS A VERY FINE OLD PLACE OF RED BRICK SOFTENED BY A PALE POWDERY LICHEN WHICH HAS DISPERSED ITSELF WITH HAPPY IRREGULARITY SO AS TO BRING THE RED BRICK INTO TERMS OF FRIENDLY COMPANIONSHIP WITH THE LIMESTONE ORNAMENTS SURROUNDING THE THREE GABLES THE WINDOWS AND THE DOOR PLACE. BUT THE WINDOWS ARE PATCHED WITH WOODEN PANES AND THE DOOR I THINK IS LIKE THE GATE IT IS NEVER OPENED. FOR IT IS A SOLID HEAVY HANDSOME DOOR AND MUST ONCE HAVE BEEN IN THE HABIT OF SHUTTING WITH A SONOROUS BANG BEHIND A LIVERIED LACKEY WHO HAD JUST SEEN HIS MASTER AND MISTRESS OFF THE GROUNDS IN A CARRIAGE AND PAIR. AND NOW THE HALF WEANED CALVES THAT HAVE BEEN SHELTERING THEMSELVES IN A GORSE BUILT HOVEL AGAINST THE LEFT HAND WALL COME OUT AND SET UP A SILLY ANSWER TO THAT TERRIBLE BARK DOUBTLESS SUPPOSING THAT IT HAS REFERENCE TO BUCKETS OF MILK. A LARGE OPEN FIREPLACE WITH RUSTY DOGS IN IT AND A BARE BOARDED FLOOR AT THE FAR END FLEECES OF WOOL STACKED UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR SOME EMPTY CORN BAGS. THAT IS THE FURNITURE OF THE DINING ROOM. AND WHAT THROUGH THE LEFT HAND WINDOW. SEVERAL CLOTHES HORSES A PILLION A SPINNING WHEEL AND AN OLD BOX WIDE OPEN AND STUFFED FULL OF COLOURED RAGS. AT THE EDGE OF THIS BOX THERE LIES A GREAT WOODEN DOLL WHICH SO FAR AS MUTILATION IS CONCERNED BEARS A STRONG RESEMBLANCE TO THE FINEST GREEK SCULPTURE AND ESPECIALLY IN THE TOTAL LOSS OF ITS NOSE. NEAR IT THERE IS A LITTLE CHAIR AND THE BUTT END OF A BOY'S LEATHER LONG LASHED WHIP. THE HISTORY OF THE HOUSE IS PLAIN NOW. IT WAS ONCE THE RESIDENCE OF A COUNTRY SQUIRE WHOSE FAMILY PROBABLY DWINDLING DOWN TO MERE SPINSTERHOOD GOT MERGED IN THE MORE TERRITORIAL NAME OF DONNITHORNE. BUT THERE IS ALWAYS A STRONGER SENSE OF LIFE WHEN THE SUN IS BRILLIANT AFTER RAIN AND NOW HE IS POURING DOWN HIS BEAMS AND MAKING SPARKLES AMONG THE WET STRAW AND LIGHTING UP EVERY PATCH OF VIVID GREEN MOSS ON THE RED TILES OF THE COW SHED AND TURNING EVEN THE MUDDY WATER THAT IS HURRYING ALONG THE CHANNEL TO THE DRAIN INTO A MIRROR FOR THE YELLOW BILLED DUCKS WHO ARE SEIZING THE OPPORTUNITY OF GETTING A DRINK WITH AS MUCH BODY IN IT AS POSSIBLE. FOR THE GREAT BARN DOORS ARE THROWN WIDE OPEN AND MEN ARE BUSY THERE MENDING THE HARNESS UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF MISTER GOBY THE WHITTAW OTHERWISE SADDLER WHO ENTERTAINS THEM WITH THE LATEST TREDDLESTON GOSSIP. HETTY SORREL OFTEN TOOK THE OPPORTUNITY WHEN HER AUNT'S BACK WAS TURNED OF LOOKING AT THE PLEASING REFLECTION OF HERSELF IN THOSE POLISHED SURFACES FOR THE OAK TABLE WAS USUALLY TURNED UP LIKE A SCREEN AND WAS MORE FOR ORNAMENT THAN FOR USE AND SHE COULD SEE HERSELF SOMETIMES IN THE GREAT ROUND PEWTER DISHES THAT WERE RANGED ON THE SHELVES ABOVE THE LONG DEAL DINNER TABLE OR IN THE HOBS OF THE GRATE WHICH ALWAYS SHONE LIKE JASPER. DO NOT SUPPOSE HOWEVER THAT MISSUS POYSER WAS ELDERLY OR SHREWISH IN HER APPEARANCE SHE WAS A GOOD LOOKING WOMAN NOT MORE THAN EIGHT AND THIRTY OF FAIR COMPLEXION AND SANDY HAIR WELL SHAPEN LIGHT FOOTED. THE FAMILY LIKENESS BETWEEN HER AND HER NIECE DINAH MORRIS WITH THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER KEENNESS AND DINAH'S SERAPHIC GENTLENESS OF EXPRESSION MIGHT HAVE SERVED A PAINTER AS AN EXCELLENT SUGGESTION FOR A MARTHA AND MARY" }, { "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "chapter": "131720", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2300/131720/131720_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "1dc32345e289d5998507800e41a45ceb9e7e1c988b036c664bc5ac2c2714ac6d", "seconds": 238.51, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 160.8, 160.8, 160.8, 40.4, 160.8, 160.8, 160.8, 160.8, 160.8, 43.1, 160.8, 160.8, 46.1, 58.9, 41.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE PARIS PLANT LIKE THAT AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE WAS A TEMPORARY EXHIBIT. THE LONDON PLANT WAS LESS TEMPORARY BUT NOT PERMANENT SUPPLYING BEFORE IT WAS TORN OUT NO FEWER THAN THREE THOUSAND LAMPS IN HOTELS CHURCHES STORES AND DWELLINGS IN THE VICINITY OF HOLBORN VIADUCT. THERE MESSRS JOHNSON AND HAMMER PUT INTO PRACTICE MANY OF THE IDEAS NOW STANDARD IN THE ART AND SECURED MUCH USEFUL DATA FOR THE WORK IN NEW YORK OF WHICH THE STORY HAS JUST BEEN TOLD. AS A MATTER OF FACT THE FIRST EDISON COMMERCIAL STATION TO BE OPERATED IN THIS COUNTRY WAS THAT AT APPLETON WISCONSIN BUT ITS ONLY SERIOUS CLAIM TO NOTICE IS THAT IT WAS THE INITIAL ONE OF THE SYSTEM DRIVEN BY WATER POWER. IT WENT INTO SERVICE AUGUST FIFTEENTH EIGHTEEN EIGHTY TWO ABOUT THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE PEARL STREET STATION. THE DYNAMO ELECTRIC MACHINE THOUGH SMALL WAS ROBUST FOR UNDER ALL THE VARYING SPEEDS OF WATER POWER AND THE VICISSITUDES OF THE PLANT TO WHICH IT BELONGED IT CONTINUED IN ACTIVE USE UNTIL EIGHTEEN NINETY NINE SEVENTEEN YEARS. BUT HIS ATTENTION WAS IN REALITY CONCENTRATED CLOSELY ON THE SUPPLY OF GREAT CENTRES OF POPULATION A TASK WHICH HE THEN FELT MIGHT WELL OCCUPY HIS LIFETIME AND EXCEPT IN REGARD TO FURNISHING ISOLATED PLANTS HE DID NOT PURSUE FURTHER THE DEVELOPMENT OF HYDRO ELECTRIC STATIONS. THAT WAS LEFT TO OTHERS AND TO THE APPLICATION OF THE ALTERNATING CURRENT WHICH HAS ENABLED ENGINEERS TO HARNESS REMOTE POWERS AND WITHIN THOROUGHLY ECONOMICAL LIMITS TRANSMIT THOUSANDS OF HORSE POWER AS MUCH AS TWO HUNDRED MILES AT PRESSURES OF EIGHTY THOUSAND AND ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND VOLTS. OWING TO HIS INSISTENCE ON LOW PRESSURE DIRECT CURRENT FOR USE IN DENSELY POPULATED DISTRICTS AS THE ONLY SAFE AND TRULY UNIVERSAL PROFITABLE WAY OF DELIVERING ELECTRICAL ENERGY TO THE CONSUMERS EDISON HAS BEEN FREQUENTLY SPOKEN OF AS AN OPPONENT OF THE ALTERNATING CURRENT. THIS DOES HIM AN INJUSTICE. WHY IF WE ERECT A STATION AT THE FALLS IT IS A GREAT ECONOMY TO GET IT UP TO THE CITY. BY DIGGING A CHEAP TRENCH AND PUTTING IN AN INSULATED CABLE AND CONNECTING SUCH STATION WITH THE CENTRAL PART OF RICHMOND HAVING THE END OF THE CABLE COME UP INTO THE STATION FROM THE EARTH AND THERE CONNECTED WITH MOTORS THE POWER OF THE FALLS WOULD BE TRANSMITTED TO THESE MOTORS. IF NOW THE MOTORS WERE MADE TO RUN DYNAMOS CONVEYING LOW PRESSURE CURRENTS TO THE PUBLIC THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY WHEREBY THIS HIGH PRESSURE CURRENT COULD GET TO THE PUBLIC. IN OTHER WORDS EDISON MADE THE SHARP FUNDAMENTAL DISTINCTION BETWEEN HIGH PRESSURE ALTERNATING CURRENT FOR TRANSMISSION AND LOW PRESSURE DIRECT CURRENT FOR DISTRIBUTION AND THIS IS EXACTLY THE PRACTICE THAT HAS BEEN ADOPTED IN ALL THE GREAT CITIES OF THE COUNTRY TO DAY. THERE SEEMS NO GOOD REASON FOR BELIEVING THAT IT WILL CHANGE. IT MIGHT PERHAPS HAVE BEEN ALTOGETHER BETTER FOR EDISON FROM THE FINANCIAL STANDPOINT IF HE HAD NOT IDENTIFIED HIMSELF SO COMPLETELY WITH ONE KIND OF CURRENT BUT THAT MADE NO DIFFERENCE TO HIM AS IT WAS A MATTER OF CONVICTION AND EDISON'S CONVICTIONS ARE GRANITIC. BROAD AS THE PRAIRIES AND FREE IN THOUGHT AS THE WINDS THAT SWEEP THEM HE IS IDIOSYNCRATICALLY OPPOSED TO LOOSE AND WASTEFUL METHODS TO PLANS OF EMPIRE THAT NEGLECT THE POOR AT THE GATE. EVERYTHING HE HAS DONE HAS BEEN AIMED AT THE CONSERVATION OF ENERGY THE CONTRACTION OF SPACE THE INTENSIFICATION OF CULTURE. BURBANK AND HIS TRIBE REPRESENT IN THE VEGETABLE WORLD EDISON IN THE MECHANICAL" }, { "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "chapter": "126133", "sourceFile": "test-clean/237/126133/126133_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "85a476d51c81c73ce2f3883a8e893ef38cef89aa7aac41008c601c18ffafd42f", "seconds": 234.8, "pieces": 14, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.3, 40.5, 33.3, 39.3, 40.8, 40.5, 40.2, 40.8, 40.8, 40.4, 41.0, 41.1, 41.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "YES IT MUST BE CONFESSED POLLY WAS HOMESICK. ALL HER IMAGINATIONS OF HER MOTHER'S HARD WORK INCREASED BY HER ABSENCE LOOMED UP BEFORE HER TILL SHE WAS ALMOST READY TO FLY HOME WITHOUT A MINUTE'S WARNING. AT NIGHT WHEN NO ONE KNEW IT THE TEARS WOULD COME RACING OVER THE POOR FORLORN LITTLE FACE AND WOULD NOT BE SQUEEZED BACK. IT GOT TO BE NOTICED FINALLY AND ONE AND ALL REDOUBLED THEIR EXERTIONS TO MAKE EVERYTHING TWICE AS PLEASANT AS EVER. THE ONLY PLACE EXCEPT IN FRONT OF THE GRAND PIANO WHERE POLLY APPROACHED A STATE OF COMPARATIVE HAPPINESS WAS IN THE GREENHOUSE. HERE SHE WOULD STAY COMFORTED AND SOOTHED AMONG THE LOVELY PLANTS AND RICH EXOTICS REJOICING THE HEART OF OLD TURNER THE GARDENER WHO SINCE POLLY'S FIRST RAPTUROUS ENTRANCE HAD TAKEN HER INTO HIS GOOD GRACES FOR ALL TIME. EVERY CHANCE SHE COULD STEAL AFTER PRACTICE HOURS WERE OVER AND AFTER THE CLAMOROUS DEMANDS OF THE BOYS UPON HER TIME WERE FULLY SATISFIED WAS SEIZED TO FLY ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND TO THE FLOWERS. BUT EVEN WITH THE MUSIC AND FLOWERS THE DANCING LIGHT IN THE EYES WENT DOWN A LITTLE AND POLLY GROWING MORE SILENT AND PALE MOVED AROUND WITH A LITTLE DROOP TO THE SMALL FIGURE THAT HAD ONLY BEEN WONT TO FLY THROUGH THE WIDE HALLS AND SPACIOUS ROOMS WITH GAY AND SPRINGING STEP. POLLY DON'T LIKE US AT LAST SAID VAN ONE DAY IN DESPAIR. THEN DEAR SAID MISSUS WHITNEY YOU MUST BE KINDER TO HER THAN EVER THINK WHAT IT WOULD BE FOR ONE OF YOU TO BE AWAY FROM HOME EVEN AMONG FRIENDS. I'D LIKE IT FIRST RATE TO BE AWAY FROM PERCY SAID VAN REFLECTIVELY I WOULDN'T COME BACK IN THREE NO SIX WEEKS. MY SON SAID HIS MAMMA JUST STOP AND THINK HOW BADLY YOU WOULD FEEL IF YOU REALLY COULDN'T SEE PERCY. WELL SAID VAN AND HE SHOWED SIGNS OF RELENTING A LITTLE AT THAT BUT PERCY IS PERFECTLY AWFUL MAMMA YOU DON'T KNOW AND HE FEELS SO SMART TOO HE SAID VINDICTIVELY. WELL SAID MISSUS WHITNEY SOFTLY LET'S THINK WHAT WE CAN DO FOR POLLY IT MAKES ME FEEL VERY BADLY TO SEE HER SAD LITTLE FACE. I DON'T KNOW SAID VAN RUNNING OVER IN HIS MIND ALL THE POSSIBLE WAYS HE COULD THINK OF FOR ENTERTAINING ANYBODY UNLESS SHE'D LIKE MY NEW BOOK OF TRAVELS OR MY VELOCIPEDE HE ADDED. I'M AFRAID THOSE WOULDN'T QUITE ANSWER THE PURPOSE SAID HIS MAMMA SMILING ESPECIALLY THE LAST YET WE MUST THINK OF SOMETHING. BUT JUST HERE MISTER KING THOUGHT IT ABOUT TIME TO TAKE MATTERS INTO HIS HANDS. SO WITH A GREAT MANY CHUCKLINGS AND SHRUGGINGS WHEN NO ONE WAS BY HE HAD DEPARTED AFTER BREAKFAST ONE DAY SIMPLY SAYING HE SHOULDN'T BE BACK TO LUNCH. SOMEHOW OF ALL THE DAYS WHEN THE HOME FEELING WAS THE STRONGEST THIS DAY IT SEEMED AS IF SHE COULD BEAR IT NO LONGER. IF SHE COULD ONLY SEE PHRONSIE FOR JUST ONE MOMENT. I SHALL HAVE TO GIVE UP SHE MOANED I CAN'T BEAR IT. AND OVER WENT HER HEAD ON THE MUSIC RACK. WHERE IS SHE. SAID A VOICE OVER IN FRONT OF THE PIANO IN THE GATHERING DUSK UNMISTAKABLY MISTER KING'S. OH SHE'S ALWAYS AT THE PIANO SAID VAN SHE MUST BE THERE NOW SOMEWHERE AND THEN SOMEBODY LAUGHED. THEN CAME IN THE LOUDEST OF WHISPERS FROM LITTLE DICK OH JAPPY WHAT'LL SHE SAY. HUSH SAID ONE OF THE OTHER BOYS DO BE STILL DICK. POLLY SAT UP VERY STRAIGHT AND WHISKED OFF THE TEARS QUICKLY. HERE POLLY HOLD YOUR ARMS HE HAD ONLY STRENGTH TO GASP. AT THIS THE BUNDLE OPENED SUDDENLY AND OUT POPPED PHRONSIE. HERE I'M I'M HERE POLLY. BUT POLLY COULDN'T SPEAK AND IF JASPER HADN'T CAUGHT HER JUST IN TIME SHE WOULD HAVE TUMBLED OVER BACKWARD FROM THE STOOL PHRONSIE AND ALL. AREN'T YOU GLAD I'VE COME POLLY. ASKED PHRONSIE WITH HER LITTLE FACE CLOSE TO POLLY'S OWN. THAT BROUGHT POLLY TO" }, { "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "chapter": "134493", "sourceFile": "test-clean/237/134493/134493_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "7de5077a6645a3eb4cafc0535eff6219d1751781f79cbe7bc378f47b517f70de", "seconds": 227.01, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.6, 40.1, 40.8, 41.2, 37.5, 38.8, 41.2, 41.0, 41.4, 39.6, 41.3, 41.1, 39.4, 39.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "PART TWO NEIGHBORING FIELDS. IT IS SIXTEEN YEARS SINCE JOHN BERGSON DIED. HIS WIFE NOW LIES BESIDE HIM AND THE WHITE SHAFT THAT MARKS THEIR GRAVES GLEAMS ACROSS THE WHEAT FIELDS. COULD HE RISE FROM BENEATH IT HE WOULD NOT KNOW THE COUNTRY UNDER WHICH HE HAS BEEN ASLEEP. THE SHAGGY COAT OF THE PRAIRIE WHICH THEY LIFTED TO MAKE HIM A BED HAS VANISHED FOREVER. FROM THE NORWEGIAN GRAVEYARD ONE LOOKS OUT OVER A VAST CHECKER BOARD MARKED OFF IN SQUARES OF WHEAT AND CORN LIGHT AND DARK DARK AND LIGHT. TELEPHONE WIRES HUM ALONG THE WHITE ROADS WHICH ALWAYS RUN AT RIGHT ANGLES. FROM THE GRAVEYARD GATE ONE CAN COUNT A DOZEN GAYLY PAINTED FARMHOUSES THE GILDED WEATHER VANES ON THE BIG RED BARNS WINK AT EACH OTHER ACROSS THE GREEN AND BROWN AND YELLOW FIELDS. THE DIVIDE IS NOW THICKLY POPULATED. THE RICH SOIL YIELDS HEAVY HARVESTS THE DRY BRACING CLIMATE AND THE SMOOTHNESS OF THE LAND MAKE LABOR EASY FOR MEN AND BEASTS. THERE ARE FEW SCENES MORE GRATIFYING THAN A SPRING PLOWING IN THAT COUNTRY WHERE THE FURROWS OF A SINGLE FIELD OFTEN LIE A MILE IN LENGTH AND THE BROWN EARTH WITH SUCH A STRONG CLEAN SMELL AND SUCH A POWER OF GROWTH AND FERTILITY IN IT YIELDS ITSELF EAGERLY TO THE PLOW ROLLS AWAY FROM THE SHEAR NOT EVEN DIMMING THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE METAL WITH A SOFT DEEP SIGH OF HAPPINESS. THE WHEAT CUTTING SOMETIMES GOES ON ALL NIGHT AS WELL AS ALL DAY AND IN GOOD SEASONS THERE ARE SCARCELY MEN AND HORSES ENOUGH TO DO THE HARVESTING. THE GRAIN IS SO HEAVY THAT IT BENDS TOWARD THE BLADE AND CUTS LIKE VELVET. IT GIVES ITSELF UNGRUDGINGLY TO THE MOODS OF THE SEASON HOLDING NOTHING BACK. LIKE THE PLAINS OF LOMBARDY IT SEEMS TO RISE A LITTLE TO MEET THE SUN. THE AIR AND THE EARTH ARE CURIOUSLY MATED AND INTERMINGLED AS IF THE ONE WERE THE BREATH OF THE OTHER. YOU FEEL IN THE ATMOSPHERE THE SAME TONIC PUISSANT QUALITY THAT IS IN THE TILTH THE SAME STRENGTH AND RESOLUTENESS. ONE JUNE MORNING A YOUNG MAN STOOD AT THE GATE OF THE NORWEGIAN GRAVEYARD SHARPENING HIS SCYTHE IN STROKES UNCONSCIOUSLY TIMED TO THE TUNE HE WAS WHISTLING. HE WORE A FLANNEL CAP AND DUCK TROUSERS AND THE SLEEVES OF HIS WHITE FLANNEL SHIRT WERE ROLLED BACK TO THE ELBOW. WHEN HE WAS SATISFIED WITH THE EDGE OF HIS BLADE HE SLIPPED THE WHETSTONE INTO HIS HIP POCKET AND BEGAN TO SWING HIS SCYTHE STILL WHISTLING BUT SOFTLY OUT OF RESPECT TO THE QUIET FOLK ABOUT HIM. UNCONSCIOUS RESPECT PROBABLY FOR HE SEEMED INTENT UPON HIS OWN THOUGHTS AND LIKE THE GLADIATOR'S THEY WERE FAR AWAY. HE WAS A SPLENDID FIGURE OF A BOY TALL AND STRAIGHT AS A YOUNG PINE TREE WITH A HANDSOME HEAD AND STORMY GRAY EYES DEEPLY SET UNDER A SERIOUS BROW. THE SPACE BETWEEN HIS TWO FRONT TEETH WHICH WERE UNUSUALLY FAR APART GAVE HIM THE PROFICIENCY IN WHISTLING FOR WHICH HE WAS DISTINGUISHED AT COLLEGE. HE ALSO PLAYED THE CORNET IN THE UNIVERSITY BAND. WHEN THE GRASS REQUIRED HIS CLOSE ATTENTION OR WHEN HE HAD TO STOOP TO CUT ABOUT A HEAD STONE HE PAUSED IN HIS LIVELY AIR THE JEWEL SONG TAKING IT UP WHERE HE HAD LEFT IT WHEN HIS SCYTHE SWUNG FREE AGAIN. HE WAS NOT THINKING ABOUT THE TIRED PIONEERS OVER WHOM HIS BLADE GLITTERED. THE OLD WILD COUNTRY THE STRUGGLE IN WHICH HIS SISTER WAS DESTINED TO SUCCEED WHILE SO MANY MEN BROKE THEIR HEARTS AND DIED HE CAN SCARCELY REMEMBER" }, { "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "chapter": "134500", "sourceFile": "test-clean/237/134500/134500_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "75b920bf8d1263085703db0bfa6e8b68209b81ad8cc58446fae9869cb0d4c53f", "seconds": 236.43, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 42.4, 44.1, 45.0, 43.5, 43.0, 41.8, 43.4, 43.6, 41.9, 45.8, 40.9, 43.5, 43.6, 43.6, 42.3, 43.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "FRANK SAT UP UNTIL A LATE HOUR READING THE SUNDAY NEWSPAPERS. ONE OF THE GOULDS WAS GETTING A DIVORCE AND FRANK TOOK IT AS A PERSONAL AFFRONT. IN PRINTING THE STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN'S MARITAL TROUBLES THE KNOWING EDITOR GAVE A SUFFICIENTLY COLORED ACCOUNT OF HIS CAREER STATING THE AMOUNT OF HIS INCOME AND THE MANNER IN WHICH HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SPEND IT. FRANK READ ENGLISH SLOWLY AND THE MORE HE READ ABOUT THIS DIVORCE CASE THE ANGRIER HE GREW. HE TURNED TO HIS FARM HAND WHO WAS READING THE OTHER HALF OF THE PAPER. BY GOD. LISTEN HERE WHAT HE DO WIT HIS MONEY. AND FRANK BEGAN THE CATALOGUE OF THE YOUNG MAN'S REPUTED EXTRAVAGANCES. MARIE SIGHED. SHE THOUGHT IT HARD THAT THE GOULDS FOR WHOM SHE HAD NOTHING BUT GOOD WILL SHOULD MAKE HER SO MUCH TROUBLE. SHE HATED TO SEE THE SUNDAY NEWSPAPERS COME INTO THE HOUSE. FRANK WAS ALWAYS READING ABOUT THE DOINGS OF RICH PEOPLE AND FEELING OUTRAGED. HE HAD AN INEXHAUSTIBLE STOCK OF STORIES ABOUT THEIR CRIMES AND FOLLIES HOW THEY BRIBED THE COURTS AND SHOT DOWN THEIR BUTLERS WITH IMPUNITY WHENEVER THEY CHOSE. FRANK AND LOU BERGSON HAD VERY SIMILAR IDEAS AND THEY WERE TWO OF THE POLITICAL AGITATORS OF THE COUNTY. AFTER HE WAS GONE MARIE WENT OUT TO THE BACK PORCH TO BEGIN HER BUTTER MAKING. A BRISK WIND HAD COME UP AND WAS DRIVING PUFFY WHITE CLOUDS ACROSS THE SKY. THE ORCHARD WAS SPARKLING AND RIPPLING IN THE SUN. MARIE STOOD LOOKING TOWARD IT WISTFULLY HER HAND ON THE LID OF THE CHURN WHEN SHE HEARD A SHARP RING IN THE AIR THE MERRY SOUND OF THE WHETSTONE ON THE SCYTHE. THAT INVITATION DECIDED HER. SHE RAN INTO THE HOUSE PUT ON A SHORT SKIRT AND A PAIR OF HER HUSBAND'S BOOTS CAUGHT UP A TIN PAIL AND STARTED FOR THE ORCHARD. WHEN HE SAW HER COMING HE STOPPED AND WIPED HIS BROW. HIS YELLOW CANVAS LEGGINGS AND KHAKI TROUSERS WERE SPLASHED TO THE KNEES. ISN'T EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL AFTER THE RAIN. OH BUT I'M GLAD TO GET THIS PLACE MOWED. WHEN I HEARD IT RAINING IN THE NIGHT I THOUGHT MAYBE YOU WOULD COME AND DO IT FOR ME TO DAY. THE WIND WAKENED ME DIDN'T IT BLOW DREADFULLY. JUST SMELL THE WILD ROSES THEY ARE ALWAYS SO SPICY AFTER A RAIN. WE NEVER HAD SO MANY OF THEM IN HERE BEFORE. I SUPPOSE IT'S THE WET SEASON WILL YOU HAVE TO CUT THEM TOO. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU WHAT MAKES YOU SO FLIGHTY AM I FLIGHTY. I SUPPOSE THAT'S THE WET SEASON TOO THEN. IT'S EXCITING TO SEE EVERYTHING GROWING SO FAST AND TO GET THE GRASS CUT. PLEASE LEAVE THE ROSES TILL LAST IF YOU MUST CUT THEM. OH I DON'T MEAN ALL OF THEM I MEAN THAT LOW PLACE DOWN BY MY TREE WHERE THERE ARE SO MANY. AREN'T YOU SPLASHED LOOK AT THE SPIDER WEBS ALL OVER THE GRASS. GOOD BYE I'LL CALL YOU IF I SEE A SNAKE. IN A FEW MOMENTS HE HEARD THE CHERRIES DROPPING SMARTLY INTO THE PAIL AND HE BEGAN TO SWING HIS SCYTHE WITH THAT LONG EVEN STROKE THAT FEW AMERICAN BOYS EVER LEARN. MARIE PICKED CHERRIES AND SANG SOFTLY TO HERSELF STRIPPING ONE GLITTERING BRANCH AFTER ANOTHER SHIVERING WHEN SHE CAUGHT A SHOWER OF RAINDROPS ON HER NECK AND HAIR. AND EMIL MOWED HIS WAY SLOWLY DOWN TOWARD THE CHERRY TREES. THAT SUMMER THE RAINS HAD BEEN SO MANY AND OPPORTUNE THAT IT WAS ALMOST MORE THAN SHABATA AND HIS MAN COULD DO TO KEEP UP WITH THE CORN THE ORCHARD WAS A NEGLECTED WILDERNESS. ALL SORTS OF WEEDS AND HERBS AND FLOWERS HAD GROWN UP THERE SPLOTCHES OF WILD LARKSPUR PALE GREEN AND WHITE SPIKES OF HOARHOUND PLANTATIONS OF WILD COTTON TANGLES OF FOXTAIL AND WILD WHEAT. SOUTH OF THE APRICOT TREES CORNERING ON THE WHEATFIELD WAS FRANK'S ALFALFA WHERE MYRIADS OF WHITE AND YELLOW BUTTERFLIES WERE ALWAYS FLUTTERING ABOVE THE PURPLE BLOSSOMS. EMIL PAUSED AND STRAIGHTENED HIS BACK I DON'T KNOW. ABOUT LIKE THE GERMANS WASN'T IT. MARIE WENT ON AS IF SHE HAD NOT HEARD HIM" }, { "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "chapter": "123286", "sourceFile": "test-clean/260/123286/123286_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "8585e39725cd944d4c862b8da00a991e6a55766dfc366e24e2bea634b7ceeb25", "seconds": 234.44, "pieces": 18, "cutLevelsDb": [ 157.7, 157.7, 100.1, 157.7, 157.7, 82.0, 82.0, 157.7, 76.0, 157.7, 72.0, 157.7, 157.7, 157.7, 157.7, 157.7, 157.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "SATURDAY AUGUST FIFTEENTH THE SEA UNBROKEN ALL ROUND NO LAND IN SIGHT. THE HORIZON SEEMS EXTREMELY DISTANT. MY HEAD IS STILL STUPEFIED WITH THE VIVID REALITY OF MY DREAM. MY UNCLE HAS HAD NO DREAMS BUT HE IS OUT OF TEMPER. HE EXAMINES THE HORIZON ALL ROUND WITH HIS GLASS AND FOLDS HIS ARMS WITH THE AIR OF AN INJURED MAN. ALL MY DANGER AND SUFFERINGS WERE NEEDED TO STRIKE A SPARK OF HUMAN FEELING OUT OF HIM BUT NOW THAT I AM WELL HIS NATURE HAS RESUMED ITS SWAY. AND YET WHAT CAUSE WAS THERE FOR ANGER. IS NOT THE VOYAGE PROSPERING AS FAVOURABLY AS POSSIBLE UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES. IS NOT THE RAFT SPINNING ALONG WITH MARVELLOUS SPEED. YOU SEEM ANXIOUS MY UNCLE I SAID SEEING HIM CONTINUALLY WITH HIS GLASS TO HIS EYE ANXIOUS. NO NOT AT ALL IMPATIENT THEN. ONE MIGHT BE WITH LESS REASON THAN NOW. YET WE ARE GOING VERY FAST WHAT DOES THAT SIGNIFY. I AM NOT COMPLAINING THAT THE RATE IS SLOW BUT THAT THE SEA IS SO WIDE. I THEN REMEMBERED THAT THE PROFESSOR BEFORE STARTING HAD ESTIMATED THE LENGTH OF THIS UNDERGROUND SEA AT THIRTY LEAGUES. NOW WE HAD MADE THREE TIMES THE DISTANCE YET STILL THE SOUTHERN COAST WAS NOT IN SIGHT. WE ARE NOT DESCENDING AS WE OUGHT TO BE THE PROFESSOR DECLARES. WE ARE LOSING TIME AND THE FACT IS I HAVE NOT COME ALL THIS WAY TO TAKE A LITTLE SAIL UPON A POND ON A RAFT. HE CALLED THIS SEA A POND AND OUR LONG VOYAGE TAKING A LITTLE SAIL. BUT I REMARKED SINCE WE HAVE FOLLOWED THE ROAD THAT SAKNUSSEMM HAS SHOWN US. THAT IS JUST THE QUESTION HAVE WE FOLLOWED THAT ROAD. DID SAKNUSSEMM MEET THIS SHEET OF WATER DID HE CROSS IT. HAS NOT THE STREAM THAT WE FOLLOWED LED US ALTOGETHER ASTRAY. I CAME WITH AN OBJECT AND I MEAN TO ATTAIN IT. THEREFORE DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT VIEWS AND PROSPECTS. I TAKE THIS AS MY ANSWER AND I LEAVE THE PROFESSOR TO BITE HIS LIPS WITH IMPATIENCE. SUNDAY AUGUST SIXTEENTH. NOTHING NEW WEATHER UNCHANGED THE WIND FRESHENS. ON AWAKING MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS TO OBSERVE THE INTENSITY OF THE LIGHT. I WAS POSSESSED WITH AN APPREHENSION LEST THE ELECTRIC LIGHT SHOULD GROW DIM OR FAIL ALTOGETHER. BUT THERE SEEMED NO REASON TO FEAR. THE SHADOW OF THE RAFT WAS CLEARLY OUTLINED UPON THE SURFACE OF THE WAVES. TRULY THIS SEA IS OF INFINITE WIDTH. IT MUST BE AS WIDE AS THE MEDITERRANEAN OR THE ATLANTIC AND WHY NOT. MY UNCLE TOOK SOUNDINGS SEVERAL TIMES. BUT WHEN THE PICK WAS SHIPPED AGAIN HANS POINTED OUT ON ITS SURFACE DEEP PRINTS AS IF IT HAD BEEN VIOLENTLY COMPRESSED BETWEEN TWO HARD BODIES. I LOOKED AT THE HUNTER. I HAD RATHER NOT DISTURB HIM WHILE HE IS QUIET. I RETURN TO THE ICELANDER. TEETH I CRIED CONSIDERING THE IRON BAR WITH MORE ATTENTION. YES INDEED THOSE ARE THE MARKS OF TEETH IMPRINTED UPON THE METAL. THE JAWS WHICH THEY ARM MUST BE POSSESSED OF AMAZING STRENGTH. I COULD NOT TAKE MY EYES OFF THIS INDENTED IRON BAR. SURELY WILL MY LAST NIGHT'S DREAM BE REALISED. THESE THOUGHTS AGITATED ME ALL DAY AND MY IMAGINATION SCARCELY CALMED DOWN AFTER SEVERAL HOURS SLEEP. THE WORLD THEN BELONGED TO REPTILES. THEY POSSESSED A PERFECT ORGANISATION GIGANTIC PROPORTIONS PRODIGIOUS STRENGTH. I SHUDDER AS I RECALL THESE MONSTERS TO MY REMEMBRANCE. NO HUMAN EYE HAS EVER BEHELD THEM LIVING. I SAW AT THE HAMBURG MUSEUM THE SKELETON OF ONE OF THESE CREATURES THIRTY FEET IN LENGTH. NO SURELY IT CANNOT BE" }, { "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "chapter": "123288", "sourceFile": "test-clean/260/123288/123288_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "27ff9108b8aa665e3f354aaae41b2aa630a089fce35ec4495fb289f08c30b730", "seconds": 238.12, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 94.3, 156.7, 156.7, 156.7, 71.1, 58.4, 156.7, 70.7, 156.7, 96.0, 92.1, 76.3, 156.7, 39.0, 156.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE WIND HAS RISEN AND HAS RAPIDLY CARRIED US AWAY FROM AXEL ISLAND. THE ROARINGS BECOME LOST IN THE DISTANCE. THE WEATHER IF WE MAY USE THAT TERM WILL CHANGE BEFORE LONG. THE ATMOSPHERE IS CHARGED WITH VAPOURS PERVADED WITH THE ELECTRICITY GENERATED BY THE EVAPORATION OF SALINE WATERS. THE CLOUDS ARE SINKING LOWER AND ASSUME AN OLIVE HUE. THE ELECTRIC LIGHT CAN SCARCELY PENETRATE THROUGH THE DENSE CURTAIN WHICH HAS DROPPED OVER THE THEATRE ON WHICH THE BATTLE OF THE ELEMENTS IS ABOUT TO BE WAGED. I FEEL PECULIAR SENSATIONS LIKE MANY CREATURES ON EARTH AT THE APPROACH OF VIOLENT ATMOSPHERIC CHANGES. THE HEAVILY VOLUTED CUMULUS CLOUDS LOWER GLOOMILY AND THREATENINGLY THEY WEAR THAT IMPLACABLE LOOK WHICH I HAVE SOMETIMES NOTICED AT THE OUTBREAK OF A GREAT STORM. THE AIR IS HEAVY THE SEA IS CALM. IN THE DISTANCE THE CLOUDS RESEMBLE GREAT BALES OF COTTON PILED UP IN PICTURESQUE DISORDER. BY DEGREES THEY DILATE AND GAIN IN HUGE SIZE WHAT THEY LOSE IN NUMBER. SUCH IS THEIR PONDEROUS WEIGHT THAT THEY CANNOT RISE FROM THE HORIZON BUT OBEYING AN IMPULSE FROM HIGHER CURRENTS THEIR DENSE CONSISTENCY SLOWLY YIELDS. THE GLOOM UPON THEM DEEPENS AND THEY SOON PRESENT TO OUR VIEW A PONDEROUS MASS OF ALMOST LEVEL SURFACE. FROM TIME TO TIME A FLEECY TUFT OF MIST WITH YET SOME GLEAMING LIGHT LEFT UPON IT DROPS DOWN UPON THE DENSE FLOOR OF GREY AND LOSES ITSELF IN THE OPAQUE AND IMPENETRABLE MASS. THE ATMOSPHERE IS EVIDENTLY CHARGED AND SURCHARGED WITH ELECTRICITY. MY WHOLE BODY IS SATURATED MY HAIR BRISTLES JUST AS WHEN YOU STAND UPON AN INSULATED STOOL UNDER THE ACTION OF AN ELECTRICAL MACHINE. IT SEEMS TO ME AS IF MY COMPANIONS THE MOMENT THEY TOUCHED ME WOULD RECEIVE A SEVERE SHOCK LIKE THAT FROM AN ELECTRIC EEL. AT TEN IN THE MORNING THE SYMPTOMS OF STORM BECOME AGGRAVATED. THE WIND NEVER LULLS BUT TO ACQUIRE INCREASED STRENGTH THE VAST BANK OF HEAVY CLOUDS IS A HUGE RESERVOIR OF FEARFUL WINDY GUSTS AND RUSHING STORMS. HERE'S SOME VERY BAD WEATHER COMING ON. THE PROFESSOR MADE NO ANSWER. HIS TEMPER IS AWFUL TO JUDGE FROM THE WORKING OF HIS FEATURES AS HE SEES THIS VAST LENGTH OF OCEAN UNROLLING BEFORE HIM TO AN INDEFINITE EXTENT. HE CAN ONLY SPARE TIME TO SHRUG HIS SHOULDERS VICIOUSLY. THERE'S A HEAVY STORM COMING ON I CRIED POINTING TOWARDS THE HORIZON. THOSE CLOUDS SEEM AS IF THEY WERE GOING TO CRUSH THE SEA. A DEEP SILENCE FALLS ON ALL AROUND. THE LATELY ROARING WINDS ARE HUSHED INTO A DEAD CALM NATURE SEEMS TO BREATHE NO MORE AND TO BE SINKING INTO THE STILLNESS OF DEATH. ON THE MAST ALREADY I SEE THE LIGHT PLAY OF A LAMBENT SAINT ELMO'S FIRE THE OUTSTRETCHED SAIL CATCHES NOT A BREATH OF WIND AND HANGS LIKE A SHEET OF LEAD. THE RUDDER STANDS MOTIONLESS IN A SLUGGISH WAVELESS SEA. BUT IF WE HAVE NOW CEASED TO ADVANCE WHY DO WE YET LEAVE THAT SAIL LOOSE WHICH AT THE FIRST SHOCK OF THE TEMPEST MAY CAPSIZE US IN A MOMENT. THAT WILL BE SAFEST NO NO NEVER. SHOUTED MY IMPETUOUS UNCLE NEVER. LET THE WIND CATCH US IF IT WILL. THE WORDS WERE HARDLY OUT OF HIS MOUTH WHEN A SUDDEN CHANGE TOOK PLACE IN THE SOUTHERN SKY. THE PILED UP VAPOURS CONDENSE INTO WATER AND THE AIR PUT INTO VIOLENT ACTION TO SUPPLY THE VACUUM LEFT BY THE CONDENSATION OF THE MISTS ROUSES ITSELF INTO A WHIRLWIND. IT RUSHES ON FROM THE FARTHEST RECESSES OF THE VAST CAVERN. THE DARKNESS DEEPENS SCARCELY CAN I JOT DOWN A FEW HURRIED NOTES. THE HELM MAKES A BOUND MY UNCLE FALLS FULL LENGTH I CREEP CLOSE TO HIM" }, { "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "chapter": "123440", "sourceFile": "test-clean/260/123440/123440_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "805f341fdd24d28a75d4633567b55f7a736510731e8f2638de39205842ed5a45", "seconds": 239.23, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 158.1, 158.1, 158.1, 57.8, 158.1, 67.5, 158.1, 158.1, 72.8, 79.5, 100.4, 158.1, 66.4, 158.1, 39.1, 34.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "OH MY POOR LITTLE FEET I WONDER WHO WILL PUT ON YOUR SHOES AND STOCKINGS FOR YOU NOW DEARS. AND HOW ODD THE DIRECTIONS WILL LOOK. HEARTHRUG NEAR THE FENDER WITH ALICE'S LOVE. OH DEAR WHAT NONSENSE I'M TALKING. JUST THEN HER HEAD STRUCK AGAINST THE ROOF OF THE HALL IN FACT SHE WAS NOW MORE THAN NINE FEET HIGH AND SHE AT ONCE TOOK UP THE LITTLE GOLDEN KEY AND HURRIED OFF TO THE GARDEN DOOR. POOR ALICE. IT WAS AS MUCH AS SHE COULD DO LYING DOWN ON ONE SIDE TO LOOK THROUGH INTO THE GARDEN WITH ONE EYE BUT TO GET THROUGH WAS MORE HOPELESS THAN EVER SHE SAT DOWN AND BEGAN TO CRY AGAIN. YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF SAID ALICE A GREAT GIRL LIKE YOU SHE MIGHT WELL SAY THIS TO GO ON CRYING IN THIS WAY STOP THIS MOMENT I TELL YOU. BUT SHE WENT ON ALL THE SAME SHEDDING GALLONS OF TEARS UNTIL THERE WAS A LARGE POOL ALL ROUND HER ABOUT FOUR INCHES DEEP AND REACHING HALF DOWN THE HALL. AFTER A TIME SHE HEARD A LITTLE PATTERING OF FEET IN THE DISTANCE AND SHE HASTILY DRIED HER EYES TO SEE WHAT WAS COMING. IT WAS THE WHITE RABBIT RETURNING SPLENDIDLY DRESSED WITH A PAIR OF WHITE KID GLOVES IN ONE HAND AND A LARGE FAN IN THE OTHER HE CAME TROTTING ALONG IN A GREAT HURRY MUTTERING TO HIMSELF AS HE CAME OH THE DUCHESS THE DUCHESS. OH WON'T SHE BE SAVAGE IF I'VE KEPT HER WAITING. ALICE FELT SO DESPERATE THAT SHE WAS READY TO ASK HELP OF ANY ONE SO WHEN THE RABBIT CAME NEAR HER SHE BEGAN IN A LOW TIMID VOICE IF YOU PLEASE SIR THE RABBIT STARTED VIOLENTLY DROPPED THE WHITE KID GLOVES AND THE FAN AND SKURRIED AWAY INTO THE DARKNESS AS HARD AS HE COULD GO. ALICE TOOK UP THE FAN AND GLOVES AND AS THE HALL WAS VERY HOT SHE KEPT FANNING HERSELF ALL THE TIME SHE WENT ON TALKING DEAR DEAR HOW QUEER EVERYTHING IS TO DAY. AND YESTERDAY THINGS WENT ON JUST AS USUAL. I WONDER IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED IN THE NIGHT. LET ME THINK WAS I THE SAME WHEN I GOT UP THIS MORNING. I ALMOST THINK I CAN REMEMBER FEELING A LITTLE DIFFERENT. BUT IF I'M NOT THE SAME THE NEXT QUESTION IS WHO IN THE WORLD AM I. AH THAT'S THE GREAT PUZZLE. I'M SURE I'M NOT ADA SHE SAID FOR HER HAIR GOES IN SUCH LONG RINGLETS AND MINE DOESN'T GO IN RINGLETS AT ALL AND I'M SURE I CAN'T BE MABEL FOR I KNOW ALL SORTS OF THINGS AND SHE OH SHE KNOWS SUCH A VERY LITTLE. BESIDES SHE'S SHE AND I'M I AND OH DEAR HOW PUZZLING IT ALL IS. I'LL TRY IF I KNOW ALL THE THINGS I USED TO KNOW. I SHALL NEVER GET TO TWENTY AT THAT RATE. HOWEVER THE MULTIPLICATION TABLE DOESN'T SIGNIFY LET'S TRY GEOGRAPHY. LONDON IS THE CAPITAL OF PARIS AND PARIS IS THE CAPITAL OF ROME AND ROME NO THAT'S ALL WRONG I'M CERTAIN. I MUST HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR MABEL. HOW CHEERFULLY HE SEEMS TO GRIN HOW NEATLY SPREAD HIS CLAWS AND WELCOME LITTLE FISHES IN WITH GENTLY SMILING JAWS. I'M SURE THOSE ARE NOT THE RIGHT WORDS SAID POOR ALICE AND HER EYES FILLED WITH TEARS AGAIN AS SHE WENT ON I MUST BE MABEL AFTER ALL AND I SHALL HAVE TO GO AND LIVE IN THAT POKY LITTLE HOUSE AND HAVE NEXT TO NO TOYS TO PLAY WITH AND OH. EVER SO MANY LESSONS TO LEARN. NO I'VE MADE UP MY MIND ABOUT IT IF I'M MABEL I'LL STAY DOWN HERE. IT'LL BE NO USE THEIR PUTTING THEIR HEADS DOWN AND SAYING COME UP AGAIN DEAR. TELL ME THAT FIRST AND THEN IF I LIKE BEING THAT PERSON I'LL COME UP IF NOT I'LL STAY DOWN HERE TILL I'M SOMEBODY ELSE BUT OH DEAR CRIED ALICE WITH A SUDDEN BURST OF TEARS I DO WISH THEY WOULD PUT THEIR HEADS DOWN. I AM SO VERY TIRED OF BEING ALL ALONE HERE" }, { "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "chapter": "3979", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2830/3979/3979_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "dba03c0fe072c6cd3d33b307b1e39164a2a27918e67744797d819284264ce3d9", "seconds": 203.04, "pieces": 13, "cutLevelsDb": [ 26.3, 26.8, 26.3, 26.5, 26.4, 26.3, 26.1, 26.1, 26.2, 26.1, 26.1, 26.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "WE WANT YOU TO HELP US PUBLISH SOME LEADING WORK OF LUTHER'S FOR THE GENERAL AMERICAN MARKET WILL YOU DO IT. I WILL ON ONE CONDITION AND WHAT IS THAT. THE CONDITION IS THAT I WILL BE PERMITTED TO MAKE LUTHER TALK AMERICAN STREAMLINE HIM SO TO SPEAK BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER GET PEOPLE WHETHER IN OR OUTSIDE THE LUTHERAN CHURCH ACTUALLY TO READ LUTHER UNLESS WE MAKE HIM TALK AS HE WOULD TALK TODAY TO AMERICANS. AND WHAT BOOK WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE. THERE IS ONE BOOK THAT LUTHER HIMSELF LIKES BETTER THAN ANY OTHER. LET US BEGIN WITH THAT HIS COMMENTARY ON GALATIANS. THE UNDERTAKING WHICH SEEMED SO ATTRACTIVE WHEN VIEWED AS A LITERARY TASK PROVED A MOST DIFFICULT ONE AND AT TIMES BECAME OPPRESSIVE. THE LETTER TO THE GALATIANS CONSISTS OF SIX SHORT CHAPTERS. IT WAS WRITTEN IN LATIN. IT WOULD HAVE RUN TO MORE THAN FIFTEEN HUNDRED PAGES ORDINARY OCTAVO LIKE THIS SINCE IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO USE THE COMPRESSED STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES WHICH IS CHARACTERISTIC OF LATIN AND PARTICULARLY OF LUTHER'S LATIN. THE WORK HAD TO BE CONDENSED. GERMAN AND ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS ARE AVAILABLE BUT THE MOST ACCEPTABLE ENGLISH VERSION BESIDES LABORING UNDER THE HANDICAPS OF AN ARCHAIC STYLE HAD TO BE CONDENSED INTO HALF ITS VOLUME IN ORDER TO ACCOMPLISH THE STREAMLINING OF THE BOOK. A WORD SHOULD NOW BE SAID ABOUT THE ORIGIN OF LUTHER'S COMMENTARY ON GALATIANS. THE REFORMER HAD LECTURED ON THIS EPISTLE OF SAINT PAUL'S IN FIFTEEN NINETEEN AND AGAIN IN FIFTEEN TWENTY THREE. IT WAS HIS FAVORITE AMONG ALL THE BIBLICAL BOOKS. IN HIS TABLE TALKS THE SAYING IS RECORDED THE EPISTLE TO THE GALATIANS IS MY EPISTLE. TO IT I AM AS IT WERE IN WEDLOCK IT IS MY KATHERINE. MUCH LATER WHEN A FRIEND OF HIS WAS PREPARING AN EDITION OF ALL HIS LATIN WORKS HE REMARKED TO HIS HOME CIRCLE IF I HAD MY WAY ABOUT IT THEY WOULD REPUBLISH ONLY THOSE OF MY BOOKS WHICH HAVE DOCTRINE MY GALATIANS FOR INSTANCE. THE LECTURES WHICH ARE PRESERVED IN THE WORKS HEREWITH SUBMITTED TO THE AMERICAN PUBLIC WERE DELIVERED IN FIFTEEN THIRTY ONE. THEY WERE TAKEN DOWN BY GEORGE ROERER WHO HELD SOMETHING OF A DEANSHIP AT WITTENBERG UNIVERSITY AND WHO WAS ONE OF LUTHER'S AIDS IN THE TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE. IN OTHER WORDS THESE THREE MEN TOOK DOWN THE LECTURES WHICH LUTHER ADDRESSED TO HIS STUDENTS IN THE COURSE OF GALATIANS AND ROERER PREPARED THE MANUSCRIPT FOR THE PRINTER. A GERMAN TRANSLATION BY JUSTUS MENIUS APPEARED IN THE WITTENBERG EDITION OF LUTHER'S WRITINGS PUBLISHED IN FIFTEEN THIRTY NINE. IT PRESENTS LIKE NO OTHER OF LUTHER'S WRITINGS THE CENTRAL THOUGHT OF CHRISTIANITY THE JUSTIFICATION OF THE SINNER FOR THE SAKE OF CHRIST'S MERITS ALONE. WE HAVE PERMITTED IN THE FINAL REVISION OF THE MANUSCRIPT MANY A PASSAGE TO STAND WHICH SEEMED WEAK AND INEFFECTUAL WHEN COMPARED WITH THE TRUMPET TONES OF THE LATIN ORIGINAL. BUT THE ESSENCE OF LUTHER'S LECTURES IS THERE. MAY THE READER ACCEPT WITH INDULGENCE WHERE IN THIS TRANSLATION WE HAVE GONE TOO FAR IN MODERNIZING LUTHER'S EXPRESSION MAKING HIM TALK AMERICAN. THE LORD WHO HAS GIVEN US POWER TO TEACH AND TO HEAR LET HIM ALSO GIVE US THE POWER TO SERVE AND TO DO LUKE TWO. GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST AND ON EARTH PEACE GOOD WILL TO MEN. ISAIAH FORTY. THE WORD OF OUR GOD SHALL STAND FOREVER" }, { "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "chapter": "3980", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2830/3980/3980_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "54c3da365a1d7ec9e77ef1b8f24844f5203b862ad839dddc774316fbb9e970bd", "seconds": 239.88, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 32.7, 34.2, 32.4, 33.3, 32.9, 32.8, 33.3, 34.0, 33.3, 32.8, 26.8, 26.6, 25.3, 13.0, 16.0, 11.9 ], "cutsNotInPause": 3, "reference": "THE WORLD BEARS THE GOSPEL A GRUDGE BECAUSE THE GOSPEL CONDEMNS THE RELIGIOUS WISDOM OF THE WORLD. JEALOUS FOR ITS OWN RELIGIOUS VIEWS THE WORLD IN TURN CHARGES THE GOSPEL WITH BEING A SUBVERSIVE AND LICENTIOUS DOCTRINE OFFENSIVE TO GOD AND MAN A DOCTRINE TO BE PERSECUTED AS THE WORST PLAGUE ON EARTH. AS A RESULT WE HAVE THIS PARADOXICAL SITUATION THE GOSPEL SUPPLIES THE WORLD WITH THE SALVATION OF JESUS CHRIST PEACE OF CONSCIENCE AND EVERY BLESSING. JUST FOR THAT THE WORLD ABHORS THE GOSPEL. IN EVERY WAY THEY SOUGHT TO UNDERMINE THE AUTHORITY OF SAINT PAUL. THEY SAID TO THE GALATIANS YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO THINK HIGHLY OF PAUL. HE WAS THE LAST TO TURN TO CHRIST. BUT WE HAVE SEEN CHRIST WE HEARD HIM PREACH. PAUL CAME LATER AND IS BENEATH US. IT IS POSSIBLE FOR US TO BE IN ERROR WE WHO HAVE RECEIVED THE HOLY GHOST PAUL STANDS ALONE. HE HAS NOT SEEN CHRIST NOR HAS HE HAD MUCH CONTACT WITH THE OTHER APOSTLES. INDEED HE PERSECUTED THE CHURCH OF CHRIST FOR A LONG TIME. WHEN MEN CLAIMING SUCH CREDENTIALS COME ALONG THEY DECEIVE NOT ONLY THE NAIVE BUT ALSO THOSE WHO SEEMINGLY ARE WELL ESTABLISHED IN THE FAITH. THIS SAME ARGUMENT IS USED BY THE PAPACY. DO YOU SUPPOSE THAT GOD FOR THE SAKE OF A FEW LUTHERAN HERETICS WOULD DISOWN HIS ENTIRE CHURCH. OR DO YOU SUPPOSE THAT GOD WOULD HAVE LEFT HIS CHURCH FLOUNDERING IN ERROR ALL THESE CENTURIES. THE GALATIANS WERE TAKEN IN BY SUCH ARGUMENTS WITH THE RESULT THAT PAUL'S AUTHORITY AND DOCTRINE WERE DRAWN IN QUESTION. AGAINST THESE BOASTING FALSE APOSTLES PAUL BOLDLY DEFENDS HIS APOSTOLIC AUTHORITY AND MINISTRY. HUMBLE MAN THAT HE WAS HE WILL NOT NOW TAKE A BACK SEAT. THE CERTAINTY OF OUR CALLING. AS THE AMBASSADOR OF A GOVERNMENT IS HONORED FOR HIS OFFICE AND NOT FOR HIS PRIVATE PERSON SO THE MINISTER OF CHRIST SHOULD EXALT HIS OFFICE IN ORDER TO GAIN AUTHORITY AMONG MEN. THIS IS NOT VAIN GLORY BUT NEEDFUL GLORYING. PAUL TAKES PRIDE IN HIS MINISTRY NOT TO HIS OWN PRAISE BUT TO THE PRAISE OF GOD. PAUL EXALTS HIS MINISTRY OUT OF THE DESIRE TO MAKE KNOWN THE NAME THE GRACE AND THE MERCY OF GOD VERSE ONE. PAUL AN APOSTLE NOT OF MEN ET CETERA. PAUL LOSES NO TIME IN DEFENDING HIMSELF AGAINST THE CHARGE THAT HE HAD THRUST HIMSELF INTO THE MINISTRY. HE SAYS TO THE GALATIANS MY CALL MAY SEEM INFERIOR TO YOU. WHEN PAUL SPEAKS OF THOSE CALLED BY MEN I TAKE IT HE MEANS THOSE WHOM NEITHER GOD NOR MAN SENT BUT WHO GO WHEREVER THEY LIKE AND SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES. WHEN PAUL SPEAKS OF THOSE CALLED BY MAN I TAKE IT HE MEANS THOSE WHO HAVE A DIVINE CALL EXTENDED TO THEM THROUGH OTHER PERSONS. GOD CALLS IN TWO WAYS. EITHER HE CALLS MINISTERS THROUGH THE AGENCY OF MEN OR HE CALLS THEM DIRECTLY AS HE CALLED THE PROPHETS AND APOSTLES. PAUL DECLARES THAT THE FALSE APOSTLES WERE CALLED OR SENT NEITHER BY MEN NOR BY MAN. THE MOST THEY COULD CLAIM IS THAT THEY WERE SENT BY OTHERS. BUT AS FOR ME I WAS CALLED NEITHER OF MEN NOR BY MAN BUT DIRECTLY BY JESUS CHRIST. MY CALL IS IN EVERY RESPECT LIKE THE CALL OF THE APOSTLES. IN FACT I AM AN APOSTLE. HE MENTIONS THE APOSTLES FIRST BECAUSE THEY WERE APPOINTED DIRECTLY BY GOD. MATTHIAS WAS CALLED IN THIS MANNER. THE APOSTLES CHOSE TWO CANDIDATES AND THEN CAST LOTS PRAYING THAT GOD WOULD INDICATE WHICH ONE HE WOULD HAVE. TO BE AN APOSTLE HE HAD TO HAVE HIS APPOINTMENT FROM GOD. IN THE SAME MANNER PAUL WAS CALLED AS THE APOSTLE OF THE GENTILES. THE CALL IS NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. FOR A PERSON TO POSSESS KNOWLEDGE IS NOT ENOUGH. HE MUST BE SURE THAT HE IS PROPERLY CALLED. THIS IS OUR COMFORT IN THE MINISTRY THAT OURS IS A DIVINE OFFICE TO WHICH WE HAVE BEEN DIVINELY CALLED. REVERSELY WHAT AN AWFUL THING IT MUST BE FOR THE CONSCIENCE IF ONE IS NOT PROPERLY CALLED. IT SPOILS ONE'S BEST WORK. WHEN I WAS A YOUNG MAN I THOUGHT PAUL WAS MAKING TOO MUCH OF HIS CALL. I DID NOT UNDERSTAND HIS PURPOSE. I DID NOT THEN REALIZE THE IMPORTANCE OF THE MINISTRY" }, { "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "chapter": "960", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2961/960/960_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "0f4f6bebdc14e1c4393a2ea4632417cb10cd64cda1e99eedf6b92fd55891f45c", "seconds": 233.54, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 28.1, 31.5, 29.5, 29.0, 32.4, 30.6, 31.3, 30.3, 30.6, 32.4, 29.7, 29.9, 29.8, 28.3, 28.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE OBSCURITY ARISES IN THE INFANCY OF PHYSICAL SCIENCE OUT OF THE CONFUSION OF THEOLOGICAL MATHEMATICAL AND PHYSIOLOGICAL NOTIONS OUT OF THE DESIRE TO CONCEIVE THE WHOLE OF NATURE WITHOUT ANY ADEQUATE KNOWLEDGE OF THE PARTS AND FROM A GREATER PERCEPTION OF SIMILARITIES WHICH LIE ON THE SURFACE THAN OF DIFFERENCES WHICH ARE HIDDEN FROM VIEW. TO BRING SENSE UNDER THE CONTROL OF REASON TO FIND SOME WAY THROUGH THE MIST OR LABYRINTH OF APPEARANCES EITHER THE HIGHWAY OF MATHEMATICS OR MORE DEVIOUS PATHS SUGGESTED BY THE ANALOGY OF MAN WITH THE WORLD AND OF THE WORLD WITH MAN TO SEE THAT ALL THINGS HAVE A CAUSE AND ARE TENDING TOWARDS AN END THIS IS THE SPIRIT OF THE ANCIENT PHYSICAL PHILOSOPHER. HE HAS NO NOTION OF TRYING AN EXPERIMENT AND IS HARDLY CAPABLE OF OBSERVING THE CURIOSITIES OF NATURE WHICH ARE TUMBLING OUT AT HIS FEET OR OF INTERPRETING EVEN THE MOST OBVIOUS OF THEM. HE IS DRIVEN BACK FROM THE NEARER TO THE MORE DISTANT FROM PARTICULARS TO GENERALITIES FROM THE EARTH TO THE STARS. HE LIFTS UP HIS EYES TO THE HEAVENS AND SEEKS TO GUIDE BY THEIR MOTIONS HIS ERRING FOOTSTEPS. BUT WE NEITHER APPRECIATE THE CONDITIONS OF KNOWLEDGE TO WHICH HE WAS SUBJECTED NOR HAVE THE IDEAS WHICH FASTENED UPON HIS IMAGINATION THE SAME HOLD UPON US. FOR HE IS HANGING BETWEEN MATTER AND MIND HE IS UNDER THE DOMINION AT THE SAME TIME BOTH OF SENSE AND OF ABSTRACTIONS HIS IMPRESSIONS ARE TAKEN ALMOST AT RANDOM FROM THE OUTSIDE OF NATURE HE SEES THE LIGHT BUT NOT THE OBJECTS WHICH ARE REVEALED BY THE LIGHT AND HE BRINGS INTO JUXTAPOSITION THINGS WHICH TO US APPEAR WIDE AS THE POLES ASUNDER BECAUSE HE FINDS NOTHING BETWEEN THEM. HE PASSES ABRUPTLY FROM PERSONS TO IDEAS AND NUMBERS AND FROM IDEAS AND NUMBERS TO PERSONS FROM THE HEAVENS TO MAN FROM ASTRONOMY TO PHYSIOLOGY HE CONFUSES OR RATHER DOES NOT DISTINGUISH SUBJECT AND OBJECT FIRST AND FINAL CAUSES AND IS DREAMING OF GEOMETRICAL FIGURES LOST IN A FLUX OF SENSE. HE HAS NO IMPLEMENTS OF OBSERVATION SUCH AS THE TELESCOPE OR MICROSCOPE THE GREAT SCIENCE OF CHEMISTRY IS A BLANK TO HIM. IT IS ONLY BY AN EFFORT THAT THE MODERN THINKER CAN BREATHE THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE ANCIENT PHILOSOPHER OR UNDERSTAND HOW UNDER SUCH UNEQUAL CONDITIONS HE SEEMS IN MANY INSTANCES BY A SORT OF INSPIRATION TO HAVE ANTICIPATED THE TRUTH. THE INFLUENCE WITH THE TIMAEUS HAS EXERCISED UPON POSTERITY IS DUE PARTLY TO A MISUNDERSTANDING. IN THE SUPPOSED DEPTHS OF THIS DIALOGUE THE NEO PLATONISTS FOUND HIDDEN MEANINGS AND CONNECTIONS WITH THE JEWISH AND CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES AND OUT OF THEM THEY ELICITED DOCTRINES QUITE AT VARIANCE WITH THE SPIRIT OF PLATO. BELIEVING THAT HE WAS INSPIRED BY THE HOLY GHOST OR HAD RECEIVED HIS WISDOM FROM MOSES THEY SEEMED TO FIND IN HIS WRITINGS THE CHRISTIAN TRINITY THE WORD THE CHURCH THE CREATION OF THE WORLD IN A JEWISH SENSE AS THEY REALLY FOUND THE PERSONALITY OF GOD OR OF MIND AND THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL" }, { "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "chapter": "961", "sourceFile": "test-clean/2961/961/961_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "7f5563fd38656dff29dc4284037e797bf2f1540e7f610b6cd0094895bb955346", "seconds": 233.47, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 43.0, 43.0, 45.0, 44.5, 44.8, 42.7, 45.7, 44.1, 44.5, 44.9, 46.2, 44.8, 43.7, 43.5, 45.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "SOCRATES BEGINS THE TIMAEUS WITH A SUMMARY OF THE REPUBLIC. HE LIGHTLY TOUCHES UPON A FEW POINTS THE DIVISION OF LABOUR AND DISTRIBUTION OF THE CITIZENS INTO CLASSES THE DOUBLE NATURE AND TRAINING OF THE GUARDIANS THE COMMUNITY OF PROPERTY AND OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN. BUT HE MAKES NO MENTION OF THE SECOND EDUCATION OR OF THE GOVERNMENT OF PHILOSOPHERS. AND NOW HE DESIRES TO SEE THE IDEAL STATE SET IN MOTION HE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW SHE BEHAVED IN SOME GREAT STRUGGLE. AND THEREFORE TO YOU I TURN TIMAEUS CITIZEN OF LOCRIS WHO ARE AT ONCE A PHILOSOPHER AND A STATESMAN AND TO YOU CRITIAS WHOM ALL ATHENIANS KNOW TO BE SIMILARLY ACCOMPLISHED AND TO HERMOCRATES WHO IS ALSO FITTED BY NATURE AND EDUCATION TO SHARE IN OUR DISCOURSE. HERMOCRATES WE WILL DO OUR BEST AND HAVE BEEN ALREADY PREPARING FOR ON OUR WAY HOME CRITIAS TOLD US OF AN ANCIENT TRADITION WHICH I WISH CRITIAS THAT YOU WOULD REPEAT TO SOCRATES. I WILL IF TIMAEUS APPROVES I APPROVE. LISTEN THEN SOCRATES TO A TALE OF SOLON'S WHO BEING THE FRIEND OF DROPIDAS MY GREAT GRANDFATHER TOLD IT TO MY GRANDFATHER CRITIAS AND HE TOLD ME. THE NARRATIVE RELATED TO ANCIENT FAMOUS ACTIONS OF THE ATHENIAN PEOPLE AND TO ONE ESPECIALLY WHICH I WILL REHEARSE IN HONOUR OF YOU AND OF THE GODDESS. CRITIAS WHEN HE TOLD THIS TALE OF THE OLDEN TIME WAS NINETY YEARS OLD I BEING NOT MORE THAN TEN. THE OCCASION OF THE REHEARSAL WAS THE DAY OF THE APATURIA CALLED THE REGISTRATION OF YOUTH AT WHICH OUR PARENTS GAVE PRIZES FOR RECITATION. SOME POEMS OF SOLON WERE RECITED BY THE BOYS. THEY HAD NOT AT THAT TIME GONE OUT OF FASHION AND THE RECITAL OF THEM LED SOME ONE TO SAY PERHAPS IN COMPLIMENT TO CRITIAS THAT SOLON WAS NOT ONLY THE WISEST OF MEN BUT ALSO THE BEST OF POETS. AND WHAT WAS THE SUBJECT OF THE POEM SAID THE PERSON WHO MADE THE REMARK. THE SUBJECT WAS A VERY NOBLE ONE HE DESCRIBED THE MOST FAMOUS ACTION IN WHICH THE ATHENIAN PEOPLE WERE EVER ENGAGED. BUT THE MEMORY OF THEIR EXPLOITS HAS PASSED AWAY OWING TO THE LAPSE OF TIME AND THE EXTINCTION OF THE ACTORS. TELL US SAID THE OTHER THE WHOLE STORY AND WHERE SOLON HEARD THE STORY. THE CITIZENS HAVE A FRIENDLY FEELING TOWARDS THE ATHENIANS BELIEVING THEMSELVES TO BE RELATED TO THEM. HITHER CAME SOLON AND WAS RECEIVED WITH HONOUR AND HERE HE FIRST LEARNT BY CONVERSING WITH THE EGYPTIAN PRIESTS HOW IGNORANT HE AND HIS COUNTRYMEN WERE OF ANTIQUITY. THEREUPON AN AGED PRIEST SAID TO HIM O SOLON SOLON YOU HELLENES ARE EVER YOUNG AND THERE IS NO OLD MAN WHO IS A HELLENE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ASKED. IN MIND REPLIED THE PRIEST I MEAN TO SAY THAT YOU ARE CHILDREN THERE IS NO OPINION OR TRADITION OF KNOWLEDGE AMONG YOU WHICH IS WHITE WITH AGE AND I WILL TELL YOU WHY. LIKE THE REST OF MANKIND YOU HAVE SUFFERED FROM CONVULSIONS OF NATURE WHICH ARE CHIEFLY BROUGHT ABOUT BY THE TWO GREAT AGENCIES OF FIRE AND WATER. FOR THERE OCCURS AT LONG INTERVALS A DERANGEMENT OF THE HEAVENLY BODIES AND THEN THE EARTH IS DESTROYED BY FIRE. NOW THE NILE IS OUR SAVIOUR FROM FIRE AND AS THERE IS LITTLE RAIN IN EGYPT WE ARE NOT HARMED BY WATER WHEREAS IN OTHER COUNTRIES WHEN A DELUGE COMES THE INHABITANTS ARE SWEPT BY THE RIVERS INTO THE SEA" }, { "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "chapter": "5694", "sourceFile": "test-clean/3570/5694/5694_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "94d8c7531ee90f10a11819fb9700d7e2bd0c8438881e3731a2910f63f28acf2a", "seconds": 235.57, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 48.8, 80.8, 48.0, 52.5, 51.3, 157.6, 54.5, 40.9, 64.2, 46.5, 59.6, 157.6, 157.6, 49.2, 157.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "ONE PORTION OF THE SERVANT CLASS CHIEFLY THOSE PERSONS WHOSE OCCUPATION IS VICARIOUS LEISURE COME TO UNDERTAKE A NEW SUBSIDIARY RANGE OF DUTIES THE VICARIOUS CONSUMPTION OF GOODS. THE MOST OBVIOUS FORM IN WHICH THIS CONSUMPTION OCCURS IS SEEN IN THE WEARING OF LIVERIES AND THE OCCUPATION OF SPACIOUS SERVANTS QUARTERS. ANOTHER SCARCELY LESS OBTRUSIVE OR LESS EFFECTIVE FORM OF VICARIOUS CONSUMPTION AND A MUCH MORE WIDELY PREVALENT ONE IS THE CONSUMPTION OF FOOD CLOTHING DWELLING AND FURNITURE BY THE LADY AND THE REST OF THE DOMESTIC ESTABLISHMENT. BUT ALREADY AT A POINT IN ECONOMIC EVOLUTION FAR ANTEDATING THE EMERGENCE OF THE LADY SPECIALISED CONSUMPTION OF GOODS AS AN EVIDENCE OF PECUNIARY STRENGTH HAD BEGUN TO WORK OUT IN A MORE OR LESS ELABORATE SYSTEM. THE BEGINNING OF A DIFFERENTIATION IN CONSUMPTION EVEN ANTEDATES THE APPEARANCE OF ANYTHING THAT CAN FAIRLY BE CALLED PECUNIARY STRENGTH. IT IS TRACEABLE BACK TO THE INITIAL PHASE OF PREDATORY CULTURE AND THERE IS EVEN A SUGGESTION THAT AN INCIPIENT DIFFERENTIATION IN THIS RESPECT LIES BACK OF THE BEGINNINGS OF THE PREDATORY LIFE. THIS MOST PRIMITIVE DIFFERENTIATION IN THE CONSUMPTION OF GOODS IS LIKE THE LATER DIFFERENTIATION WITH WHICH WE ARE ALL SO INTIMATELY FAMILIAR IN THAT IT IS LARGELY OF A CEREMONIAL CHARACTER BUT UNLIKE THE LATTER IT DOES NOT REST ON A DIFFERENCE IN ACCUMULATED WEALTH. THE UTILITY OF CONSUMPTION AS AN EVIDENCE OF WEALTH IS TO BE CLASSED AS A DERIVATIVE GROWTH. IT IS AN ADAPTION TO A NEW END BY A SELECTIVE PROCESS OF A DISTINCTION PREVIOUSLY EXISTING AND WELL ESTABLISHED IN MEN'S HABITS OF THOUGHT. IN THE EARLIER PHASES OF THE PREDATORY CULTURE THE ONLY ECONOMIC DIFFERENTIATION IS A BROAD DISTINCTION BETWEEN AN HONOURABLE SUPERIOR CLASS MADE UP OF THE ABLE BODIED MEN ON THE ONE SIDE AND A BASE INFERIOR CLASS OF LABOURING WOMEN ON THE OTHER. ACCORDING TO THE IDEAL SCHEME OF LIFE IN FORCE AT THE TIME IT IS THE OFFICE OF THE MEN TO CONSUME WHAT THE WOMEN PRODUCE. SUCH CONSUMPTION AS FALLS TO THE WOMEN IS MERELY INCIDENTAL TO THEIR WORK IT IS A MEANS TO THEIR CONTINUED LABOUR AND NOT A CONSUMPTION DIRECTED TO THEIR OWN COMFORT AND FULNESS OF LIFE. UNPRODUCTIVE CONSUMPTION OF GOODS IS HONOURABLE PRIMARILY AS A MARK OF PROWESS AND A PERQUISITE OF HUMAN DIGNITY SECONDARILY IT BECOMES SUBSTANTIALLY HONOURABLE TO ITSELF ESPECIALLY THE CONSUMPTION OF THE MORE DESIRABLE THINGS. THE CONSUMPTION OF CHOICE ARTICLES OF FOOD AND FREQUENTLY ALSO OF RARE ARTICLES OF ADORNMENT BECOMES TABU TO THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN AND IF THERE IS A BASE SERVILE CLASS OF MEN THE TABU HOLDS ALSO FOR THEM. WITH A FURTHER ADVANCE IN CULTURE THIS TABU MAY CHANGE INTO SIMPLE CUSTOM OF A MORE OR LESS RIGOROUS CHARACTER BUT WHATEVER BE THE THEORETICAL BASIS OF THE DISTINCTION WHICH IS MAINTAINED WHETHER IT BE A TABU OR A LARGER CONVENTIONALITY THE FEATURES OF THE CONVENTIONAL SCHEME OF CONSUMPTION DO NOT CHANGE EASILY. IN THE NATURE OF THINGS LUXURIES AND THE COMFORTS OF LIFE BELONG TO THE LEISURE CLASS. UNDER THE TABU CERTAIN VICTUALS AND MORE PARTICULARLY CERTAIN BEVERAGES ARE STRICTLY RESERVED FOR THE USE OF THE SUPERIOR CLASS. THE CEREMONIAL DIFFERENTIATION OF THE DIETARY IS BEST SEEN IN THE USE OF INTOXICATING BEVERAGES AND NARCOTICS. IF THESE ARTICLES OF CONSUMPTION ARE COSTLY THEY ARE FELT TO BE NOBLE AND HONORIFIC. THEREFORE THE BASE CLASSES PRIMARILY THE WOMEN PRACTICE AN ENFORCED CONTINENCE WITH RESPECT TO THESE STIMULANTS EXCEPT IN COUNTRIES WHERE THEY ARE OBTAINABLE AT A VERY LOW COST. FROM ARCHAIC TIMES DOWN THROUGH ALL THE LENGTH OF THE PATRIARCHAL REGIME IT HAS BEEN THE OFFICE OF THE WOMEN TO PREPARE AND ADMINISTER THESE LUXURIES AND IT HAS BEEN THE PERQUISITE OF THE MEN OF GENTLE BIRTH AND BREEDING TO CONSUME THEM. DRUNKENNESS AND THE OTHER PATHOLOGICAL CONSEQUENCES OF THE FREE USE OF STIMULANTS THEREFORE TEND IN THEIR TURN TO BECOME HONORIFIC AS BEING A MARK AT THE SECOND REMOVE OF THE SUPERIOR STATUS OF THOSE WHO ARE ABLE TO AFFORD THE INDULGENCE" }, { "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "chapter": "5695", "sourceFile": "test-clean/3570/5695/5695_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "31d823c63e53e2babf7a08518021def74c56dab897f368760cd2f32e5873d8f1", "seconds": 235.49, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 31.0, 31.4, 30.8, 30.6, 30.7, 30.6, 82.3, 29.0, 32.2, 39.9, 30.8, 31.9, 29.9, 31.0, 31.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "IN A GENERAL WAY THOUGH NOT WHOLLY NOR CONSISTENTLY THESE TWO GROUPS COINCIDE. THE DEPENDENT WHO WAS FIRST DELEGATED FOR THESE DUTIES WAS THE WIFE OR THE CHIEF WIFE AND AS WOULD BE EXPECTED IN THE LATER DEVELOPMENT OF THE INSTITUTION WHEN THE NUMBER OF PERSONS BY WHOM THESE DUTIES ARE CUSTOMARILY PERFORMED GRADUALLY NARROWS THE WIFE REMAINS THE LAST. BUT AS WE DESCEND THE SOCIAL SCALE THE POINT IS PRESENTLY REACHED WHERE THE DUTIES OF VICARIOUS LEISURE AND CONSUMPTION DEVOLVE UPON THE WIFE ALONE. IN THE COMMUNITIES OF THE WESTERN CULTURE THIS POINT IS AT PRESENT FOUND AMONG THE LOWER MIDDLE CLASS. AND HERE OCCURS A CURIOUS INVERSION. IT IS A FACT OF COMMON OBSERVANCE THAT IN THIS LOWER MIDDLE CLASS THERE IS NO PRETENSE OF LEISURE ON THE PART OF THE HEAD OF THE HOUSEHOLD. THROUGH FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES IT HAS FALLEN INTO DISUSE. BUT THE MIDDLE CLASS WIFE STILL CARRIES ON THE BUSINESS OF VICARIOUS LEISURE FOR THE GOOD NAME OF THE HOUSEHOLD AND ITS MASTER. IN DESCENDING THE SOCIAL SCALE IN ANY MODERN INDUSTRIAL COMMUNITY THE PRIMARY FACT THE CONSPICUOUS LEISURE OF THE MASTER OF THE HOUSEHOLD DISAPPEARS AT A RELATIVELY HIGH POINT. THE HEAD OF THE MIDDLE CLASS HOUSEHOLD HAS BEEN REDUCED BY ECONOMIC CIRCUMSTANCES TO TURN HIS HAND TO GAINING A LIVELIHOOD BY OCCUPATIONS WHICH OFTEN PARTAKE LARGELY OF THE CHARACTER OF INDUSTRY AS IN THE CASE OF THE ORDINARY BUSINESS MAN OF TODAY. BUT THE DERIVATIVE FACT THE VICARIOUS LEISURE AND CONSUMPTION RENDERED BY THE WIFE AND THE AUXILIARY VICARIOUS PERFORMANCE OF LEISURE BY MENIALS REMAINS IN VOGUE AS A CONVENTIONALITY WHICH THE DEMANDS OF REPUTABILITY WILL NOT SUFFER TO BE SLIGHTED. IT IS BY NO MEANS AN UNCOMMON SPECTACLE TO FIND A MAN APPLYING HIMSELF TO WORK WITH THE UTMOST ASSIDUITY IN ORDER THAT HIS WIFE MAY IN DUE FORM RENDER FOR HIM THAT DEGREE OF VICARIOUS LEISURE WHICH THE COMMON SENSE OF THE TIME DEMANDS. THE LEISURE RENDERED BY THE WIFE IN SUCH CASES IS OF COURSE NOT A SIMPLE MANIFESTATION OF IDLENESS OR INDOLENCE. IT ALMOST INVARIABLY OCCURS DISGUISED UNDER SOME FORM OF WORK OR HOUSEHOLD DUTIES OR SOCIAL AMENITIES WHICH PROVE ON ANALYSIS TO SERVE LITTLE OR NO ULTERIOR END BEYOND SHOWING THAT SHE DOES NOT OCCUPY HERSELF WITH ANYTHING THAT IS GAINFUL OR THAT IS OF SUBSTANTIAL USE. THE EFFECTS ARE PLEASING TO US CHIEFLY BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN TAUGHT TO FIND THEM PLEASING. PRETTY MUCH ALL THAT IS HERE INSISTED ON IS THAT AS REGARDS THESE AMENITIES OF LIFE THE HOUSEWIFE'S EFFORTS ARE UNDER THE GUIDANCE OF TRADITIONS THAT HAVE BEEN SHAPED BY THE LAW OF CONSPICUOUSLY WASTEFUL EXPENDITURE OF TIME AND SUBSTANCE. IF BEAUTY OR COMFORT IS ACHIEVED AND IT IS A MORE OR LESS FORTUITOUS CIRCUMSTANCE IF THEY ARE THEY MUST BE ACHIEVED BY MEANS AND METHODS THAT COMMEND THEMSELVES TO THE GREAT ECONOMIC LAW OF WASTED EFFORT. THE REQUIREMENT OF VICARIOUS CONSUMPTION AT THE HANDS OF THE WIFE CONTINUES IN FORCE EVEN AT A LOWER POINT IN THE PECUNIARY SCALE THAN THE REQUIREMENT OF VICARIOUS LEISURE. AT A POINT BELOW WHICH LITTLE IF ANY PRETENSE OF WASTED EFFORT IN CEREMONIAL CLEANNESS AND THE LIKE IS OBSERVABLE AND WHERE THERE IS ASSUREDLY NO CONSCIOUS ATTEMPT AT OSTENSIBLE LEISURE DECENCY STILL REQUIRES THE WIFE TO CONSUME SOME GOODS CONSPICUOUSLY FOR THE REPUTABILITY OF THE HOUSEHOLD AND ITS HEAD. SO THAT AS THE LATTER DAY OUTCOME OF THIS EVOLUTION OF AN ARCHAIC INSTITUTION THE WIFE WHO WAS AT THE OUTSET THE DRUDGE AND CHATTEL OF THE MAN BOTH IN FACT AND IN THEORY THE PRODUCER OF GOODS FOR HIM TO CONSUME HAS BECOME THE CEREMONIAL CONSUMER OF GOODS WHICH HE PRODUCES. BUT SHE STILL QUITE UNMISTAKABLY REMAINS HIS CHATTEL IN THEORY FOR THE HABITUAL RENDERING OF VICARIOUS LEISURE AND CONSUMPTION IS THE ABIDING MARK OF THE UNFREE SERVANT. THIS VICARIOUS CONSUMPTION PRACTICED BY THE HOUSEHOLD OF THE MIDDLE AND LOWER CLASSES CAN NOT BE COUNTED AS A DIRECT EXPRESSION OF THE LEISURE CLASS SCHEME OF LIFE SINCE THE HOUSEHOLD OF THIS PECUNIARY GRADE DOES NOT BELONG WITHIN THE LEISURE CLASS. IT IS RATHER THAT THE LEISURE CLASS SCHEME OF LIFE HERE COMES TO AN EXPRESSION AT THE SECOND REMOVE. ACCORDINGLY BOTH OF THESE METHODS ARE IN VOGUE AS FAR DOWN THE SCALE AS IT REMAINS POSSIBLE AND IN THE LOWER STRATA IN WHICH THE TWO METHODS ARE EMPLOYED BOTH OFFICES ARE IN GREAT PART DELEGATED TO THE WIFE AND CHILDREN OF THE HOUSEHOLD" }, { "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "chapter": "5696", "sourceFile": "test-clean/3570/5696/5696_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "10139bbb561b0f290210c894fdf9391edcbdad012ae59437c73a0c50997fb60a", "seconds": 229.83, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.1, 29.7, 38.6, 159.2, 67.8, 159.2, 34.0, 159.2, 31.4, 35.0, 159.2, 159.2, 159.2, 32.9, 33.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "UNDER THE SIMPLE TEST OF EFFECTIVENESS FOR ADVERTISING WE SHOULD EXPECT TO FIND LEISURE AND THE CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION OF GOODS DIVIDING THE FIELD OF PECUNIARY EMULATION PRETTY EVENLY BETWEEN THEM AT THE OUTSET. LEISURE MIGHT THEN BE EXPECTED GRADUALLY TO YIELD GROUND AND TEND TO OBSOLESCENCE AS THE ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT GOES FORWARD AND THE COMMUNITY INCREASES IN SIZE WHILE THE CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION OF GOODS SHOULD GRADUALLY GAIN IN IMPORTANCE BOTH ABSOLUTELY AND RELATIVELY UNTIL IT HAD ABSORBED ALL THE AVAILABLE PRODUCT LEAVING NOTHING OVER BEYOND A BARE LIVELIHOOD. BUT THE ACTUAL COURSE OF DEVELOPMENT HAS BEEN SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT FROM THIS IDEAL SCHEME LEISURE HELD THE FIRST PLACE AT THE START AND CAME TO HOLD A RANK VERY MUCH ABOVE WASTEFUL CONSUMPTION OF GOODS BOTH AS A DIRECT EXPONENT OF WEALTH AND AS AN ELEMENT IN THE STANDARD OF DECENCY DURING THE QUASI PEACEABLE CULTURE. FROM THAT POINT ONWARD CONSUMPTION HAS GAINED GROUND UNTIL AT PRESENT IT UNQUESTIONABLY HOLDS THE PRIMACY THOUGH IT IS STILL FAR FROM ABSORBING THE ENTIRE MARGIN OF PRODUCTION ABOVE THE SUBSISTENCE MINIMUM. THE EARLY ASCENDENCY OF LEISURE AS A MEANS OF REPUTABILITY IS TRACEABLE TO THE ARCHAIC DISTINCTION BETWEEN NOBLE AND IGNOBLE EMPLOYMENTS. LEISURE IS HONORABLE AND BECOMES IMPERATIVE PARTLY BECAUSE IT SHOWS EXEMPTION FROM IGNOBLE LABOR. THE ARCHAIC DIFFERENTIATION INTO NOBLE AND IGNOBLE CLASSES IS BASED ON AN INVIDIOUS DISTINCTION BETWEEN EMPLOYMENTS AS HONORIFIC OR DEBASING AND THIS TRADITIONAL DISTINCTION GROWS INTO AN IMPERATIVE CANON OF DECENCY DURING THE EARLY QUASI PEACEABLE STAGE. THIS ALIEN FACTOR IS THE INSTINCT OF WORKMANSHIP. OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES PERMITTING THAT INSTINCT DISPOSES MEN TO LOOK WITH FAVOR UPON PRODUCTIVE EFFICIENCY AND ON WHATEVER IS OF HUMAN USE. IT DISPOSES THEM TO DEPRECATE WASTE OF SUBSTANCE OR EFFORT. THE INSTINCT OF WORKMANSHIP IS PRESENT IN ALL MEN AND ASSERTS ITSELF EVEN UNDER VERY ADVERSE CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS ONLY LESS PROMPTLY AND WITH LESS CONSTRAINING FORCE THAT IT REACHES SUCH SUBSTANTIAL VIOLATIONS OF ITS REQUIREMENTS AS ARE APPRECIATED ONLY UPON REFLECTION. SO LONG AS ALL LABOR CONTINUES TO BE PERFORMED EXCLUSIVELY OR USUALLY BY SLAVES THE BASENESS OF ALL PRODUCTIVE EFFORT IS TOO CONSTANTLY AND DETERRENTLY PRESENT IN THE MIND OF MEN TO ALLOW THE INSTINCT OF WORKMANSHIP SERIOUSLY TO TAKE EFFECT IN THE DIRECTION OF INDUSTRIAL USEFULNESS BUT WHEN THE QUASI PEACEABLE STAGE WITH SLAVERY AND STATUS PASSES INTO THE PEACEABLE STAGE OF INDUSTRY WITH WAGE LABOR AND CASH PAYMENT THE INSTINCT COMES MORE EFFECTIVELY INTO PLAY IT THEN BEGINS AGGRESSIVELY TO SHAPE MEN'S VIEWS OF WHAT IS MERITORIOUS AND ASSERTS ITSELF AT LEAST AS AN AUXILIARY CANON OF SELF COMPLACENCY. BUT THE FACT THAT IT MAY UNDER STRESS OF CIRCUMSTANCES EVENTUATE IN INANITIES NO MORE DISPROVES THE PRESENCE OF THE INSTINCT THAN THE REALITY OF THE BROODING INSTINCT IS DISPROVED BY INDUCING A HEN TO SIT ON A NESTFUL OF CHINA EGGS. THIS LATTER DAY UNEASY REACHING OUT FOR SOME FORM OF PURPOSEFUL ACTIVITY THAT SHALL AT THE SAME TIME NOT BE INDECOROUSLY PRODUCTIVE OF EITHER INDIVIDUAL OR COLLECTIVE GAIN MARKS A DIFFERENCE OF ATTITUDE BETWEEN THE MODERN LEISURE CLASS AND THAT OF THE QUASI PEACEABLE STAGE. AT THE EARLIER STAGE AS WAS SAID ABOVE THE ALL DOMINATING INSTITUTION OF SLAVERY AND STATUS ACTED RESISTLESSLY TO DISCOUNTENANCE EXERTION DIRECTED TO OTHER THAN NAIVELY PREDATORY ENDS. THE LINE OF LEAST RESISTANCE HAS CHANGED IN SOME MEASURE AND THE ENERGY WHICH FORMERLY FOUND A VENT IN PREDATORY ACTIVITY NOW IN PART TAKES THE DIRECTION OF SOME OSTENSIBLY USEFUL END. OSTENSIBLY PURPOSELESS LEISURE HAS COME TO BE DEPRECATED ESPECIALLY AMONG THAT LARGE PORTION OF THE LEISURE CLASS WHOSE PLEBEIAN ORIGIN ACTS TO SET THEM AT VARIANCE WITH THE TRADITION OF THE OTIUM CUM DIGNITATE BUT THAT CANON OF REPUTABILITY WHICH DISCOUNTENANCES ALL EMPLOYMENT THAT IS OF THE NATURE OF PRODUCTIVE EFFORT IS STILL AT HAND AND WILL PERMIT NOTHING BEYOND THE MOST TRANSIENT VOGUE TO ANY EMPLOYMENT THAT IS SUBSTANTIALLY USEFUL OR PRODUCTIVE. THE CONSEQUENCE IS THAT A CHANGE HAS BEEN WROUGHT IN THE CONSPICUOUS LEISURE PRACTICED BY THE LEISURE CLASS NOT SO MUCH IN SUBSTANCE AS IN FORM" }, { "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "chapter": "170457", "sourceFile": "test-clean/3575/170457/170457_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "33d8aa99338ecc33d324121bbf6326863c20d94ad6d01fc69ce206d8ed1b68c3", "seconds": 238.26, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 33.8, 45.1, 39.0, 35.3, 41.4, 36.8, 42.7, 38.1, 39.1, 42.1, 42.9, 43.4, 43.7, 36.9, 41.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE POETRY ENCLOSED SEEMS TO ME BY NO MEANS EQUAL TO PARTS OF THE LETTER BUT AS EVERY ONE LIKES TO JUDGE FOR HIMSELF I COPY THE SIX OPENING STANZAS ABOUT A THIRD OF THE WHOLE AND CERTAINLY NOT THE WORST. SO WHERE HE REIGNS IN GLORY BRIGHT ABOVE THOSE STARRY SKIES OF NIGHT AMID HIS PARADISE OF LIGHT OH WHY MAY I NOT BE. AND OFTEN HAS MY MOTHER SAID WHILE ON HER LAP I LAID MY HEAD SHE FEARED FOR TIME I WAS NOT MADE BUT FOR ETERNITY. SO I CAN READ MY TITLE CLEAR TO MANSIONS IN THE SKIES AND LET ME BID FAREWELL TO FEAR AND WIPE MY WEEPING EYES. SOON AFTER CHARLOTTE RETURNED TO DEWSBURY MOOR SHE WAS DISTRESSED BY HEARING THAT HER FRIEND E WAS LIKELY TO LEAVE THE NEIGHBOURHOOD FOR A CONSIDERABLE LENGTH OF TIME FEBRUARY TWENTIETH. WHAT SHALL I DO WITHOUT YOU. HOW LONG ARE WE LIKELY TO BE SEPARATED. WHY ARE WE TO BE DENIED EACH OTHER'S SOCIETY. IT IS AN INSCRUTABLE FATALITY. YOU FIRST POINTED OUT TO ME THAT WAY IN WHICH I AM SO FEEBLY ENDEAVOURING TO TRAVEL AND NOW I CANNOT KEEP YOU BY MY SIDE I MUST PROCEED SORROWFULLY ALONE. WHY ARE WE TO BE DIVIDED. SURELY IT MUST BE BECAUSE WE ARE IN DANGER OF LOVING EACH OTHER TOO WELL OF LOSING SIGHT OF THE CREATOR IN IDOLATRY OF THE CREATURE. AT FIRST I COULD NOT SAY THY WILL BE DONE. I FELT REBELLIOUS BUT I KNEW IT WAS WRONG TO FEEL SO. BEING LEFT A MOMENT ALONE THIS MORNING I PRAYED FERVENTLY TO BE ENABLED TO RESIGN MYSELF TO EVERY DECREE OF GOD'S WILL THOUGH IT SHOULD BE DEALT FORTH BY A FAR SEVERER HAND THAN THE PRESENT DISAPPOINTMENT SINCE THEN I HAVE FELT CALMER AND HUMBLER AND CONSEQUENTLY HAPPIER. LAST SUNDAY I TOOK UP MY BIBLE IN A GLOOMY STATE OF MIND I BEGAN TO READ A FEELING STOLE OVER ME SUCH AS I HAVE NOT KNOWN FOR MANY LONG YEARS A SWEET PLACID SENSATION LIKE THOSE I REMEMBER WHICH USED TO VISIT ME WHEN I WAS A LITTLE CHILD AND ON SUNDAY EVENINGS IN SUMMER STOOD BY THE OPEN WINDOW READING THE LIFE OF A CERTAIN FRENCH NOBLEMAN WHO ATTAINED A PURER AND HIGHER DEGREE OF SANCTITY THAN HAS BEEN KNOWN SINCE THE DAYS OF THE EARLY MARTYRS. WE USED TO DISPUTE ABOUT POLITICS AND RELIGION. SHE A TORY AND CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER WAS ALWAYS IN A MINORITY OF ONE IN OUR HOUSE OF VIOLENT DISSENT AND RADICALISM. HER FEEBLE HEALTH GAVE HER HER YIELDING MANNER FOR SHE COULD NEVER OPPOSE ANY ONE WITHOUT GATHERING UP ALL HER STRENGTH FOR THE STRUGGLE. THUS SHE WOULD LET ME ADVISE AND PATRONISE MOST IMPERIOUSLY SOMETIMES PICKING OUT ANY GRAIN OF SENSE THERE MIGHT BE IN WHAT I SAID BUT NEVER ALLOWING ANY ONE MATERIALLY TO INTERFERE WITH HER INDEPENDENCE OF THOUGHT AND ACTION. MARY'S FATHER WAS A MAN OF REMARKABLE INTELLIGENCE BUT OF STRONG NOT TO SAY VIOLENT PREJUDICES ALL RUNNING IN FAVOUR OF REPUBLICANISM AND DISSENT. NO OTHER COUNTY BUT YORKSHIRE COULD HAVE PRODUCED SUCH A MAN. HIS BROTHER HAD BEEN A DETENU IN FRANCE AND HAD AFTERWARDS VOLUNTARILY TAKEN UP HIS RESIDENCE THERE. MISTER T HIMSELF HAD BEEN MUCH ABROAD BOTH ON BUSINESS AND TO SEE THE GREAT CONTINENTAL GALLERIES OF PAINTINGS. HE SPOKE FRENCH PERFECTLY I HAVE BEEN TOLD WHEN NEED WAS BUT DELIGHTED USUALLY IN TALKING THE BROADEST YORKSHIRE. HE BOUGHT SPLENDID ENGRAVINGS OF THE PICTURES WHICH HE PARTICULARLY ADMIRED AND HIS HOUSE WAS FULL OF WORKS OF ART AND OF BOOKS BUT HE RATHER LIKED TO PRESENT HIS ROUGH SIDE TO ANY STRANGER OR NEW COMER HE WOULD SPEAK HIS BROADEST BRING OUT HIS OPINIONS ON CHURCH AND STATE IN THEIR MOST STARTLING FORMS AND BY AND BY IF HE FOUND HIS HEARER COULD STAND THE SHOCK HE WOULD INVOLUNTARILY SHOW HIS WARM KIND HEART AND HIS TRUE TASTE AND REAL REFINEMENT. THEY ARE SCATTERED FAR AND WIDE MARTHA THE YOUNGER DAUGHTER SLEEPS IN THE PROTESTANT CEMETERY AT BRUSSELS MARY IS IN NEW ZEALAND MISTER T IS DEAD" }, { "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "chapter": "6852", "sourceFile": "test-clean/3729/6852/6852_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "3242899356c431049499cd666aab75c37acb92fe82bc20024159a9892e385812", "seconds": 231.63, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 36.5, 34.3, 35.9, 36.4, 36.6, 36.0, 36.1, 36.0, 37.0, 37.4, 37.0, 37.1, 36.2, 36.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "MY APPRENTICESHIP IN PARIS PORTRAITS ODDITIES ALL SORTS OF THINGS. TO CELEBRATE THE ARRIVAL OF HER SON SILVIA GAVE A SPLENDID SUPPER TO WHICH SHE HAD INVITED ALL HER RELATIVES AND IT WAS A GOOD OPPORTUNITY FOR ME TO MAKE THEIR ACQUAINTANCE. BALETTI'S FATHER WHO HAD JUST RECOVERED FROM A LONG ILLNESS WAS NOT WITH US BUT WE HAD HIS FATHER'S SISTER WHO WAS OLDER THAN MARIO. SHE WAS KNOWN UNDER HER THEATRICAL NAME OF FLAMINIA IN THE LITERARY WORLD BY SEVERAL TRANSLATIONS BUT I HAD A GREAT WISH TO MAKE HER ACQUAINTANCE LESS ON THAT ACCOUNT THAN IN CONSEQUENCE OF THE STORY KNOWN THROUGHOUT ITALY OF THE STAY THAT THREE LITERARY MEN OF GREAT FAME HAD MADE IN PARIS. I HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED TO FLAMINIA AS A CANDIDATE FOR LITERARY FAME AND SHE THOUGHT SHE HONOURED ME BY ADDRESSING ME AT ALL BUT SHE WAS WRONG FOR SHE DISPLEASED ME GREATLY BY HER FACE HER MANNERS HER STYLE EVEN BY THE SOUND OF HER VOICE. WITHOUT SAYING IT POSITIVELY SHE MADE ME UNDERSTAND THAT BEING HERSELF AN ILLUSTRIOUS MEMBER OF THE REPUBLIC OF LETTERS SHE WAS WELL AWARE THAT SHE WAS SPEAKING TO AN INSECT. IN ORDER TO PLEASE HER I SPOKE TO HER OF THE ABBE CONTI AND I HAD OCCASION TO QUOTE TWO LINES OF THAT PROFOUND WRITER. MADAM CORRECTED ME WITH A PATRONIZING AIR FOR MY PRONUNCIATION OF THE WORD SCEVRA WHICH MEANS DIVIDED SAYING THAT IT OUGHT TO BE PRONOUNCED SCEURA AND SHE ADDED THAT I OUGHT TO BE VERY GLAD TO HAVE LEARNED SO MUCH ON THE FIRST DAY OF MY ARRIVAL IN PARIS TELLING ME THAT IT WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT DAY IN MY LIFE. SHE WOULD HAVE KEPT UP THE DISCUSSION BUT HER HUSBAND A MAN EIGHTY YEARS OF AGE TOLD HER THAT SHE WAS WRONG. SHE HELD HER TONGUE BUT FROM THAT TIME SHE TOLD EVERYBODY THAT I WAS AN IMPOSTOR. HER HUSBAND LOUIS RICCOBONI BETTER KNOWN AS LELIO WAS THE SAME WHO HAD BROUGHT THE ITALIAN COMPANY TO PARIS IN SEVENTEEN SIXTEEN AND PLACED IT AT THE SERVICE OF THE REGENT HE WAS A MAN OF GREAT MERIT. HE HAD BEEN VERY HANDSOME AND JUSTLY ENJOYED THE ESTEEM OF THE PUBLIC IN CONSEQUENCE NOT ONLY OF HIS TALENT BUT ALSO OF THE PURITY OF HIS LIFE. SHE WAS THEN ABOUT FIFTY YEARS OLD HER FIGURE WAS ELEGANT HER AIR NOBLE HER MANNERS GRACEFUL AND EASY SHE WAS AFFABLE WITTY KIND TO EVERYBODY SIMPLE AND UNPRETENDING. HER FACE WAS AN ENIGMA FOR IT INSPIRED EVERYONE WITH THE WARMEST SYMPATHY AND YET IF YOU EXAMINED IT ATTENTIVELY THERE WAS NOT ONE BEAUTIFUL FEATURE SHE COULD NOT BE CALLED HANDSOME BUT NO ONE COULD HAVE THOUGHT HER UGLY. YET SHE WAS NOT ONE OF THOSE WOMEN WHO ARE NEITHER HANDSOME NOR UGLY FOR SHE POSSESSED A CERTAIN SOMETHING WHICH STRUCK ONE AT FIRST SIGHT AND CAPTIVATED THE INTEREST. THEN WHAT WAS SHE. BEAUTIFUL CERTAINLY BUT OWING TO CHARMS UNKNOWN TO ALL THOSE WHO NOT BEING ATTRACTED TOWARDS HER BY AN IRRESISTIBLE FEELING WHICH COMPELLED THEM TO LOVE HER HAD NOT THE COURAGE TO STUDY HER OR THE CONSTANCY TO OBTAIN A THOROUGH KNOWLEDGE OF HER. SILVIA WAS THE ADORATION OF FRANCE AND HER TALENT WAS THE REAL SUPPORT OF ALL THE COMEDIES WHICH THE GREATEST AUTHORS WROTE FOR HER ESPECIALLY OF THE PLAYS OF MARIVAUX FOR WITHOUT HER HIS COMEDIES WOULD NEVER HAVE GONE TO POSTERITY. IN SILVIA EVERY QUALITY WAS FROM NATURE AND THE ART WHICH GAVE THE LAST TOUCH OF PERFECTION TO HER QUALITIES WAS NEVER SEEN" }, { "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "chapter": "13751", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4077/13751/13751_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "f76df5241c1f169a9f9af4cd1edf1f2033a240d421a83fbbd3313e87e4d00d9a", "seconds": 235.58, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 25.5, 24.7, 22.5, 22.2, 24.1, 23.1, 27.1, 23.0, 24.6, 23.6, 25.8, 23.1, 26.4, 24.2, 29.9, 24.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 11, "reference": "ON THE SIXTH OF APRIL EIGHTEEN THIRTY THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER DAY SAINTS WAS FORMALLY ORGANIZED AND THUS TOOK ON A LEGAL EXISTENCE. AT THAT TIME THERE MAY HAVE BEEN AND PROBABLY WERE MANY TIMES THAT NUMBER WHO HAD PROFESSED ADHERENCE TO THE NEWLY RESTORED FAITH BUT AS THE REQUIREMENTS OF THE LAW GOVERNING THE FORMATION OF RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES WERE SATISFIED BY THE APPLICATION OF SIX ONLY THE SPECIFIED NUMBER FORMALLY TOOK PART. SUCH WAS THE BEGINNING OF THE CHURCH SOON TO BE SO UNIVERSALLY MALIGNED. ITS ORIGIN WAS SMALL A GERM AN INSIGNIFICANT SEED HARDLY TO BE THOUGHT OF AS LIKELY TO AROUSE OPPOSITION. WHAT WAS THERE TO FEAR IN THE VOLUNTARY ASSOCIATION OF SIX MEN AVOWEDLY DEVOTED TO PEACEFUL PURSUITS AND BENEVOLENT PURPOSES. AT FIRST BUT A FAMILY AFFAIR OPPOSITION TO THE WORK HAS INVOLVED SUCCESSIVELY THE TOWN THE COUNTY THE STATE THE COUNTRY AND TODAY THE MORMON QUESTION HAS BEEN ACCORDED EXTENDED CONSIDERATION AT THE HANDS OF THE NATIONAL GOVERNMENT AND INDEED MOST CIVILIZED NATIONS HAVE TAKEN COGNIZANCE OF THE SAME. LET US OBSERVE THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THE BEGINNING AND THE PRESENT PROPORTIONS OF THE CHURCH. INSTEAD OF BUT SIX REGULARLY AFFILIATED MEMBERS AND AT MOST TWO SCORE OF ADHERENTS THE ORGANIZATION NUMBERS TODAY MANY HUNDRED THOUSAND SOULS. IN PLACE OF A SINGLE HAMLET IN THE SMALLEST CORNER OF WHICH THE MEMBERS COULD HAVE CONGREGATED THERE NOW ARE ABOUT SEVENTY STAKES OF ZION AND ABOUT SEVEN HUNDRED ORGANIZED WARDS EACH WARD AND STAKE WITH ITS FULL COMPLEMENT OF OFFICERS AND PRIESTHOOD ORGANIZATIONS. THE PRACTISE OF GATHERING ITS PROSELYTES INTO ONE PLACE PREVENTS THE BUILDING UP AND STRENGTHENING OF FOREIGN BRANCHES AND INASMUCH AS EXTENSIVE AND STRONG ORGANIZATIONS ARE SELDOM MET WITH ABROAD VERY ERRONEOUS IDEAS EXIST CONCERNING THE STRENGTH OF THE CHURCH. NEVERTHELESS THE MUSTARD SEED AMONG THE SMALLEST OF ALL SEEDS HAS ATTAINED THE PROPORTIONS OF A TREE AND THE BIRDS OF THE AIR ARE NESTING IN ITS BRANCHES THE ACORN IS NOW AN OAK OFFERING PROTECTION AND THE SWEETS OF SATISFACTION TO EVERY EARNEST PILGRIM JOURNEYING ITS WAY FOR TRUTH. FROM THE ORGANIZATION OF THE CHURCH THE SPIRIT OF EMIGRATION RESTED UPON THE PEOPLE. THEIR EYES WERE FROM THE FIRST TURNED IN ANTICIPATION TOWARD THE EVENING SUN NOT MERELY THAT THE WORK OF PROSELYTING SHOULD BE CARRIED ON IN THE WEST BUT THAT THE HEADQUARTERS OF THE CHURCH SHOULD BE THERE ESTABLISHED. THE BOOK OF MORMON HAD TAUGHT THE PEOPLE THE TRUE ORIGIN AND DESTINY OF THE AMERICAN INDIANS AND TOWARD THIS DARK SKINNED REMNANT OF A ONCE MIGHTY PEOPLE THE MISSIONARIES OF MORMONISM EARLY TURNED THEIR EYES AND WITH THEIR EYES WENT THEIR HEARTS AND THEIR HOPES. WITHIN THREE MONTHS FROM THE BEGINNING THE CHURCH HAD MISSIONARIES AMONG THE LAMANITES. IT IS NOTABLE THAT THE INDIAN TRIBES HAVE GENERALLY REGARDED THE RELIGION OF THE LATTER DAY SAINTS WITH FAVOR SEEING IN THE BOOK OF MORMON STRIKING AGREEMENT WITH THEIR OWN TRADITIONS. THE FIRST WELL ESTABLISHED SEAT OF THE CHURCH WAS IN THE PRETTY LITTLE TOWN OF KIRTLAND OHIO ALMOST WITHIN SIGHT OF LAKE ERIE AND HERE SOON ROSE THE FIRST TEMPLE OF MODERN TIMES. AMONG THEIR MANY OTHER PECULIARITIES THE LATTER DAY SAINTS ARE CHARACTERIZED AS A TEMPLE BUILDING PEOPLE AS HISTORY PROVES THE ISRAEL OF ANCIENT TIMES TO HAVE BEEN. IN THE DAYS OF THEIR INFANCY AS A CHURCH WHILE IN THE THRALL OF POVERTY AND AMIDST THE PERSECUTION AND DIREFUL THREATS OF LAWLESS HORDES THEY LAID THE CORNERSTONE AND IN LESS THAN THREE YEARS THEREAFTER THEY CELEBRATED THE DEDICATION OF THE KIRTLAND TEMPLE A STRUCTURE AT ONCE BEAUTIFUL AND IMPOSING" }, { "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "chapter": "13754", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4077/13754/13754_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "7d465edef9f3bf1ed29192eba0a38355d20c1ce6738df7b16a4b1338f7b1919b", "seconds": 223.61, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 37.4, 34.0, 37.3, 40.4, 35.4, 32.2, 37.3, 35.3, 36.9, 34.1, 39.3, 36.9, 39.4, 35.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE TROOPS ONCE IN UTAH HAD TO BE PROVISIONED AND EVERYTHING THE SETTLERS COULD SPARE WAS EAGERLY BOUGHT AT AN UNUSUAL PRICE. THE GOLD CHANGED HANDS. THEN IN THEIR HASTY DEPARTURE THE SOLDIERS DISPOSED OF EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OF ACTUAL NECESSITIES IN THE WAY OF ACCOUTERMENT AND CAMP EQUIPAGE. THE ARMY FOUND THE PEOPLE IN POVERTY AND LEFT THEM IN COMPARATIVE WEALTH. AND WHAT WAS THE CAUSE OF THIS HURRIED DEPARTURE OF THE MILITARY FOR MANY MONTHS OMINOUS RUMBLINGS HAD BEEN HEARD INDICATIONS OF THE GATHERING STORM WHICH WAS SOON TO BREAK IN THE AWFUL FURY OF CIVIL STRIFE. IT COULD NOT BE DOUBTED THAT WAR WAS IMMINENT ALREADY THE CONFLICT HAD BEGUN AND A PICKED PART OF THE ARMY WAS AWAY IN THE WESTERN WILDS DOING NOTHING FOR ANY PHASE OF THE PUBLIC GOOD. BUT A WORD FURTHER CONCERNING THE EXPEDITION IN GENERAL. THE SENDING OF TROOPS TO UTAH WAS PART OF A FOUL SCHEME TO WEAKEN THE GOVERNMENT IN ITS IMPENDING STRUGGLE WITH THE SECESSIONISTS. HE WAS UNJUSTLY CHARGED WITH FAVORING SECESSION BUT THE CHARGE WAS SOON DISPROVED. THE SUCCESSFUL EFFORTS OF THIS OFFICER TO DISARM THE NORTH WHILE ACCUMULATING THE MUNITIONS OF WAR IN THE SOUTH TO SCATTER THE FORCES BY LOCATING THEM IN WIDELY SEPARATED AND REMOTE STATIONS AND IN OTHER WAYS TO DISPOSE OF THE REGULAR ARMY IN THE MANNER BEST CALCULATED TO FAVOR THE ANTICIPATED REBELLION ARE MATTERS OF HISTORY. IT IS ALSO TOLD HOW AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REBELLION HE ALLIED HIMSELF WITH THE CONFEDERATE FORCES ACCEPTING THE RANK OF BRIGADIER GENERAL. IT WAS THROUGH FLOYD'S ADVICE THAT BUCHANAN ORDERED THE MILITARY EXPEDITION TO UTAH OSTENSIBLY TO INSTALL CERTAIN FEDERAL OFFICIALS AND TO REPRESS AN ALLEGED INFANTILE REBELLION WHICH IN FACT HAD NEVER COME INTO EXISTENCE BUT IN REALITY TO FURTHER THE INTERESTS OF THE SECESSIONISTS. WHEN THE HISTORY OF THAT GREAT STRUGGLE WITH ITS ANTECEDENT AND ITS CONSEQUENT CIRCUMSTANCES IS WRITTEN WITH A PEN THAT SHALL INDITE NAUGHT BUT TRUTH WHEN PREJUDICE AND PARTISANSHIP ARE LIVED DOWN IT MAY APPEAR THAT JEFFERSON DAVIS RATHER THAN JAMES BUCHANAN WAS THE PRIME CAUSE OF THE GREAT MISTAKE. HE LEFT UTAH IN THE EARLY STAGES OF THE REBELLION TURNED HIS ARMS AGAINST THE FLAG HE HAD SWORN TO DEFEND DOFFED THE BLUE DONNED THE GREY AND FELL A REBEL ON THE FIELD OF SHILOH. CHANGES MANY AND GREAT FOLLOWED IN BEWILDERING SUCCESSION IN UTAH. THE PEOPLE WERE BESOUGHT TO TAKE SIDES WITH THE SOUTH IN THE AWFUL SCENES OF CRUEL STRIFE IT WAS OPENLY STATED IN THE EAST THAT UTAH HAD ALLIED HERSELF WITH THE CAUSE OF SECESSION AND BY OTHERS THAT THE DESIGN WAS TO MAKE SALT LAKE CITY THE CAPITAL OF AN INDEPENDENT GOVERNMENT. AND SURELY SUCH CONJECTURES WERE PARDONABLE ON THE PART OF ALL WHOSE IGNORANCE AND PREJUDICE STILL NURSED THE DELUSION OF MORMON DISLOYALTY. MOREOVER HAD THE PEOPLE BEEN INCLINED TO REBELLION WHAT GREATER OPPORTUNITY COULD THEY HAVE WISHED. ALREADY A NORTH AND A SOUTH WERE TALKED OF WHY NOT SET UP ALSO A WEST. A SUPREME OPPORTUNITY HAD COME AND HOW WAS IT USED. IT WAS AT THIS VERY TIME THAT THE OVERLAND TELEGRAPH LINE WHICH HAD BEEN APPROACHING FROM THE ATLANTIC AND THE PACIFIC WAS COMPLETED AND THE FIRST TREMOR FELT IN THAT NERVE OF STEEL CARRIED THESE WORDS FROM BRIGHAM YOUNG. UTAH HAS NOT SECEDED BUT IS FIRM FOR THE CONSTITUTION AND LAWS OF OUR COUNTRY THE MORMON PEOPLE SAW IN THEIR TERRIBLE EXPERIENCES AND IN THE OUTRAGES TO WHICH THEY HAD BEEN SUBJECTED ONLY THE MAL ADMINISTRATION OF LAWS AND THE SUBVERSION OF JUSTICE THROUGH HUMAN INCAPACITY AND HATRED. NEVER EVEN FOR A MOMENT DID THEY QUESTION THE SUPREME AUTHORITY AND THE INSPIRED ORIGIN OF THE CONSTITUTION OF THEIR LAND" }, { "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "chapter": "2271", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4446/2271/2271_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "ad1026b31c43cf03fe71f392d8bab21bada1eb68e6248722492b2677e5680048", "seconds": 238.21, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 48.1, 48.2, 48.4, 47.4, 47.3, 48.5, 48.3, 48.4, 48.5, 47.1, 47.7, 48.6, 49.3, 48.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE NEPHEW OF ONE OF THE STANDARD VICTORIAN NOVELISTS MAINHALL BOBBED ABOUT AMONG THE VARIOUS LITERARY CLIQUES OF LONDON AND ITS OUTLYING SUBURBS CAREFUL TO LOSE TOUCH WITH NONE OF THEM. HE HAD WRITTEN A NUMBER OF BOOKS HIMSELF AMONG THEM A HISTORY OF DANCING A HISTORY OF COSTUME A KEY TO SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS A STUDY OF THE POETRY OF ERNEST DOWSON ET CETERA. ALTHOUGH MAINHALL'S ENTHUSIASM WAS OFTEN TIRESOME AND ALTHOUGH HE WAS OFTEN UNABLE TO DISTINGUISH BETWEEN FACTS AND VIVID FIGMENTS OF HIS IMAGINATION HIS IMPERTURBABLE GOOD NATURE OVERCAME EVEN THE PEOPLE WHOM HE BORED MOST SO THAT THEY ENDED BY BECOMING IN A RELUCTANT MANNER HIS FRIENDS. IN APPEARANCE MAINHALL WAS ASTONISHINGLY LIKE THE CONVENTIONAL STAGE ENGLISHMAN OF AMERICAN DRAMA TALL AND THIN WITH HIGH HITCHING SHOULDERS AND A SMALL HEAD GLISTENING WITH CLOSELY BRUSHED YELLOW HAIR. MAINHALL LIKED ALEXANDER BECAUSE HE WAS AN ENGINEER. HE HAD PRECONCEIVED IDEAS ABOUT EVERYTHING AND HIS IDEA ABOUT AMERICANS WAS THAT THEY SHOULD BE ENGINEERS OR MECHANICS. HE HATED THEM WHEN THEY PRESUMED TO BE ANYTHING ELSE. IT'S TREMENDOUSLY WELL PUT ON TOO. FLORENCE MERRILL AND CYRIL HENDERSON. BUT HILDA BURGOYNE'S THE HIT OF THE PIECE. HUGH'S WRITTEN A DELIGHTFUL PART FOR HER AND SHE'S QUITE INEXPRESSIBLE. IT'S BEEN ON ONLY TWO WEEKS AND I'VE BEEN HALF A DOZEN TIMES ALREADY. I HAPPEN TO HAVE MAC CONNELL'S BOX FOR TONIGHT OR THERE'D BE NO CHANCE OF OUR GETTING PLACES. THERE'S EVERYTHING IN SEEING HILDA WHILE SHE'S FRESH IN A PART. SHE'S APT TO GROW A BIT STALE AFTER A TIME. THE ONES WHO HAVE ANY IMAGINATION DO. HILDA BURGOYNE ALEXANDER EXCLAIMED MILDLY. WHY I HAVEN'T HEARD OF HER FOR YEARS MAINHALL LAUGHED. IT'S ONLY LATELY SINCE MAC CONNELL AND HIS SET HAVE GOT HOLD OF HER THAT SHE'S COME UP. MYSELF I ALWAYS KNEW SHE HAD IT IN HER. IF WE HAD ONE REAL CRITIC IN LONDON BUT WHAT CAN ONE EXPECT. DO YOU KNOW ALEXANDER MAINHALL LOOKED WITH PERPLEXITY UP INTO THE TOP OF THE HANSOM AND RUBBED HIS PINK CHEEK WITH HIS GLOVED FINGER DO YOU KNOW I SOMETIMES THINK OF TAKING TO CRITICISM SERIOUSLY MYSELF. IN A WAY IT WOULD BE A SACRIFICE BUT DEAR ME WE DO NEED SOME ONE. JUST THEN THEY DROVE UP TO THE DUKE OF YORK'S SO ALEXANDER DID NOT COMMIT HIMSELF BUT FOLLOWED MAINHALL INTO THE THEATRE. WHEN THEY ENTERED THE STAGE BOX ON THE LEFT THE FIRST ACT WAS WELL UNDER WAY THE SCENE BEING THE INTERIOR OF A CABIN IN THE SOUTH OF IRELAND. AS THEY SAT DOWN A BURST OF APPLAUSE DREW ALEXANDER'S ATTENTION TO THE STAGE. MISS BURGOYNE AND HER DONKEY WERE THRUSTING THEIR HEADS IN AT THE HALF DOOR. AFTER ALL HE REFLECTED THERE'S SMALL PROBABILITY OF HER RECOGNIZING ME. SHE DOUBTLESS HASN'T THOUGHT OF ME FOR YEARS. THE AUDIENCE HAD COME FOREWARNED EVIDENTLY AND WHENEVER THE RAGGED SLIP OF A DONKEY GIRL RAN UPON THE STAGE THERE WAS A DEEP MURMUR OF APPROBATION EVERY ONE SMILED AND GLOWED AND MAINHALL HITCHED HIS HEAVY CHAIR A LITTLE NEARER THE BRASS RAILING. YOU SEE HE MURMURED IN ALEXANDER'S EAR AS THE CURTAIN FELL ON THE FIRST ACT ONE ALMOST NEVER SEES A PART LIKE THAT DONE WITHOUT SMARTNESS OR MAWKISHNESS. OF COURSE HILDA IS IRISH THE BURGOYNES HAVE BEEN STAGE PEOPLE FOR GENERATIONS AND SHE HAS THE IRISH VOICE. IT'S DELIGHTFUL TO HEAR IT IN A LONDON THEATRE. SHE SAVES HER HAND TOO SHE'S AT HER BEST IN THE SECOND ACT. SHE'S REALLY MAC CONNELL'S POETIC MOTIF YOU SEE MAKES THE WHOLE THING A FAIRY TALE. THE SECOND ACT OPENED BEFORE PHILLY DOYLE'S UNDERGROUND STILL WITH PEGGY AND HER BATTERED DONKEY COME IN TO SMUGGLE A LOAD OF POTHEEN ACROSS THE BOG AND TO BRING PHILLY WORD OF WHAT WAS DOING IN THE WORLD WITHOUT AND OF WHAT WAS HAPPENING ALONG THE ROADSIDES AND DITCHES WITH THE FIRST GLEAM OF FINE WEATHER. ALEXANDER ANNOYED BY MAINHALL'S SIGHS AND EXCLAMATIONS WATCHED HER WITH KEEN HALF SKEPTICAL INTEREST. AS MAINHALL HAD SAID SHE WAS THE SECOND ACT THE PLOT AND FEELING ALIKE DEPENDED UPON HER LIGHTNESS OF FOOT HER LIGHTNESS OF TOUCH UPON THE SHREWDNESS AND DEFT FANCIFULNESS THAT PLAYED ALTERNATELY AND SOMETIMES TOGETHER IN HER MIRTHFUL BROWN EYES" }, { "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "chapter": "2273", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4446/2273/2273_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "3b89fed455673adbd51fce8af85b78a4429a80deab32fe52d34254e32864a580", "seconds": 236.69, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 38.8, 37.3, 29.8, 40.4, 38.3, 38.0, 37.7, 38.3, 36.6, 37.7, 37.1, 36.8, 36.3, 37.0, 37.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON ALEXANDER REMEMBERED MISS BURGOYNE'S INVITATION AND CALLED AT HER APARTMENT. HE FOUND IT A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE PLACE AND HE MET CHARMING PEOPLE THERE. HILDA LIVED ALONE ATTENDED BY A VERY PRETTY AND COMPETENT FRENCH SERVANT WHO ANSWERED THE DOOR AND BROUGHT IN THE TEA. ALEXANDER ARRIVED EARLY AND SOME TWENTY ODD PEOPLE DROPPED IN DURING THE COURSE OF THE AFTERNOON. HUGH MAC CONNELL CAME WITH HIS SISTER AND STOOD ABOUT MANAGING HIS TEA CUP AWKWARDLY AND WATCHING EVERY ONE OUT OF HIS DEEP SET FADED EYES. HE WAS NEVER SO WITTY OR SO SHARP HERE AS ELSEWHERE AND ALEXANDER THOUGHT HE BEHAVED AS IF HE WERE AN ELDERLY RELATIVE COME IN TO A YOUNG GIRL'S PARTY. THE EDITOR OF A MONTHLY REVIEW CAME WITH HIS WIFE AND LADY KILDARE THE IRISH PHILANTHROPIST BROUGHT HER YOUNG NEPHEW ROBERT OWEN WHO HAD COME UP FROM OXFORD AND WHO WAS VISIBLY EXCITED AND GRATIFIED BY HIS FIRST INTRODUCTION TO MISS BURGOYNE. HILDA WAS VERY NICE TO HIM AND HE SAT ON THE EDGE OF HIS CHAIR FLUSHED WITH HIS CONVERSATIONAL EFFORTS AND MOVING HIS CHIN ABOUT NERVOUSLY OVER HIS HIGH COLLAR. SARAH FROST THE NOVELIST CAME WITH HER HUSBAND A VERY GENIAL AND PLACID OLD SCHOLAR WHO HAD BECOME SLIGHTLY DERANGED UPON THE SUBJECT OF THE FOURTH DIMENSION. ON OTHER MATTERS HE WAS PERFECTLY RATIONAL AND HE WAS EASY AND PLEASING IN CONVERSATION. HILDA SEEMED PARTICULARLY FOND OF THIS QUAINT COUPLE AND BARTLEY HIMSELF WAS SO PLEASED WITH THEIR MILD AND THOUGHTFUL CONVERSE THAT HE TOOK HIS LEAVE WHEN THEY DID AND WALKED WITH THEM OVER TO OXFORD STREET WHERE THEY WAITED FOR THEIR BUS. THEY ASKED HIM TO COME TO SEE THEM IN CHELSEA AND THEY SPOKE VERY TENDERLY OF HILDA. AMERICAN TOURS HAVE SPOILED THEM I'M AFRAID. THEY HAVE ALL GROWN VERY SMART. LAMB WOULDN'T CARE A GREAT DEAL ABOUT MANY OF THEM I FANCY. ALEXANDER WENT BACK TO BEDFORD SQUARE A SECOND SUNDAY AFTERNOON. HE HAD A LONG TALK WITH MAC CONNELL BUT HE GOT NO WORD WITH HILDA ALONE AND HE LEFT IN A DISCONTENTED STATE OF MIND. FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK HE WAS NERVOUS AND UNSETTLED AND KEPT RUSHING HIS WORK AS IF HE WERE PREPARING FOR IMMEDIATE DEPARTURE. ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON HE CUT SHORT A COMMITTEE MEETING JUMPED INTO A HANSOM AND DROVE TO BEDFORD SQUARE. WHEN BARTLEY ARRIVED AT BEDFORD SQUARE ON SUNDAY EVENING MARIE THE PRETTY LITTLE FRENCH GIRL MET HIM AT THE DOOR AND CONDUCTED HIM UPSTAIRS. HILDA WAS WRITING IN HER LIVING ROOM UNDER THE LIGHT OF A TALL DESK LAMP. EVERY ONE AT LADY WALFORD'S WAS LOOKING AT IT. HILDA CURTSIED IS THAT WHY YOU THINK IT PRETTY. I'VE NO NEED FOR FINE CLOTHES IN MAC'S PLAY THIS TIME SO I CAN AFFORD A FEW DUDDIES FOR MYSELF. IT'S OWING TO THAT SAME CHANCE BY THE WAY THAT I AM ABLE TO ASK YOU TO DINNER. I DON'T NEED MARIE TO DRESS ME THIS SEASON SO SHE KEEPS HOUSE FOR ME AND MY LITTLE GALWAY GIRL HAS GONE HOME FOR A VISIT. I SHOULD NEVER HAVE ASKED YOU IF MOLLY HAD BEEN HERE FOR I REMEMBER YOU DON'T LIKE ENGLISH COOKERY. ALEXANDER WALKED ABOUT THE ROOM LOOKING AT EVERYTHING. I HAVEN'T HAD A CHANCE YET TO TELL YOU WHAT A JOLLY LITTLE PLACE I THINK THIS IS. WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE ETCHINGS THEY'RE QUITE UNUSUAL AREN'T THEY. LADY WESTMERE SENT THEM TO ME FROM ROME LAST CHRISTMAS. SHE IS VERY MUCH INTERESTED IN THE AMERICAN ARTIST WHO DID THEM. THEY ARE ALL SKETCHES MADE ABOUT THE VILLA D'ESTE YOU SEE. HE PAINTED THAT GROUP OF CYPRESSES FOR THE SALON AND IT WAS BOUGHT FOR THE LUXEMBOURG. ALEXANDER WALKED OVER TO THE BOOKCASES IT'S THE AIR OF THE WHOLE PLACE HERE THAT I LIKE. YOU HAVEN'T GOT ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T BELONG. ROOMS ALWAYS LOOK BETTER BY LAMPLIGHT IN LONDON AT LEAST. THOUGH MARIE IS CLEAN REALLY CLEAN AS THE FRENCH ARE. MARIE GOT THEM ALL FRESH IN COVENT GARDEN MARKET YESTERDAY MORNING. I'M GLAD SAID ALEXANDER SIMPLY. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW GLAD I AM TO HAVE YOU SO PRETTY AND COMFORTABLE HERE AND TO HEAR EVERY ONE SAYING SUCH NICE THINGS ABOUT YOU. YOU'VE GOT AWFULLY NICE FRIENDS HE ADDED HUMBLY PICKING UP A LITTLE JADE ELEPHANT FROM HER DESK. THOSE FELLOWS ARE ALL VERY LOYAL EVEN MAINHALL. THEY DON'T TALK OF ANY ONE ELSE AS THEY DO OF YOU. HILDA SAT DOWN ON THE COUCH AND SAID SERIOUSLY I'VE A NEAT LITTLE SUM IN THE BANK TOO NOW AND I OWN A MITE OF A HUT IN GALWAY IT'S NOT WORTH MUCH BUT I LOVE IT" }, { "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "chapter": "2275", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4446/2275/2275_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "2843dfe7bff9c455fc30400cd59363c8da9970d82f3900df8ffb9220b8d4b1e0", "seconds": 237.66, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 34.5, 35.1, 35.9, 34.7, 34.7, 35.4, 35.3, 35.5, 35.4, 34.8, 35.6, 35.6, 35.7, 35.6, 36.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE STOP AT QUEENSTOWN THE TEDIOUS PASSAGE UP THE MERSEY WERE THINGS THAT HE NOTED DIMLY THROUGH HIS GROWING IMPATIENCE. EMERGING AT EUSTON AT HALF PAST THREE O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON ALEXANDER HAD HIS LUGGAGE SENT TO THE SAVOY AND DROVE AT ONCE TO BEDFORD SQUARE. SHE BLUSHED AND SMILED AND FUMBLED HIS CARD IN HER CONFUSION BEFORE SHE RAN UPSTAIRS. ALEXANDER PACED UP AND DOWN THE HALLWAY BUTTONING AND UNBUTTONING HIS OVERCOAT UNTIL SHE RETURNED AND TOOK HIM UP TO HILDA'S LIVING ROOM. THE ROOM WAS EMPTY WHEN HE ENTERED. A COAL FIRE WAS CRACKLING IN THE GRATE AND THE LAMPS WERE LIT FOR IT WAS ALREADY BEGINNING TO GROW DARK OUTSIDE. ALEXANDER DID NOT SIT DOWN. HE STOOD HIS GROUND OVER BY THE WINDOWS UNTIL HILDA CAME IN. SHE CALLED HIS NAME ON THE THRESHOLD BUT IN HER SWIFT FLIGHT ACROSS THE ROOM SHE FELT A CHANGE IN HIM AND CAUGHT HERSELF UP SO DEFTLY THAT HE COULD NOT TELL JUST WHEN SHE DID IT. SHE MERELY BRUSHED HIS CHEEK WITH HER LIPS AND PUT A HAND LIGHTLY AND JOYOUSLY ON EITHER SHOULDER. OH WHAT A GRAND THING TO HAPPEN ON A RAW DAY. I FELT IT IN MY BONES WHEN I WOKE THIS MORNING THAT SOMETHING SPLENDID WAS GOING TO TURN UP. I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE SISTER KATE OR COUSIN MIKE WOULD BE HAPPENING ALONG. I NEVER DREAMED IT WOULD BE YOU BARTLEY. BUT WHY DO YOU LET ME CHATTER ON LIKE THIS. COME OVER TO THE FIRE YOU'RE CHILLED THROUGH. SHE PUSHED HIM TOWARD THE BIG CHAIR BY THE FIRE AND SAT DOWN ON A STOOL AT THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE HEARTH HER KNEES DRAWN UP TO HER CHIN LAUGHING LIKE A HAPPY LITTLE GIRL. WHEN DID YOU COME BARTLEY AND HOW DID IT HAPPEN YOU HAVEN'T SPOKEN A WORD. I GOT IN ABOUT TEN MINUTES AGO. I LANDED AT LIVERPOOL THIS MORNING AND CAME DOWN ON THE BOAT TRAIN. ALEXANDER LEANED FORWARD AND WARMED HIS HANDS BEFORE THE BLAZE. HILDA WATCHED HIM WITH PERPLEXITY. THERE'S SOMETHING TROUBLING YOU BARTLEY WHAT IS IT. BARTLEY BENT LOWER OVER THE FIRE. IT'S THE WHOLE THING THAT TROUBLES ME HILDA YOU AND I. HILDA TOOK A QUICK SOFT BREATH. SHE LOOKED AT HIS HEAVY SHOULDERS AND BIG DETERMINED HEAD THRUST FORWARD LIKE A CATAPULT IN LEASH. WHAT ABOUT US BARTLEY SHE ASKED IN A THIN VOICE. HE LOCKED AND UNLOCKED HIS HANDS OVER THE GRATE AND SPREAD HIS FINGERS CLOSE TO THE BLUISH FLAME WHILE THE COALS CRACKLED AND THE CLOCK TICKED AND A STREET VENDOR BEGAN TO CALL UNDER THE WINDOW. AT LAST ALEXANDER BROUGHT OUT ONE WORD EVERYTHING. HILDA WAS PALE BY THIS TIME AND HER EYES WERE WIDE WITH FRIGHT. SHE LOOKED ABOUT DESPERATELY FROM BARTLEY TO THE DOOR THEN TO THE WINDOWS AND BACK AGAIN TO BARTLEY. SHE ROSE UNCERTAINLY TOUCHED HIS HAIR WITH HER HAND THEN SANK BACK UPON HER STOOL. I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WISH ME TO BARTLEY SHE SAID TREMULOUSLY. I CAN'T STAND SEEING YOU MISERABLE. I CAN'T LIVE WITH MYSELF ANY LONGER HE ANSWERED ROUGHLY. HE ROSE AND PUSHED THE CHAIR BEHIND HIM AND BEGAN TO WALK MISERABLY ABOUT THE ROOM SEEMING TO FIND IT TOO SMALL FOR HIM. HE PULLED UP A WINDOW AS IF THE AIR WERE HEAVY. HILDA WATCHED HIM FROM HER CORNER TREMBLING AND SCARCELY BREATHING DARK SHADOWS GROWING ABOUT HER EYES IT. IT HASN'T ALWAYS MADE YOU MISERABLE HAS IT. HER EYELIDS FELL AND HER LIPS QUIVERED ALWAYS. BUT IT'S WORSE NOW IT'S UNBEARABLE. IT TORTURES ME EVERY MINUTE. I AM NOT A MAN WHO CAN LIVE TWO LIVES HE WENT ON FEVERISHLY EACH LIFE SPOILS THE OTHER. I GET NOTHING BUT MISERY OUT OF EITHER. THE WORLD IS ALL THERE JUST AS IT USED TO BE BUT I CAN'T GET AT IT ANY MORE. THERE IS THIS DECEPTION BETWEEN ME AND EVERYTHING. AT THAT WORD DECEPTION SPOKEN WITH SUCH SELF CONTEMPT THE COLOR FLASHED BACK INTO HILDA'S FACE AS SUDDENLY AS IF SHE HAD BEEN STRUCK BY A WHIPLASH. SHE BIT HER LIP AND LOOKED DOWN AT HER HANDS WHICH WERE CLASPED TIGHTLY IN FRONT OF HER. COULD YOU COULD YOU SIT DOWN AND TALK ABOUT IT QUIETLY BARTLEY AS IF I WERE A FRIEND AND NOT SOME ONE WHO HAD TO BE DEFIED. IT WAS MYSELF I WAS DEFYING HILDA. I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT UNTIL I AM WORN OUT. HE LOOKED AT HER AND HIS HAGGARD FACE SOFTENED. HE PUT OUT HIS HAND TOWARD HER AS HE LOOKED AWAY AGAIN INTO THE FIRE" }, { "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "chapter": "16021", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4507/16021/16021_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "c110acabd79cf24eda114a70f2ba26b4fb867a1ab01413d22ae3037677135e29", "seconds": 224.99, "pieces": 14, "cutLevelsDb": [ 41.3, 41.1, 41.4, 39.9, 40.6, 41.5, 40.6, 39.8, 41.0, 39.8, 40.5, 41.3, 41.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "CHAPTER ONE ORIGIN. PIGRITIA IS A TERRIBLE WORD. IT ENGENDERS A WHOLE WORLD LA PEGRE FOR WHICH READ THEFT AND A HELL LA PEGRENNE FOR WHICH READ HUNGER. THUS IDLENESS IS THE MOTHER. SHE HAS A SON THEFT AND A DAUGHTER HUNGER. WHERE ARE WE AT THIS MOMENT IN THE LAND OF SLANG. WHAT IS SLANG. IT IS AT ONE AND THE SAME TIME A NATION AND A DIALECT IT IS THEFT IN ITS TWO KINDS PEOPLE AND LANGUAGE. IT IS THE LANGUAGE OF PRISONS GALLEYS CONVICTS OF EVERYTHING THAT IS MOST ABOMINABLE IN SOCIETY. WE HAVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD THIS SORT OF OBJECTIONS. SINCE THAT TIME TWO POWERFUL ROMANCERS ONE OF WHOM IS A PROFOUND OBSERVER OF THE HUMAN HEART THE OTHER AN INTREPID FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE BALZAC AND EUGENE SUE HAVING REPRESENTED THEIR RUFFIANS AS TALKING THEIR NATURAL LANGUAGE AS THE AUTHOR OF THE LAST DAY OF A CONDEMNED MAN DID IN EIGHTEEN TWENTY EIGHT THE SAME OBJECTIONS HAVE BEEN RAISED. PEOPLE REPEATED WHAT DO AUTHORS MEAN BY THAT REVOLTING DIALECT. SLANG IS ODIOUS. SLANG MAKES ONE SHUDDER. WHO DENIES THAT OF COURSE IT DOES. WHEN IT IS A QUESTION OF PROBING A WOUND A GULF A SOCIETY SINCE WHEN HAS IT BEEN CONSIDERED WRONG TO GO TOO FAR TO GO TO THE BOTTOM. WE HAVE ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT IT WAS SOMETIMES A COURAGEOUS ACT AND AT LEAST A SIMPLE AND USEFUL DEED WORTHY OF THE SYMPATHETIC ATTENTION WHICH DUTY ACCEPTED AND FULFILLED MERITS. WHY SHOULD ONE NOT EXPLORE EVERYTHING AND STUDY EVERYTHING. WHY SHOULD ONE HALT ON THE WAY. THE HALT IS A MATTER DEPENDING ON THE SOUNDING LINE AND NOT ON THE LEADSMAN. NOTHING IS MORE LUGUBRIOUS THAN THE CONTEMPLATION THUS IN ITS NUDITY IN THE BROAD LIGHT OF THOUGHT OF THE HORRIBLE SWARMING OF SLANG. IT SEEMS IN FACT TO BE A SORT OF HORRIBLE BEAST MADE FOR THE NIGHT WHICH HAS JUST BEEN TORN FROM ITS CESSPOOL. ONE THINKS ONE BEHOLDS A FRIGHTFUL LIVING AND BRISTLING THICKET WHICH QUIVERS RUSTLES WAVERS RETURNS TO SHADOW THREATENS AND GLARES. ONE WORD RESEMBLES A CLAW ANOTHER AN EXTINGUISHED AND BLEEDING EYE SUCH AND SUCH A PHRASE SEEMS TO MOVE LIKE THE CLAW OF A CRAB. NOW WHEN HAS HORROR EVER EXCLUDED STUDY. SINCE WHEN HAS MALADY BANISHED MEDICINE. CAN ONE IMAGINE A NATURALIST REFUSING TO STUDY THE VIPER THE BAT THE SCORPION THE CENTIPEDE THE TARANTULA AND ONE WHO WOULD CAST THEM BACK INTO THEIR DARKNESS SAYING OH HOW UGLY THAT IS. HE WOULD BE LIKE A PHILOLOGIST REFUSING TO EXAMINE A FACT IN LANGUAGE A PHILOSOPHER HESITATING TO SCRUTINIZE A FACT IN HUMANITY. WHAT IS SLANG PROPERLY SPEAKING. IT IS THE LANGUAGE OF WRETCHEDNESS" }, { "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "chapter": "29093", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4970/29093/29093_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "49dafc2e21ae8cf632c8797dab28c98628b80bc1493e6ba9cdb8039c15d5593a", "seconds": 235.39, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 69.3, 69.4, 69.2, 69.3, 69.3, 69.2, 69.3, 69.2, 69.3, 69.3, 69.3, 69.3, 69.4, 69.3, 69.4, 69.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "OH IT'S EASY ENOUGH TO MAKE A FORTUNE HENRY SAID. IT SEEMS TO BE EASIER THAN IT IS I BEGIN TO THINK REPLIED PHILIP. WELL WHY DON'T YOU GO INTO SOMETHING. YOU'LL NEVER DIG IT OUT OF THE ASTOR LIBRARY. TO THE YOUNG AMERICAN HERE OR ELSEWHERE THE PATHS TO FORTUNE ARE INNUMERABLE AND ALL OPEN THERE IS INVITATION IN THE AIR AND SUCCESS IN ALL HIS WIDE HORIZON. HE IS EMBARRASSED WHICH TO CHOOSE AND IS NOT UNLIKELY TO WASTE YEARS IN DALLYING WITH HIS CHANCES BEFORE GIVING HIMSELF TO THE SERIOUS TUG AND STRAIN OF A SINGLE OBJECT. HE HAS NO TRADITIONS TO BIND HIM OR GUIDE HIM AND HIS IMPULSE IS TO BREAK AWAY FROM THE OCCUPATION HIS FATHER HAS FOLLOWED AND MAKE A NEW WAY FOR HIMSELF. PHILIP STERLING USED TO SAY THAT IF HE SHOULD SERIOUSLY SET HIMSELF FOR TEN YEARS TO ANY ONE OF THE DOZEN PROJECTS THAT WERE IN HIS BRAIN HE FELT THAT HE COULD BE A RICH MAN. HE WANTED TO BE RICH HE HAD A SINCERE DESIRE FOR A FORTUNE BUT FOR SOME UNACCOUNTABLE REASON HE HESITATED ABOUT ADDRESSING HIMSELF TO THE NARROW WORK OF GETTING IT. HE NEVER WALKED BROADWAY A PART OF ITS TIDE OF ABUNDANT SHIFTING LIFE WITHOUT FEELING SOMETHING OF THE FLUSH OF WEALTH AND UNCONSCIOUSLY TAKING THE ELASTIC STEP OF ONE WELL TO DO IN THIS PROSPEROUS WORLD. ESPECIALLY AT NIGHT IN THE CROWDED THEATRE PHILIP WAS TOO YOUNG TO REMEMBER THE OLD CHAMBERS STREET BOX WHERE THE SERIOUS BURTON LED HIS HILARIOUS AND PAGAN CREW IN THE INTERVALS OF THE SCREAMING COMEDY WHEN THE ORCHESTRA SCRAPED AND GRUNTED AND TOOTED ITS DISSOLUTE TUNES THE WORLD SEEMED FULL OF OPPORTUNITIES TO PHILIP AND HIS HEART EXULTED WITH A CONSCIOUS ABILITY TO TAKE ANY OF ITS PRIZES HE CHOSE TO PLUCK. PERHAPS IT WAS THE SWIMMING EASE OF THE ACTING ON THE STAGE WHERE VIRTUE HAD ITS REWARD IN THREE EASY ACTS PERHAPS IT WAS THE EXCESSIVE LIGHT OF THE HOUSE OR THE MUSIC OR THE BUZZ OF THE EXCITED TALK BETWEEN ACTS PERHAPS IT WAS YOUTH WHICH BELIEVED EVERYTHING BUT FOR SOME REASON WHILE PHILIP WAS AT THE THEATRE HE HAD THE UTMOST CONFIDENCE IN LIFE AND HIS READY VICTORY IN IT. DELIGHTFUL ILLUSION OF PAINT AND TINSEL AND SILK ATTIRE OF CHEAP SENTIMENT AND HIGH AND MIGHTY DIALOGUE. WILL THERE NOT ALWAYS BE ROSIN ENOUGH FOR THE SQUEAKING FIDDLE BOW. AND WHEN HE ADVANCES DOWN TO THE FOOT LIGHTS AND DEFIANTLY INFORMS THE AUDIENCE THAT HE WHO LAYS HIS HAND ON A WOMAN EXCEPT IN THE WAY OF KINDNESS DO WE NOT ALL APPLAUD SO AS TO DROWN THE REST OF THE SENTENCE. PHILIP NEVER WAS FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO HEAR WHAT WOULD BECOME OF A MAN WHO SHOULD LAY HIS HAND ON A WOMAN WITH THE EXCEPTION NAMED BUT HE LEARNED AFTERWARDS THAT THE WOMAN WHO LAYS HER HAND ON A MAN WITHOUT ANY EXCEPTION WHATSOEVER IS ALWAYS ACQUITTED BY THE JURY. THE FACT WAS THOUGH PHILIP STERLING DID NOT KNOW IT THAT HE WANTED SEVERAL OTHER THINGS QUITE AS MUCH AS HE WANTED WEALTH. THE MODEST FELLOW WOULD HAVE LIKED FAME THRUST UPON HIM FOR SOME WORTHY ACHIEVEMENT IT MIGHT BE FOR A BOOK OR FOR THE SKILLFUL MANAGEMENT OF SOME GREAT NEWSPAPER OR FOR SOME DARING EXPEDITION LIKE THAT OF LIEUTENANT STRAIN OR DOCTOR KANE. HE WAS UNABLE TO DECIDE EXACTLY WHAT IT SHOULD BE. SOMETIMES HE THOUGHT HE WOULD LIKE TO STAND IN A CONSPICUOUS PULPIT AND HUMBLY PREACH THE GOSPEL OF REPENTANCE AND IT EVEN CROSSED HIS MIND THAT IT WOULD BE NOBLE TO GIVE HIMSELF TO A MISSIONARY LIFE TO SOME BENIGHTED REGION WHERE THE DATE PALM GROWS AND THE NIGHTINGALE'S VOICE IS IN TUNE AND THE BUL BUL SINGS ON THE OFF NIGHTS. PHILIP HAD A GOOD APPETITE A SUNNY TEMPER AND A CLEAR HEARTY LAUGH" }, { "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "chapter": "29095", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4970/29095/29095_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "57a865a7b73d5dd60ecec1741652f7454563151c8216ffc106105fa0c5391bc5", "seconds": 237.38, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 54.5, 54.5, 54.6, 54.6, 54.5, 54.6, 54.5, 54.5, 54.7, 54.6, 54.6, 54.5, 54.5, 54.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE LETTER THAT PHILIP STERLING WROTE TO RUTH BOLTON ON THE EVENING OF SETTING OUT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE IN THE WEST FOUND THAT YOUNG LADY IN HER OWN FATHER'S HOUSE IN PHILADELPHIA. IT WAS ONE OF THE PLEASANTEST OF THE MANY CHARMING SUBURBAN HOUSES IN THAT HOSPITABLE CITY WHICH IS TERRITORIALLY ONE OF THE LARGEST CITIES IN THE WORLD AND ONLY PREVENTED FROM BECOMING THE CONVENIENT METROPOLIS OF THE COUNTRY BY THE INTRUSIVE STRIP OF CAMDEN AND AMBOY SAND WHICH SHUTS IT OFF FROM THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. IT IS A CITY OF STEADY THRIFT THE ARMS OF WHICH MIGHT WELL BE THE DELIBERATE BUT DELICIOUS TERRAPIN THAT IMPARTS SUCH A ROYAL FLAVOR TO ITS FEASTS. IT WAS A SPRING MORNING AND PERHAPS IT WAS THE INFLUENCE OF IT THAT MADE RUTH A LITTLE RESTLESS SATISFIED NEITHER WITH THE OUT DOORS NOR THE IN DOORS. HER SISTERS HAD GONE TO THE CITY TO SHOW SOME COUNTRY VISITORS INDEPENDENCE HALL GIRARD COLLEGE AND FAIRMOUNT WATER WORKS AND PARK FOUR OBJECTS WHICH AMERICANS CANNOT DIE PEACEFULLY EVEN IN NAPLES WITHOUT HAVING SEEN. BUT RUTH CONFESSED THAT SHE WAS TIRED OF THEM AND ALSO OF THE MINT. SHE WAS TIRED OF OTHER THINGS. SHE TRIED THIS MORNING AN AIR OR TWO UPON THE PIANO SANG A SIMPLE SONG IN A SWEET BUT SLIGHTLY METALLIC VOICE AND THEN SEATING HERSELF BY THE OPEN WINDOW READ PHILIP'S LETTER. WAS SHE THINKING ABOUT PHILIP AS SHE GAZED ACROSS THE FRESH LAWN OVER THE TREE TOPS TO THE CHELTON HILLS OR OF THAT WORLD WHICH HIS ENTRANCE INTO HER TRADITION BOUND LIFE HAD BEEN ONE OF THE MEANS OF OPENING TO HER. WHATEVER SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS NOT IDLY MUSING AS ONE MIGHT SEE BY THE EXPRESSION OF HER FACE. AFTER A TIME SHE TOOK UP A BOOK IT WAS A MEDICAL WORK AND TO ALL APPEARANCE ABOUT AS INTERESTING TO A GIRL OF EIGHTEEN AS THE STATUTES AT LARGE BUT HER FACE WAS SOON AGLOW OVER ITS PAGES AND SHE WAS SO ABSORBED IN IT THAT SHE DID NOT NOTICE THE ENTRANCE OF HER MOTHER AT THE OPEN DOOR RUTH. WELL MOTHER SAID THE YOUNG STUDENT LOOKING UP WITH A SHADE OF IMPATIENCE. I WANTED TO TALK WITH THEE A LITTLE ABOUT THY PLANS. MOTHER THEE KNOWS I COULDN'T STAND IT AT WESTFIELD THE SCHOOL STIFLED ME IT'S A PLACE TO TURN YOUNG PEOPLE INTO DRIED FRUIT. I KNOW SAID MARGARET BOLTON WITH A HALF ANXIOUS SMILE THEE CHAFES AGAINST ALL THE WAYS OF FRIENDS BUT WHAT WILL THEE DO. WHY IS THEE SO DISCONTENTED. IF I MUST SAY IT MOTHER I WANT TO GO AWAY AND GET OUT OF THIS DEAD LEVEL. I HAD A VISIT YESTERDAY FROM THE SOCIETY'S COMMITTEE BY WAY OF DISCIPLINE BECAUSE WE HAVE A PIANO IN THE HOUSE WHICH IS AGAINST THE RULES. I HOPE THEE TOLD THE ELDERS THAT FATHER AND I ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE PIANO AND THAT MUCH AS THEE LOVES MUSIC THEE IS NEVER IN THE ROOM WHEN IT IS PLAYED. FORTUNATELY FATHER IS ALREADY OUT OF MEETING SO THEY CAN'T DISCIPLINE HIM. I HEARD FATHER TELL COUSIN ABNER THAT HE WAS WHIPPED SO OFTEN FOR WHISTLING WHEN HE WAS A BOY THAT HE WAS DETERMINED TO HAVE WHAT COMPENSATION HE COULD GET NOW. THY WAYS GREATLY TRY ME RUTH AND ALL THY RELATIONS. I DESIRE THY HAPPINESS FIRST OF ALL BUT THEE IS STARTING OUT ON A DANGEROUS PATH. IS THY FATHER WILLING THEE SHOULD GO AWAY TO A SCHOOL OF THE WORLD'S PEOPLE. I HAVE NOT ASKED HIM RUTH REPLIED WITH A LOOK THAT MIGHT IMPLY THAT SHE WAS ONE OF THOSE DETERMINED LITTLE BODIES WHO FIRST MADE UP HER OWN MIND AND THEN COMPELLED OTHERS TO MAKE UP THEIRS IN ACCORDANCE WITH HERS" }, { "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "chapter": "23283", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4992/23283/23283_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "29cacbc00e411648e6a5f13e61c2e6464595f8a9183fede725720e925c9106b1", "seconds": 234.64, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 45.7, 41.1, 45.9, 43.5, 41.2, 44.7, 48.3, 50.7, 45.5, 44.8, 49.7, 45.3, 50.7, 46.8, 47.6 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "BUT THE MORE FORGETFULNESS HAD THEN PREVAILED THE MORE POWERFUL WAS THE FORCE OF REMEMBRANCE WHEN SHE AWOKE. AT FIRST SO SOUND HER SLEEP HAD BEEN THAT SHE HAD A DIFFICULTY IN CALLING TO MIND WHY SHE WAS UNHAPPY BUT THAT SHE WAS UNHAPPY SHE WELL RECOLLECTED WHEN THE CAUSE CAME TO HER MEMORY SHE WOULD HAVE SLEPT AGAIN BUT IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE. THOUGH HER REST HAD BEEN SOUND IT HAD NOT BEEN REFRESHING SHE WAS FAR FROM WELL AND SENT WORD OF HER INDISPOSITION AS AN APOLOGY FOR NOT BEING PRESENT AT BREAKFAST. LORD ELMWOOD LOOKED CONCERNED WHEN THE MESSAGE WAS DELIVERED MISTER SANDFORD SHOOK HIS HEAD. MISS MILNER'S HEALTH IS NOT GOOD. SAID MISSUS HORTON A FEW MINUTES AFTER. LORD ELMWOOD LAID DOWN THE NEWSPAPER TO ATTEND TO HER. SO THERE IS TO ME ADDED SANDFORD WITH A SARCASTIC SNEER. AND SO THERE IS TO ME SAID MISS WOODLEY WITH A SERIOUS FACE AND A HEARTFELT SIGH. LORD ELMWOOD GAZED BY TURNS AT EACH AS EACH DELIVERED THEIR SENTIMENTS AND WHEN THEY WERE ALL SILENT HE LOOKED BEWILDERED NOT KNOWING WHAT JUDGMENT TO FORM FROM ANY OF THESE SENTENCES. SOON AFTER BREAKFAST MISTER SANDFORD WITHDREW TO HIS OWN APARTMENT MISSUS HORTON IN A LITTLE TIME WENT TO HERS LORD ELMWOOD AND MISS WOODLEY WERE LEFT ALONE. HE IMMEDIATELY ROSE FROM HIS SEAT AND SAID. I THINK MISS WOODLEY MISS MILNER WAS EXTREMELY TO BLAME THOUGH I DID NOT CHUSE TO TELL HER SO BEFORE MISTER SANDFORD IN GIVING LORD FREDERICK AN OPPORTUNITY OF SPEAKING TO HER UNLESS SHE MEANS THAT HE SHALL RENEW HIS ADDRESSES. THAT I AM CERTAIN REPLIED MISS WOODLEY SHE DOES NOT MEAN AND I ASSURE YOU MY LORD SERIOUSLY IT WAS BY MERE ACCIDENT SHE SAW HIM YESTERDAY EVENING OR PERMITTED HIS ATTENDANCE UPON HER TO HER CARRIAGE. I AM GLAD TO HEAR IT HE RETURNED QUICKLY FOR ALTHOUGH I AM NOT OF A SUSPICIOUS NATURE YET IN REGARD TO HER AFFECTIONS FOR HIM I CANNOT BUT STILL HAVE MY DOUBTS. YOU NEED HAVE NONE MY LORD REPLIED MISS WOODLEY WITH A SMILE OF CONFIDENCE. AND YET YOU MUST OWN HER BEHAVIOUR HAS WARRANTED THEM HAS IT NOT BEEN IN THIS PARTICULAR INCOHERENT AND UNACCOUNTABLE. THE BEHAVIOUR OF A PERSON IN LOVE NO DOUBT ANSWERED MISS WOODLEY. DON'T I SAY SO REPLIED HE WARMLY AND IS NOT THAT A JUST REASON FOR MY SUSPICIONS. BUT IS THERE ONLY ONE MAN IN THE WORLD ON WHOM THOSE SUSPICIONS CAN FIX SAID MISS WOODLEY WITH THE COLOUR MOUNTING INTO HER FACE. NOT THAT I KNOW OF NOT ONE MORE THAT I KNOW OF HE REPLIED WITH ASTONISHMENT AT WHAT SHE HAD INSINUATED AND YET WITH A PERFECT ASSURANCE THAT SHE WAS IN THE WRONG. PERHAPS I AM MISTAKEN ANSWERED SHE. I BELIEVE I AM PERFECTLY ACQUAINTED WITH THEM REPLIED MISS WOODLEY WITH A SIGNIFICANCE IN HER VOICE AND MANNER WHICH CONVINCED HIM THERE WAS SOME SECRET TO LEARN. AFTER A HESITATION. IT IS FAR FROM ME REPLIED HE TO WISH TO BE ENTRUSTED WITH THE PRIVATE SENTIMENTS OF THOSE WHO DESIRE TO WITH HOLD THEM FROM ME MUCH LESS WOULD I TAKE ANY UNFAIR MEANS TO BE INFORMED OF THEM. TO ASK ANY MORE QUESTIONS OF YOU I BELIEVE WOULD BE UNFAIR. YET I CANNOT BUT LAMENT THAT I AM NOT AS WELL INFORMED AS YOU ARE. I WISH TO PROVE MY FRIENDSHIP TO MISS MILNER BUT SHE WILL NOT SUFFER ME AND EVERY STEP THAT I TAKE FOR HER HAPPINESS I TAKE IN THE MOST PERPLEXING UNCERTAINTY. MISS WOODLEY SIGHED BUT SHE DID NOT SPEAK. HE SEEMED TO WAIT FOR HER REPLY BUT AS SHE MADE NONE HE PROCEEDED. IF EVER BREACH OF CONFIDENCE COULD BE TOLERATED I CERTAINLY KNOW NO OCCASION THAT WOULD SO JUSTLY AUTHORISE IT AS THE PRESENT" }, { "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "chapter": "41797", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4992/41797/41797_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "dd4cb2ab2380aa6782445f48d9b34eb02869adc2de3b02098860d35b329931c6", "seconds": 239.31, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 45.0, 44.7, 44.8, 43.0, 45.5, 45.9, 43.9, 44.6, 44.8, 44.1, 44.6, 41.3, 43.0, 44.2, 45.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE CAREY CHILDREN HAD ONLY FOUND IT BY ACCIDENT ALL THEIR ERRANDS TOOK THEM DOWN THE MAIN STREET TO THE VILLAGE TO THE POPHAM'S COTTAGE AT THE FOOT OF A LITTLE LANE TURNING TOWARDS THE RIVER OR ON TO THE POST OFFICE AND BILL HARMON'S STORE OR TO COLONEL WHEELER'S HOUSE AND THEN TO THE RAILWAY STATION. ONE AFTERNOON NANCY AND KATHLEEN HAD WALKED UP THE ROAD IN SEARCH OF PASTURES NEW AND HAD SPIED DOWN IN A DISTANT HOLLOW A GLOOMY GREY HOUSE ALMOST SURROUNDED BY CEDARS. A GROVE OF POPLARS TO THE LEFT OF IT ONLY MADE THE PROSPECT MORE DEPRESSING AND IF IT HAD NOT BEEN FOR A GREAT SHEET OF WATER NEAR BY FLOATING WITH COW LILIES AND POND LILIES THE WHOLE ASPECT OF THE PLACE WOULD HAVE BEEN UNSPEAKABLY DREARY. YOU WON'T NEVER SEE NOTHIN OF EM SAID MISTER POPHAM. HENRY LORD AIN'T NEVER DARKENED THE VILLAGE FOR YEARS I GUESS AND THE YOUNG ONES AIN'T NEVER BEEN TO SCHOOL SO FAR THEY HAVE A TEACHER OUT FROM PORTLAND TUESDAYS AND FRIDAYS AND THE REST O THE WEEK THEY STUDY UP FOR HIM. HENRY'S BOUT AS MUCH OF A HERMIT'S IF HE LIVED IN A HUT ON A MOUNTING AN HE'S BRINGING UP THE CHILDREN SO THEY'LL BE JEST AS ODD'S HE IS. IS THE MOTHER DEAD MISSUS CAREY ASKED. YES DEAD THESE FOUR YEARS AN A GOOD JOB FOR HER TOO. IT'S AN AWFUL QUEER WORLD. NOT THAT I COULD MAKE A BETTER ONE. I ALLERS SAY WHEN FOLKS GRUMBLE NOW IF YOU WAS GIVEN THE MATERIALS COULD YOU TURN OUT A BETTER WORLD THAN THIS IS. AND WHEN IT COME TO THAT WHAT IF YOU HED TO FURNISH YOUR OWN MATERIALS SAME AS THE LORD DID. I GUESS YOU'D BE PUT TO IT. WELL AS I SAY IT'S AN AWFUL QUEER WORLD THEY CLAP ALL THE BURGLARS INTO JAIL AND THE MURDERERS AND THE WIFE BEATERS I'VE ALLERS THOUGHT A GENTLE REPROOF WOULD BE ENOUGH PUNISHMENT FOR A WIFE BEATER CAUSE HE PROBABLY HAS A LOT O PROVOCATION THAT NOBODY KNOWS AND THE FIREBUGS CAN'T THINK O THE RIGHT NAME SOMETHING LIKE CENDENARIES AN THE BREAKERS O THE PEACE AN WHAT NOT AN YET THE LAW HAS NOTHIN TO SAY TO A MAN LIKE HEN LORD. DOCTOR OF WHAT ASKED MISSUS CAREY BLAMED IF I KNOW. I WOULDN'T TRUST HIM TO DOCTOR A SICK CAT. PEOPLE DON'T HAVE TO BE DOCTORS OF MEDICINE INTERRUPTED GILBERT. GRANDFATHER WAS ALEXANDER CAREY L L D DOCTOR OF LAWS THAT IS. MISTER POPHAM LAID DOWN HIS BRUSH. I SWAN TO MAN HE EJACULATED IF YOU DON'T WORK HARD YOU CAN'T KEEP UP WITH THE TIMES DOCTOR OF LAWS. WELL ALL I CAN SAY IS THEY NEED DOCTORIN AN I'M GLAD THEY'VE GOT ROUND TO EM ONLY HEN LORD AIN'T THE MAN TO DO EM ANY GOOD. WHAT HAS HE DONE TO MAKE HIM SO UNPOPULAR QUERIED MISSUS CAREY. DONE HE AIN'T DONE A THING HE'D OUGHTER SENCE HE WAS BORN. HE KEEPS THE THOU SHALT NOT COMMANDMENTS FIRST RATE HEN LORD DOES. HE NEGLECTED HIS WIFE AND FROZE HER BLOOD AND FRIGHTENED HER TO DEATH POOR LITTLE SHADDER. HE GIVE UP HIS POSITION AND SHUT THE FAMILY UP IN THAT TOMB OF A HOUSE SO T HE COULD STUDY HIS BOOKS. THIS INFORMATION WAS DELIVERED IN THE INTERVALS OF COVERING THE GUEST CHAMBER WALLS WITH A DELIGHTFUL WHITE MOIRE PAPER WHICH OSH ALWAYS ALLUDED TO AS THE WHITE MARIA WHETHER IN MEMORY OF HIS WIFE'S CHRISTIAN NAME OR BECAUSE HIS FRENCH ACCENT WAS NOT UP TO THE MARK NO ONE COULD SAY. MISTER POPHAM EXAGGERATED NOTHING BUT ON THE CONTRARY LEFT MUCH UNSAID IN HIS NARRATIVE OF THE FAMILY AT THE HOUSE OF LORDS. HENRY LORD WITH THE DEGREE OF PH D TO HIS CREDIT HAD BEEN PROFESSOR OF ZOOLOGY AT A NEW ENGLAND COLLEGE BUT HAD RESIGNED HIS POST IN ORDER TO WRITE A SERIES OF SCIENTIFIC TEXT BOOKS. ALWAYS IRRITABLE COLD INDIFFERENT HE HAD GROWN RAPIDLY MORE SO AS YEARS WENT ON" }, { "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "chapter": "41806", "sourceFile": "test-clean/4992/41806/41806_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "cb4bf8bca41a34ddee1f4ac29ae2867b9a1d7d38fd8017d0a0190e972991913b", "seconds": 234.75, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 39.4, 40.1, 39.5, 40.4, 39.6, 41.1, 39.8, 41.8, 40.2, 40.1, 41.9, 39.9, 40.9, 40.5, 40.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "WATER FLOWED FREELY THROUGH COUSIN ANN'S EXPENSIVE PIPES THAT HAD BEEN BURIED SO DEEP IN THEIR TRENCHES THAT THE WINTER FROSTS COULD NOT AFFECT THEM. NATTY HARMON TRIED THE KITCHEN PUMP SECRETLY SEVERAL TIMES DURING THE EVENING FOR THE WATER HAD TO RUN UP HILL ALL THE WAY FROM THE WELL TO THE KITCHEN SINK AND HE BELIEVED THIS TO BE A CONTINUAL MIRACLE THAT MIGHT GIVE OUT AT ANY MOMENT. THE STOVE IN THE CELLAR ALWAYS ALLUDED TO BY GILBERT AS THE YOUNG FURNACE HAD NOT YET BEEN USED SAVE BY WAY OF EXPERIMENT BUT IT WAS BELIEVED TO BE A PERFECT SUCCESS. TO NIGHT THERE WAS NO NEED OF EXTRA HEAT AND THERE WERE GREAT CEREMONIES TO BE OBSERVED IN LIGHTING THE FIRES ON THE HEARTHSTONES. THEY BEGAN WITH THE ONE IN THE FAMILY SITTING ROOM COLONEL WHEELER RALPH THURSTON MISTER AND MISSUS BILL HARMON WITH NATTY AND RUFUS MISTER AND MISSUS POPHAM WITH DIGBY AND LALLIE JOY ALL STANDING IN ADMIRING GROUPS AND THRILLING WITH DELIGHT AT THE ORDER OF EVENTS. MOTHER CAREY SAT BY THE FIREPLACE LITTLE PETER FAIRLY RADIANT WITH EXCITEMENT LEANING AGAINST HER KNEE AND WAITING FOR HIS OWN GREAT MOMENT NOW CLOSE AT HAND. WHEN YE COME INTO A HOUSE SALUTE IT AND IF THE HOUSE BE WORTHY LET YOUR PEACE COME UPON IT. TO ALL THOSE WHO MAY DWELL THEREIN FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION MAY IT BE A HOUSE OF GOD A GATE OF HEAVEN. FOR EVERY HOUSE IS BUILDED BY SOME MAN BUT HE THAT BUILT ALL THINGS IS GOD SEEING THAT HE GIVETH TO EVERY ONE OF US LIFE AND BREATH AND ALL GOOD THINGS. MOTHER CAREY SPOKE THESE WORDS SO SIMPLY AND NATURALLY AS SHE LOOKED TOWARDS HER NEIGHBORS ONE AFTER ANOTHER WITH HER HAND RESTING ON PETER'S CURLY HEAD THAT THEY HARDLY KNEW WHETHER TO KEEP QUIET OR SAY AMEN. WAS THAT THE BIBLE OSH WHISPERED BILL HARMON. DON'T KNOW MOST EVERYTHING SHE SAYS SOUNDS LIKE THE BIBLE OR SHAKESPEARE TO ME. IN THE HUSH THAT FOLLOWED MOTHER CAREY'S SALUTATION GILBERT APPROACHED WITH A BASKET OVER HIS ARM AND QUICKLY AND NEATLY LAID A LITTLE FIRE BEHIND THE BRASS ANDIRONS ON THE HEARTH. THEN NANCY HANDED PETER A LOOSELY BOUND SHEAF SAYING TO LIGHT THIS FIRE I GIVE YOU A TORCH IN IT ARE HERBS OF THE FIELD FOR HEALTH OF THE BODY A FERN LEAF FOR GRACE A SPRIG OF ELM FOR PEACE ONE OF OAK FOR STRENGTH WITH EVERGREEN TO SHOW THAT WE LIVE FOREVER IN THE DEEDS WE HAVE DONE. KATHLEEN WAVED THE TORCH TO AND FRO AS SHE RECITED SOME BEAUTIFUL LINES WRITTEN FOR SOME SUCH PURPOSE AS THAT WHICH CALLED THEM TOGETHER TO NIGHT. BURN FIRE BURN FLICKER FLICKER FLAME. WHOSE HAND ABOVE THIS BLAZE IS LIFTED SHALL BE WITH TOUCH OF MAGIC GIFTED TO WARM THE HEARTS OF CHILLY MORTALS WHO STAND WITHOUT THESE OPEN PORTALS. THE TOUCH SHALL DRAW THEM TO THIS FIRE NIGHER NIGHER BY DESIRE. WHOSO SHALL STAND ON THIS HEARTH STONE FLAME FANNED SHALL NEVER NEVER STAND ALONE. WHOSE HOME IS DARK AND DREAR AND OLD WHOSE HEARTH IS COLD THIS IS HIS OWN. FLICKER FLICKER FLICKER FLAME. NEXT CAME OLIVE'S TURN TO HELP IN THE CEREMONIES. RALPH THURSTON HAD FOUND A LINE OF LATIN FOR THEM IN HIS BELOVED HORACE TIBI SPLENDET FOCUS FOR YOU THE HEARTH FIRE SHINES. OLIVE HAD PAINTED THE MOTTO ON A LONG NARROW PANEL OF CANVAS AND GIVING IT TO MISTER POPHAM STOOD BY THE FIRESIDE WHILE HE DEFTLY FITTED IT INTO THE PLACE PREPARED FOR IT. THE FAMILY HAD FEARED THAT HE WOULD TELL A GOOD STORY WHEN HE FOUND HIMSELF THE CENTRE OF ATTRACTION BUT HE WAS AS DUMB AS PETER AND FOR THE SAME REASON" }, { "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "chapter": "28233", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5105/28233/28233_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "c0a7bbeb183aa2b40e7561393f5d43e80d795c0edba680d047ddf9c32c63ff9f", "seconds": 232.73, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 25.2, 25.2, 26.4, 21.8, 24.5, 24.7, 23.6, 25.1, 24.5, 25.2, 25.6, 24.9, 24.7, 24.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 8, "reference": "CAPTAIN SERVADAC AND HIS ORDERLY. AT THE TIME OF WHICH I WRITE THERE MIGHT BE SEEN IN THE REGISTERS OF THE MINISTER OF WAR THE FOLLOWING ENTRY. PROPERTY TWELVE HUNDRED FRANCS IN RENTES. LENGTH OF SERVICE FOURTEEN YEARS THREE MONTHS AND FIVE DAYS. RANK CAPTAIN ON THE STAFF AT MOSTAGANEM. HECTOR SERVADAC WAS THIRTY YEARS OF AGE AN ORPHAN WITHOUT LINEAGE AND ALMOST WITHOUT MEANS. THIRSTING FOR GLORY RATHER THAN FOR GOLD SLIGHTLY SCATTER BRAINED BUT WARM HEARTED GENEROUS AND BRAVE HE WAS EMINENTLY FORMED TO BE THE PROTEGE OF THE GOD OF BATTLES. FOR THE FIRST YEAR AND A HALF OF HIS EXISTENCE HE HAD BEEN THE FOSTER CHILD OF THE STURDY WIFE OF A VINE DRESSER OF MEDOC A LINEAL DESCENDANT OF THE HEROES OF ANCIENT PROWESS IN A WORD HE WAS ONE OF THOSE INDIVIDUALS WHOM NATURE SEEMS TO HAVE PREDESTINED FOR REMARKABLE THINGS AND AROUND WHOSE CRADLE HAVE HOVERED THE FAIRY GODMOTHERS OF ADVENTURE AND GOOD LUCK. IN APPEARANCE HECTOR SERVADAC WAS QUITE THE TYPE OF AN OFFICER HE WAS RATHER MORE THAN FIVE FEET SIX INCHES HIGH SLIM AND GRACEFUL WITH DARK CURLING HAIR AND MUSTACHES WELL FORMED HANDS AND FEET AND A CLEAR BLUE EYE. HE SEEMED BORN TO PLEASE WITHOUT BEING CONSCIOUS OF THE POWER HE POSSESSED. IT MUST BE OWNED AND NO ONE WAS MORE READY TO CONFESS IT THAN HIMSELF THAT HIS LITERARY ATTAINMENTS WERE BY NO MEANS OF A HIGH ORDER. WE DON'T SPIN TOPS IS A FAVORITE SAYING AMONGST ARTILLERY OFFICERS INDICATING THAT THEY DO NOT SHIRK THEIR DUTY BY FRIVOLOUS PURSUITS BUT IT MUST BE CONFESSED THAT SERVADAC BEING NATURALLY IDLE WAS VERY MUCH GIVEN TO SPINNING TOPS. HIS GOOD ABILITIES HOWEVER AND HIS READY INTELLIGENCE HAD CARRIED HIM SUCCESSFULLY THROUGH THE CURRICULUM OF HIS EARLY CAREER. HE WAS A GOOD DRAUGHTSMAN AN EXCELLENT RIDER HAVING THOROUGHLY MASTERED THE SUCCESSOR TO THE FAMOUS UNCLE TOM AT THE RIDING SCHOOL OF SAINT CYR AND IN THE RECORDS OF HIS MILITARY SERVICE HIS NAME HAD SEVERAL TIMES BEEN INCLUDED IN THE ORDER OF THE DAY. ONCE IN ACTION HE WAS LEADING A DETACHMENT OF INFANTRY THROUGH AN INTRENCHMENT. IN AN INSTANT SERVADAC MOUNTED THE SIDE WORK LAID HIMSELF DOWN IN THE GAP AND THUS FILLING UP THE BREACH BY HIS OWN BODY SHOUTED MARCH ON. AND THROUGH A STORM OF SHOT NOT ONE OF WHICH TOUCHED THE PROSTRATE OFFICER THE TROOP PASSED IN SAFETY. SOMETIMES HE WOULD WANDER ON FOOT UPON THE SANDY SHORE AND SOMETIMES HE WOULD ENJOY A RIDE ALONG THE SUMMIT OF THE CLIFF ALTOGETHER BEING IN NO HURRY AT ALL TO BRING HIS TASK TO AN END. CAPTAIN SERVADAC HAD NOT YET VENTURED TO DECLARE HIS ATTACHMENT OF RIVALS HE WAS WELL AWARE HE HAD NOT A FEW AND AMONGST THESE NOT THE LEAST FORMIDABLE WAS THE RUSSIAN COUNT TIMASCHEFF. AND ALTHOUGH THE YOUNG WIDOW WAS ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF THE SHARE SHE HAD IN THE MATTER IT WAS SHE AND SHE ALONE WHO WAS THE CAUSE OF THE CHALLENGE JUST GIVEN AND ACCEPTED BY HER TWO ARDENT ADMIRERS. DURING HIS RESIDENCE IN THE GOURBI HECTOR SERVADAC'S SOLE COMPANION WAS HIS ORDERLY BEN ZOOF. BEN ZOOF WAS DEVOTED BODY AND SOUL TO HIS SUPERIOR OFFICER. HIS NAME MIGHT SEEM TO IMPLY THAT HE WAS A NATIVE OF ALGERIA BUT SUCH WAS BY NO MEANS THE CASE. IN ALL HIS TRAVELS AND THESE HAD BEEN NOT A FEW HE HAD NEVER BEHELD SCENERY WHICH COULD COMPETE WITH THAT OF HIS NATIVE HOME. NO CATHEDRAL NOT EVEN BURGOS ITSELF COULD VIE WITH THE CHURCH AT MONTMARTRE. ITS RACE COURSE COULD WELL HOLD ITS OWN AGAINST THAT AT PENTELIQUE ITS RESERVOIR WOULD THROW THE MEDITERRANEAN INTO THE SHADE ITS FORESTS HAD FLOURISHED LONG BEFORE THE INVASION OF THE CELTS AND ITS VERY MILL PRODUCED NO ORDINARY FLOUR BUT PROVIDED MATERIAL FOR CAKES OF WORLD WIDE RENOWN" }, { "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "chapter": "28240", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5105/28240/28240_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "bd94530bd77f9b655e0957fe23659b544341d4fe6616670b55d48fd9d0651f7a", "seconds": 233.94, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 27.3, 30.1, 30.7, 29.6, 29.1, 29.2, 29.5, 30.5, 29.2, 29.4, 28.1, 30.2, 29.4, 28.9, 29.9, 28.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "INQUIRIES UNSATISFIED. FAST AS HIS LEGS COULD CARRY HIM SERVADAC HAD MADE HIS WAY TO THE TOP OF THE CLIFF. IT WAS QUITE TRUE THAT A VESSEL WAS IN SIGHT HARDLY MORE THAN SIX MILES FROM THE SHORE BUT OWING TO THE INCREASE IN THE EARTH'S CONVEXITY AND THE CONSEQUENT LIMITATION OF THE RANGE OF VISION THE RIGGING OF THE TOPMASTS ALONE WAS VISIBLE ABOVE THE WATER. THIS WAS ENOUGH HOWEVER TO INDICATE THAT THE SHIP WAS A SCHOONER AN IMPRESSION THAT WAS CONFIRMED WHEN TWO HOURS LATER SHE CAME ENTIRELY IN SIGHT THE DOBRYNA. EXCLAIMED SERVADAC KEEPING HIS EYE UNMOVED AT HIS TELESCOPE. IMPOSSIBLE SIR REJOINED BEN ZOOF THERE ARE NO SIGNS OF SMOKE THE DOBRYNA. REPEATED THE CAPTAIN POSITIVELY. SHE IS UNDER SAIL BUT SHE IS COUNT TIMASCHEFF'S YACHT HE WAS RIGHT. IF THE COUNT WERE ON BOARD A STRANGE FATALITY WAS BRINGING HIM TO THE PRESENCE OF HIS RIVAL. BUT NO LONGER NOW COULD SERVADAC REGARD HIM IN THE LIGHT OF AN ADVERSARY CIRCUMSTANCES HAD CHANGED AND ALL ANIMOSITY WAS ABSORBED IN THE EAGERNESS WITH WHICH HE HAILED THE PROSPECT OF OBTAINING SOME INFORMATION ABOUT THE RECENT STARTLING AND INEXPLICABLE EVENTS. DURING THE TWENTY SEVEN DAYS THAT SHE HAD BEEN ABSENT THE DOBRYNA HE CONJECTURED WOULD HAVE EXPLORED THE MEDITERRANEAN WOULD VERY PROBABLY HAVE VISITED SPAIN FRANCE OR ITALY AND ACCORDINGLY WOULD CONVEY TO GOURBI ISLAND SOME INTELLIGENCE FROM ONE OR OTHER OF THOSE COUNTRIES. HE RECKONED THEREFORE NOT ONLY UPON ASCERTAINING THE EXTENT OF THE LATE CATASTROPHE BUT UPON LEARNING ITS CAUSE. COUNT TIMASCHEFF WAS NO DOUBT MAGNANIMOUSLY COMING TO THE RESCUE OF HIMSELF AND HIS ORDERLY. THE WIND BEING ADVERSE THE DOBRYNA DID NOT MAKE VERY RAPID PROGRESS BUT AS THE WEATHER IN SPITE OF A FEW CLOUDS REMAINED CALM AND THE SEA WAS QUITE SMOOTH SHE WAS ENABLED TO HOLD A STEADY COURSE. IT SEEMED UNACCOUNTABLE THAT SHE SHOULD NOT USE HER ENGINE AS WHOEVER WAS ON BOARD WOULD BE NATURALLY IMPATIENT TO RECONNOITER THE NEW ISLAND WHICH MUST JUST HAVE COME WITHIN THEIR VIEW. THE PROBABILITY THAT SUGGESTED ITSELF WAS THAT THE SCHOONER'S FUEL WAS EXHAUSTED. SERVADAC TOOK IT FOR GRANTED THAT THE DOBRYNA WAS ENDEAVORING TO PUT IN. IT OCCURRED TO HIM HOWEVER THAT THE COUNT ON DISCOVERING AN ISLAND WHERE HE HAD EXPECTED TO FIND THE MAINLAND OF AFRICA WOULD NOT UNLIKELY BE AT A LOSS FOR A PLACE OF ANCHORAGE. ZEPHYR AND GALETTE WERE SOON SADDLED AND IN TWENTY MINUTES HAD CARRIED THEIR RIDERS TO THE WESTERN EXTREMITY OF THE ISLAND WHERE THEY BOTH DISMOUNTED AND BEGAN TO EXPLORE THE COAST. THEY WERE NOT LONG IN ASCERTAINING THAT ON THE FARTHER SIDE OF THE POINT THERE WAS A SMALL WELL SHELTERED CREEK OF SUFFICIENT DEPTH TO ACCOMMODATE A VESSEL OF MODERATE TONNAGE. A NARROW CHANNEL FORMED A PASSAGE THROUGH THE RIDGE OF ROCKS THAT PROTECTED IT FROM THE OPEN SEA AND WHICH EVEN IN THE ROUGHEST WEATHER WOULD ENSURE THE CALMNESS OF ITS WATERS. WHAT HOWEVER SEEMED MOST REMARKABLE WAS THE MANIFEST EVIDENCE THAT EVER SINCE THE HIGHEST FLOOD WHICH WAS CAUSED IN ALL PROBABILITY BY THE PROXIMITY OF THE BODY OF WHICH THE HUGE DISC HAD BEEN SO CONSPICUOUS ON THE NIGHT OF THE THIRTY FIRST OF DECEMBER THE PHENOMENON HAD BEEN GRADUALLY LESSENING AND IN FACT WAS NOW REDUCED TO THE NORMAL LIMITS WHICH HAD CHARACTERIZED IT BEFORE THE CONVULSION. WITHOUT DOING MORE THAN NOTE THE CIRCUMSTANCE SERVADAC TURNED HIS ENTIRE ATTENTION TO THE DOBRYNA WHICH NOW LITTLE MORE THAN A MILE FROM SHORE COULD NOT FAIL TO SEE AND UNDERSTAND HIS SIGNALS. SLIGHTLY CHANGING HER COURSE SHE FIRST STRUCK HER MAINSAIL AND IN ORDER TO FACILITATE THE MOVEMENTS OF HER HELMSMAN SOON CARRIED NOTHING BUT HER TWO TOPSAILS BRIGANTINE AND JIB" }, { "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "chapter": "28241", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5105/28241/28241_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "7a1f6fd15271917caa6b25c79e545d009856a10f036d99e035e547f7f5a8306f", "seconds": 235.99, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 24.3, 24.2, 24.1, 24.6, 24.5, 24.6, 24.5, 24.8, 24.4, 24.1, 24.3, 24.3, 24.1, 24.4, 24.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 15, "reference": "THE DOBRYNA A STRONG CRAFT OF TWO HUNDRED TONS BURDEN HAD BEEN BUILT IN THE FAMOUS SHIPBUILDING YARDS IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT. HER SEA GOING QUALITIES WERE EXCELLENT AND WOULD HAVE AMPLY SUFFICED FOR A CIRCUMNAVIGATION OF THE GLOBE. COUNT TIMASCHEFF WAS HIMSELF NO SAILOR BUT HAD THE GREATEST CONFIDENCE IN LEAVING THE COMMAND OF HIS YACHT IN THE HANDS OF LIEUTENANT PROCOPE A MAN OF ABOUT THIRTY YEARS OF AGE AND AN EXCELLENT SEAMAN. BORN ON THE COUNT'S ESTATES THE SON OF A SERF WHO HAD BEEN EMANCIPATED LONG BEFORE THE FAMOUS EDICT OF THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER PROCOPE WAS SINCERELY ATTACHED BY A TIE OF GRATITUDE AS WELL AS OF DUTY AND AFFECTION TO HIS PATRON'S SERVICE. AFTER AN APPRENTICESHIP ON A MERCHANT SHIP HE HAD ENTERED THE IMPERIAL NAVY AND HAD ALREADY REACHED THE RANK OF LIEUTENANT WHEN THE COUNT APPOINTED HIM TO THE CHARGE OF HIS OWN PRIVATE YACHT IN WHICH HE WAS ACCUSTOMED TO SPEND BY FAR THE GREATER PART OF HIS TIME THROUGHOUT THE WINTER GENERALLY CRUISING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN WHILST IN THE SUMMER HE VISITED MORE NORTHERN WATERS. THE SHIP COULD NOT HAVE BEEN IN BETTER HANDS. THE LIEUTENANT WAS WELL INFORMED IN MANY MATTERS OUTSIDE THE PALE OF HIS PROFESSION AND HIS ATTAINMENTS WERE ALIKE CREDITABLE TO HIMSELF AND TO THE LIBERAL FRIEND WHO HAD GIVEN HIM HIS EDUCATION. THESE MEN WITHOUT EXCEPTION WERE ALL SONS OF THE COUNT'S TENANTS AND SO TENACIOUSLY EVEN OUT AT SEA DID THEY CLING TO THEIR OLD TRADITIONS THAT IT MATTERED LITTLE TO THEM WHAT PHYSICAL DISORGANIZATION ENSUED SO LONG AS THEY FELT THEY WERE SHARING THE EXPERIENCES OF THEIR LORD AND MASTER. THE LATE ASTOUNDING EVENTS HOWEVER HAD RENDERED PROCOPE MANIFESTLY UNEASY AND NOT THE LESS SO FROM HIS CONSCIOUSNESS THAT THE COUNT SECRETLY PARTOOK OF HIS OWN ANXIETY. STEAM UP AND CANVAS SPREAD THE SCHOONER STARTED EASTWARDS. WITH A FAVORABLE WIND SHE WOULD CERTAINLY HAVE MADE ELEVEN KNOTS AN HOUR HAD NOT THE HIGH WAVES SOMEWHAT IMPEDED HER PROGRESS. ALTHOUGH ONLY A MODERATE BREEZE WAS BLOWING THE SEA WAS ROUGH A CIRCUMSTANCE TO BE ACCOUNTED FOR ONLY BY THE DIMINUTION IN THE FORCE OF THE EARTH'S ATTRACTION RENDERING THE LIQUID PARTICLES SO BUOYANT THAT BY THE MERE EFFECT OF OSCILLATION THEY WERE CARRIED TO A HEIGHT THAT WAS QUITE UNPRECEDENTED. FOR A FEW MILES SHE FOLLOWED THE LINE HITHERTO PRESUMABLY OCCUPIED BY THE COAST OF ALGERIA BUT NO LAND APPEARED TO THE SOUTH. HAPPILY THE RECENT PHENOMENA HAD NO EFFECT UPON THE COMPASS THE MAGNETIC NEEDLE WHICH IN THESE REGIONS HAD POINTED ABOUT TWENTY TWO DEGREES FROM THE NORTH POLE HAD NEVER DEVIATED IN THE LEAST A PROOF THAT ALTHOUGH EAST AND WEST HAD APPARENTLY CHANGED PLACES NORTH AND SOUTH CONTINUED TO RETAIN THEIR NORMAL POSITION AS CARDINAL POINTS. THE LOG AND THE COMPASS THEREFORE WERE ABLE TO BE CALLED UPON TO DO THE WORK OF THE SEXTANT WHICH HAD BECOME UTTERLY USELESS. ON THE FIRST MORNING OF THE CRUISE LIEUTENANT PROCOPE WHO LIKE MOST RUSSIANS SPOKE FRENCH FLUENTLY WAS EXPLAINING THESE PECULIARITIES TO CAPTAIN SERVADAC THE COUNT WAS PRESENT AND THE CONVERSATION PERPETUALLY RECURRED AS NATURALLY IT WOULD TO THE PHENOMENA WHICH REMAINED SO INEXPLICABLE TO THEM ALL. IT IS VERY EVIDENT SAID THE LIEUTENANT THAT EVER SINCE THE FIRST OF JANUARY THE EARTH HAS BEEN MOVING IN A NEW ORBIT AND FROM SOME UNKNOWN CAUSE HAS DRAWN NEARER TO THE SUN. NO DOUBT ABOUT THAT SAID SERVADAC AND I SUPPOSE THAT HAVING CROSSED THE ORBIT OF VENUS WE HAVE A GOOD CHANCE OF RUNNING INTO THE ORBIT OF MERCURY. AND FINISH UP BY A COLLISION WITH THE SUN ADDED THE COUNT. THERE IS NO FEAR OF THAT SIR. THE EARTH HAS UNDOUBTEDLY ENTERED UPON A NEW ORBIT BUT SHE IS NOT INCURRING ANY PROBABLE RISK OF BEING PRECIPITATED ONTO THE SUN. CAN YOU SATISFY US OF THAT ASKED THE COUNT I CAN SIR" }, { "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "chapter": "33396", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5142/33396/33396_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "a9a45031372b9df5e97e1b12ed5cc6a9580effb659f637eb295e8d5121fa187e", "seconds": 236.91, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 47.4, 48.3, 46.7, 42.5, 47.2, 46.4, 47.3, 46.3, 46.3, 47.1, 45.0, 46.1, 50.6, 47.8, 45.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "AT ANOTHER TIME HARALD ASKED. WHAT IS YOUR COUNTRY OLAF HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN A THRALL THE THRALL'S EYES FLASHED. THERE FAR OFF IS MY COUNTRY ACROSS THE WATER. MY FATHER WAS GUDBRAND THE BIG. TWO HUNDRED WARRIORS FEASTED IN HIS HALL AND FOLLOWED HIM TO BATTLE. TEN SONS SAT AT MEAT WITH HIM AND I WAS THE YOUNGEST ONE DAY HE SAID. YOU ARE ALL GROWN TO BE MEN THERE IS NOT ELBOW ROOM HERE FOR SO MANY CHIEFS. THE ELDEST OF YOU SHALL HAVE MY FARM WHEN I DIE. THE REST OF YOU OFF A VIKING HE HAD THREE SHIPS. THESE HE GAVE TO THREE OF MY BROTHERS. BUT I STAYED THAT SPRING AND BUILT ME A BOAT. I MADE HER FOR ONLY TWENTY OARS BECAUSE I THOUGHT FEW MEN WOULD FOLLOW ME FOR I WAS YOUNG FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. I MADE HER IN THE LIKENESS OF A DRAGON. AT THE PROW I CARVED THE HEAD WITH OPEN MOUTH AND FORKED TONGUE THRUST OUT. I PAINTED THE EYES RED FOR ANGER. THERE STAND SO I SAID AND GLARE AND HISS AT MY FOES. IN THE STERN I CURVED THE TAIL UP ALMOST AS HIGH AS THE HEAD. THERE I PUT THE PILOT'S SEAT AND A STRONG TILLER FOR THE RUDDER ON THE BREAST AND SIDES I CARVED THE DRAGON'S SCALES. THERE SHE SAT ON THE ROLLERS AS FAIR A SHIP AS I EVER SAW. THIS IS MY VOW I WILL SAIL TO NORWAY AND I WILL HARRY THE COAST AND FILL MY BOAT WITH RICHES. THEN I WILL GET ME A FARM AND WILL WINTER IN THAT LAND NOW WHO WILL FOLLOW ME. HE IS BUT A BOY THE MEN SAID. THIRTY MEN ONE AFTER ANOTHER RAISED THEIR HORNS AND SAID. ON THE NEXT MORNING WE GOT INTO MY DRAGON AND STARTED I SAT HIGH IN THE PILOT'S SEAT. AS OUR BOAT FLASHED DOWN THE ROLLERS INTO THE WATER I MADE THIS SONG AND SANG IT. THE DRAGON RUNS WHERE WILL SHE STEER WHERE SWORDS WILL SING WHERE SPEARS WILL BITE WHERE I SHALL LAUGH. SO WE HARRIED THE COAST OF NORWAY. WE ATE AT MANY MEN'S TABLES UNINVITED. MANY MEN WE FOUND OVERBURDENED WITH GOLD THEN I SAID. MY DRAGON'S BELLY IS NEVER FULL AND ON BOARD WENT THE GOLD. OH IT IS BETTER TO LIVE ON THE SEA AND LET OTHER MEN RAISE YOUR CROPS AND COOK YOUR MEALS. A HOUSE SMELLS OF SMOKE A SHIP SMELLS OF FROLIC. FROM A HOUSE YOU SEE A SOOTY ROOF FROM A SHIP YOU SEE VALHALLA. UP AND DOWN THE WATER WE WENT TO GET MUCH WEALTH AND MUCH FROLIC. WHAT OF THE FARM OLAF NOT YET I ANSWERED VIKING IS BETTER FOR SUMMER. IT WAS SO DARK THAT I COULD SEE NOTHING BUT A FEW SPARKS ON THE HEARTH. I STOOD WITH MY BACK TO THE WALL FOR I WANTED NO SWORD REACHING OUT OF THE DARK FOR ME. NOW START UP THE FIRE I SAID. COME COME I CALLED WHEN NO ONE OBEYED A FIRE. MY MEN LAUGHED YES A STINGY HOST. HE ACTS AS THOUGH HE HAD NOT EXPECTED US. BUT NOW THE FARMER WAS BLOWING ON THE COALS AND PUTTING ON FRESH WOOD. ON A BENCH IN A FAR CORNER WERE A DOZEN PEOPLE HUDDLED TOGETHER. HO THRALLS I CALLED TO THEM. BRING IN THE TABLE WE ARE HUNGRY. WHAT MAN WANTS TO SPEND THE WINTER WITH NO GUESTS. THE THRALLS WERE BRINGING IN A GREAT POT OF MEAT. THEY SET UP A CRANE OVER THE FIRE AND HUNG THE POT UPON IT AND WE SAT AND WATCHED IT BOIL WHILE WE JOKED AT LAST THE SUPPER BEGAN. THE FARMER SAT GLOOMILY ON THE BENCH AND WOULD NOT EAT AND YOU CANNOT WONDER FOR HE SAW US PUTTING POTFULS OF HIS GOOD BEEF AND BASKET LOADS OF BREAD INTO OUR BIG MOUTHS. YOU WOULD NOT EAT WITH US YOU CANNOT SAY NO TO HALF OF MY ALE I DRINK THIS TO YOUR HEALTH. THEN I DRANK HALF OF THE HORNFUL AND SENT THE REST ACROSS THE FIRE TO THE FARMER HE TOOK IT AND SMILED SAYING. I THOUGHT THAT ALL THIS NIGHT'S WORK WOULD BE MY DEATH OH DO NOT FEAR THAT I LAUGHED FOR A DEAD MAN SETS NO TABLES. SO WE DRANK AND ALL GREW MERRIER AT LAST I STOOD UP AND SAID. COME THEY CRIED THANK HIM FOR THAT FARMER. DID YOU EVER HAVE SUCH A LORDLY GUEST BEFORE I WENT ON. SO I WILL GIVE OUT THIS LAW THAT MY MEN SHALL NEVER LEAVE YOU ALONE. HAKON THERE SHALL BE YOUR CONSTANT COMPANION FRIEND FARMER. HE SHALL NOT LEAVE YOU DAY OR NIGHT WHETHER YOU ARE WORKING OR PLAYING OR SLEEPING. I NAMED NINE OTHERS AND SAID. AND THESE SHALL FOLLOW YOUR THRALLS IN THE SAME WAY. SO I SET GUARDS OVER EVERY ONE IN THAT HOUSE" }, { "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "chapter": "36377", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5142/36377/36377_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "1a0d3b60797b6bc5680aae7b56c068e204589ef035c2221ee55d1c6fd2b9076c", "seconds": 235.97, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 32.4, 35.8, 36.5, 34.9, 38.9, 42.8, 37.9, 41.7, 38.1, 154.7, 42.4, 36.4, 37.8, 35.4, 39.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "MY SPIRITS SANK AS I LOOKED ROUND ME SUPPER TIME WAS STILL AN EVENT IN THE FUTURE I LIGHTED THE CANDLES AND TOOK FROM MY PORTMANTEAU WHAT I FIRMLY BELIEVE TO HAVE BEEN THE FIRST FRENCH NOVEL EVER PRODUCED AT MORWICK FARM. IT WAS ONE OF THE MASTERLY AND CHARMING STORIES OF DUMAS THE ELDER. IN FIVE MINUTES I WAS IN A NEW WORLD AND MY MELANCHOLY ROOM WAS FULL OF THE LIVELIEST FRENCH COMPANY. THE SOUND OF AN IMPERATIVE AND UNCOMPROMISING BELL RECALLED ME IN DUE TIME TO THE REGIONS OF REALITY. I LOOKED AT MY WATCH NINE O'CLOCK. AMBROSE MET ME AT THE BOTTOM OF THE STAIRS AND SHOWED ME THE WAY TO THE SUPPER ROOM. MISTER MEADOWCROFT'S INVALID CHAIR HAD BEEN WHEELED TO THE HEAD OF THE TABLE ON HIS RIGHT HAND SIDE SAT HIS SAD AND SILENT DAUGHTER. SHE SIGNED TO ME WITH A GHOSTLY SOLEMNITY TO TAKE THE VACANT PLACE ON THE LEFT OF HER FATHER. THE DOOR OPENED AGAIN WHILE I WAS STILL STUDYING THE TWO BROTHERS WITHOUT I HONESTLY CONFESS BEING VERY FAVORABLY IMPRESSED BY EITHER OF THEM. A NEW MEMBER OF THE FAMILY CIRCLE WHO INSTANTLY ATTRACTED MY ATTENTION ENTERED THE ROOM. A LITTLE CRACKED THAT IN THE POPULAR PHRASE WAS MY IMPRESSION OF THE STRANGER WHO NOW MADE HIS APPEARANCE IN THE SUPPER ROOM. MISTER MEADOWCROFT THE ELDER HAVING NOT SPOKEN ONE WORD THUS FAR HIMSELF INTRODUCED THE NEWCOMER TO ME WITH A SIDE GLANCE AT HIS SONS WHICH HAD SOMETHING LIKE DEFIANCE IN IT A GLANCE WHICH AS I WAS SORRY TO NOTICE WAS RETURNED WITH THE DEFIANCE ON THEIR SIDE BY THE TWO YOUNG MEN. PHILIP LEFRANK THIS IS MY OVERLOOKER MISTER JAGO SAID THE OLD MAN FORMALLY PRESENTING US. HE IS NOT WELL HE HAS COME OVER THE OCEAN FOR REST AND CHANGE OF SCENE. MISTER JAGO IS AN AMERICAN PHILIP. I HOPE YOU HAVE NO PREJUDICE AGAINST AMERICANS. MAKE ACQUAINTANCE WITH MISTER JAGO SIT TOGETHER. THEY POINTEDLY DREW BACK FROM JOHN JAGO AS HE APPROACHED THE EMPTY CHAIR NEXT TO ME AND MOVED ROUND TO THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE TABLE. WAS THE YOUNG LADY NAOMI COLEBROOK I LOOKED AT AMBROSE AND SAW THE ANSWER IN HIS FACE NAOMI COLEBROOK AT LAST. A PRETTY GIRL AND SO FAR AS I COULD JUDGE BY APPEARANCES A GOOD GIRL TOO DESCRIBING HER GENERALLY I MAY SAY THAT SHE HAD A SMALL HEAD WELL CARRIED AND WELL SET ON HER SHOULDERS BRIGHT GRAY EYES THAT LOOKED AT YOU HONESTLY AND MEANT WHAT THEY LOOKED A TRIM SLIGHT LITTLE FIGURE TOO SLIGHT FOR OUR ENGLISH NOTIONS OF BEAUTY A STRONG AMERICAN ACCENT AND A RARE THING IN AMERICA A PLEASANTLY TONED VOICE WHICH MADE THE ACCENT AGREEABLE TO ENGLISH EARS. OUR FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF PEOPLE ARE IN NINE CASES OUT OF TEN THE RIGHT IMPRESSIONS. FOR ONCE IN A WAY I PROVED A TRUE PROPHET. AMBROSE MADE ROOM FOR NAOMI TO SIT BETWEEN HIS BROTHER AND HIMSELF. THE ONLY CHEERFUL CONVERSATION WAS THE CONVERSATION ACROSS THE TABLE BETWEEN NAOMI AND ME. HE LOOKED UP AT NAOMI DOUBTINGLY FROM HIS PLATE AND LOOKED DOWN AGAIN SLOWLY WITH A FROWN. WHEN I ADDRESSED HIM HE ANSWERED CONSTRAINEDLY. BY WAY OF MAKING MY FIRST EVENING AT THE FARM ALL THE MORE EMBARRASSING TO ME AS A STRANGER I DISCOVERED BEFORE LONG THAT THE FATHER AND SONS WERE TALKING INDIRECTLY AT EACH OTHER THROUGH MISTER JAGO AND THROUGH ME. EVERY TIME SHE TOOK A PROMINENT PART IN THIS WAY IN KEEPING THE PEACE MELANCHOLY MISS MEADOWCROFT LOOKED SLOWLY ROUND AT HER IN STERN AND SILENT DISPARAGEMENT OF HER INTERFERENCE. A MORE DREARY AND MORE DISUNITED FAMILY PARTY I NEVER SAT AT THE TABLE WITH. ENVY HATRED MALICE AND UNCHARITABLENESS ARE NEVER SO ESSENTIALLY DETESTABLE TO MY MIND AS WHEN THEY ARE ANIMATED BY A SENSE OF PROPRIETY AND WORK UNDER THE SURFACE BUT FOR MY INTEREST IN NAOMI AND MY OTHER INTEREST IN THE LITTLE LOVE LOOKS WHICH I NOW AND THEN SURPRISED PASSING BETWEEN HER AND AMBROSE I SHOULD NEVER HAVE SAT THROUGH THAT SUPPER. I WISH YOU GOOD NIGHT SHE LAID HER BONY HANDS ON THE BACK OF MISTER MEADOWCROFT'S INVALID CHAIR CUT HIM SHORT IN HIS FAREWELL SALUTATION TO ME AND WHEELED HIM OUT TO HIS BED AS IF SHE WERE WHEELING HIM OUT TO HIS GRAVE. DO YOU GO TO YOUR ROOM IMMEDIATELY SIR IF NOT MAY I OFFER YOU A CIGAR PROVIDED THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN WILL PERMIT IT SO PICKING HIS WORDS WITH PAINFUL DELIBERATION AND POINTING HIS REFERENCE TO THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN WITH ONE SARDONIC SIDE LOOK AT THEM MISTER JOHN JAGO PERFORMED THE DUTIES OF HOSPITALITY ON HIS SIDE I EXCUSED MYSELF FROM ACCEPTING THE CIGAR. YOU WERE QUITE RIGHT TO SAY NO AMBROSE BEGAN NEVER SMOKE WITH JOHN JAGO HIS CIGARS WILL POISON YOU" }, { "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "chapter": "40744", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5639/40744/40744_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "b1a13d5a043f383221b72bf08f24a8aa4be106cb34bb50e6a7a0fee98956889c", "seconds": 236.83, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 51.5, 58.3, 57.0, 56.6, 58.3, 56.3, 60.2, 48.6, 56.1, 71.8, 68.6, 58.6, 54.3, 66.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "ELEVEN O'CLOCK HAD STRUCK IT WAS A FINE CLEAR NIGHT THEY WERE THE ONLY PERSONS ON THE ROAD AND THEY SAUNTERED LEISURELY ALONG TO AVOID PAYING THE PRICE OF FATIGUE FOR THE RECREATION PROVIDED FOR THE TOLEDANS IN THEIR VALLEY OR ON THE BANKS OF THEIR RIVER. SECURE AS HE THOUGHT IN THE CAREFUL ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE IN THAT CITY AND THE CHARACTER OF ITS WELL DISPOSED INHABITANTS THE GOOD HIDALGO WAS FAR FROM THINKING THAT ANY DISASTER COULD BEFAL HIS FAMILY. THIS YOUNG CAVALIER WHOSE REAL NAME WE SHALL FOR GOOD REASONS CONCEAL UNDER THAT OF RODOLFO WAS ABROAD THAT NIGHT WITH FOUR OF HIS COMPANIONS INSOLENT YOUNG ROISTERERS LIKE HIMSELF AND HAPPENED TO BE COMING DOWN A HILL AS THE OLD HIDALGO AND HIS FAMILY WERE ASCENDING IT. THE TWO PARTIES THE SHEEP AND THE WOLVES MET EACH OTHER. RODOLFO AND HIS COMPANIONS WITH THEIR FACES MUFFLED IN THEIR CLOAKS STARED RUDELY AND INSOLENTLY AT THE MOTHER THE DAUGHTER AND THE SERVANT MAID. THE OLD HIDALGO INDIGNANTLY REMONSTRATED THEY ANSWERED HIM WITH MOCKS AND JEERS AND PASSED ON. BUT RODOLFO HAD BEEN STRUCK BY THE GREAT BEAUTY OF LEOCADIA THE HIDALGO'S DAUGHTER AND PRESENTLY HE BEGAN TO ENTERTAIN THE IDEA OF ENJOYING IT AT ALL HAZARDS. IN A MOMENT HE COMMUNICATED HIS THOUGHTS TO HIS COMPANIONS AND IN THE NEXT MOMENT THEY RESOLVED TO TURN BACK AND CARRY HER OFF TO PLEASE RODOLFO FOR THE RICH WHO ARE OPEN HANDED ALWAYS FIND PARASITES READY TO ENCOURAGE THEIR BAD PROPENSITIES AND THUS TO CONCEIVE THIS WICKED DESIGN TO COMMUNICATE IT APPROVE IT RESOLVE ON RAVISHING LEOCADIA AND TO CARRY THAT DESIGN INTO EFFECT WAS THE WORK OF A MOMENT. THEY DREW THEIR SWORDS HID THEIR FACES IN THE FLAPS OF THEIR CLOAKS TURNED BACK AND SOON CAME IN FRONT OF THE LITTLE PARTY WHO HAD NOT YET DONE GIVING THANKS TO GOD FOR THEIR ESCAPE FROM THOSE AUDACIOUS MEN. HER FATHER SHOUTED HER MOTHER SHRIEKED HER LITTLE BROTHER CRIED THE SERVANT MAID TORE HER OWN FACE AND HAIR BUT THE SHOUTS AND SHRIEKS WERE DISREGARDED THE WAILINGS MOVED NO PITY THE CLAWING AND SCRATCHING WAS OF NO AVAIL FOR ALL WAS LOST UPON THE LONELINESS OF THE SPOT THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT AND THE CRUEL HEARTS OF THE RAVISHERS. FINALLY THE ONE PARTY WENT OFF EXULTING AND THE OTHER WAS LEFT IN DESOLATION AND WOE. RODOLFO ARRIVED AT HIS OWN HOUSE WITHOUT ANY IMPEDIMENT AND LEOCADIA'S PARENTS REACHED THEIRS HEART BROKEN AND DESPAIRING. MEANWHILE RODOLFO HAD LEOCADIA SAFE IN HIS CUSTODY AND IN HIS OWN APARTMENT. WHEN LEOCADIA FAINTED IN HIS ARMS HE HAD BANDAGED HER EYES IN ORDER THAT SHE MIGHT NOT NOTICE THE STREETS THROUGH WHICH SHE PASSED OR THE HOUSE INTO WHICH HE TOOK HER AND BEFORE SHE RECOVERED HER SENSES HE EFFECTED HIS GUILTY PURPOSE. APATHY AND DISGUST COMMONLY FOLLOW SATIATED LUST. RODOLFO WAS NOW IMPATIENT TO GET RID OF LEOCADIA AND MADE UP HIS MIND TO LAY HER IN THE STREET INSENSIBLE AS SHE WAS. WHO TOUCHES ME AM I IN BED. MOTHER DEAR FATHER DO YOU HEAR ME. ALAS TOO WELL I PERCEIVE THAT YOU CANNOT HEAR ME AND THAT I AM IN THE HANDS OF ENEMIES. WHOEVER THOU ART SHE EXCLAIMED SUDDENLY SEIZING RODOLFO'S HAND IF THY SOUL IS CAPABLE OF PITY GRANT ME ONE PRAYER HAVING DEPRIVED ME OF HONOUR NOW DEPRIVE ME OF LIFE. LET ME NOT SURVIVE MY DISGRACE. IN MERCY KILL ME THIS MOMENT. IT IS THE ONLY AMENDS I ASK OF YOU FOR THE WRONG YOU HAVE DONE ME. CONFUSED BY THE VEHEMENCE OF HER REPROACHES RODOLFO KNEW NOT WHAT TO SAY OR DO AND ANSWERED NOT A WORD. THIS SILENCE SO ASTONISHED LEOCADIA THAT SHE BEGAN TO FANCY SHE WAS DREAMING OR HAUNTED BY A PHANTOM BUT THE HANDS SHE GRASPED WERE OF FLESH AND BLOOD. THIS IS BUT A SMALL RECOMPENSE FOR SO GRIEVOUS A WRONG BUT IT IS THE GREATEST WHICH I CAN ASK OR YOU CAN GRANT ME" }, { "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "chapter": "32865", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5683/32865/32865_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "bf238d5469d90fda5eca8f35c516cdc9cbedd80535d49f5319327e5c2604f619", "seconds": 231.1, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 36.7, 45.4, 39.2, 40.9, 40.0, 42.8, 42.8, 42.0, 42.6, 42.8, 43.5, 42.5, 42.1, 41.6, 40.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "CHAPTER TEN THE ACE OF HEARTS. WHO SHOULD I FIND IN THE DRAWING ROOM TALKING FLUENTLY AND SMILING AFTER HIS WONT TO OLD LADY CHELFORD WHO SEEMED TO RECEIVE HIM VERY GRACIOUSLY FOR HER AT LEAST BUT CAPTAIN STANLEY LAKE. I CAN'T QUITE DESCRIBE TO YOU THE ODD AND UNPLEASANT SORT OF SURPRISE WHICH THAT VERY GENTLEMANLIKE FIGURE STANDING AMONG THE BRANDON HOUSEHOLD GODS AT THIS MOMENT COMMUNICATED TO ME. I GLANCED ROUND FOR WYLDER BUT HE WAS NOT THERE. YOU KNOW CAPTAIN LAKE. SAID LORD CHELFORD ADDRESSING ME. AND LAKE TURNED ROUND UPON ME A LITTLE ABRUPTLY HIS ODD YELLOWISH EYES A LITTLE LIKE THOSE OF THE SEA EAGLE AND THE GHOST OF HIS SMILE THAT FLICKERED ON HIS SINGULARLY PALE FACE WITH A STERN AND INSIDIOUS LOOK CONFRONTED ME. THE CHURCH YARD METEOR EXPIRED THERE WAS NOTHING IN A MOMENT BUT HIS ORDINARY SMILE OF RECOGNITION. YOU'RE SURPRISED TO SEE ME HERE HE SAID IN HIS VERY PLEASING LOW TONES. I LIGHTED ON HIM IN THE VILLAGE AND I KNEW MISS BRANDON WOULD NOT FORGIVE ME IF I ALLOWED HIM TO GO AWAY WITHOUT COMING HERE. HE HAD HIS HAND UPON LAKE'S SHOULDER. THEY ARE COUSINS YOU KNOW WE ARE ALL COUSINS. I'M BAD AT GENEALOGIES. MY MOTHER COULD TELL US ALL ABOUT IT WE BRANDONS LAKES WYLDERS AND CHELFORDS. AT THIS MOMENT MISS BRANDON ENTERED WITH HER BRILLIANT COUSIN RACHEL. THE BLONDE AND THE DARK IT WAS A DAZZLING CONTRAST. SO CHELFORD LED STANLEY LAKE BEFORE THE LADY OF THE CASTLE. I THOUGHT OF THE FAIR BRUNNISENDE WITH THE CAPTIVE KNIGHT IN THE HANDS OF HER SENESCHAL BEFORE HER AND I FANCIED HE SAID SOMETHING OF HAVING FOUND HIM TRESPASSING IN HER TOWN AND BROUGHT HIM UP FOR JUDGMENT. WHATEVER LORD CHELFORD SAID MISS BRANDON RECEIVED IT VERY GRACIOUSLY AND EVEN WITH A MOMENTARY SMILE. I WONDER SHE DID NOT SMILE OFTENER IT BECAME HER SO. BUT HER GREETING TO CAPTAIN LAKE WAS MORE THAN USUALLY HAUGHTY AND FROZEN AND HER FEATURES I FANCIED PARTICULARLY PROUD AND PALE. IT SEEMED TO ME TO INDICATE A GREAT DEAL MORE THAN MERE INDIFFERENCE SOMETHING OF AVERSION AND NEARER TO A POSITIVE EMOTION THAN ANYTHING I HAD YET SEEN IN THAT EXQUISITELY APATHETIC FACE. HOW WAS IT THAT THIS MAN WITH THE YELLOW EYES SEEMED TO GLEAM FROM THEM AN INFLUENCE OF PAIN OR DISTURBANCE WHEREVER ALMOST HE LOOKED. SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR COUSIN MY DEAR SAID OLD LADY CHELFORD PEREMPTORILY. THE LITTLE SCENE TOOK PLACE CLOSE TO HER CHAIR AND UPON THIS STAGE DIRECTION THE LITTLE PIECE OF BY PLAY TOOK PLACE AND THE YOUNG LADY COLDLY TOUCHED THE CAPTAIN'S HAND AND PASSED ON. YOUNG AS HE WAS STANLEY LAKE WAS AN OLD MAN OF THE WORLD NOT TO BE DISCONCERTED AND NEVER SAW MORE THAN EXACTLY SUITED HIM. WAITING IN THE DRAWING ROOM I HAD SOME ENTERTAINING TALK WITH MISS LAKE. HER CONVERSATION WAS LIVELY AND RATHER BOLD NOT AT ALL IN THE COARSE SENSE BUT SHE STRUCK ME AS HAVING FORMED A SYSTEM OF ETHICS AND VIEWS OF LIFE BOTH GOOD HUMOURED AND SARCASTIC AND HAD CARRIED INTO HER RUSTIC SEQUESTRATION THE MELANCHOLY AND PRECOCIOUS LORE OF HER EARLY LONDON EXPERIENCE. WHEN LORD CHELFORD JOINED US I PERCEIVED THAT WYLDER WAS IN THE ROOM AND SAW A VERY CORDIAL GREETING BETWEEN HIM AND LAKE" }, { "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "chapter": "32866", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5683/32866/32866_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "9eebb9aba232ab091b266cac497091333bd2ece75e2e22cb652a11f7af506629", "seconds": 237.25, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 38.2, 40.8, 43.2, 39.6, 43.9, 41.1, 41.9, 36.8, 42.2, 42.6, 39.6, 32.4, 42.1, 37.9, 42.2, 41.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "MISS LAKE DECLINED THE CARRIAGE TO NIGHT. HER BROTHER WAS TO SEE HER HOME AND THERE WAS A LEAVE TAKING AND THE YOUNG LADIES WHISPERED A WORD OR TWO AND KISSED AFTER THE MANNER OF THEIR KIND. TO CAPTAIN LAKE MISS BRANDON'S ADIEUX WERE AS COLD AND HAUGHTY AS HER GREETING. OLD WOMEN ALWAYS LIKE RASCALS. AND HE ADDED SOMETHING STILL LESS COMPLIMENTARY. I SUPPOSE THE BALANCE OF ATTRACTION AND REPULSION WAS OVERCOME BY MISS LAKE MUCH AS HE DISLIKED STANLEY FOR WYLDER FOLLOWED THEM OUT WITH LORD CHELFORD TO HELP THE YOUNG LADY INTO HER CLOAK AND GOLOSHES AND I FOUND MYSELF NEAR MISS BRANDON FOR THE FIRST TIME THAT EVENING AND MUCH TO MY SURPRISE SHE WAS FIRST TO SPEAK AND THAT RATHER STRANGELY. YOU SEEM TO BE VERY SENSIBLE MISTER DE CRESSERON PRAY TELL ME FRANKLY WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ALL THIS. I MEAN OF THE THE FAMILY ARRANGEMENTS IN WHICH AS MISTER WYLDER'S FRIEND YOU SEEM TO TAKE AN INTEREST SHE SAID. THERE CAN HARDLY BE A SECOND OPINION MISS BRANDON I THINK IT A VERY WISE MEASURE I REPLIED MUCH SURPRISED. VERY WISE EXACTLY. BUT DON'T THESE VERY WISE THINGS SOMETIMES TURN OUT VERY FOOLISHLY. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOUR FRIEND MISTER WYLDER CARES ABOUT ME. I TAKE THAT FOR GRANTED IN THE NATURE OF THINGS IT CAN HARDLY BE OTHERWISE I REPLIED A GOOD DEAL STARTLED AND PERPLEXED BY THE CURIOUS AUDACITY OF HER INTERROGATORY. IT WAS VERY FOOLISH OF ME TO EXPECT FROM MISTER WYLDER'S FRIEND ANY OTHER ANSWER YOU ARE VERY LOYAL MISTER DE CRESSERON. AND WITHOUT AWAITING MY REPLY SHE MADE SOME REMARK WHICH I FORGET TO LADY CHELFORD WHO SAT AT A LITTLE DISTANCE AND APPEARING QUITE ABSORBED IN HER NEW SUBJECT SHE PLACED HERSELF CLOSE BESIDE THE DOWAGER AND CONTINUED TO CHAT IN A LOW TONE. I WAS VEXED WITH MYSELF FOR HAVING MANAGED WITH SO LITTLE SKILL A CONVERSATION WHICH OPENED SO ODDLY AND FRANKLY MIGHT HAVE PLACED ME ON RELATIONS SO NEARLY CONFIDENTIAL WITH THAT SINGULAR AND BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I OUGHT TO HAVE REJOICED BUT WE DON'T ALWAYS SEE WHAT MOST CONCERNS OUR PEACE. IN THE MEANTIME I HAD FORMED A NEW IDEA OF HER. SHE WAS SO UNRESERVED IT SEEMED AND YET IN THIS DIRECTNESS THERE WAS SOMETHING ALMOST CONTEMPTUOUS. BY THIS TIME LORD CHELFORD AND WYLDER RETURNED AND DISGUSTED RATHER WITH MYSELF I RUMINATED ON MY WANT OF GENERAL SHIP. IN THE MEANTIME MISS LAKE WITH HER HAND ON HER BROTHER'S ARM WAS WALKING SWIFTLY UNDER THE TREES OF THE BACK AVENUE TOWARDS THAT FOOTPATH WHICH THROUGH WILD COPSE AND BROKEN CLUMPS NEAR THE PARK EMERGES UPON THE STILL DARKER ROAD WHICH PASSES ALONG THE WOODED GLEN BY THE MILLS AND SKIRTS THE LITTLE PALING OF THE RECLUSE LADY'S GARDEN. THEY HAD NOT WALKED FAR WHEN LAKE SUDDENLY SAID. AND HE MADE A LITTLE DIP OF HIS CANE TOWARDS BRANDON HALL OVER HIS SHOULDER. I DON'T THINK THEY PRETEND TO LIKE ONE ANOTHER IT IS QUITE UNDERSTOOD. IT WAS ALL YOU KNOW OLD LADY CHELFORD'S ARRANGEMENT AND DORCAS IS SO SUPINE I BELIEVE SHE WOULD ALLOW HERSELF TO BE GIVEN AWAY BY ANYONE AND TO ANYONE RATHER THAN BE AT THE LEAST TROUBLE SHE PROVOKES ME. BUT I THOUGHT SHE LIKED SIR HARRY BRACTON HE'S A GOOD LOOKING FELLOW AND QUEEN'S BRACTON IS A VERY NICE THING YOU KNOW. YES SO THEY SAID BUT THAT WOULD I THINK HAVE BEEN WORSE. SOMETHING MAY BE MADE OF MARK WYLDER. HE HAS SOME SENSE AND CAUTION HAS NOT HE BUT SIR HARRY IS WICKEDNESS ITSELF. WHY WHAT HAS SIR HARRY DONE. THAT IS THE WAY YOU WOMEN RUN AWAY WITH THINGS. IF A FELLOW'S BEEN A LITTLE BIT WILD HE'S BEELZEBUB AT ONCE. BRACTON'S A VERY GOOD FELLOW I CAN ASSURE YOU" }, { "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "chapter": "32879", "sourceFile": "test-clean/5683/32879/32879_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "34a2ddebb3fe4ed795bbcd77015542cdb0f79c7f114b1f005f3e7420993fa011", "seconds": 236.89, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 44.0, 47.6, 34.7, 41.9, 41.9, 44.6, 46.8, 42.6, 40.7, 44.3, 45.8, 41.6, 44.3, 45.4, 45.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "DORCAS BRANDON PAYS RACHEL A VISIT. IT WAS NOT VERY MUCH PAST ELEVEN THAT MORNING WHEN THE PONY CARRIAGE FROM BRANDON DREW UP BEFORE THE LITTLE GARDEN WICKET OF REDMAN'S FARM. ENQUIRED THIS GRAND AND BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY. WELL SHE WAS BETTER THOUGH SHE HAD HAD A BAD NIGHT. SHE WAS UP AND DRESSED AND THIS MOMENT COMING DOWN AND WOULD BE VERY HAPPY TO SEE MISS BRANDON IF SHE WOULD STEP INTO THE DRAWING ROOM. MISS BRANDON TOOK OLD TAMAR'S HAND GENTLY AND PRESSED IT. I SUPPOSE SHE WAS GLAD AND TOOK THIS WAY OF SHOWING IT AND TALL BEAUTIFUL GRACEFUL IN RUSTLING SILKS SHE GLIDED INTO THE TINY DRAWING ROOM SILENTLY AND SATE DOWN SOFTLY BY THE WINDOW LOOKING OUT UPON THE FLOWERS AND THE FALLING LEAVES MOTTLED IN LIGHT AND SHADOW. SO THERE CAME A STEP AND A LITTLE RUSTLING OF FEMININE DRAPERIES THE SMALL DOOR OPENED AND RACHEL ENTERED WITH HER HAND EXTENDED AND A PALE SMILE OF WELCOME. WOMEN CAN HIDE THEIR PAIN BETTER THAN WE MEN AND BEAR IT BETTER TOO EXCEPT WHEN SHAME DROPS FIRE INTO THE DREADFUL CHALICE. BUT POOR RACHEL LAKE HAD MORE THAN THAT STOICAL HYPOCRISY WHICH ENABLES THE TORTURED SPIRITS OF HER SEX TO LIFT A PALE FACE THROUGH THE FLAMES AND SMILE. SHE WAS SANGUINE SHE WAS GENIAL AND COMPANIONABLE AND HER SPIRITS ROSE AT THE SIGHT OF A FRIENDLY FACE. THIS TRANSIENT SPRING AND LIGHTING UP ARE BEAUTIFUL A GLAMOUR BEGUILING OUR SENSES. IT WAKENS UP THE FROZEN SPIRIT OF ENJOYMENT AND LEADS THE SAD FACULTIES FORTH ON A WILD FORGETFUL FROLIC. RACHEL DEAR I'M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU SAID DORCAS PLACING HER ARMS GENTLY ABOUT HER NECK AND KISSING HER TWICE OR THRICE. THERE WAS SOMETHING OF SWEETNESS AND FONDNESS IN HER TONES AND MANNER WHICH WAS NEW TO RACHEL AND COMFORTING AND SHE RETURNED THE GREETING AS KINDLY AND FELT MORE LIKE HER FORMER SELF. YOU HAVE BEEN MORE ILL THAN I THOUGHT DARLING AND YOU ARE STILL FAR FROM QUITE RECOVERED. RACHEL'S PALE AND SHARPENED FEATURES AND DILATED EYE STRUCK HER WITH A PAINFUL SURPRISE. I SHALL SOON BE AS WELL AS I AM EVER LIKELY TO BE THAT IS QUITE WELL ANSWERED RACHEL. YOU HAVE BEEN VERY KIND. I'VE HEARD OF YOUR COMING HERE AND SENDING SO OFTEN. THEY SAT DOWN SIDE BY SIDE AND DORCAS HELD HER HAND. MAYBE RACHEL DEAR YOU WOULD LIKE TO DRIVE A LITTLE. NO DARLING NOT YET IT IS VERY GOOD OF YOU. YOU HAVE BEEN SO ILL MY POOR RACHEL. ILL AND TROUBLED DEAR TROUBLED IN MIND AND MISERABLY NERVOUS. POOR RACHEL HER NATURE RECOILED FROM DECEIT AND SHE TOLD AT ALL EVENTS AS MUCH OF THE TRUTH AS SHE DARED. DORCAS'S LARGE EYES RESTED UPON HER WITH A GRAVE ENQUIRY AND THEN MISS BRANDON LOOKED DOWN IN SILENCE FOR A WHILE ON THE CARPET AND WAS THINKING A LITTLE STERNLY MAYBE AND WITH A LOOK OF PAIN STILL HOLDING RACHEL'S HAND SHE SAID WITH A SAD SORT OF REPROACH IN HER TONE. RACHEL DEAR YOU HAVE NOT TOLD MY SECRET. NO INDEED DORCAS NEVER AND NEVER WILL AND I THINK THOUGH I HAVE LEARNED TO FEAR DEATH I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LET STANLEY EVEN SUSPECT IT. SHE SPOKE WITH A SUDDEN ENERGY WHICH PARTOOK OF FEAR AND PASSION AND FLUSHED HER THIN CHEEK AND MADE HER LANGUID EYES FLASH. THANK YOU RACHEL MY COUSIN RACHEL MY ONLY FRIEND. I OUGHT NOT TO HAVE DOUBTED YOU AND SHE KISSED HER AGAIN. CHELFORD HAD A NOTE FROM MISTER WYLDER THIS MORNING ANOTHER NOTE HIS COMING DELAYED AND SOMETHING OF HIS HAVING TO SEE SOME PERSON WHO IS ABROAD CONTINUED DORCAS AFTER A LITTLE PAUSE" }, { "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "chapter": "70968", "sourceFile": "test-clean/61/70968/70968_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "f5fc6a22d19ac9043c226f6f8634f75118b1f8e848d8788179310b24a973f9f2", "seconds": 238.61, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 20.5, 19.8, 20.5, 21.0, 20.9, 20.3, 21.1, 21.6, 20.9, 20.8, 21.8, 20.2, 20.9, 20.9, 17.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 15, "reference": "ROBIN STARTED BACK ANGRILY AND FACED THE SQUIRE. HE BEGAN A CONFUSED COMPLAINT AGAINST THE WIZARD WHO HAD VANISHED BEHIND THE CURTAIN ON THE LEFT. MASTER MONTFICHET SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS INDULGENTLY. GIVE NOT SO EARNEST A MIND TO THESE MUMMERIES CHILD. TWAS ALL A TRICK WHAT DID YOU SEE. A GOLDEN FORTUNE AND A HAPPY LIFE. HE WAS LIKE UNTO MY FATHER IN A WAY AND YET WAS NOT MY FATHER. ALSO THERE WAS A STRIPLING PAGE WHO TURNED INTO A MAID. VERY BEAUTIFUL SHE WAS AND I WOULD KNOW HER AGAIN IN ANY GUISE. AH MASTER ROBIN HAVE YOU EYES FOR THE MAIDS ALREADY. THIS WAS SO SWEET A LADY SIR AND IN SOME MANNER I DO THINK SHE DIED. AND THE MAN SHOT AN ARROW MEANING ME TO SEE WHERE IT FELL SINCE THERE WOULD BE HER GRAVE. THAT IS WHAT I THINK HE MEANT. BUT THEN THE PICTURE WAS GONE AS QUICKLY AS IT CAME. SISTER NELL DO YOU HEAR THESE MARVELS. TAKE YOUR PLACE AND LET US SEE WHAT THE CRYSTAL CAN SHOW TO YOU. THESE THINGS ARE TRUE THAT THE GLASS MIRROR SHOWS LORDING ANSWERED THE WIZARD REAPPEARING. THE CRYSTAL CANNOT LIE. HE SPOKE UNWITTINGLY IN A NATURAL KEY. ROBIN TURNED ROUND UPON HIM VERY SHREWDLY. FRIEND WIZARD SAID THE YOUTH HALF AT RANDOM HAVE YOU EVER PLAYED AT ARCHERY IN THAT GREENWOOD WHICH YOUR GLASS SHOWED US SO PRETTILY. LIKE AS NOT YOUNG MASTER THOUGH I AM AN OLD MAN. REMEMBER THAT THE CRYSTAL CANNOT LIE. IT TELLS ME NOW THAT YOU AND I WILL MEET IN RIVALRY TO SHOOT TOGETHER FOR A STRANGE PRIZE THE FREEDOM OF SHERWOOD. THE WIZARD HASTILY DREW NEAR AND PRETENDED TO PEER INTO THE GLASS. WHAT WOULD YOU DO HE WHISPERED FIERCELY. KEEP YOUR SECRET FOR I WILL NOT BETRAY YOU. AT THIS MOMENT THERE UPROSE WITHOUT THE BOOTH A MOST DEAFENING TUMULT. FORTHWITH ALL RAN TO THE OPENING OF THE TENT TO SEE WHAT MIGHT BE AMISS BUT MASTER WILL WHO PEEPED OUT FIRST NEEDED NO MORE THAN ONE GLANCE. HE GAVE WAY TO THE OTHERS VERY READILY AND RETREATED UNPERCEIVED BY THE SQUIRE AND MISTRESS FITZOOTH TO THE REAR OF THE TENT. CRIES OF A NOTTINGHAM A NOTTINGHAM. RENT THE AIR AND ADDED TO THE CLANGOR OF BELLS AND TRUMPETINGS. AS THE SQUIRE AND ROBIN LOOKED FORTH THEY BEHELD A FLYING CROWD OF MEN AND WOMEN ALL RUNNING AND SHOUTING. BEFORE THEM FLED THE STROLLER AND HIS THREE SONS CAPLESS AND TERRIFIED. THE OLD MAN'S TRIANGLE HAD BEEN TORN FROM HIM AND WAS BEING JANGLED NOW BY NOTTINGHAM FINGERS. THERE IS TROUBLE BEFORE US COME ROBIN SAID MONTFICHET AS HE STEPPED OUT WITH THE LAD CLOSE AT HIS HEELS. WHAT IS THE TUMULT AND RIOTING CRIED OUT THE SQUIRE AUTHORITATIVELY AND HE BLEW TWICE ON A SILVER WHISTLE WHICH HUNG AT HIS BELT. THE STROLLERS RUSHED AT ONCE TOWARD THE OLD MAN AND FACED THEIR ENEMIES RESOLUTELY WHEN THEY HAD GAINED HIS SIDE. THEY WERE OUT OF BREATH AND THEIR STORY WAS A CONFUSED ONE. THE LITTLE TUMBLER RECOVERED FIRST. NAY WE REFUSED THEIR REQUEST MOST POLITELY MOST NOBLE SAID THE LITTLE STROLLER. AND THEN THEY BECAME VEXED AND WOULD HAVE SNATCHED YOUR PURSE FROM US. I COULD NOT SEE MY BOY INJURED EXCELLENCE FOR BUT DOING HIS DUTY AS ONE OF CUMBERLAND'S SONS. SO I DID PUSH THIS FELLOW. IT IS ENOUGH SAID GEORGE GAMEWELL SHARPLY AND HE TURNED UPON THE CROWD. SHAME ON YOU CITIZENS CRIED HE I BLUSH FOR MY FELLOWS OF NOTTINGHAM. IS THIS HOW YOU PLAY AN ENGLISH GAME TO FORCE YOUR RIVALS TO LOSE TO YOU ANY WAY CUMBERLAND HAS WON MY PURSE THE TEST WAS FAIRLY SET AND FAIRLY WERE WE CONQUERED. SURELY WE CAN SUBMIT WITH GOOD GRACE. TIS FINE FOR YOU TO TALK OLD MAN ANSWERED THE LEAN SULLEN APPRENTICE. BUT I WRESTLED WITH THIS FELLOW AND DO KNOW THAT HE PLAYED UNFAIRLY IN THE SECOND BOUT. SPOKE THE SQUIRE LOSING ALL PATIENCE AND IT WAS TO YOU THAT I GAVE ANOTHER PURSE IN CONSOLATION. GO YOUR WAYS ERE I CAUSE YOU TO BE MORE SOUNDLY WHIPPED THAN YOUR DESERTS WHICH SHOULD BRING HEAVY ENOUGH PUNISHMENT FOR SURE" }, { "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "chapter": "70970", "sourceFile": "test-clean/61/70970/70970_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "576b6afc5d1bd31c12c13527645357e7b788c43f0e4ca73db1e489968609d9db", "seconds": 238.29, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 20.5, 20.5, 20.5, 19.6, 20.0, 20.6, 20.7, 20.0, 19.8, 20.3, 20.2, 20.8, 20.9, 20.9, 19.8, 20.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 16, "reference": "YOUNG FITZOOTH HAD BEEN COMMANDED TO HIS MOTHER'S CHAMBER SO SOON AS HE HAD COME OUT FROM HIS CONVERSE WITH THE SQUIRE. THERE BEFELL AN ANXIOUS INTERVIEW MISTRESS FITZOOTH ARGUING FOR AND AGAINST THE SQUIRE'S PROJECT IN A BREATH. ROBIN WAS PERPLEXED INDEED HIS AMBITION WAS FIRED BY THE SQUIRE'S ROSY PICTURES OF WHAT HE AS A TRUE MONTFICHET MUST ADHERE TO WITHOUT FAIL UPON ASSUMING THE NAME AND MANTLE OF GAMEWELL. MOST OF ALL ROBIN THOUGHT OF HIS FATHER WHAT WOULD HE COUNSEL. REMAIN FITZOOTH AND FIGHT YOUR OWN WAY IN THE WORLD BOY. THAT IS WHAT HE MIGHT SAY. IN THE END ROBIN DECIDED TO SLEEP UPON THE MATTER. IN ANY CASE HE WOULD NOT CONSENT TO ROB GEOFFREY OF HIS INHERITANCE AND HE TOLD OLD GAMEWELL THIS TO HIS FACE. WHEN I AM GONE YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WILL WITH THE PLACE BOY THE OLD MAN HAD ANSWERED. I HAVE NO SON BUT OF COURSE THE FEES AND REVENUES WILL BE YOURS. IF FOR A WHIM YOU BEGGAR YOURSELF I CANNOT STAY YOU. BUT TAKE IT WHILST I LIVE AND WEAR MONTFICHET'S SHIELD IN THE DAYS WHEN MY EYES CAN BE REJOICED BY SO BRAVE A SIGHT FOR YOU WILL NE'ER DISGRACE OUR SCUTCHEON I WARRANT ME. PERCHANCE TIS GEOFFREY'S SOLE CHANCE THAT YOU SHOULD WEAR THE BADGE OF GAMEWELL. I MIGHT CHOOSE TO BEQUEATH IT ELSEWHERE. THE LAD HAD CHECKED HIM THEN. NEVER THAT SIR HE HAD SAID. LET GAMEWELL LAND BE RULED FOR EVER BY GAMEWELL'S PROPER LORD. I PRAY YOU TO LET ME TAKE COUNSEL WITH MY MOTHER ERE I ANSWER YOU. IT IS WHAT I WOULD SUGGEST MYSELF GO TO HER. THEN HAD COME THE ARGUMENT WITH HIS MOTHER WHICH HAD UNSETTLED HIM MORE THAN BEFORE. HE WENT DOWN TO DISCUSS WITH WARRENTON AND STUTELEY THE MEANS BY WHICH THEY BEST COULD BRING THE HORSE AND ARMS TO GEOFFREY AND IT SOON BECAME EVIDENT THAT NO ONE OTHER THAN WARRENTON DARE ATTEMPT IT FOR FEAR OF BETRAYING THE SON TO HIS STILL ANGRY FATHER. ARE YOU SURE WARRENTON THAT YOU WILL PERFORM THIS BUSINESS RIGHT CAREFULLY ROBIN ASKED OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL THE OLD SERVANT BECAME VEXED. I AM PART OF THE HOUSE OF MONTFICHET LORDING SNAPPED WARRENTON AT LAST AND IT IS NOT REASONABLE TO THINK THAT I WILL TURN AGAINST MYSELF AS IT WERE. BE SURE THAT THE HORSE AND HIS TRAPPINGS WILL BE SAFELY CARRIED TO MY SECOND MASTER GEOFFREY AT THE HOUR GIVEN. DO YOU KEEP THE SQUIRE EMPLOYED IN TALK AND FIND EXCUSE TO LIE IN THE LITTLE ROOM NEXT TO HIS OWN THAT YOU MAY HEAR HIM IF HE MOVES. SO ROBIN AND WILL WENT BACK TO THE HALL AND PRESENTLY THE SQUIRE'S VOICE WAS HEARD THROUGH THE ARRAS WHICH COVERED THE NORTH ENTRANCE TO THE APARTMENT. HE WAS IN DEEP CONVERSE WITH THE CLERK AND ENTERED THE HALL HOLDING HIM BY THE ARM. FOR A MOMENT ROBIN AND WILL WERE UNPERCEIVED THEN THE SQUIRE'S BRIGHT KEEN EYES DISCOVERED THEM. NOW TO BED BOY. CRIED HE DROPPING HIS DETAINING HOLD OF THE PRIEST. TIS LATE AND I GO MYSELF WITHIN A SHORT SPACE. DISMISS YOUR SQUIRE ROBIN AND BID ME GOOD E E N. AN EARLY SLEEPER MAKETH A SOUND MAN. DID I SEE YOU WITH WARRENTON ROBIN FITZOOTH PUT IN THE CLERK CURIOUSLY. I WOULD FAIN HAVE SOME TALK WITH HIM ON THE MATTER OF ARCHERY. I AM TOLD THAT THIS OLD MAN CAN DRAW AS PRETTY A BOW AS ANY IN NOTTINGHAM. AS ANY IN ENGLAND I WOULD SAY SAID GAMEWELL PROUDLY THAT IS IN HIS DAY. NOW THAT AGE IS UPON WARRENTON AND HIS MASTER CUNNING IN SUCH MATTERS IS TO SEEK. YET HE WILL TEACH YOU A FEW TRICKS WHEN MORNING IS COME. NOW KISS ME BOY AND KEEP CLEAR HEAD AND READY HAND FOR THE JOUSTINGS AND GAMES TO MORROW. GOOD NIGHT GOD KEEP THEE ROBIN. HE SEEMED TO TAKE IT FOR GRANTED THAT ROBIN WOULD IN THE END CONSENT TO BECOME OF THE HOUSE OF GAMEWELL. ALREADY SQUIRE GEORGE LOOKED UPON HIM AS HEIR TO THE HALL AND ITS ACRES EVEN AS SLOWLY DID WARRENTON THE SHREWD AND FAITHFUL MAN AT ARMS. TRUTH TO TELL THE OLD SERVANT DID NOT REGARD THE PROSPECT WITH TOO KIND AN EYE. YOUNG FITZOOTH EMBRACED HIS UNCLE AND BADE HIM GOOD NIGHT WITH REAL AFFECTION. THERE WAS NO CHANCE TO ALTER HIS SLEEPING ROOM TO ONE NEARER TO GAMEWELL'S CHAMBER" }, { "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "chapter": "122797", "sourceFile": "test-clean/672/122797/122797_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "b4e072e0084fc176fe8e9de57cef85a9312b0843606134ce5c75c83fb28066c1", "seconds": 234.07, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 34.7, 34.8, 33.6, 34.3, 33.7, 32.6, 36.7, 36.3, 32.5, 34.4, 35.6, 35.8, 34.1, 32.1, 34.7, 34.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "OUT IN THE WOODS STOOD A NICE LITTLE FIR TREE. THE PLACE HE HAD WAS A VERY GOOD ONE THE SUN SHONE ON HIM AS TO FRESH AIR THERE WAS ENOUGH OF THAT AND ROUND HIM GREW MANY LARGE SIZED COMRADES PINES AS WELL AS FIRS. BUT THE LITTLE FIR WANTED SO VERY MUCH TO BE A GROWN UP TREE. HE DID NOT THINK OF THE WARM SUN AND OF THE FRESH AIR HE DID NOT CARE FOR THE LITTLE COTTAGE CHILDREN THAT RAN ABOUT AND PRATTLED WHEN THEY WERE IN THE WOODS LOOKING FOR WILD STRAWBERRIES. THE CHILDREN OFTEN CAME WITH A WHOLE PITCHER FULL OF BERRIES OR A LONG ROW OF THEM THREADED ON A STRAW AND SAT DOWN NEAR THE YOUNG TREE AND SAID OH HOW PRETTY HE IS WHAT A NICE LITTLE FIR. BUT THIS WAS WHAT THE TREE COULD NOT BEAR TO HEAR. AT THE END OF A YEAR HE HAD SHOT UP A GOOD DEAL AND AFTER ANOTHER YEAR HE WAS ANOTHER LONG BIT TALLER FOR WITH FIR TREES ONE CAN ALWAYS TELL BY THE SHOOTS HOW MANY YEARS OLD THEY ARE. OH. THEN WOULD THE BIRDS BUILD NESTS AMONG MY BRANCHES AND WHEN THERE WAS A BREEZE I COULD BEND WITH AS MUCH STATELINESS AS THE OTHERS. NEITHER THE SUNBEAMS NOR THE BIRDS NOR THE RED CLOUDS WHICH MORNING AND EVENING SAILED ABOVE HIM GAVE THE LITTLE TREE ANY PLEASURE. IN WINTER WHEN THE SNOW LAY GLITTERING ON THE GROUND A HARE WOULD OFTEN COME LEAPING ALONG AND JUMP RIGHT OVER THE LITTLE TREE. OH THAT MADE HIM SO ANGRY. BUT TWO WINTERS WERE PAST AND IN THE THIRD THE TREE WAS SO LARGE THAT THE HARE WAS OBLIGED TO GO ROUND IT. TO GROW AND GROW TO GET OLDER AND BE TALL THOUGHT THE TREE THAT AFTER ALL IS THE MOST DELIGHTFUL THING IN THE WORLD. IN AUTUMN THE WOOD CUTTERS ALWAYS CAME AND FELLED SOME OF THE LARGEST TREES. THIS HAPPENED EVERY YEAR AND THE YOUNG FIR TREE THAT HAD NOW GROWN TO A VERY COMELY SIZE TREMBLED AT THE SIGHT FOR THE MAGNIFICENT GREAT TREES FELL TO THE EARTH WITH NOISE AND CRACKING THE BRANCHES WERE LOPPED OFF AND THE TREES LOOKED LONG AND BARE THEY WERE HARDLY TO BE RECOGNISED AND THEN THEY WERE LAID IN CARTS AND THE HORSES DRAGGED THEM OUT OF THE WOOD. WHERE DID THEY GO TO. WHAT BECAME OF THEM. HAVE YOU NOT MET THEM ANYWHERE. I MAY CONGRATULATE YOU FOR THEY LIFTED THEMSELVES ON HIGH MOST MAJESTICALLY. BUT HOW DOES THE SEA LOOK IN REALITY WHAT IS IT LIKE. REJOICE IN THY GROWTH SAID THE SUNBEAMS. REJOICE IN THY VIGOROUS GROWTH AND IN THE FRESH LIFE THAT MOVETH WITHIN THEE. AND THE WIND KISSED THE TREE AND THE DEW WEPT TEARS OVER HIM BUT THE FIR UNDERSTOOD IT NOT. THESE YOUNG TREES AND THEY WERE ALWAYS THE FINEST LOOKING RETAINED THEIR BRANCHES THEY WERE LAID ON CARTS AND THE HORSES DREW THEM OUT OF THE WOOD. WHERE ARE THEY GOING TO ASKED THE FIR. ASKED THE FIR TREE TREMBLING IN EVERY BOUGH. AND THEN WHAT HAPPENS THEN. WE DID NOT SEE ANYTHING MORE IT WAS INCOMPARABLY BEAUTIFUL" }, { "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "chapter": "68769", "sourceFile": "test-clean/6829/68769/68769_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "21b51e5515571e58783f90f0f413d791eb1a5fce0af34591cd6fbc589e5de1f5", "seconds": 238.76, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 41.6, 41.4, 49.5, 44.1, 56.8, 46.2, 44.5, 43.2, 46.6, 49.4, 46.9, 49.6, 47.8, 53.5, 52.1, 48.2 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "KENNETH AND BETH REFRAINED FROM TELLING THE OTHER GIRLS OR UNCLE JOHN OF OLD WILL ROGERS'S VISIT BUT THEY GOT MISTER WATSON IN THE LIBRARY AND QUESTIONED HIM CLOSELY ABOUT THE PENALTY FOR FORGING A CHECK. IT WAS A SERIOUS CRIME INDEED MISTER WATSON TOLD THEM AND TOM GATES BADE FAIR TO SERVE A LENGTHY TERM IN STATE'S PRISON AS A CONSEQUENCE OF HIS RASH ACT. BUT IT WAS A GENEROUS ACT TOO SAID BETH. I CAN'T SEE IT IN THAT LIGHT SAID THE OLD LAWYER. IT WAS A DELIBERATE THEFT FROM HIS EMPLOYERS TO PROTECT A GIRL HE LOVED. I DO NOT DOUBT THE GIRL WAS UNJUSTLY ACCUSED. THE SQUIERSES ARE A SELFISH HARD FISTED LOT AND THE OLD LADY ESPECIALLY IS A WELL KNOWN VIRAGO. BUT THEY COULD NOT HAVE PROVEN A CASE AGAINST LUCY IF SHE WAS INNOCENT AND ALL THEIR THREATS OF ARRESTING HER WERE PROBABLY MERE BLUFF. SO THIS BOY WAS DOUBLY FOOLISH IN RUINING HIMSELF TO GET SIXTY DOLLARS TO PAY AN UNJUST DEMAND. HE WAS SOFT HEARTED AND IMPETUOUS SAID BETH AND BEING IN LOVE HE DIDN'T STOP TO COUNT THE COST. INDEED THERE IS NEVER AN EXCUSE FOR CRIME. THE YOUNG MAN IS GUILTY AND HE MUST SUFFER THE PENALTY. IS THERE NO WAY TO SAVE HIM ASKED KENNETH. IF THE PROSECUTION WERE WITHDRAWN AND THE CASE SETTLED WITH THE VICTIM OF THE FORGED CHECK THEN THE YOUNG MAN WOULD BE ALLOWED HIS FREEDOM. BUT UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES I DOUBT IF SUCH AN ARRANGEMENT COULD BE MADE. WE'RE GOING TO TRY IT ANYHOW WAS THE PROMPT DECISION. SO AS SOON AS BREAKFAST WAS OVER THE NEXT MORNING BETH AND KENNETH TOOK ONE OF THE AUTOMOBILES THE BOY CONSENTING UNWILLINGLY TO THIS SORT OF LOCOMOTION BECAUSE IT WOULD SAVE MUCH TIME. FAIRVIEW WAS TWELVE MILES AWAY BUT BY TEN O'CLOCK THEY DREW UP AT THE COUNTY JAIL. THEY WERE RECEIVED IN THE LITTLE OFFICE BY A MAN NAMED MARKHAM WHO WAS THE JAILER. HE WAS A ROUND FACED RESPECTABLE APPEARING FELLOW BUT HIS MOOD WAS DISTINCTLY UNSOCIABLE. WE WISH TO TALK WITH HIM ANSWERED KENNETH TALK. WHAT'S THE GOOD YOU'RE NO FRIEND OF TOM GATES. I AM KENNETH FORBES OF ELMHURST. I'M RUNNING FOR REPRESENTATIVE ON THE REPUBLICAN TICKET SAID KENNETH QUIETLY. OH SAY THAT'S DIFFERENT OBSERVED MARKHAM ALTERING HIS DEMEANOR. YOU MUSTN'T MIND MY BEING GRUFF AND GRUMPY MISTER FORBES. I'VE JUST STOPPED SMOKING A FEW DAYS AGO AND IT'S GOT ON MY NERVES SOMETHING AWFUL. MAY WE SEE GATES AT ONCE ASKED KENNETH. SURE LY I'LL TAKE YOU TO HIS CELL MYSELF. IT'S JUST SHOCKING HOW SUCH A LITTLE THING AS STOPPIN SMOKING WILL RILE UP A FELLOW COME THIS WAY PLEASE. THEY FOLLOWED THE JAILER ALONG A SUCCESSION OF PASSAGES. SOMETIMES I'M THAT YEARNING FOR A SMOKE I'M NEARLY CRAZY AN I DUNNO WHICH IS WORST DYIN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. HE UNLOCKED THE DOOR AND CALLED HERE'S VISITORS TOM. THANK YOU MISTER MARKHAM REPLIED A QUIET VOICE AS A YOUNG MAN CAME FORWARD FROM THE DIM INTERIOR OF THE CELL HOW ARE YOU FEELING TODAY. WORSE TOM WORSE N EVER REPLIED THE JAILER GLOOMILY. WELL STICK IT OUT OLD MAN DON'T GIVE IN. I WON'T TOM SMOKIN LL KILL ME SURE AN THERE'S A FAINT HOPE O LIVIN THROUGH THIS STRUGGLE TO GIVE IT UP. THIS VISITOR IS MISTER FORBES OF ELMHURST AN THE YOUNG LADY IS. MISS DE GRAF SAID KENNETH NOTICING THE BOY'S FACE CRITICALLY AS HE STOOD WHERE THE LIGHT FROM THE PASSAGE FELL UPON IT. WILL YOU LEAVE US ALONE PLEASE MISTER MARKHAM. SORRY WE HAVEN'T ANY RECEPTION ROOM IN THE JAIL. ALL VISITS HAS TO BE MADE IN THE CELLS. THEN HE DELIBERATELY LOCKED KENNETH AND BETH IN WITH THE FORGER AND RETREATED ALONG THE PASSAGE. SIT DOWN PLEASE SAID GATES IN A CHEERFUL AND PLEASANT VOICE THERE'S A BENCH HERE. WHY DID YOU DO IT ASKED BETH. HE WAS SILENT AND TURNED HIS FACE AWAY. A FRESH WHOLESOME LOOKING BOY WAS TOM GATES WITH STEADY GRAY EYES AN INTELLIGENT FOREHEAD BUT A SENSITIVE RATHER WEAK MOUTH. HE WAS OF STURDY ATHLETIC BUILD AND DRESSED NEATLY IN A SUIT THAT WAS OF COARSE MATERIAL BUT WELL BRUSHED AND CARED FOR. BETH THOUGHT HIS APPEARANCE PLEASING AND MANLY. WE HAVE HEARD SOMETHING OF YOUR STORY SAID KENNETH AND ARE INTERESTED IN IT. DO YOU KNOW LUCY SIR ASKED THE YOUNG MAN" }, { "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "chapter": "68771", "sourceFile": "test-clean/6829/68771/68771_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "7c48a608e7cbb2abf2d3f7a4300830ca2693f5d06eee2111c494e7ece735a6b0", "seconds": 237.43, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 42.5, 51.8, 46.7, 48.4, 62.5, 58.9, 64.0, 48.1, 62.9, 43.6, 57.4, 65.4, 49.2, 38.6, 58.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "CHAPTER TWELVE BETH MEETS A REBUFF. THE CAMPAIGN WAS NOW GROWING WARM. MISTER HOPKINS HAD COME TO REALIZE THAT HE HAD THE FIGHT OF HIS LIFE ON HIS HANDS AND THAT DEFEAT MEANT HIS POLITICAL RUIN. SO TO THE SURPRISE OF THE DEMOCRATIC COMMITTEE AND ALL HIS FRIENDS MISTER HOPKINS ANNOUNCED THAT HE WOULD OPPOSE FORBES'S AGGRESSIVE CAMPAIGN WITH AN EQUAL AGGRESSIVENESS AND SPEND AS MANY DOLLARS IN DOING SO AS MIGHT BE NECESSARY. HE DID NOT LAUGH AT HIS OPPONENTS ANY LONGER. TO HIMSELF HE ADMITTED THEIR SHREWDNESS AND ACTIVITY AND ACKNOWLEDGED THAT AN EXPERIENCED HEAD WAS MANAGING THEIR AFFAIRS. ONE OF MISTER HOPKINS'S FIRST TASKS AFTER CALLING HIS FAITHFUL HENCHMEN AROUND HIM WAS TO MAKE A CAREFUL CANVASS OF THE VOTERS OF HIS DISTRICT TO SEE WHAT WAS STILL TO BE ACCOMPLISHED. THIS CANVASS WAS QUITE SATISFACTORY FOR FINAL REPORT SHOWED ONLY ABOUT A HUNDRED MAJORITY FOR FORBES. BUT TO OFFSET THIS CHEERING CONDITION THE DEMOCRATIC AGENTS WHO MADE THE CANVASS REPORTED THAT THERE WAS AN AIR OF UNCERTAINTY THROUGHOUT THE DISTRICT AND THAT MANY OF THOSE WHO DECLARED FOR HOPKINS WERE LUKEWARM AND FAINT HEARTED AND MIGHT EASILY BE INDUCED TO CHANGE THEIR VOTES. THIS WAS WHAT MUST BE PREVENTED. THE WEAK KNEED CONTINGENCY MUST BE STRENGTHENED AND FORTIFIED AND A COUPLE OF HUNDRED VOTES IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER SECURED FROM THE OPPOSITION. THE DEMOCRATIC COMMITTEE FIGURED OUT A WAY TO DO THIS. MONROE COUNTY WHERE BOTH FORBES AND HOPKINS RESIDED WAS ONE OF THE DEMOCRATIC STRONGHOLDS OF THE STATE. THE PORTIONS OF WASHINGTON AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES INCLUDED IN THE EIGHTH DISTRICT WERE AS STRONGLY REPUBLICAN AND BEING MORE POPULOUS GAVE TO THE DISTRICT ITS NATURAL REPUBLICAN MAJORITY. ON THE SAME TICKET THAT WAS TO ELECT A REPRESENTATIVE TO THE STATE LEGISLATURE WAS THE CANDIDATE FOR SHERIFF OF MONROE COUNTY. A MAN NAMED CUMMINGS WAS THE REPUBLICAN AND SETH REYNOLDS THE LIVERYMAN THE DEMOCRATIC NOMINEE. UNDER ORDINARY CONDITIONS REYNOLDS WAS SURE TO BE ELECTED BUT THE COMMITTEE PROPOSED TO SACRIFICE HIM IN ORDER TO ELECT HOPKINS. THIS TRADING VOTES WHICH WAS OFTEN DONE WAS CONSIDERED BY THE POLITICIANS QUITE LEGITIMATE. THE ONLY THING NECESSARY WAS TO FIX SETH REYNOLDS AND THIS HOPKINS ARRANGED PERSONALLY. REYNOLDS SAW THE POLITICAL NECESSITY OF THIS SACRIFICE AND CONSENTED READILY TO THE ARRANGEMENT. MISTER CUMMINGS WHO WAS TO PROFIT BY THE DEAL WAS CALLED TO A PRIVATE CONSULTATION AND AGREED TO SLAUGHTER KENNETH FORBES TO SECURE VOTES FOR HIMSELF. BUT THE HONORABLE ERASTUS HAD NO INTENTION OF TAKING CHANCES OR MONKEYING WITH FATE AS HE TERSELY EXPRESSED IT. EVERY SCHEME KNOWN TO POLITICIANS MUST BE WORKED AND NONE KNEW THE INTRICATE GAME BETTER THAN HOPKINS. THIS WAS WHY HE HELD SEVERAL LONG CONFERENCES WITH HIS FRIEND MARSHALL THE MANAGER AT THE MILL. AND THIS WAS WHY KENNETH AND BETH DISCOVERED HIM CONVERSING WITH THE YOUNG WOMAN IN THE BUGGY. MISTER HOPKINS HAD PICKED HER UP FROM THE PATH LEADING FROM THE REAR GATE OF THE ELMHURST GROUNDS AND SHE HAD GIVEN HIM ACCURATE INFORMATION CONCERNING THE MOVEMENTS OF THE GIRL CAMPAIGNERS. THE DESCRIPTION SHE GAVE OF THE COMING RECEPTION TO THE WOMAN'S POLITICAL LEAGUE WAS SO HUMOROUS AND DIVERTING THAT THEY WERE BOTH LAUGHING HEARTILY OVER THE THING WHEN THE YOUNG PEOPLE PASSED THEM AND THUS MISTER HOPKINS FAILED TO NOTICE WHO THE OCCUPANTS OF THE OTHER VEHICLE WERE. LOUISE WAS MAKING GREAT PREPARATIONS TO ENTERTAIN THE WOMAN'S POLITICAL LEAGUE AN ORGANIZATION SHE HAD HERSELF FOUNDED THE MEMBERS OF WHICH WERE WIVES OF FARMERS IN THE DISTRICT. THESE WOMEN WERE FLATTERED BY THE ATTENTION OF THE YOUNG LADY AND HAD PROMISED TO ASSIST IN ELECTING MISTER FORBES" }, { "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "chapter": "75918", "sourceFile": "test-clean/6930/75918/75918_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "8adc002204b607e4fcd8ee7e52eddbff3cbbdde954679dc289e93af2d2cfc833", "seconds": 234.11, "pieces": 18, "cutLevelsDb": [ 18.4, 22.0, 33.0, 32.0, 30.2, 40.1, 32.4, 36.7, 37.0, 37.3, 32.9, 42.8, 32.9, 31.0, 35.9, 32.3, 39.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 2, "reference": "CONCORD RETURNED TO ITS PLACE AMIDST THE TENTS. ENGLISH AND FRENCH RIVALED EACH OTHER IN THEIR DEVOTION AND COURTEOUS ATTENTION TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS TRAVELERS. THE ENGLISH FORWARDED TO THE FRENCH BASKETS OF FLOWERS OF WHICH THEY HAD MADE A PLENTIFUL PROVISION TO GREET THE ARRIVAL OF THE YOUNG PRINCESS THE FRENCH IN RETURN INVITED THE ENGLISH TO A SUPPER WHICH WAS TO BE GIVEN THE NEXT DAY. CONGRATULATIONS WERE POURED IN UPON THE PRINCESS EVERYWHERE DURING HER JOURNEY. FROM THE RESPECT PAID HER ON ALL SIDES SHE SEEMED LIKE A QUEEN AND FROM THE ADORATION WITH WHICH SHE WAS TREATED BY TWO OR THREE SHE APPEARED AN OBJECT OF WORSHIP THE QUEEN MOTHER GAVE THE FRENCH THE MOST AFFECTIONATE RECEPTION FRANCE WAS HER NATIVE COUNTRY AND SHE HAD SUFFERED TOO MUCH UNHAPPINESS IN ENGLAND FOR ENGLAND TO HAVE MADE HER FORGET FRANCE. SHE TAUGHT HER DAUGHTER THEN BY HER OWN AFFECTION FOR IT THAT LOVE FOR A COUNTRY WHERE THEY HAD BOTH BEEN HOSPITABLY RECEIVED AND WHERE A BRILLIANT FUTURE OPENED BEFORE THEM. THE COUNT HAD THROWN HIMSELF BACK ON HIS SEAT LEANING HIS SHOULDERS AGAINST THE PARTITION OF THE TENT AND REMAINED THUS HIS FACE BURIED IN HIS HANDS WITH HEAVING CHEST AND RESTLESS LIMBS. BODILY I SUPPOSE YES BODILY. THIS HAS INDEED BEEN A HARASSING DAY CONTINUED THE YOUNG MAN HIS EYES FIXED UPON HIS FRIEND. YES A NIGHT'S REST WILL PROBABLY RESTORE ME SHALL I LEAVE YOU. YOU WILL BE FRANK WITH ME I ALWAYS AM. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHY BUCKINGHAM HAS BEEN SO VIOLENT I SUSPECT. BECAUSE HE IS IN LOVE WITH MADAME IS IT NOT. ONE COULD ALMOST SWEAR TO IT TO OBSERVE HIM. YOU ARE MISTAKEN THERE IS NOTHING OF THE KIND. IT IS YOU WHO ARE MISTAKEN RAOUL I HAVE READ HIS DISTRESS IN HIS EYES IN HIS EVERY GESTURE AND ACTION THE WHOLE DAY. I CAN PERCEIVE LOVE CLEARLY ENOUGH. I AM CONVINCED OF WHAT I SAY SAID THE COUNT. NOW INFORM ME COUNT SAID RAOUL FIXING A PENETRATING LOOK UPON HIM WHAT HAPPENED TO RENDER YOU SO CLEAR SIGHTED. I MEAN THAT GENERALLY YOU ARE LESS OUT OF SPIRITS THAN SEEMS TO BE THE CASE THIS EVENING I AM FATIGUED. BELIEVE ME IT IS NOT FATIGUE THAT SADDENS YOU TO NIGHT. IT IS ANNOYANCE THEN. WHAT ANNOYANCE THAT OF THIS EVENING. THE MAD CONDUCT OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM DO YOU MEAN. YES YOU ARE RIGHT BUT I DO NOT THINK ANY DANGER IS TO BE APPREHENDED FROM BUCKINGHAM. YOU OBSERVE HOWEVER THAT HE HAS CHANGED HIS TACTICS. YES CERTAINLY BUT THIS IS THE VERY THING THAT AMAZES ME SO MUCH YOU SPOKE TO HIM IN A LOW TONE OF VOICE WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM. YOU THINK HE LOVES HER YOU ADMIT THAT SUCH A PASSION DOES NOT GIVE WAY READILY HE DOES NOT LOVE HER THEN. THE NOBLE CHARACTER OF THE YOUNG MAN'S COUNTENANCE EXPRESSED A DISPLEASURE WHICH COULD EASILY BE READ. WHAT I SAID TO HIM COUNT REPLIED RAOUL I WILL REPEAT TO YOU LISTEN TO ME. IN THOSE VERY TERMS I EVEN ADDED MORE. HOW WOULD YOU REGARD US I SAID IF YOU WERE TO PERCEIVE AMONG US A MAN MAD ENOUGH DISLOYAL ENOUGH TO ENTERTAIN OTHER THAN SENTIMENTS OF THE MOST PERFECT RESPECT FOR A PRINCESS WHO IS THE DESTINED WIFE OF OUR MASTER. BUT CONTINUED RAOUL NOT INTERRUPTED BY THIS MOVEMENT OF HIS FRIEND HEAVEN BE PRAISED THE FRENCH WHO ARE PRONOUNCED TO BE THOUGHTLESS AND INDISCREET RECKLESS EVEN ARE CAPABLE OF BRINGING A CALM AND SOUND JUDGMENT TO BEAR ON MATTERS OF SUCH HIGH IMPORTANCE. THUS IT IS THAT THE HONOR OF THREE IS SAVED OUR COUNTRY'S OUR MASTER'S AND OUR OWN. IT IS THUS THAT WE ACT YOUR GRACE IT IS THUS THAT EVERY MAN OF HONOR OUGHT TO ACT. BUT NOW I ENTREAT YOU LEAVE ME TO MYSELF DO YOU WISH IT" }, { "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "chapter": "76324", "sourceFile": "test-clean/6930/76324/76324_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "8c901d40a33cacc0abe10fba14bbc32af28941992f70f1b6776a83c87374bfee", "seconds": 234.31, "pieces": 14, "cutLevelsDb": [ 22.5, 35.9, 28.7, 41.4, 33.9, 38.3, 34.5, 35.1, 38.2, 36.0, 25.8, 28.9, 36.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 1, "reference": "GOLIATH MAKES ANOTHER DISCOVERY. OH CYNTHIA. GASPED JOY AT LENGTH ISN'T IT TOO COMICAL. WE'RE JUST AS FAR FROM IT ALL AS EVER. AND THEY BOTH FELL TO CHUCKLING AGAIN. THEY WERE CERTAINLY NO NEARER THE SOLUTION OF THEIR PROBLEM. FOR FACING THE ROOM ONCE MORE THE MYSTERIOUS PICTURE LOOKED FORTH THE PORTRAIT OF TWO BABIES. THEY WERE PLUMP PLACID BABIES AGED PROBABLY ABOUT TWO OR THREE YEARS AND THEY APPEARED PRECISELY ALIKE IT TOOK NO GREAT STRETCH OF IMAGINATION TO CONJECTURE WHAT THEY WERE TWINS AND EVIDENTLY BROTHER AND SISTER FOR ONE YOUNGSTER'S DRESS BEING A TRIFLE SEVERE IN STYLE INDICATED THAT IT WAS DOUBTLESS A BOY. THESE TWO CHERUBIC INFANTS HAD BOTH BIG BROWN EYES FAT RED CHEEKS AND ADORABLE FLUFFY GOLDEN CURLS. THEY WERE PICTURED AS SITTING HAND IN HAND ON A GREEN BANK UNDER A HUGE SPREADING TREE AND GAZING SOLEMNLY TOWARD A DISTANT CHURCH STEEPLE. THE POOR LITTLE THINGS CRIED CYNTHIA THINK OF THEM HAVING BEEN TURNED TO THE WALL ALL THESE YEARS. NOW WHAT WAS THE SENSE OF IT TWO INNOCENT BABIES LIKE THAT. BUT JOYCE HAD NOT BEEN LISTENING ALL AT ONCE SHE PUT DOWN HER CANDLE ON THE TABLE AND FACED HER COMPANION. I'VE GOT IT SHE ANNOUNCED IT CAME TO ME ALL OF A SUDDEN OF COURSE THOSE BABIES ARE TWINS BROTHER AND SISTER ANY ONE CAN TELL THAT. WELL DON'T YOU SEE ONE OF THEM THE GIRL WAS OUR LOVELY LADY. THE TWIN BROTHER DID SOMETHING SHE DIDN'T LIKE AND SHE TURNED HIS PICTURE TO THE WALL. HERS HAPPENED TO BE IN THE SAME FRAME TOO BUT SHE EVIDENTLY DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THAT. NOW WHAT HAVE YOU TO SAY CYNTHIA SPRAGUE. YOU MUST BE RIGHT ADMITTED CYNTHIA. I THOUGHT WE WERE STUMPED AGAIN WHEN I FIRST SAW THAT PICTURE BUT IT'S BEEN OF SOME USE AFTER ALL. DO YOU SUPPOSE THE MINIATURE WAS A COPY OF THE SAME THING. ALL THIS WHILE CYNTHIA HAD BEEN STANDING CANDLE IN ONE HAND AND DUST CLOTH IN THE OTHER. AT THAT POINT SHE PUT THE CANDLESTICK ON THE TABLE AND STOOD GAZING INTENTLY AT THE DUST CLOTH PRESENTLY SHE SPOKE. JOYCE DO YOU THINK THERE WOULD BE ANY HARM IN MY DOING SOMETHING I'VE LONGED TO DO EVER SINCE WE FIRST ENTERED THIS HOUSE. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT QUERIED JOYCE. WHY I WANT TO DUST THIS PLACE AND CLEAR OUT OF THE WAY SOME OF THE DIRT AND COBWEBS. THEY WORRY ME TERRIBLY AND BESIDES I'D LIKE TO SEE WHAT THIS LOVELY FURNITURE LOOKS LIKE WITHOUT SUCH QUANTITIES OF DUST ALL OVER IT GOOD SCHEME CYN. CRIED JOYCE INSTANTLY DELIGHTED WITH THE NEW IDEA I'LL TELL YOU WHAT. WE'LL COME IN HERE THIS AFTERNOON WITH OLD CLOTHES ON AND HAVE A REGULAR HOUSE CLEANING. IT CAN'T HURT ANYTHING I'M SURE FOR WE WON'T DISTURB THINGS AT ALL. BUT LET'S GO AND FINISH OUR STUDYING NOW AND GET THAT OUT OF THE WAY. HURRAH FOR HOUSE CLEANING THIS AFTERNOON. FILLED WITH FRESH ENTHUSIASM THE TWO GIRLS RUSHED OUT TO HURRY THROUGH THE NECESSARY STUDIES BEFORE THE ANTICIPATED PICNIC OF THE AFTERNOON. IF THEIR RESPECTIVE MOTHERS HAD REQUESTED THEM TO PERFORM SO ARDUOUS A TASK AS THIS AT HOME THEY WOULD WITHOUT DOUBT HAVE BEEN INSTANTLY PLUNGED INTO DEEP DESPAIR. THIS THOUGHT HOWEVER DID NOT ENTER THE HEADS OF THE ENTHUSIASTIC PAIR. SMUGGLING THE HOUSE CLEANING PARAPHERNALIA INTO THE CELLAR WINDOW UNOBSERVED THAT AFTERNOON PROVED NO EASY TASK FOR CYNTHIA HAD ADDED A WHISK BROOM AND DUST PAN TO THE OUTFIT. BUT A LONG END SOON WORKED OUT AND TRAILED BEHIND HER UNNOTICED TILL GOLIATH BASKING ON THE VERANDA STEPS SPIED IT. THE LURE PROVED TOO MUCH FOR HIM AND HE CAME SPORTING AFTER IT AS FRISKILY AS A YOUNG KITTEN MUCH TO CYNTHIA'S DELIGHT WHEN SHE CAUGHT SIGHT OF HIM. OH LET HIM COME ALONG SHE URGED I DO LOVE TO SEE HIM ABOUT THAT OLD HOUSE. HE MAKES IT SORT OF COZIER. AND SO GOLIATH FOLLOWED INTO THE BOARDED UP HOUSE" }, { "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "chapter": "81414", "sourceFile": "test-clean/6930/81414/81414_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "f41ee738e607464aa355fbbd08a1817c74d4f21acb95ab73c9b147225b2a810f", "seconds": 234.11, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 35.1, 35.1, 32.7, 28.2, 29.2, 29.9, 35.0, 34.0, 35.3, 32.7, 36.9, 24.1, 35.9, 36.5, 32.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 1, "reference": "I SUPPOSE I MUST HAVE GONE ON BLINDLY FOR SOME TIME FOR WHEN I AGAIN BECAME CONSCIOUS I STOOD BESIDE A RIVER WHILE TALL TREES WAVED THEIR LEAFLESS BRANCHES OVERHEAD. STRANGE NOISES FILLED THE AIR. SOMETIMES WAILING SOUNDS WERE WAFTED TO ME WHICH PRESENTLY CHANGED INTO HISSES UNTIL IT SEEMED AS IF A THOUSAND SERPENTS WERE CREEPING ALL AROUND ME. THE WATERS OF THE RIVER LOOKED BLACK WHILE ABOVE ME WERE WEIRD FANTASTIC FORMS LEAPING IN THE STILLNESS OF THE NIGHT. NO WORDS WERE SPOKEN NO LANGUAGE WAS UTTERED SAVE THAT OF WAILING AND HISSING AND THAT SOMEHOW WAS INDISTINCT AS IF IT EXISTED IN FANCY AND NOT IN REALITY. BY AND BY HOWEVER I HEARD A VOICE. ONWARD IT SAID AND I BECAME UNCONSCIOUS. AGAIN I REALIZED MY EXISTENCE IN A VAGUE SHADOWY WAY. I STOOD BENEATH THE RUINED WALLS OF AN EASTERN TEMPLE. LARGE GREY LIZARDS CRAWLED IN AND OUT AMONG THE CREVICES OF THE ROCKS AND SEEMED TO LAUGH AS THEY SPORTED AMIDST WHAT WAS ONCE THE EXPRESSION OF A GREAT RELIGIOUS SYSTEM BUT WHICH WAS NOW TERRIBLE IN ITS WEIRD DESOLATION. I WATCHED EAGERLY BUT THEY FADED AWAY LEAVING NOTHING SAVE THE FEELING THAT A TERRIBLE PRESENCE FILLED THE PLACE. I HEARD A NOISE BEHIND I TURNED AND SAW KAFFAR HIS BLACK EYES SHINING WHILE IN HIS HAND HE HELD A GLEAMING KNIFE HE LIFTED IT ABOVE HIS HEAD AS IF TO STRIKE BUT I HAD THE STRENGTH OF TEN MEN AND I HURLED HIM FROM ME. HE LOOKED AT ME WITH A SAVAGE LEER. ONWARD SAID A DISTANT VOICE. THE TEMPLE VANISHED AND WITH IT ALL MY REALIZATION OF LIFE SAVE A VAGUE FANCY THAT I WAS MOVING SOMEWHERE I KNEW NOT WHERE. I STOOD BY A WELL REMEMBERED SPOT I WAS BY THE SIDE OF DREARWATER POND. AROUND ME WAS A STRETCH OF COMMON LAND ON WHICH GREW HEATHER AND FURZE. IN FRONT OF ME WERE NOISELESS WATERS A DISMAL SIGHT AT THE BEST OF TIMES BUT AWFUL AS I SAW THEM ACROSS THE POND IN THE NEAR DISTANCE LOOMED THE DARK FIR TREES. NO SOUND BROKE THE STILLNESS OF THE NIGHT. THE WIND HAD GONE TO REST THE MOON SHONE DIMLY FROM BEHIND THE MISTY CLOUDS. I STOOD ALONE. EACH MINUTE MY SURROUNDINGS BECAME MORE REAL. I RECOGNIZED MORE CLEARLY THE OBJECTS WHICH HAD STRUCK ME DURING MY FIRST VISIT WHILE THE STORIES WHICH HAD BEEN TOLD CAME BACK TO ME WITH TERRIBLE DISTINCTNESS. THE STORY OF ITS EVIL INFLUENCE CAME BACK TO ME AND IN MY BEWILDERED CONDITION I WONDERED WHETHER THERE WAS NOT SOME TRUTH IN WHAT HAD BEEN SAID. WHAT WAS THAT. THE WATERS MOVED DISTINCTLY MOVED NEAR TO WHERE I STOOD AND FROM THEIR DARK DEPTHS SOMETHING APPEARED I COULD NOT AT FIRST TELL WHAT. WHAT COULD IT BE. THE GHOST OF SOME MURDERED MAN OR WOMAN. WHAT THEN A HUMAN HAND LARGE AND SHAPELY APPEARED DISTINCTLY ON THE SURFACE OF THE POND. NOTHING MORE NOT EVEN THE WRIST TO WHICH IT MIGHT BE ATTACHED. IT DID NOT BECKON OR INDEED MOVE AT ALL IT WAS AS STILL AS THE HAND OF DEATH. I STOOD MOTIONLESS AND WATCHED WHILE THE OUTLINE OF THE HAND BECAME MORE CLEAR THEN I GAVE AN AWFUL SHUDDER. THE HAND WAS RED. I GAVE A SHRIEK AND FOR A TIME REMEMBERED NOTHING MORE" }, { "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "chapter": "79730", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7021/79730/79730_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "9de88120b3a2343f52744e25f38f64b3c4facbf169bf8a8fed9daaaa4505f25b", "seconds": 228.76, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 61.7, 63.2, 63.8, 59.7, 63.0, 59.8, 63.2, 61.9, 60.9, 62.0, 62.2, 63.6, 61.5, 63.0, 59.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE THREE MODES OF MANAGEMENT. TO SUPPOSE THAT THE OBJECT OF THIS WORK IS TO AID IN EFFECTING SUCH A SUBSTITUTION AS THAT IS ENTIRELY TO MISTAKE ITS NATURE AND DESIGN. THE ONLY GOVERNMENT OF THE PARENT OVER THE CHILD THAT IS WORTHY OF THE NAME IS ONE OF AUTHORITY COMPLETE ABSOLUTE UNQUESTIONED AUTHORITY. THEY ARE ONE. GOVERNMENT BY MANOEUVRING AND ARTIFICE TWO. BY REASON AND AFFECTION. THREE BY AUTHORITY. SHE BRINGS DOWN HER BONNET AND SHAWL BY STEALTH AND BEFORE THE CHAISE COMES TO THE DOOR SHE SENDS MARY OUT INTO THE GARDEN WITH HER SISTER UNDER PRETENSE OF SHOWING HER A BIRD'S NEST WHICH IS NOT THERE TRUSTING TO HER SISTER'S SKILL IN DIVERTING THE CHILD'S MIND AND AMUSING HER WITH SOMETHING ELSE IN THE GARDEN UNTIL THE CHAISE HAS GONE. AS THE CHAISE DRIVES AWAY MARY STANDS BEWILDERED AND PERPLEXED ON THE DOOR STEP HER MIND IN A TUMULT OF EXCITEMENT IN WHICH HATRED OF THE DOCTOR DISTRUST AND SUSPICION OF HER MOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT VEXATION AND ILL HUMOR SURGE AND SWELL AMONG THOSE DELICATE ORGANIZATIONS ON WHICH THE STRUCTURE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOUL SO CLOSELY DEPEND DOING PERHAPS AN IRREPARABLE INJURY. THE MOTHER AS SOON AS THE CHAISE IS SO FAR TURNED THAT MARY CAN NO LONGER WATCH THE EXPRESSION OF HER COUNTENANCE GOES AWAY FROM THE DOOR WITH A SMILE OF COMPLACENCY AND SATISFACTION UPON HER FACE AT THE INGENUITY AND SUCCESS OF HER LITTLE ARTIFICE. IN RESPECT TO HER STATEMENT THAT SHE WAS GOING TO THE DOCTOR'S IT MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN TRUE. MOST LIKELY NOT FOR MOTHERS WHO MANAGE THEIR CHILDREN ON THIS SYSTEM FIND THE LINE OF DEMARKATION BETWEEN DECEIT AND FALSEHOOD SO VAGUE AND ILL DEFINED THAT THEY SOON FALL INTO THE HABIT OF DISREGARDING IT ALTOGETHER AND OF SAYING WITHOUT HESITATION ANY THING WHICH WILL SERVE THE PURPOSE IN VIEW. YOU LOVE MAMMA I AM SURE AND WISH TO HAVE HER GET WELL SOON. SO YOU WILL BE A GOOD GIRL I KNOW AND NOT MAKE ANY TROUBLE BUT WILL STAY AT HOME CONTENTEDLY WON'T YOU. THEN I SHALL LOVE YOU AND YOUR PAPA WILL LOVE YOU AND AFTER I GET WELL WE WILL TAKE YOU TO RIDE WITH US SOME DAY. THE MOTHER IN MANAGING THE CASE IN THIS WAY RELIES PARTLY ON CONVINCING THE REASON OF THE CHILD AND PARTLY ON AN APPEAL TO HER AFFECTION. MARY YOUR FATHER AND I ARE GOING OUT TO RIDE THIS AFTERNOON AND I AM SORRY FOR YOUR SAKE THAT WE CAN NOT TAKE YOU WITH US. WHY CAN'T YOU TAKE ME ASKS MARY. I CAN NOT TELL YOU WHY NOW REPLIES THE MOTHER BUT PERHAPS I WILL EXPLAIN IT TO YOU AFTER I COME HOME. I THINK THERE IS A GOOD REASON AND AT ANY RATE I HAVE DECIDED THAT YOU ARE NOT TO GO IF YOU ARE A GOOD GIRL AND DO NOT MAKE ANY DIFFICULTY YOU CAN HAVE YOUR LITTLE CHAIR OUT UPON THE FRONT DOOR STEP AND CAN SEE THE CHAISE COME TO THE DOOR AND SEE YOUR FATHER AND ME GET IN AND DRIVE AWAY AND YOU CAN WAVE YOUR HANDKERCHIEF TO US FOR A GOOD BYE. THEN IF SHE OBSERVES ANY EXPRESSION OF DISCONTENT OR INSUBMISSION IN MARY'S COUNTENANCE THE MOTHER WOULD ADD" }, { "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "chapter": "79740", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7021/79740/79740_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "b1ff0bb2246b7d8675e1d9bf5b6f2b73c52c32b267d629c99c037e10de3415ca", "seconds": 239.82, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 66.5, 74.7, 74.7, 77.7, 75.9, 75.3, 73.7, 49.0, 74.0, 78.0, 76.7, 75.5, 74.7, 74.8, 73.2, 76.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "DELLA AND THE DOLLS. THIS BOOK MAY PERHAPS SOMETIMES FALL INTO THE HANDS OF PERSONS WHO HAVE TEMPORARILY OR OTHERWISE THE CHARGE OF YOUNG CHILDREN WITHOUT ANY ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY OVER THEM OR ANY MEANS OR EVEN ANY RIGHT TO ENFORCE THEIR COMMANDS AS WAS THE CASE IN FACT WITH THE OLDER BROTHERS OR SISTER REFERRED TO IN THE PRECEDING ILLUSTRATIONS. TO SUCH PERSONS THESE INDIRECT MODES OF TRAINING CHILDREN IN HABITS OF SUBORDINATION TO THEIR WILL OR RATHER OF YIELDING TO THEIR INFLUENCE ARE SPECIALLY USEFUL. SUCH PERSONS MAY BE INTERESTED IN THE MANNER IN WHICH DELIA MADE USE OF THE CHILDREN'S DOLLS AS A MEANS OF GUIDING AND GOVERNING THEIR LITTLE MOTHERS DELLA. DELLA HAD A YOUNG SISTER NAMED MARIA AND A COUSIN WHOSE NAME WAS JANE. NOW DELIA CONTRIVED TO OBTAIN A GREAT INFLUENCE AND ASCENDENCY OVER THE MINDS OF THE CHILDREN BY MEANS OF THESE DOLLS. LECTURES TO THE DOLLS. BUT BEING ADDRESSED TO THE DOLLS THEY WOULD BE GREATLY INTERESTED IN IT AND WOULD LISTEN WITH THE UTMOST ATTENTION AND THERE IS NO DOUBT THAT THE COUNSELS AND INSTRUCTIONS WHICH SHE GAVE MADE A MUCH STRONGER IMPRESSION UPON THEIR MINDS THAN IF THEY HAD BEEN ADDRESSED DIRECTLY TO THE CHILDREN THEMSELVES. TO GIVE AN IDEA OF THESE CONVERSATIONS I WILL REPORT ONE OF THEM IN FULL. I AM VERY GLAD TO SEE YOU HOW NICE YOU LOOK. YOU HAVE COME ANDELLA ANDELLA WAS THE NAME OF JANE'S DOLL TO MAKE ROSALIE A VISIT. I AM VERY GLAD. YOU WILL HAVE A VERY PLEASANT TIME I AM SURE BECAUSE YOU NEVER QUARREL. I OBSERVE THAT WHEN YOU BOTH WISH FOR THE SAME THING YOU DON'T QUARREL FOR IT AND TRY TO PULL IT AWAY FROM ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE WAITS LIKE A LADY UNTIL THE OTHER HAS DONE WITH IT. I EXPECT YOU HAVE BEEN A VERY GOOD GIRL ANDELLA SINCE YOU WERE HERE LAST. THEN TURNING TO JANE SHE ASKED IN A SOMEWHAT ALTERED TONE HAS SHE BEEN A GOOD GIRL JANE. AND YOU DON'T LOOK VERY WELL NOW. YOU MUST TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF AND IF YOU DON'T FEEL WELL YOU MUST ASK YOUR MOTHER TO BRING YOU IN TO ME AND I WILL GIVE YOU A DOSE OF MY MEDICINE MY AQUA SACCHARINA. A MEDIUM OF REPROOF. DELIA WAS ACCUSTOMED TO USE THE DOLLS NOT ONLY FOR THE PURPOSE OF INSTRUCTION BUT SOMETIMES FOR REPROOF IN MANY INGENIOUS WAYS. FOR INSTANCE ONE DAY THE CHILDREN HAD BEEN PLAYING UPON THE PIAZZA WITH BLOCKS AND OTHER PLAYTHINGS AND FINALLY HAD GONE INTO THE HOUSE LEAVING ALL THE THINGS ON THE FLOOR OF THE PIAZZA INSTEAD OF PUTTING THEM AWAY IN THEIR PLACES AS THEY OUGHT TO HAVE DONE. THEY WERE NOW PLAYING WITH THEIR DOLLS IN THE PARLOR. DELIA CAME TO THE PARLOR AND WITH AN AIR OF GREAT MYSTERY BECKONED THE CHILDREN ASIDE AND SAID TO THEM IN A WHISPER LEAVE ANDELLA AND ROSALIE HERE AND DON'T SAY A WORD TO THEM. I WANT YOU TO COME WITH ME. THERE IS A SECRET SOMETHING I WOULD NOT HAVE THEM KNOW ON ANY ACCOUNT. SO SAYING SHE LED THE WAY ON TIPTOE FOLLOWED BY THE CHILDREN OUT OF THE ROOM AND ROUND BY A CIRCUITOUS ROUTE TO THE PIAZZA THERE. SAID SHE POINTING TO THE PLAYTHINGS SEE. ALL YOUR PLAYTHINGS LEFT OUT. PUT THEM AWAY QUICK BEFORE ANDELLA AND ROSALIE SEE THEM I WOULD NOT HAVE THEM KNOW THAT THEIR MOTHERS LEAVE THEIR PLAYTHINGS ABOUT IN THAT WAY FOR ANY CONSIDERATION. THEY WOULD THINK THAT THEY MIGHT DO SO TOO AND THAT WOULD MAKE YOU A GREAT DEAL OF TROUBLE" }, { "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "chapter": "79759", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7021/79759/79759_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "c39721d3d1d514766bf15295d371f1e06968502e4cde92e141160289353e0c59", "seconds": 193.64, "pieces": 13, "cutLevelsDb": [ 59.8, 61.4, 61.7, 61.8, 61.3, 60.8, 61.8, 55.4, 60.1, 64.2, 62.1, 61.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "IF FOR EXAMPLE HE READS AN ACCOUNT OF TRANSACTIONS REPRESENTED AS TAKING PLACE IN AN ENGLISH PALACE OR CASTLE HE WILL USUALLY ON A CAREFUL SCRUTINY FIND THAT THE BASIS OF HIS CONCEPTION OF THE SCENE IS DERIVED FROM THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE ROOMS OF SOME FINE HOUSE WITH WHICH HE WAS FAMILIAR IN EARLY LIFE. NATURE OF THE EFFECT PRODUCED BY EARLY IMPRESSIONS. THAT IS COMPARATIVELY NOTHING. YOU HAVE MADE A LIFE LONG CHANGE IF NOT IN THE VERY STRUCTURE AT LEAST IN THE PERMANENT FURNISHING OF HER MIND AND PERFORMED A WORK THAT CAN NEVER BY ANY POSSIBILITY BE UNDONE. THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF GENERAL IDEAS. IT IS THE SAME SUBSTANTIALLY IN RESPECT TO ALL THOSE ABSTRACT AND GENERAL IDEAS ON MORAL OR OTHER KINDRED SUBJECTS WHICH CONSTITUTE THE MENTAL FURNISHING OF THE ADULT MAN AND HAVE SO GREAT AN INFLUENCE IN THE FORMATION OF HIS HABITS OF THOUGHT AND OF HIS CHARACTER. THEY ARE CHIEFLY FORMED FROM COMBINATIONS OF THE IMPRESSIONS MADE IN CHILDHOOD. EVERY STORY THEREFORE WHICH YOU RELATE TO A CHILD TO EXEMPLIFY THE PRINCIPLES OF JUSTICE OR GOODNESS TAKES ITS PLACE OR RATHER THE IMPRESSION WHICH IT MAKES TAKES ITS PLACE AS ONE OF THE ELEMENTS OUT OF WHICH THE IDEAS THAT ARE TO GOVERN HIS FUTURE LIFE ARE FORMED. VAST IMPORTANCE AND INFLUENCE OF THIS MENTAL FURNISHING. WITHOUT GOING TO ANY SUCH EXTREME AS THIS WE CAN EASILY SEE ON REFLECTION HOW VAST AN INFLUENCE ON THE IDEAS AND CONCEPTIONS AS WELL AS ON THE PRINCIPLES OF ACTION IN MATURE YEARS MUST BE EXERTED BY THE NATURE AND CHARACTER OF THE IMAGES WHICH THE PERIOD OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD IMPRESSES UPON THE MIND. AMONG THE OTHER BEARINGS OF THIS THOUGHT IT GIVES GREAT WEIGHT TO THE IMPORTANCE OF EMPLOYING GENTLE MEASURES IN THE MANAGEMENT AND TRAINING OF THE YOUNG PROVIDED THAT SUCH MEASURES CAN BE MADE EFFECTUAL IN THE ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE END. THE PAIN PRODUCED BY AN ACT OF HASTY AND ANGRY VIOLENCE TO WHICH A FATHER SUBJECTS HIS SON MAY SOON PASS AWAY BUT THE MEMORY OF IT DOES NOT PASS AWAY WITH THE PAIN. EVEN THE REMEMBRANCE OF IT MAY AT LENGTH FADE FROM THE MIND BUT THERE IS STILL AN EFFECT WHICH DOES NOT PASS AWAY WITH THE REMEMBRANCE. EVERY STRONG IMPRESSION WHICH YOU MAKE UPON HIS PERCEPTIVE POWERS MUST HAVE A VERY LASTING INFLUENCE AND EVEN THE IMPRESSION ITSELF MAY IN SOME CASES BE FOREVER INDELIBLE. LET US THEN TAKE CARE THAT THESE IMPRESSIONS SHALL BE AS FAR AS POSSIBLE SUCH AS SHALL BE SOURCES OF ENJOYMENT FOR THEM IN FUTURE YEARS" }, { "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "chapter": "85628", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7021/85628/85628_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "856b4ef06cc441815f11c4fb0c4856242da5c04468c48229cfb430858d58abda", "seconds": 232.67, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 55.1, 53.8, 54.1, 55.1, 54.1, 40.7, 40.6, 39.9, 44.6, 61.6, 62.8, 62.2, 58.6, 58.2, 61.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "BUT ANDERS CARED NOTHING ABOUT THAT. HE PUT HIS HANDS IN HIS TROUSERS POCKETS AND WENT OUT FOR A WALK FOR HE DID NOT BEGRUDGE ANYBODY'S SEEING HOW FINE HE WAS. THE FIRST PERSON HE MET WAS A FARM LABOURER WALKING ALONGSIDE A LOAD OF PEAT AND SMACKING AT HIS HORSE. HE MADE A BOW SO DEEP THAT HIS BACK CAME NEAR BREAKING AND HE WAS DUMBFOUNDED I CAN TELL YOU WHEN HE SAW IT WAS NOBODY BUT ANDERS. DEAR ME HE SAID IF I DID NOT THINK IT WAS THE GRACIOUS LITTLE COUNT HIMSELF. AND THEN HE INVITED ANDERS TO RIDE ON THE PEAT LOAD. BUT WHEN ONE HAS A FINE RED CAP WITH A BLUE TASSEL ONE IS TOO FINE TO RIDE ON PEAT LOADS AND ANDERS TROTTED PROUDLY BY. AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD HE RAN UP AGAINST THE TANNER'S BOY LARS. HE WAS SUCH A BIG BOY THAT HE WORE HIGH BOOTS AND CARRIED A JACK KNIFE. HE GAZED AND GAZED AT THE CAP AND COULD NOT KEEP FROM FINGERING THE BLUE TASSEL. LET'S SWAP CAPS HE SAID AND I WILL GIVE YOU MY JACK KNIFE TO BOOT. NOW THIS KNIFE WAS A SPLENDID ONE THOUGH HALF THE BLADE WAS GONE AND THE HANDLE WAS A LITTLE CRACKED AND ANDERS KNEW THAT ONE IS ALMOST A MAN AS SOON AS ONE HAS A JACK KNIFE. OH NO I AM NOT AS STUPID AS ALL THAT. AND THEN HE SAID GOOD BYE TO LARS WITH A NOD BUT LARS ONLY MADE FACES AT HIM FOR HE WAS VERY MUCH PUT OUT BECAUSE HE COULD NOT CHEAT ANDERS OUT OF HIS CAP WHICH HIS MOTHER HAD MADE. SHE CALLED HIM A LITTLE GENTLEMAN AND SAID THAT HE WAS SO FINE THAT HE MIGHT GO TO THE ROYAL COURT BALL. YES WHY NOT THOUGHT ANDERS. SEEING THAT I AM SO FINE I MAY AS WELL GO AND VISIT THE KING. AND SO HE DID. IN THE PALACE YARD STOOD TWO SOLDIERS WITH SHINING HELMETS AND WITH MUSKETS OVER THEIR SHOULDERS AND WHEN ANDERS CAME BOTH THE MUSKETS WERE LEVELLED AT HIM. WHERE MAY YOU BE GOING ASKED ONE OF THE SOLDIERS. I AM GOING TO THE COURT BALL ANSWERED ANDERS. INDEED YOU ARE NOT SAID THE OTHER SOLDIER AND PUT HIS FOOT FORWARD. BUT JUST AT THIS INSTANT THE PRINCESS CAME TRIPPING ACROSS THE YARD. SHE WAS DRESSED IN WHITE SILK WITH BOWS OF RIBBON. WHEN SHE BECAME AWARE OF ANDERS AND THE SOLDIERS SHE WALKED OVER TO THEM. OH SHE SAID HE HAS SUCH AN EXTRAORDINARILY FINE CAP ON HIS HEAD THAT THAT WILL DO JUST AS WELL AS A UNIFORM. AND SHE TOOK ANDERS HAND AND WALKED WITH HIM UP THE BROAD MARBLE STAIRS WHERE SOLDIERS WERE POSTED AT EVERY THIRD STEP AND THROUGH THE MAGNIFICENT HALLS WHERE COURTIERS IN SILK AND VELVET STOOD BOWING WHEREVER HE WENT. FOR LIKE AS NOT THEY MUST HAVE THOUGHT HIM A PRINCE WHEN THEY SAW HIS FINE CAP. AT THE FARTHER END OF THE LARGEST HALL A TABLE WAS SET WITH GOLDEN CUPS AND GOLDEN PLATES IN LONG ROWS. ON HUGE SILVER PLATTERS WERE PYRAMIDS OF TARTS AND CAKES AND RED WINE SPARKLED IN GLITTERING DECANTERS. THE PRINCESS SAT DOWN UNDER A BLUE CANOPY WITH BOUQUETS OF ROSES AND SHE LET ANDERS SIT IN A GOLDEN CHAIR BY HER SIDE. BUT YOU MUST NOT EAT WITH YOUR CAP ON YOUR HEAD SHE SAID AND WAS GOING TO TAKE IT OFF" }, { "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "chapter": "75946", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7127/75946/75946_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "5bad0d29361e9da420dcaa25464bc4a8ff79064d3e34ca50c3c28ab824e1854f", "seconds": 227.36, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 59.6, 27.0, 28.6, 28.8, 30.0, 29.5, 30.8, 33.3, 28.1, 31.3, 28.5, 28.9, 29.6, 28.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "AT THE CONCLUSION OF THE BANQUET WHICH WAS SERVED AT FIVE O'CLOCK THE KING ENTERED HIS CABINET WHERE HIS TAILORS WERE AWAITING HIM FOR THE PURPOSE OF TRYING ON THE CELEBRATED COSTUME REPRESENTING SPRING WHICH WAS THE RESULT OF SO MUCH IMAGINATION AND HAD COST SO MANY EFFORTS OF THOUGHT TO THE DESIGNERS AND ORNAMENT WORKERS OF THE COURT. AS FOR THE BALLET ITSELF EVERY PERSON KNEW THE PART HE HAD TO TAKE IN IT AND HOW TO PERFORM IT. THE KING HAD RESOLVED TO MAKE IT SURPRISE. BOTH REPLIED THAT THEY ONLY AWAITED HIS ORDERS AND THAT EVERYTHING WAS READY TO BEGIN BUT THAT IT WAS NECESSARY TO BE SURE OF FINE WEATHER AND A FAVORABLE NIGHT BEFORE THESE ORDERS COULD BE CARRIED OUT. THE KING OPENED HIS WINDOW THE PALE GOLD HUES OF THE EVENING WERE VISIBLE ON THE HORIZON THROUGH THE VISTAS OF THE WOOD AND THE MOON WHITE AS SNOW WAS ALREADY MOUNTING THE HEAVENS. NOT A RIPPLE COULD BE NOTICED ON THE SURFACE OF THE GREEN WATERS THE SWANS THEMSELVES EVEN REPOSING WITH FOLDED WINGS LIKE SHIPS AT ANCHOR SEEMED INSPIRATIONS OF THE WARMTH OF THE AIR THE FRESHNESS OF THE WATER AND THE SILENCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL EVENING. AH VERY WELL. LET HIM COME IN THEN SAID THE KING AND AS IF COLBERT HAD BEEN LISTENING AT THE DOOR FOR THE PURPOSE OF KEEPING HIMSELF AU COURANT WITH THE CONVERSATION HE ENTERED AS SOON AS THE KING HAD PRONOUNCED HIS NAME TO THE TWO COURTIERS. GENTLEMEN TO YOUR POSTS WHEREUPON SAINT AIGNAN AND VILLEROY TOOK THEIR LEAVE. CERTAINLY SIRE BUT I MUST HAVE MONEY TO DO THAT WHAT. SIRE THEY WERE SENT AT THE HOUR PROMISED WELL. WELL SIRE THE COLORED LAMPS THE FIREWORKS THE MUSICIANS AND THE COOKS HAVE SWALLOWED UP FOUR MILLIONS IN EIGHT DAYS. ENTIRELY TO THE LAST PENNY. EVERY TIME YOUR MAJESTY DIRECTED THE BANKS OF THE GRAND CANAL TO BE ILLUMINATED AS MUCH OIL WAS CONSUMED AS THERE WAS WATER IN THE BASINS. WHAT DO YOU MEAN INQUIRED LOUIS. HE HAS GIVEN THEM WITH TOO MUCH GRACE NOT TO HAVE OTHERS STILL TO GIVE IF THEY ARE REQUIRED WHICH IS THE CASE AT THE PRESENT MOMENT. IT IS NECESSARY THEREFORE THAT HE SHOULD COMPLY THE KING FROWNED. COLBERT TURNED PALE AND YET HE SAID YOUR MAJESTY DID NOT USE THIS LANGUAGE SOME TIME AGO WHEN THE NEWS ABOUT BELLE ISLE ARRIVED FOR INSTANCE. IN MY THOUGHTS MONSIEUR EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. DOES YOUR MAJESTY THEN NO LONGER BELIEVE THE DISLOYAL ATTEMPT. MY AFFAIRS CONCERN MYSELF ALONE MONSIEUR AND I HAVE ALREADY TOLD YOU I TRANSACT THEM WITHOUT INTERFERENCE. THEN I PERCEIVE SAID COLBERT TREMBLING WITH ANGER AND FEAR THAT I HAVE HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO FALL INTO DISGRACE WITH YOUR MAJESTY. NOT AT ALL YOU ARE ON THE CONTRARY MOST AGREEABLE TO ME. YET SIRE SAID THE MINISTER WITH A CERTAIN AFFECTED BLUNTNESS SO SUCCESSFUL WHEN IT WAS A QUESTION OF FLATTERING LOUIS'S SELF ESTEEM WHAT USE IS THERE IN BEING AGREEABLE TO YOUR MAJESTY IF ONE CAN NO LONGER BE OF ANY USE. I RESERVE YOUR SERVICES FOR A BETTER OCCASION AND BELIEVE ME THEY WILL ONLY BE THE BETTER APPRECIATED. YOUR MAJESTY'S PLAN THEN IN THIS AFFAIR IS. YOU WILL TAKE THEM FROM MY PRIVATE TREASURE. THE KING TOOK A PEN AND SIGNED AN ORDER IMMEDIATELY THEN HANDED IT TO COLBERT. THE ORDER ISSUED BY THE KING WAS KNOWN THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE OF FONTAINEBLEAU IT WAS ALREADY KNOWN TOO THAT THE KING WAS TRYING ON HIS COSTUME AND THAT THE BALLET WOULD BE DANCED IN THE EVENING. THE NEWS CIRCULATED WITH THE RAPIDITY OF LIGHTNING DURING ITS PROGRESS IT KINDLED EVERY VARIETY OF COQUETRY DESIRE AND WILD AMBITION" }, { "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "chapter": "75947", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7127/75947/75947_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "183c80d0286d8b81006a753db52aa94c6b27d230c465d906a3d017a519dabda2", "seconds": 235.73, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 46.5, 47.2, 50.1, 46.5, 47.6, 48.6, 49.9, 47.9, 46.6, 51.6, 50.4, 49.4, 46.0, 46.9, 48.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE KING REMAINED FOR A MOMENT TO ENJOY A TRIUMPH AS COMPLETE AS IT COULD POSSIBLY BE. HE THEN TURNED TOWARDS MADAME FOR THE PURPOSE OF ADMIRING HER ALSO A LITTLE IN HER TURN. YOUNG PERSONS LOVE WITH MORE VIVACITY PERHAPS WITH GREATER ARDOR AND DEEPER PASSION THAN OTHERS MORE ADVANCED IN YEARS BUT ALL THE OTHER FEELINGS ARE AT THE SAME TIME DEVELOPED IN PROPORTION TO THEIR YOUTH AND VIGOR SO THAT VANITY BEING WITH THEM ALMOST ALWAYS THE EQUIVALENT OF LOVE THE LATTER FEELING ACCORDING TO THE LAWS OF EQUIPOISE NEVER ATTAINS THAT DEGREE OF PERFECTION WHICH IT ACQUIRES IN MEN AND WOMEN FROM THIRTY TO FIVE AND THIRTY YEARS OF AGE. LOUIS THOUGHT OF MADAME BUT ONLY AFTER HE HAD STUDIOUSLY THOUGHT OF HIMSELF AND MADAME CAREFULLY THOUGHT OF HERSELF WITHOUT BESTOWING A SINGLE THOUGHT UPON THE KING. EVERY ONE COULD OBSERVE HIS AGITATION AND PROSTRATION A PROSTRATION WHICH WAS INDEED THE MORE REMARKABLE SINCE PEOPLE WERE NOT ACCUSTOMED TO SEE HIM WITH HIS ARMS HANGING LISTLESSLY BY HIS SIDE HIS HEAD BEWILDERED AND HIS EYES WITH ALL THEIR BRIGHT INTELLIGENCE BEDIMMED. ALL THESE SUFFERINGS SUCCESSES AND REMARKS WERE BLENDED CONFOUNDED AND LOST IN THE UPROAR OF APPLAUSE. UPON THIS MADAME DEIGNED TO TURN HER EYES LANGUISHINGLY TOWARDS THE COMTE OBSERVING. THE COMTE'S PATIENCE ALMOST FORSOOK HIM AS HE CONTINUED YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS DANCED JUST NOW MOST CHARMINGLY. DO YOU THINK SO SHE REPLIED WITH INDIFFERENCE. YES THE CHARACTER WHICH YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS ASSUMED IS IN PERFECT HARMONY WITH YOUR OWN. OH THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT OF IT. EXPLAIN YOURSELF. YOU REPRESENTED A DIVINITY BEAUTIFUL DISDAINFUL INCONSTANT. YOU MEAN POMONA COMTE. I ALLUDE TO THE GODDESS. NAY MADAME I AM ONLY ONE OF THOSE WHO ARE NEVER NOTICED OR WHO ARE SOON FORGOTTEN IF THEY EVER HAPPEN TO BE NOTICED. WITH THIS REMARK ACCOMPANIED BY ONE OF THOSE DEEP SIGHS WHICH AFFECT THE REMOTEST FIBERS OF ONE'S BEING HIS HEART BURDENED WITH SORROW AND THROBBING FAST HIS HEAD ON FIRE AND HIS GAZE WANDERING HE BOWED BREATHLESSLY AND WITHDREW BEHIND THE THICKET. THE ONLY REPLY MADAME CONDESCENDED TO MAKE WAS BY SLIGHTLY RAISING HER SHOULDERS AND AS HER LADIES OF HONOR HAD DISCREETLY RETIRED WHILE THE CONVERSATION LASTED SHE RECALLED THEM BY A LOOK. THE LADIES WERE MADEMOISELLE DE TONNAY CHARENTE AND MADEMOISELLE DE MONTALAIS. DID YOU HEAR WHAT THE COMTE DE GUICHE SAID. THE PRINCESS INQUIRED NO. AND THEN IN A LOUDER VOICE FEARFUL LEST HER UNHAPPY VICTIM MIGHT LOSE A SYLLABLE SHE SAID IN THE FIRST PLACE HE DANCED BADLY AND AFTERWARDS HIS REMARKS WERE VERY SILLY. SHE THEN ROSE HUMMING THE AIR TO WHICH SHE WAS PRESENTLY GOING TO DANCE. THE ARROW PIERCED HIS HEART AND WOUNDED HIM MORTALLY. THEN AT THE RISK OF INTERRUPTING THE PROGRESS OF THE FETE BY HIS ANNOYANCE HE FLED FROM THE SCENE TEARING HIS BEAUTIFUL COSTUME OF AUTUMN IN PIECES AND SCATTERING AS HE WENT ALONG THE BRANCHES OF VINES MULBERRY AND ALMOND TREES WITH ALL THE OTHER ARTIFICIAL ATTRIBUTES OF HIS ASSUMED DIVINITY. A QUARTER OF AN HOUR AFTERWARDS HE RETURNED TO THE THEATER BUT IT WILL BE READILY BELIEVED THAT IT WAS ONLY A POWERFUL EFFORT OF REASON OVER HIS GREAT EXCITEMENT THAT ENABLED HIM TO GO BACK OR PERHAPS FOR LOVE IS THUS STRANGELY CONSTITUTED HE FOUND IT IMPOSSIBLE EVEN TO REMAIN MUCH LONGER SEPARATED FROM THE PRESENCE OF ONE WHO HAD BROKEN HIS HEART. MADAME WAS FINISHING HER FIGURE" }, { "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "chapter": "88083", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7176/88083/88083_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "9f70f5f6cba015707f3a38a206738654865e211632d4b8cb7aa51eadd7e18470", "seconds": 239.53, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 38.5, 39.5, 39.1, 38.7, 35.2, 40.1, 38.4, 38.9, 33.6, 42.5, 33.8, 37.2, 42.7, 37.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "IT DIRECTLY OVERHUNG A TRANSPARENT AMBER BROWN CHUTE OF UNBROKEN WATER IN THE MIDST OF THE LOUD TURMOIL OF NORTH FORK RAPIDS. THE STRANGE MANNERED DUCK HAD NO PROPER TALONS WHEREWITH TO GRASP HIS PERCH BUT HIS STRONG CLAWED WEBS HELD HIM STEADILY NONE THE LESS AS HE PEERED DOWNWARD INTO THE CLEAR RUSH OF THE TORRENT. HERE WHERE THE NORTH FORK STREAM FELL INTO THE OTTANOONSIS WAS A RESORT EXACTLY TO HIS LIKING. AND MOST OF THE FISH TROUT SALMON GRILSE OR PARR WHICH JOURNEYED UP AND DOWN EITHER THE FORK OR THE PARENT RIVER CHOSE TO PASS THROUGH THAT SLUICE OF SWIFT BUT UNBROKEN FLOW IMMEDIATELY BENEATH THE OVERHANGING BRANCH ON WHICH HE PERCHED. FOR ALL THE SPLENDOR OF HIS PLUMAGE THE MERGANSER WAS NOT CONSPICUOUS WHERE HE SAT. ALL ABOUT HIM WAS A TUMULT OF BRIGHT AND BROKEN COLOR SCATTERED IN BROAD SPLASHES. THE RAPIDS WERE FOAM WHITE OR GOLDEN RUDDY OR DEEP SHINING GREEN BROWN UNDER THE SHARP AND PATCHY SUNLIGHT AND THEY WERE SOWN THICKLY WITH WET BLACK ROCKS HERE AND THERE GLINTING WITH PURPLE. THE MERGANSER HAD A CRESTED HEAD OF IRIDESCENT GREEN BLACK A BROAD COLLAR OF LUSTROUS WHITE BLACK BACK BLACK AND WHITE WINGS WHITE BELLY SIDES FINELY PENCILLED IN BLACK AND WHITE AND A BREAST OF RICH CHESTNUT RED STREAKED WITH BLACK. HIS FEET WERE RED HIS LONG NARROW BEAK WITH ITS SAW TOOTHED EDGES AND SHARP HOOKED TIP WAS BRIGHT RED. IN EVERY LINE AND HUE HE WAS UNMISTAKABLY AN ARISTOCRAT AMONG DUCKS AND AN ARROGANT ONE AT THAT. MOST OF THEM WERE MUCH TOO BIG NOT FOR HIS APPETITE BUT FOR HIS POWERS. HIS BEAK WITH ITS KEEN TOOTHED EDGES WAS A FORMIDABLE WEAPON BY MEANS OF WHICH HE COULD DOUBTLESS HAVE CAPTURED DISABLED AND DRAGGED TO SHORE EVEN A FISH OF A POUND OR SO IN WEIGHT. BUT HERE HE WAS AT A TERRIBLE DISADVANTAGE AS COMPARED WITH THE OWLS HAWKS AND EAGLES HE HAD NO RENDING CLAWS. BUT SUDDENLY STRAIGHT AND SWIFT AS A DIVING CORMORANT HE SHOT DOWN INTO THE TORRENT AND DISAPPEARED BENEATH THE SURFACE. A WATCHER DIRECTLY OVERHEAD ESCAPING THE BAFFLING REFLECTIONS MIGHT HAVE SEEN HIM SWIMMING HEAD OUTSTRETCHED MASTERING THE TREMENDOUS RUSH OF THE STREAM WITH MIGHTY STROKES FAIRLY OUT SPEEDING THE FISH IN THEIR OWN ELEMENT. NEAR THE LIMIT OF THE CLEAR WATER HE OVERTOOK AND SEIZED THE QUARRY WHICH HE HAD MARKED A TROUT NOT FAR FROM SEVEN INCHES IN LENGTH. THE SAW TOOTHED EDGES OF HIS BEAK GRIPPED IT SECURELY AND HE ROSE WITH IT TO THE SURFACE JUST WHERE THE CHUTE WAS BREAKING INTO A SMOTHER OF TRAMPLED FOAM. WITH A FURIOUS FLAPPING OF WINGS HE LIFTED HIMSELF ALMOST CLEAR OF THE FLOOD AND BEAT ALONG THE TOSSED SURFACE DRAGGING TAIL AND FEET FOR PERHAPS A DOZEN YARDS BEFORE HE COULD GET INTO FULL FLIGHT. ONCE FAIRLY A WING HOWEVER HE WHEELED AND MADE BACK HURRIEDLY FOR HIS PERCH. HERE HE PROCEEDED TO SWALLOW HIS PRIZE HEAD FIRST. IT WAS A LONG DIFFICULT CHOKING PROCESS FOR THE FISH WAS ONE OF THE STOUTEST HE HAD EVER ATTEMPTED. BUT A LITTLE CHOKING WAS OF SMALL CONSEQUENCE IN VIEW OF HIS HEROIC APPETITE AND AFTER MANY AN UNDIGNIFIED PAROXYSM HE ACCOMPLISHED THE TASK. IT MIGHT HAVE SEEMED THAT A TROUT OF THIS SIZE WAS A FAIRLY SUBSTANTIAL MEAL. BUT SUCH WAS HIS KEENNESS THAT EVEN WHILE THE WIDE FLUKES OF HIS ENGORGED VICTIM WERE STILL STICKING OUT AT THE CORNERS OF HIS BEAK HIS FIERCE RED EYES WERE ONCE MORE PEERING DOWNWARD INTO THE TORRENT IN SEARCH OF FRESH PREY. JUST ABOUT THIS TIME IN THE CLEAR BLUE OVERHEAD A GREEN WINGED TEAL WAS BEATING HIS WAY ABOVE THE TREETOPS MAKING FOR THE STREAM WITH THE FEAR OF DEATH AT HIS HEART. A MIGHTY FLIER HIS SHORT MUSCULAR WINGS DROVE HIM THROUGH THE AIR AT A SPEED NOT MUCH LESS THAN NINETY OR A HUNDRED MILES AN HOUR. BUT BEHIND HIM OVERTAKING HIM INEXORABLY CAME THE SHAPE THAT STOOD FOR DOOM ITSELF IN THE EYES OF ALL HIS TRIBE THE DREADFUL BLUE FALCON OR DUCK HAWK" }, { "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "chapter": "92135", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7176/92135/92135_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "c3798ed8ad4076c7c0be597cb6659aeff32e39feef7e98979ed44bc0f3bbc3f3", "seconds": 238.62, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 35.6, 37.3, 36.4, 37.6, 35.1, 41.3, 40.1, 37.6, 39.6, 25.0, 35.2, 31.4, 40.2, 43.9, 36.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE SUCCESSFUL PLAYWRIGHT IS INDEED A MAN TO BE ENVIED. LEAVING ASIDE FOR THE MOMENT THE QUESTION OF SUPER TAX THE PRIZES WHICH FALL TO HIS LOT ARE WORTH SOMETHING OF AN EFFORT. HE SEES HIS NAME CORRECTLY SPELT ON BUSES WHICH GO TO SUCH DIFFERENT SPOTS AS HAMMERSMITH AND WEST NORWOOD AND HIS NAME SPELT INCORRECTLY BENEATH THE PHOTOGRAPH OF SOMEBODY ELSE IN THE ILLUSTRATED BUTLER. HE IS A WELCOME FIGURE AT THE GARDEN PARTIES OF THE ELECT WHO ARE ALWAYS READY TO ENCOURAGE HIM BY ACCEPTING FREE SEATS FOR HIS PLAY ACTOR MANAGERS NOD TO HIM EDITORS ALLOW HIM TO CONTRIBUTE WITHOUT CHARGE TO A SYMPOSIUM ON THE PRICE OF GOLF BALLS. IN SHORT HE BECOMES A PROMINENT FIGURE IN LONDON SOCIETY AND IF HE IS NOT CAREFUL SOMEBODY WILL SAY SO. BUT EVEN THE UNSUCCESSFUL DRAMATIST HAS HIS MOMENTS. NOW HE SAYS HE IS WRITING A PLAY AND WE LOOK ROUND THE SPACIOUS LAWNS AND TERRACES AND MARVEL AT THE RUN HIS LAST ONE MUST HAVE HAD. HOWEVER I ASSUME THAT YOU WHO READ THIS ARE ACTUALLY IN NEED OF THE DIBS. YOUR PLAY MUST BE NOT MERELY A GOOD PLAY BUT A SUCCESSFUL ONE. HOW SHALL THIS SUCCESS BE ACHIEVED. FRANKLY I CANNOT ALWAYS SAY. HOW SHALL I DO IT WELL I COULDN'T HELP YOU. BUT SUPPOSE YOU SAID I'M FOND OF WRITING MY PEOPLE ALWAYS SAY MY LETTERS HOME ARE GOOD ENOUGH FOR PUNCH. I'VE GOT A LITTLE IDEA FOR A PLAY ABOUT A MAN AND A WOMAN AND ANOTHER WOMAN AND BUT PERHAPS I'D BETTER KEEP THE PLOT A SECRET FOR THE MOMENT. ANYHOW IT'S JOLLY EXCITING AND I CAN DO THE DIALOGUE ALL RIGHT. SUPPOSE YOU SPOKE TO ME LIKE THIS THEN I COULD DO SOMETHING FOR YOU. MY DEAR SIR I SHOULD REPLY OR MADAM YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT SHOP. LEND ME YOUR EAR FOR TEN MINUTES AND YOU SHALL LEARN JUST WHAT STAGECRAFT IS. AND I SHOULD BEGIN WITH A SHORT HOMILY ON SOLILOQUY. IF YOU EVER READ YOUR SHAKESPEARE AND NO DRAMATIST SHOULD DESPISE THE WORKS OF ANOTHER DRAMATIST HE MAY ALWAYS PICK UP SOMETHING IN THEM WHICH MAY BE USEFUL FOR HIS NEXT PLAY IF YOU EVER READ YOUR SHAKESPEARE IT IS POSSIBLE THAT YOU HAVE COME ACROSS THIS PASSAGE ENTER HAMLET. HAM TO BE OR NOT TO BE. AND SO ON IN THE SAME VEIN FOR SOME THIRTY LINES. THESE FEW REMARKS ARE CALLED A SOLILOQUY BEING ADDRESSED RATHER TO THE WORLD IN GENERAL THAN TO ANY PARTICULAR PERSON ON THE STAGE. NOW THE OBJECT OF THIS SOLILOQUY IS PLAIN. OF COURSE A REALLY GOOD ACTOR CAN OFTEN GIVE A CLUE TO THE FEELINGS OF A CHARACTER SIMPLY BY FACIAL EXPRESSION. THERE ARE WAYS OF SHIFTING THE EYEBROWS DISTENDING THE NOSTRILS AND EXPLORING THE LOWER MOLARS WITH THE TONGUE BY WHICH IT IS POSSIBLE TO DENOTE RESPECTIVELY SURPRISE DEFIANCE AND DOUBT. INDEED IRRESOLUTION BEING THE KEYNOTE OF HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY A CLEVER PLAYER COULD TO SOME EXTENT INDICATE THE WHOLE THIRTY LINES BY A SILENT WORKING OF THE JAW BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT WOULD BE IDLE TO DENY THAT HE WOULD MISS THE FINER SHADES OF THE DRAMATIST'S MEANING. THE INSOLENCE OF OFFICE AND THE SPURNS TO TAKE ONLY ONE LINE WOULD TAX THE MOST ELASTIC FACE. SO THE SOLILOQUY CAME INTO BEING. WE MODERNS HOWEVER SEE THE ABSURDITY OF IT. IF IT BE GRANTED FIRST THAT THE THOUGHTS OF A CERTAIN CHARACTER SHOULD BE KNOWN TO THE AUDIENCE AND SECONDLY THAT SOLILOQUY OR THE HABIT OF THINKING ALOUD IS IN OPPOSITION TO MODERN STAGE TECHNIQUE HOW SHALL A SOLILOQUY BE AVOIDED WITHOUT DAMAGE TO THE PLAY. WELL THERE ARE MORE WAYS THAN ONE AND NOW WE COME TO WHAT IS MEANT BY STAGECRAFT. THUS IN THIS PLAY WE HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT AN EASY WAY OF AVOIDING HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY WOULD BE FOR OPHELIA TO SPEAK FIRST. HAM I AM WONDERING WHETHER TO BE OR NOT TO BE WHETHER TIS NOBLER IN THE MIND TO SUFFER. AND SO ON TILL YOU GET TO THE END WHEN OPHELIA MIGHT SAY AH YES OR SOMETHING NON COMMITTAL OF THAT SORT. THIS WOULD BE AN EASY WAY OF DOING IT BUT IT WOULD NOT BE THE BEST WAY FOR THE REASON THAT IT IS TOO EASY TO CALL ATTENTION TO ITSELF. WHAT YOU WANT IS TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT YOU ARE CONVEYING HAMLET'S THOUGHTS TO THE AUDIENCE IN RATHER A CLEVER MANNER" }, { "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "chapter": "102255", "sourceFile": "test-clean/7729/102255/102255_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "4c05a66069925d24d86be682160839592a3b3729a1986454fe77fe84312a1138", "seconds": 232.53, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 49.5, 45.7, 49.4, 49.2, 48.6, 48.4, 48.7, 48.7, 49.8, 49.5, 48.9, 48.8, 45.9, 48.3, 46.9 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE BOGUS LEGISLATURE NUMBERED THIRTY SIX MEMBERS. THIS WAS AT THE MARCH ELECTION EIGHTEEN FIFTY FIVE. THAT SUMMER'S EMIGRATION HOWEVER BEING MAINLY FROM THE FREE STATES GREATLY CHANGED THE RELATIVE STRENGTH OF THE TWO PARTIES. FOR GENERAL SERVICE THEREFORE REQUIRING NO SPECIAL EFFORT THE NUMERICAL STRENGTH OF THE FACTIONS WAS ABOUT EQUAL WHILE ON EXTRAORDINARY OCCASIONS THE TWO THOUSAND BORDER RUFFIAN RESERVE LYING A LITTLE FARTHER BACK FROM THE STATE LINE COULD AT ANY TIME EASILY TURN THE SCALE. THE FREE STATE MEN HAD ONLY THEIR CONVICTIONS THEIR INTELLIGENCE THEIR COURAGE AND THE MORAL SUPPORT OF THE NORTH THE CONSPIRACY HAD ITS SECRET COMBINATION THE TERRITORIAL OFFICIALS THE LEGISLATURE THE BOGUS LAWS THE COURTS THE MILITIA OFFICERS THE PRESIDENT AND THE ARMY. THIS WAS A FORMIDABLE ARRAY OF ADVANTAGES SLAVERY WAS PLAYING WITH LOADED DICE. WITH SUCH A RADICAL OPPOSITION OF SENTIMENT BOTH FACTIONS WERE ON THE ALERT TO SEIZE EVERY AVAILABLE VANTAGE GROUND. THE BOGUS LAWS HAVING BEEN ENACTED AND THE FREE STATE MEN HAVING AT THE BIG SPRINGS CONVENTION RESOLVED ON THE FAILURE OF PEACEABLE REMEDIES TO RESIST THEM TO A BLOODY ISSUE THE CONSPIRACY WAS NOT SLOW TO COVER ITSELF AND ITS PROJECTS WITH THE SACRED MANTLE OF AUTHORITY. OPPORTUNELY FOR THEM ABOUT THIS TIME GOVERNOR SHANNON APPOINTED TO SUCCEED REEDER ARRIVED IN THE TERRITORY. COMING BY WAY OF THE MISSOURI RIVER TOWNS HE FELL FIRST AMONG BORDER RUFFIAN COMPANIONSHIP AND INFLUENCES AND PERHAPS HAVING HIS INCLINATIONS ALREADY MOLDED BY HIS WASHINGTON INSTRUCTIONS HIS EARLY IMPRESSIONS WERE DECIDEDLY ADVERSE TO THE FREE STATE CAUSE. HIS RECEPTION SPEECH AT WESTPORT IN WHICH HE MAINTAINED THE LEGALITY OF THE LEGISLATURE AND HIS DETERMINATION TO ENFORCE THEIR LAWS DELIGHTED HIS PRO SLAVERY AUDITORS. ALL THE TERRITORIAL DIGNITARIES WERE PRESENT GOVERNOR SHANNON PRESIDED JOHN CALHOUN THE SURVEYOR GENERAL MADE THE PRINCIPAL SPEECH A DENUNCIATION OF THE ABOLITIONISTS SUPPORTING THE TOPEKA MOVEMENT CHIEF JUSTICE LECOMPTE DIGNIFIED THE OCCASION WITH APPROVING REMARKS. ALL DISSENT ALL NON COMPLIANCE ALL HESITATION ALL MERE SILENCE EVEN WERE IN THEIR STRONGHOLD TOWNS LIKE LEAVENWORTH BRANDED AS ABOLITIONISM DECLARED TO BE HOSTILITY TO THE PUBLIC WELFARE AND PUNISHED WITH PROSCRIPTION PERSONAL VIOLENCE EXPULSION AND FREQUENTLY DEATH. OF THE LYNCHINGS THE MOBS AND THE MURDERS IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE EXCEPT IN A VERY EXTENDED WORK TO NOTE THE FREQUENT AND ATROCIOUS DETAILS. THE PRESENT CHAPTERS CAN ONLY TOUCH UPON THE MORE SALIENT MOVEMENTS OF THE CIVIL WAR IN KANSAS WHICH HAPPILY WERE NOT SANGUINARY IF HOWEVER THE INDIVIDUAL AND MORE ISOLATED CASES OF BLOODSHED COULD BE DESCRIBED THEY WOULD SHOW A STARTLING AGGREGATE OF BARBARITY AND LOSS OF LIFE FOR OPINION'S SAKE. SOME OF THESE REVOLTING CRIMES THOUGH COMPARATIVELY FEW IN NUMBER WERE COMMITTED GENERALLY IN A SPIRIT OF LAWLESS RETALIATION BY FREE STATE MEN. SEVERAL HUNDRED FREE STATE MEN PROMPTLY RESPONDED TO THE SUMMONS. THE FREE STATE HOTEL SERVED AS BARRACKS. IT WAS IN FACT THE BEST WEAPON OF ITS DAY. THE FREE STATE VOLUNTEERS HAD SOME MONTHS BEFORE OBTAINED A PARTIAL SUPPLY OF THEM FROM THE EAST AND THEIR RANGE RAPIDITY AND EFFECTIVENESS HAD BEEN NOT ONLY DULY SET FORTH BUT HIGHLY EXAGGERATED BY MANY MARVELOUS STORIES THROUGHOUT THE TERRITORY AND ALONG THE BORDER. THE LEADERS OF THE CONSPIRACY BECAME DISTRUSTFUL OF THEIR POWER TO CRUSH THE TOWN" }, { "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "chapter": "274381", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8224/274381/274381_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "9f1e6e5d69dfc9398cee87e63fb3f89b054f79f2bcf9a225380e1260e32ce69f", "seconds": 228.69, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 20.6, 19.8, 20.0, 19.7, 20.2, 19.0, 18.6, 19.8, 20.6, 27.5, 28.5, 29.6, 30.1, 29.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 9, "reference": "IN THE SECOND INSURRECTION A GREAT MILITARY COMMAND WAS INTRUSTED TO HIM BY THE COVENANTERS AND HE WAS THE FIRST THAT PASSED THE TWEED AT THE HEAD OF THEIR TROOPS IN THE INVASION OF ENGLAND. HE FOUND MEANS HOWEVER SOON AFTER TO CONVEY A LETTER TO THE KING AND BY THE INFIDELITY OF SOME ABOUT THAT PRINCE HAMILTON AS WAS SUSPECTED A COPY OF THIS LETTER WAS SENT TO LEVEN THE SCOTTISH GENERAL. BEING ACCUSED OF TREACHERY AND A CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE ENEMY MONTROSE OPENLY AVOWED THE LETTER AND ASKED THE GENERALS IF THEY DARED TO CALL THEIR SOVEREIGN AN ENEMY AND BY THIS BOLD AND MAGNANIMOUS BEHAVIOR HE ESCAPED THE DANGER OF AN IMMEDIATE PROSECUTION. AS HE WAS NOW FULLY KNOWN TO BE OF THE ROYAL PARTY HE NO LONGER CONCEALED HIS PRINCIPLES AND HE ENDEAVORED TO DRAW THOSE WHO HAD ENTERTAINED LIKE SENTIMENTS INTO A BOND OF ASSOCIATION FOR HIS MASTER'S SERVICE. THOUGH THROWN INTO PRISON FOR THIS ENTERPRISE AND DETAINED SOME TIME HE WAS NOT DISCOURAGED BUT STILL CONTINUED BY HIS COUNTENANCE AND PROTECTION TO INFUSE SPIRIT INTO THE DISTRESSED ROYALISTS. AMONG OTHER PERSONS OF DISTINCTION WHO UNITED THEMSELVES TO HIM WAS LORD NAPIER OF MERCHISTON SON OF THE FAMOUS INVENTOR OF THE LOGARITHMS THE PERSON TO WHOM THE TITLE OF A GREAT MAN IS MORE JUSTLY DUE THAN TO ANY OTHER WHOM HIS COUNTRY EVER PRODUCED. BEING ACCUSED BY LORD RAE NOT WITHOUT SOME APPEARANCE OF PROBABILITY OF A CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE KING CHARLES WAS SO FAR FROM HARBORING SUSPICION AGAINST HIM THAT THE VERY FIRST TIME HAMILTON CAME TO COURT HE RECEIVED HIM INTO HIS BED CHAMBER AND PASSED ALONE THE NIGHT WITH HIM. BUT SUCH WAS THE DUKE'S UNHAPPY FATE OR CONDUCT THAT HE ESCAPED NOT THE IMPUTATION OF TREACHERY TO HIS FRIEND AND SOVEREIGN AND THOUGH HE AT LAST SACRIFICED HIS LIFE IN THE KING'S SERVICE HIS INTEGRITY AND SINCERITY HAVE NOT BEEN THOUGHT BY HISTORIANS ENTIRELY FREE FROM BLEMISH. WHILE THE FORMER FORETOLD THAT THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS WERE SECRETLY FORMING A UNION WITH THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT AND INCULCATED THE NECESSITY OF PREVENTING THEM BY SOME VIGOROUS UNDERTAKING THE LATTER STILL INSISTED THAT EVERY SUCH ATTEMPT WOULD PRECIPITATE THEM INTO MEASURES TO WHICH OTHERWISE THEY WERE NOT PERHAPS INCLINED. UNHAPPILY FOR THE ROYAL CAUSE HAMILTON'S REPRESENTATIONS MET WITH MORE CREDIT FROM THE KING AND QUEEN THAN THOSE OF MONTROSE AND THE COVENANTERS WERE ALLOWED WITHOUT INTERRUPTION TO PROCEED IN ALL THEIR HOSTILE MEASURES. MONTROSE THEN HASTENED TO OXFORD WHERE HIS INVECTIVES AGAINST HAMILTON'S TREACHERY CONCURRING WITH THE GENERAL PREPOSSESSION AND SUPPORTED BY THE UNFORTUNATE EVENT OF HIS COUNSELS WERE ENTERTAINED WITH UNIVERSAL PROBATION. HIS BROTHER LANERIC WHO WAS ALSO PUT UNDER CONFINEMENT FOUND MEANS TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE AND TO FLY INTO SCOTLAND" }, { "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "chapter": "274384", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8224/274384/274384_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "a7ca6aee8ea15f9421198a58376a2aa01ba160a3077c9a2bff365f9355a494fa", "seconds": 235.98, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 45.3, 41.7, 48.4, 36.7, 41.6, 42.8, 47.0, 46.9, 43.2, 53.9, 46.0, 51.0, 36.8, 44.1, 49.9 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HE RODE BEFORE A PORTMANTEAU AND CALLED HIMSELF ASHBURNHAM'S SERVANT. HE PASSED THROUGH HENLEY SAINT ALBANS AND CAME SO NEAR TO LONDON AS HARROW ON THE HILL. HE ONCE ENTERTAINED THOUGHTS OF ENTERING INTO THAT CITY AND OF THROWING HIMSELF ON THE MERCY OF THE PARLIAMENT. BUT AT LAST AFTER PASSING THROUGH MANY CROSS ROADS HE ARRIVED AT THE SCOTTISH CAMP BEFORE NEWARK. THE PARLIAMENT HEARING OF HIS ESCAPE FROM OXFORD ISSUED RIGOROUS ORDERS AND THREATENED WITH INSTANT DEATH WHOEVER SHOULD HARBOR OR CONCEAL HIM. THE SCOTTISH GENERALS AND COMMISSIONERS AFFECTED GREAT SURPRISE ON THE APPEARANCE OF THE KING AND THOUGH THEY PAID HIM ALL THE EXTERIOR RESPECT DUE TO HIS DIGNITY THEY INSTANTLY SET A GUARD UPON HIM UNDER COLOR OF PROTECTION AND MADE HIM IN REALITY A PRISONER. THEY INFORMED THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT OF THIS UNEXPECTED INCIDENT AND ASSURED THEM THAT THEY HAD ENTERED INTO NO PRIVATE TREATY WITH THE KING. THEY APPLIED TO HIM FOR ORDERS TO BELLASIS GOVERNOR OF NEWARK TO SURRENDER THAT TOWN NOW REDUCED TO EXTREMITY AND THE ORDERS WERE INSTANTLY OBEYED. IT WAS THE MODE OF THAT AGE TO MAKE THE PULPIT THE SCENE OF NEWS AND ON EVERY GREAT EVENT THE WHOLE SCRIPTURE WAS RANSACKED BY THE CLERGY FOR PASSAGES APPLICABLE TO THE PRESENT OCCASION. HAVE WE EATEN AT ALL OF THE KING'S COST. OR HATH HE GIVEN US ANY GIFT. AND THE MEN OF ISRAEL ANSWERED THE MEN OF JUDAH AND SAID WE HAVE TEN PARTS IN THE KING AND WE HAVE ALSO MORE RIGHT IN DAVID THAN YE WHY THEN DID YE DESPISE US THAT OUR ADVICE SHOULD NOT BE FIRST HAD IN BRINGING BACK OUR KING. AND THE WORDS OF THE MEN OF JUDAH WERE FIERCER THAN THE WORDS OF THE MEN OF ISRAEL. ANOTHER PREACHER AFTER REPROACHING HIM TO HIS FACE WITH HIS MISGOVERNMENT ORDERED THIS PSALM TO BE SUNG. WHY DOST THOU TYRANT BOAST THYSELF THY WICKED DEEDS TO PRAISE. THE KING STOOD UP AND CALLED FOR THAT PSALM WHICH BEGINS WITH THESE WORDS. HAVE MERCY LORD ON ME I PRAY FOR MEN WOULD ME DEVOUR. THE GOOD NATURED AUDIENCE IN PITY TO FALLEN MAJESTY SHOWED FOR ONCE GREATER DEFERENCE TO THE KING THAN TO THE MINISTER AND SUNG THE PSALM WHICH THE FORMER HAD CALLED FOR. CHARLES HAD VERY LITTLE REASON TO BE PLEASED WITH HIS SITUATION. THE TERMS GIVEN TO MOST OF THEM WERE HONORABLE AND FAIRFAX AS FAR AS IT LAY IN HIS POWER WAS VERY EXACT IN OBSERVING THEM. FAR FROM ALLOWING VIOLENCE HE WOULD NOT EVEN PERMIT INSULTS OR TRIUMPH OVER THE UNFORTUNATE ROYALISTS AND BY HIS GENEROUS HUMANITY SO CRUEL A CIVIL WAR WAS ENDED IN APPEARANCE VERY CALMLY BETWEEN THE PARTIES. ORMOND HAVING RECEIVED LIKE ORDERS DELIVERED DUBLIN AND OTHER FORTS INTO THE HANDS OF THE PARLIAMENTARY OFFICERS. MONTROSE ALSO AFTER HAVING EXPERIENCED STILL MORE VARIETY OF GOOD AND BAD FORTUNE THREW DOWN HIS ARMS AND RETIRED OUT OF THE KINGDOM. THE MARQUIS OF WORCESTER A MAN PAST EIGHTY FOUR WAS THE LAST IN ENGLAND THAT SUBMITTED TO THE AUTHORITY OF THE PARLIAMENT" }, { "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "chapter": "279154", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8230/279154/279154_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "ed5fb6cbba641782b860f2ad3b9ab73c404ecd12301198fc74f32e591923ec2d", "seconds": 237.54, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 45.2, 44.5, 43.5, 41.7, 42.4, 38.7, 44.7, 43.9, 40.2, 44.7, 44.9, 42.3, 44.3, 45.0, 44.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "MEMORY WHICH WE ARE TO CONSIDER TO DAY INTRODUCES US TO KNOWLEDGE IN ONE OF ITS FORMS. THE ANALYSIS OF KNOWLEDGE WILL OCCUPY US UNTIL THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH LECTURE AND IS THE MOST DIFFICULT PART OF OUR WHOLE ENTERPRISE. I DO NOT MYSELF BELIEVE THAT THE ANALYSIS OF KNOWLEDGE CAN BE EFFECTED ENTIRELY BY MEANS OF PURELY EXTERNAL OBSERVATION SUCH AS BEHAVIOURISTS EMPLOY. I SHALL DISCUSS THIS QUESTION IN LATER LECTURES. IN THE PRESENT LECTURE I SHALL ATTEMPT THE ANALYSIS OF MEMORY KNOWLEDGE BOTH AS AN INTRODUCTION TO THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL AND BECAUSE MEMORY IN SOME FORM IS PRESUPPOSED IN ALMOST ALL OTHER KNOWLEDGE. SENSATION WE DECIDED IS NOT A FORM OF KNOWLEDGE. IT MIGHT HOWEVER HAVE BEEN EXPECTED THAT WE SHOULD BEGIN OUR DISCUSSION OF KNOWLEDGE WITH PERCEPTION I E WITH THAT INTEGRAL EXPERIENCE OF THINGS IN THE ENVIRONMENT OUT OF WHICH SENSATION IS EXTRACTED BY PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. WHAT IS CALLED PERCEPTION DIFFERS FROM SENSATION BY THE FACT THAT THE SENSATIONAL INGREDIENTS BRING UP HABITUAL ASSOCIATES IMAGES AND EXPECTATIONS OF THEIR USUAL CORRELATES ALL OF WHICH ARE SUBJECTIVELY INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM THE SENSATION. THE PURELY PSYCHOLOGICAL PROBLEMS WHICH IT RAISES ARE NOT VERY DIFFICULT THOUGH THEY HAVE SOMETIMES BEEN RENDERED ARTIFICIALLY OBSCURE BY UNWILLINGNESS TO ADMIT THE FALLIBILITY OF THE NON SENSATIONAL ELEMENTS OF PERCEPTION. ON THE OTHER HAND MEMORY RAISES MANY DIFFICULT AND VERY IMPORTANT PROBLEMS WHICH IT IS NECESSARY TO CONSIDER AT THE FIRST POSSIBLE MOMENT. ONE REASON FOR TREATING MEMORY AT THIS EARLY STAGE IS THAT IT SEEMS TO BE INVOLVED IN THE FACT THAT IMAGES ARE RECOGNIZED AS COPIES OF PAST SENSIBLE EXPERIENCE. IN THE PRECEDING LECTURE I ALLUDED TO HUME'S PRINCIPLE THAT ALL OUR SIMPLE IDEAS IN THEIR FIRST APPEARANCE ARE DERIVED FROM SIMPLE IMPRESSIONS WHICH ARE CORRESPONDENT TO THEM AND WHICH THEY EXACTLY REPRESENT. WHETHER OR NOT THIS PRINCIPLE IS LIABLE TO EXCEPTIONS EVERYONE WOULD AGREE THAT IS HAS A BROAD MEASURE OF TRUTH THOUGH THE WORD EXACTLY MIGHT SEEM AN OVERSTATEMENT AND IT MIGHT SEEM MORE CORRECT TO SAY THAT IDEAS APPROXIMATELY REPRESENT IMPRESSIONS. WHAT SORT OF EVIDENCE IS THERE. AND WHAT SORT OF EVIDENCE IS LOGICALLY POSSIBLE. THE DIFFICULTY OF THIS QUESTION ARISES THROUGH THE FACT THAT THE SENSATION WHICH AN IMAGE IS SUPPOSED TO COPY IS IN THE PAST WHEN THE IMAGE EXISTS AND CAN THEREFORE ONLY BE KNOWN BY MEMORY WHILE ON THE OTHER HAND MEMORY OF PAST SENSATIONS SEEMS ONLY POSSIBLE BY MEANS OF PRESENT IMAGES. HOW THEN ARE WE TO FIND ANY WAY OF COMPARING THE PRESENT IMAGE AND THE PAST SENSATION. THE PROBLEM IS JUST AS ACUTE IF WE SAY THAT IMAGES DIFFER FROM THEIR PROTOTYPES AS IF WE SAY THAT THEY RESEMBLE THEM IT IS THE VERY POSSIBILITY OF COMPARISON THAT IS HARD TO UNDERSTAND. IT IS NOT LOGICALLY NECESSARY TO THE EXISTENCE OF A MEMORY BELIEF THAT THE EVENT REMEMBERED SHOULD HAVE OCCURRED OR EVEN THAT THE PAST SHOULD HAVE EXISTED AT ALL. THERE IS NO LOGICAL IMPOSSIBILITY IN THE HYPOTHESIS THAT THE WORLD SPRANG INTO BEING FIVE MINUTES AGO EXACTLY AS IT THEN WAS WITH A POPULATION THAT REMEMBERED A WHOLLY UNREAL PAST. THERE IS NO LOGICALLY NECESSARY CONNECTION BETWEEN EVENTS AT DIFFERENT TIMES THEREFORE NOTHING THAT IS HAPPENING NOW OR WILL HAPPEN IN THE FUTURE CAN DISPROVE THE HYPOTHESIS THAT THE WORLD BEGAN FIVE MINUTES AGO. I AM NOT SUGGESTING THAT THE NON EXISTENCE OF THE PAST SHOULD BE ENTERTAINED AS A SERIOUS HYPOTHESIS" }, { "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "chapter": "210777", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8455/210777/210777_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "0ec46e9ca9754c0c12ce01fdf02fb4e09d655fae8d574b924eede9093b7c7a2e", "seconds": 238.59, "pieces": 18, "cutLevelsDb": [ 38.6, 40.1, 38.3, 39.8, 40.8, 39.4, 40.5, 39.3, 40.1, 39.1, 40.8, 41.0, 40.0, 39.3, 40.2, 40.0, 40.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE NEW GOVERNOR. SO SAID I TO MYSELF BECAUSE OF JACK AND HIS LOVE ALL THE ASPIRATIONS OF MY LIFE ARE TO BE CRUSHED. IT WAS FOR THAT THAT I WEPT. I WEPT TO THINK THAT A SPIRIT OF HONESTY SHOULD AS YET HAVE PREVAILED SO LITTLE IN THE WORLD. I REMAINED THERE ALONE FOR MANY HOURS BUT I MUST ACKNOWLEDGE THAT BEFORE I LEFT THE CHAMBERS I HAD GRADUALLY BROUGHT MYSELF TO LOOK AT THE MATTER IN ANOTHER LIGHT. HAD EVA CRASWELLER NOT BEEN GOOD LOOKING HAD JACK BEEN STILL AT COLLEGE HAD SIR KENNINGTON OVAL REMAINED IN ENGLAND HAD MISTER BUNNIT AND THE BAR KEEPER NOT SUCCEEDED IN STOPPING MY CARRIAGE ON THE HILL SHOULD I HAVE SUCCEEDED IN ARRANGING FOR THE FINAL DEPARTURE OF MY OLD FRIEND. THAT WAS THE QUESTION WHICH I OUGHT TO ASK MYSELF. HAD CRASWELLER DEPARTED AND HAD THE SYSTEM THEN BEEN STOPPED SHOULD I NOT HAVE APPEARED A MURDERER EVEN TO MYSELF. BUT THOUGH I HAVE BEEN STRONG ENOUGH TO ORIGINATE THE IDEA I HAVE NOT BEEN STRONG ENOUGH TO BEAR THE TERRIBLE HARSHNESS OF THE OPINIONS OF THOSE AROUND ME WHEN I SHOULD HAVE EXERCISED AGAINST THOSE DEAR TO ME THE MANDATES OF THE NEW LAW. IF I COULD IN THE SPIRIT HAVE LEAPED OVER A SPACE OF THIRTY YEARS AND BEEN MYSELF DEPOSITED IN DUE ORDER I COULD SEE THAT MY MEMORY WOULD HAVE BEEN EMBALMED WITH THOSE WHO HAD DONE GREAT THINGS FOR THEIR FELLOW CITIZENS. SUCH HAD BEEN MY AMBITION SUCH HAD BEEN MY HOPE. HAD THE TELEGRAPH BEEN INVENTED IN THE DAYS OF ANCIENT ROME WOULD THE ROMANS HAVE ACCEPTED IT OR HAVE STONED WHEATSTONE. ON ARRIVING AT HOME AT MY OWN RESIDENCE I FOUND THAT OUR SALON WAS FILLED WITH A BRILLIANT COMPANY. WE DID NOT USUALLY USE THE ROOM BUT ON ENTERING THE HOUSE I HEARD THE CLATTER OF CONVERSATION AND WENT IN. HE ROSE TO MEET ME AND I SAW THAT HE WAS A HANDSOME TALL MAN ABOUT FORTY WITH A DETERMINED FACE AND A WINNING SMILE. MISTER PRESIDENT SAID HE I AM IN COMMAND OF HER MAJESTY'S GUNBOAT THE JOHN BRIGHT AND I HAVE COME TO PAY MY RESPECTS TO THE LADIES. I AM SURE THE LADIES HAVE GREAT PLEASURE IN SEEING YOU. I LOOKED ROUND THE ROOM AND THERE WITH OTHER OF OUR FAIR CITIZENS I SAW EVA. AS I SPOKE I MADE HIM A GRACIOUS BOW AND I THINK I SHOWED HIM BY MY MODE OF ADDRESS THAT I DID NOT BEAR ANY GRUDGE AS TO MY INDIVIDUAL SELF. I HAVE COME TO YOUR SHORES MISTER PRESIDENT WITH THE PURPOSE OF SEEING HOW THINGS ARE PROGRESSING IN THIS DISTANT QUARTER OF THE WORLD. THINGS WERE PROGRESSING CAPTAIN BATTLEAX PRETTY WELL BEFORE THIS MORNING. WE HAVE OUR LITTLE STRUGGLES HERE AS ELSEWHERE AND ALL THINGS CANNOT BE DONE BY ROSE WATER. WE ARE QUITE SATISFIED NOW CAPTAIN BATTLEAX SAID MY WIFE. QUITE SATISFIED SAID EVA. I AM SURE WE ARE ALL DELIGHTED TO HEAR THE LADIES SPEAK IN SO PLEASANT A MANNER SAID FIRST LIEUTENANT CROSSTREES AN OFFICER WITH WHOM I HAVE SINCE BECOME PARTICULARLY INTIMATE. THEN THERE WAS A LITTLE PAUSE IN THE CONVERSATION AND I FELT MYSELF BOUND TO SAY SOMETHING AS TO THE VIOLENT INTERRUPTION TO WHICH I HAD THIS MORNING BEEN SUBJECTED. AND YET THAT SOMETHING MUST BE PLAYFUL IN ITS NATURE. I MUST BY NO MEANS SHOW IN SUCH COMPANY AS WAS NOW PRESENT THE STRONG FEELING WHICH PERVADED MY OWN MIND. YOU WILL PERCEIVE CAPTAIN BATTLEAX THAT THERE IS A LITTLE DIFFERENCE OF OPINION BETWEEN US ALL HERE AS TO THE CEREMONY WHICH WAS TO HAVE BEEN ACCOMPLISHED THIS MORNING. THE LADIES IN COMPLIANCE WITH THAT SOFTNESS OF HEART WHICH IS THEIR CHARACTERISTIC ARE ON ONE SIDE AND THE MEN BY WHOM THE WORLD HAS TO BE MANAGED ARE ON THE OTHER. NO DOUBT IN PROCESS OF TIME THE LADIES WILL FOLLOW. THEIR MASTERS SAID MISSUS NEVERBEND. THIS WAS A PRETTY LITTLE SPEECH ENOUGH AND RECEIVED THE EAGER COMPLIMENTS OF THE OFFICERS OF THE JOHN BRIGHT" }, { "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "chapter": "287645", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8463/287645/287645_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "b109098419589afb33749f66d89927bdc96d2fd8a5519ac3b00858e255b7b1a8", "seconds": 239.81, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 46.8, 42.7, 42.9, 45.4, 42.3, 46.0, 49.4, 45.7, 49.1, 45.9, 47.8, 42.8, 57.5, 45.4 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "WHILE THIS PARTY WAS VERY RESPECTABLE IN REGARD TO NUMBERS AND ENLISTED MUCH SYMPATHY STILL THEY HAD NO WOUNDS OR BRUISES TO EXHIBIT OR VERY HARD REPORTS TO MAKE RELATIVE TO THEIR BONDAGE THE TREATMENT THAT HAD BEEN METED OUT TO THEM WAS ABOUT AS TOLERANT AS SLAVERY COULD WELL AFFORD AND THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF THE PASSENGERS BORE EVIDENCE THAT THEY HAD BEEN USED TO SOMETHING BETTER THAN HERRING AND CORN CAKE FOR A DIET. JULIUS WHO WAS SUCCESSFUL ENOUGH TO BRING HIS WIFE AND BOY WITH HIM WAS A WONDERFUL SPECIMEN OF MUSCULAR PROPORTIONS. NOR WAS HE ALL MUSCLE BY A GREAT DEAL HE WAS WELL BALANCED AS TO MOTHER WIT AND SHREWDNESS. IN LOOKING BACK INTO THE PIT FROM WHENCE HE HAD BEEN DELIVERED HE COULD TELL A VERY INTERESTING STORY OF WHAT HE HAD EXPERIENCED FROM WHICH IT WAS EVIDENT THAT HE HAD NOT BEEN AN IDLE OBSERVER OF WHAT HAD PASSED RELATIVE TO THE PECULIAR INSTITUTION ESPECIALLY WAS IT VERY CERTAIN THAT HE HAD NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LOVELY OR OF GOOD REPORT BELONGING TO THE SYSTEM. JULIUS HAD BEEN KEPT IN THE DARK IN MARYLAND BUT ON FREE SOIL THE LIGHT RUSHED IN UPON HIS ASTONISHED VISION TO A DEGREE ALMOST BEWILDERING. THAT HIS MASTER WAS A MAN OF MEANS AND PRETTY HIGH STANDING JULIUS THOUGHT WAS NOT MUCH TO HIS CREDIT SINCE THEY WERE OBTAINED FROM UNPAID LABOR. IN HIS REVIEW ALLUSION WAS MADE NOT ONLY TO HIS MASTER BUT ALSO TO HIS MISTRESS IN WHICH HE SAID THAT SHE WAS A QUARRELSOME AND CRABBED WOMAN MIDDLING STOUT. THIS WAS WHAT DID THE MISCHIEF SO FAR AS THE RUNNING AWAY WAS CONCERNED. HIS WIFE AND BOY SHARED FULLY IN HIS AFFECTIONS AND SEEMED WELL PLEASED TO HAVE THEIR FACES TURNED CANADA WARD. IT IS HARDLY NECESSARY TO SAY MORE OF THEM HERE. HENRY WAS ABOUT TWENTY THREE YEARS OF AGE OF AN ACTIVE TURN BROWN SKIN AND HAD GIVEN THE QUESTION OF FREEDOM HIS MOST SERIOUS ATTENTION AS HIS ACTIONS PROVED WHILE HE COULD NEITHER READ NOR WRITE HE COULD THINK. FROM THE MANNER IN WHICH HE EXPRESSED HIMSELF WITH REGARD TO ROBERT HOLLAN NO MAN IN THE WHOLE RANGE OF HIS RECOLLECTIONS WILL BE LONGER REMEMBERED THAN HE HIS ENTHRALMENT WHILE UNDER HOLLAN WILL HARDLY EVER BE FORGOTTEN. OF THIS PARTY EDWARD A BOY OF SEVENTEEN CALLED FORTH MUCH SYMPATHY HE TOO WAS CLAIMED BY HOLLAN. HE WAS OF A GOOD PHYSICAL MAKE UP AND SEEMED TO VALUE HIGHLY THE GREAT END HE HAD IN VIEW NAMELY A RESIDENCE IN CANADA. ARRIVAL FROM MARYLAND EIGHTEEN FIFTY EIGHT. JOHN WESLEY COMBASH JACOB TAYLOR AND THOMAS EDWARD SKINNER. THE REVELATIONS MADE BY THESE PASSENGERS WERE PAINFUL TO LISTEN TO AND WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN CREDITED IF ANY ROOM HAD EXISTED FOR DOUBT. JOHN WESLEY WAS THIRTY TWO YEARS OF AGE OF A LIVELY TURN PLEASANT COUNTENANCE DARK COLOR AND ORDINARY SIZE. IN UNBURDENING HIS MIND TO THE COMMITTEE THE ALL ABSORBING THEME RELATED TO THE MANNER IN WHICH HE HAD BEEN TREATED AS A SLAVE AND THE CHARACTER OF THOSE WHO HAD OPPRESSED HIM. HE STATED THAT HE HAD BEEN THE VICTIM OF A MAN OR PARTY NAMED JOHNSON IN WHOSE FAMILY JOHN HAD BEEN A WITNESS TO SOME OF THE MOST HIGH HANDED PHASES OF BARBARISM SAID HE THESE JOHNSONS WERE NOTORIOUS FOR ABUSING THEIR SERVANTS. A FEW YEARS BACK ONE OF THEIR SLAVES A COACHMAN WAS KEPT ON THE COACH BOX ONE COLD NIGHT WHEN THEY WERE OUT AT A BALL UNTIL HE BECAME ALMOST FROZEN TO DEATH IN FACT HE DID DIE IN THE INFIRMARY FROM THE EFFECTS OF THE FROST ABOUT ONE WEEK AFTERWARDS. ANOTHER CASE WAS THAT OF A SLAVE WOMAN IN A VERY DELICATE STATE WHO WAS ONE DAY KNOCKED DOWN STAIRS BY MISSUS JOHNSON HERSELF AND IN A FEW WEEKS AFTER THE POOR WOMAN DIED FROM THE EFFECTS OF THE INJURY THUS RECEIVED. THE DOCTOR WHO ATTENDED THE INJURED CREATURE IN THIS CASE WAS SIMPLY TOLD THAT SHE SLIPPED AND FELL DOWN STAIRS AS SHE WAS COMING DOWN" }, { "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "chapter": "294825", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8463/294825/294825_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "5123adb3d47aaa9f2368c5200bc6b241e5544d797295f6beb07d6bb6162a3dfd", "seconds": 225.25, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 41.8, 40.2, 41.4, 43.6, 41.0, 33.5, 35.6, 41.4, 33.1, 36.8, 34.5, 37.2, 44.2, 38.0, 45.0 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "THE DEEPEST PARTS OF THE OCEAN ARE TOTALLY UNKNOWN TO US ADMITS PROFESSOR ARONNAX EARLY IN THIS NOVEL. WHAT GOES ON IN THOSE DISTANT DEPTHS. WHAT CREATURES INHABIT OR COULD INHABIT THOSE REGIONS TWELVE OR FIFTEEN MILES BENEATH THE SURFACE OF THE WATER. IT'S ALMOST BEYOND CONJECTURE. THIS REALITY BEGINS TO EXPLAIN THE DARK POWER AND OTHERWORLDLY FASCINATION OF TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEAS. BORN IN THE FRENCH RIVER TOWN OF NANTES VERNE HAD A LIFELONG PASSION FOR THE SEA. FIRST AS A PARIS STOCKBROKER LATER AS A CELEBRATED AUTHOR AND YACHTSMAN HE WENT ON FREQUENT VOYAGES TO BRITAIN AMERICA THE MEDITERRANEAN. BUT THE SPECIFIC STIMULUS FOR THIS NOVEL WAS AN EIGHTEEN SIXTY FIVE FAN LETTER FROM A FELLOW WRITER MADAME GEORGE SAND. THUS INSPIRED VERNE CREATED ONE OF LITERATURE'S GREAT REBELS A FREEDOM FIGHTER WHO PLUNGED BENEATH THE WAVES TO WAGE A UNIQUE FORM OF GUERILLA WARFARE. INITIALLY VERNE'S NARRATIVE WAS INFLUENCED BY THE EIGHTEEN SIXTY THREE UPRISING OF POLAND AGAINST TSARIST RUSSIA. NEMO BUILDS A FABULOUS FUTURISTIC SUBMARINE THE NAUTILUS THEN CONDUCTS AN UNDERWATER CAMPAIGN OF VENGEANCE AGAINST HIS IMPERIALIST OPPRESSOR. VERNE REWORKED ITS POLITICAL CONTENT DEVISING NEW NATIONALITIES FOR NEMO AND HIS GREAT ENEMY INFORMATION REVEALED ONLY IN A LATER NOVEL THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND EIGHTEEN SEVENTY FIVE IN THE PRESENT WORK NEMO'S BACKGROUND REMAINS A DARK SECRET. IN ALL THE NOVEL HAD A DIFFICULT GESTATION. THESE OBSERVATIONS PARTLY APPLY HERE. SHARK ATTACKS GIANT SQUID CANNIBALS HURRICANES WHALE HUNTS AND OTHER RIP ROARING ADVENTURES ERUPT ALMOST AT RANDOM. THESE UNIFYING THREADS TIGHTEN THE NARRATIVE AND ACCELERATE ITS MOMENTUM. OTHER SUBTLETIES OCCUR INSIDE EACH EPISODE THE TEXTURES SPARKLING WITH WIT INFORMATION AND INSIGHT. VERNE REGARDS THE SEA FROM MANY ANGLES IN THE DOMAIN OF MARINE BIOLOGY HE GIVES US THUMBNAIL SKETCHES OF FISH SEASHELLS CORAL SOMETIMES IN GREAT CATALOGS THAT SWIRL PAST LIKE MUSICAL CASCADES IN THE REALM OF GEOLOGY HE STUDIES VOLCANOES LITERALLY INSIDE AND OUT IN THE WORLD OF COMMERCE HE CELEBRATES THE HIGH ENERGY ENTREPRENEURS WHO LAY THE ATLANTIC CABLE OR DIG THE SUEZ CANAL. AND VERNE'S MARINE ENGINEERING PROVES ESPECIALLY AUTHORITATIVE. HIS SPECIFICATIONS FOR AN OPEN SEA SUBMARINE AND A SELF CONTAINED DIVING SUIT WERE DECADES BEFORE THEIR TIME YET MODERN TECHNOLOGY BEARS THEM OUT TRIUMPHANTLY. TRUE TODAY'S SCIENTISTS KNOW A FEW THINGS HE DIDN'T THE SOUTH POLE ISN'T AT THE WATER'S EDGE BUT FAR INLAND SHARKS DON'T FLIP OVER BEFORE ATTACKING GIANT SQUID SPORT TEN TENTACLES NOT EIGHT SPERM WHALES DON'T PREY ON THEIR WHALEBONE COUSINS. THIS NOTWITHSTANDING VERNE FURNISHES THE MOST EVOCATIVE PORTRAYAL OF THE OCEAN DEPTHS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF JACQUES COUSTEAU AND TECHNICOLOR FILM. LASTLY THE BOOK HAS STATURE AS A NOVEL OF CHARACTER. EVEN THE SUPPORTING CAST IS SHREWDLY DRAWN PROFESSOR ARONNAX THE CAREER SCIENTIST CAUGHT IN AN ETHICAL CONFLICT CONSEIL THE COMPULSIVE CLASSIFIER WHO SUPPLIES HUMOROUS TAG LINES FOR VERNE'S FAST FACTS THE HARPOONER NED LAND A CREATURE OF CONSTANT APPETITES MAN AS HEROIC ANIMAL. BUT MUCH OF THE NOVEL'S BROODING POWER COMES FROM CAPTAIN NEMO" }, { "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "chapter": "294828", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8463/294828/294828_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "733bba643ed8542182e6bfbb6eca1cb0e4b9420880f4ca8da481fedf6e6bb528", "seconds": 236.15, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 35.6, 37.8, 38.8, 34.2, 39.5, 39.5, 37.9, 28.0, 36.4, 41.7, 39.5, 43.4, 41.3, 29.1, 41.8 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "CHAPTER THREE AS MASTER WISHES. THREE SECONDS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF J B HOBSON'S LETTER I NO MORE DREAMED OF CHASING THE UNICORN THAN OF TRYING FOR THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE. THREE SECONDS AFTER READING THIS LETTER FROM THE HONORABLE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY I UNDERSTOOD AT LAST THAT MY TRUE VOCATION MY SOLE PURPOSE IN LIFE WAS TO HUNT DOWN THIS DISTURBING MONSTER AND RID THE WORLD OF IT. EVEN SO I HAD JUST RETURNED FROM AN ARDUOUS JOURNEY EXHAUSTED AND BADLY NEEDING A REST. I WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO SEE MY COUNTRY AGAIN MY FRIENDS MY MODEST QUARTERS BY THE BOTANICAL GARDENS MY DEARLY BELOVED COLLECTIONS. BUT NOW NOTHING COULD HOLD ME BACK. I FORGOT EVERYTHING ELSE AND WITHOUT ANOTHER THOUGHT OF EXHAUSTION FRIENDS OR COLLECTIONS I ACCEPTED THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT'S OFFER. BESIDES I MUSED ALL ROADS LEAD HOME TO EUROPE AND OUR UNICORN MAY BE GRACIOUS ENOUGH TO TAKE ME TOWARD THE COAST OF FRANCE. THAT FINE ANIMAL MAY EVEN LET ITSELF BE CAPTURED IN EUROPEAN SEAS AS A PERSONAL FAVOR TO ME AND I'LL BRING BACK TO THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY AT LEAST HALF A METER OF ITS IVORY LANCE. CONSEIL WAS MY MANSERVANT. A DEVOTED LAD WHO WENT WITH ME ON ALL MY JOURNEYS A GALLANT FLEMISH BOY WHOM I GENUINELY LIKED AND WHO RETURNED THE COMPLIMENT A BORN STOIC PUNCTILIOUS ON PRINCIPLE HABITUALLY HARDWORKING RARELY STARTLED BY LIFE'S SURPRISES VERY SKILLFUL WITH HIS HANDS EFFICIENT IN HIS EVERY DUTY AND DESPITE HIS HAVING A NAME THAT MEANS COUNSEL NEVER GIVING ADVICE NOT EVEN THE UNSOLICITED KIND. FROM RUBBING SHOULDERS WITH SCIENTISTS IN OUR LITTLE UNIVERSE BY THE BOTANICAL GARDENS THE BOY HAD COME TO KNOW A THING OR TWO. IN CONSEIL I HAD A SEASONED SPECIALIST IN BIOLOGICAL CLASSIFICATION AN ENTHUSIAST WHO COULD RUN WITH ACROBATIC AGILITY UP AND DOWN THE WHOLE LADDER OF BRANCHES GROUPS CLASSES SUBCLASSES ORDERS FAMILIES GENERA SUBGENERA SPECIES AND VARIETIES. BUT THERE HIS SCIENCE CAME TO A HALT. CLASSIFYING WAS EVERYTHING TO HIM SO HE KNEW NOTHING ELSE WELL VERSED IN THE THEORY OF CLASSIFICATION HE WAS POORLY VERSED IN ITS PRACTICAL APPLICATION AND I DOUBT THAT HE COULD TELL A SPERM WHALE FROM A BALEEN WHALE. AND YET WHAT A FINE GALLANT LAD. FOR THE PAST TEN YEARS CONSEIL HAD GONE WITH ME WHEREVER SCIENCE BECKONED. NOT ONCE DID HE COMMENT ON THE LENGTH OR THE HARDSHIPS OF A JOURNEY. NEVER DID HE OBJECT TO BUCKLING UP HIS SUITCASE FOR ANY COUNTRY WHATEVER CHINA OR THE CONGO NO MATTER HOW FAR OFF IT WAS. HE WENT HERE THERE AND EVERYWHERE IN PERFECT CONTENTMENT. THE LAD WAS THIRTY YEARS OLD AND HIS AGE TO THAT OF HIS EMPLOYER WAS AS FIFTEEN IS TO TWENTY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR THIS UNDERHANDED WAY OF ADMITTING I HAD TURNED FORTY. HE WAS A FANATIC ON FORMALITY AND HE ONLY ADDRESSED ME IN THE THIRD PERSON TO THE POINT WHERE IT GOT TIRESOME. CONSEIL I REPEATED WHILE FEVERISHLY BEGINNING MY PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE. TO BE SURE I HAD CONFIDENCE IN THIS DEVOTED LAD. ORDINARILY I NEVER ASKED WHETHER OR NOT IT SUITED HIM TO GO WITH ME ON MY JOURNEYS BUT THIS TIME AN EXPEDITION WAS AT ISSUE THAT COULD DRAG ON INDEFINITELY A HAZARDOUS UNDERTAKING WHOSE PURPOSE WAS TO HUNT AN ANIMAL THAT COULD SINK A FRIGATE AS EASILY AS A WALNUT SHELL. THERE WAS GOOD REASON TO STOP AND THINK EVEN FOR THE WORLD'S MOST EMOTIONLESS MAN. WHAT WOULD CONSEIL SAY. CONSEIL I CALLED A THIRD TIME CONSEIL APPEARED. DID MASTER SUMMON ME HE SAID ENTERING. WE'RE DEPARTING IN TWO HOURS. AS MASTER WISHES CONSEIL REPLIED SERENELY. WE HAVEN'T A MOMENT TO LOSE" }, { "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "chapter": "284447", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8555/284447/284447_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "aa8a92f45fbe98fceaa749153a0d2dc568ce4548e4236b1f913a6860c2c3e1d6", "seconds": 234.39, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 52.0, 52.7, 53.0, 50.7, 53.3, 53.5, 53.9, 52.9, 53.1, 53.0, 53.0, 51.1, 53.6, 53.4, 50.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "HE FOUND THE CORD STILL TIED TO HIS BIG TOE AND AT FIRST IMAGINED HIS PRISONER WAS SAFE IN THE DRESSING ROOM. WHILE HE PUT ON HIS CLOTHES THE KING OCCASIONALLY GAVE THE CORD A SUDDEN PULL HOPING TO HURT CAP'N BILL'S BIG TOE AND MAKE HIM YELL BUT AS NO RESPONSE CAME TO THIS MEAN ACTION THE BOOLOOROO FINALLY LOOKED INTO THE ROOM ONLY TO FIND HE HAD BEEN PULLING ON A LEG OF THE COUCH AND THAT HIS PRISONER HAD ESCAPED. THEN HE FLEW INTO A MIGHTY RAGE AND RUNNING OUT INTO THE HALL HE AIMED A BLOW AT THE UNFAITHFUL GUARD KNOCKING THE FELLOW OFF HIS FEET. THEN HE RUSHED DOWN STAIRS INTO THE COURTYARD SHOUTING LOUDLY FOR HIS SOLDIERS AND THREATENING TO PATCH EVERYBODY IN HIS DOMINIONS IF THE SAILORMAN WAS NOT RECAPTURED. WHILE THE BOOLOOROO STORMED AND RAGED A BAND OF SOLDIERS AND CITIZENS CAME MARCHING IN SURROUNDING CAP'N BILL WHO WAS AGAIN FIRMLY BOUND. SO HO. NO ONE CAN RESIST THE MIGHTY BOOLOOROO OF THE BLUES SO IT IS FOLLY FOR YOU TO REBEL AGAINST MY COMMANDS. HOLD HIM FAST MY MEN AND AS SOON AS I'VE HAD MY COFFEE AND OATMEAL I'LL TAKE HIM TO THE ROOM OF THE GREAT KNIFE AND PATCH HIM. I WOULDN'T MIND A CUP O COFFEE MYSELF SAID CAP'N BILL I'VE HAD CONSID'BLE EXERCISE THIS MORNIN AND I'M ALL READY FOR BREAKFAS. VERY WELL REPLIED THE BOOLOOROO YOU SHALL EAT WITH ME FOR THEN I CAN KEEP AN EYE ON YOU MY GUARDS ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED AND I DON'T MEAN TO LET YOU OUT OF MY SIGHT AGAIN UNTIL YOU ARE PATCHED. SO CAP'N BILL AND THE BOOLOOROO HAD BREAKFAST TOGETHER SIX BLUESKINS STANDING IN A ROW BACK OF THE SAILORMAN TO GRAB HIM IF HE ATTEMPTED TO ESCAPE. BUT CAP'N BILL MADE NO SUCH ATTEMPT KNOWING IT WOULD BE USELESS. TROT WAS IN THE ROOM TOO STANDING IN A CORNER AND LISTENING TO ALL THAT WAS SAID WHILE SHE RACKED HER LITTLE BRAIN FOR AN IDEA THAT WOULD ENABLE HER TO SAVE CAP'N BILL FROM BEING PATCHED. NO ONE COULD SEE HER SO NO ONE NOT EVEN CAP'N BILL KNEW SHE WAS THERE. AFTER BREAKFAST WAS OVER A PROCESSION WAS FORMED HEADED BY THE BOOLOOROO AND THEY MARCHED THE PRISONER THROUGH THE PALACE UNTIL THEY CAME TO THE ROOM OF THE GREAT KNIFE. INVISIBLE TROT FOLLOWED SOBERLY AFTER THEM STILL WONDERING WHAT SHE COULD DO TO SAVE HER FRIEND. AS SOON AS THEY ENTERED THE ROOM OF THE GREAT KNIFE THE BOOLOOROO GAVE A YELL OF DISAPPOINTMENT. THE FRIGHTENED SOLDIERS HURRIED AWAY TO FIND TIGGLE AND TROT WAS WELL PLEASED BECAUSE SHE KNEW TIGGLE WAS BY THIS TIME SAFELY HIDDEN. THE BOOLOOROO STAMPED UP AND DOWN THE ROOM MUTTERING THREATS AND DECLARING CAP'N BILL SHOULD BE PATCHED WHETHER TIGGLE WAS FOUND OR NOT AND WHILE THEY WAITED TROT TOOK TIME TO MAKE AN INSPECTION OF THE PLACE WHICH SHE NOW SAW FOR THE FIRST TIME IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. THE ROOM OF THE GREAT KNIFE WAS HIGH AND BIG AND AROUND IT RAN ROWS OF BENCHES FOR THE SPECTATORS TO SIT UPON. IN ONE PLACE AT THE HEAD OF THE ROOM WAS A RAISED PLATFORM FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY WITH ELEGANT THRONE CHAIRS FOR THE KING AND QUEEN AND SIX SMALLER BUT RICHLY UPHOLSTERED CHAIRS FOR THE SNUBNOSED PRINCESSES. THE POOR QUEEN BY THE WAY WAS SELDOM SEEN AS SHE PASSED ALL HER TIME PLAYING SOLITAIRE WITH A DECK THAT WAS ONE CARD SHORT HOPING THAT BEFORE SHE HAD LIVED HER ENTIRE SIX HUNDRED YEARS SHE WOULD WIN THE GAME. THEREFORE HER MAJESTY PAID NO ATTENTION TO ANYONE AND NO ONE PAID ANY ATTENTION TO HER. IN THE CENTER OF THE ROOM STOOD THE TERRIBLE KNIFE THAT GAVE THE PLACE ITS NAME A NAME DREADED BY EVERY INHABITANT OF THE BLUE CITY. THE KNIFE WAS BUILT INTO A HUGE FRAMEWORK LIKE A DERRICK THAT REACHED TO THE CEILING AND IT WAS SO ARRANGED THAT WHEN THE BOOLOOROO PULLED A CORD THE GREAT BLADE WOULD DROP DOWN IN ITS FRAME AND NEATLY CUT IN TWO THE PERSON WHO STOOD UNDER IT. AND IN ORDER THAT THE SLICING WOULD BE ACCURATE THERE WAS ANOTHER FRAME TO WHICH THE PRISONER WAS TIED SO THAT HE COULDN'T WIGGLE EITHER WAY. THIS FRAME WAS ON ROLLERS SO THAT IT COULD BE PLACED DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH THE KNIFE" }, { "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "chapter": "284449", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8555/284449/284449_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "dd378ce56d5547410a4f8a397b295a3482c94ca105039b85b26307664b781e0d", "seconds": 235.21, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 50.7, 50.6, 48.7, 51.0, 51.5, 51.6, 51.0, 51.4, 51.4, 49.4, 48.1, 48.9, 51.9, 48.7, 51.7 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "SO THEY WERE QUITE WILLING TO OBEY THE ORDERS OF THEIR GIRL QUEEN AND IN A SHORT TIME THE BLASTS OF TRUMPETS AND ROLL OF DRUMS AND CLASHING OF CYMBALS TOLD TROT AND CAP'N BILL THAT THE BLUE BANDS HAD ASSEMBLED BEFORE THE PALACE. IN THIS ORDER THEY PROCEEDED TO THE MAIN GATE WHICH TROT ORDERED THE GUARDS TO THROW WIDE OPEN. THEN THEY ALL MARCHED OUT A LITTLE WAY INTO THE FIELDS AND FOUND THAT THE ARMY OF PINKIES HAD ALREADY FORMED AND WAS ADVANCING STEADILY TOWARD THEM. AT THE HEAD OF THE PINKIES WERE GHIP GHISIZZLE AND BUTTON BRIGHT WHO HAD THE PARROT ON HIS SHOULDER AND THEY WERE SUPPORTED BY CAPTAIN CORALIE AND CAPTAIN TINTINT AND ROSALIE THE WITCH. THEY HAD DECIDED TO CAPTURE THE BLUE CITY AT ALL HAZARDS THAT THEY MIGHT RESCUE TROT AND CAP'N BILL AND CONQUER THE BOOLOOROO SO WHEN FROM A DISTANCE THEY SAW THE BLUESKINS MARCH FROM THE GATE WITH BANNERS FLYING AND BANDS PLAYING THEY SUPPOSED A MOST TERRIBLE FIGHT WAS ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE. HOWEVER AS THE TWO FORCES CAME NEARER TOGETHER BUTTON BRIGHT SPIED TROT AND CAP'N BILL STANDING BEFORE THE ENEMY AND THE SIGHT ASTONISHED HIM CONSIDERABLY. WELCOME FRIENDS. SHOUTED CAP'N BILL IN A LOUD VOICE AND WELCOME. CRIED TROT AND WELCOME. ROARED THE BLUE SOLDIERS AND THE PEOPLE OF THE BLUE CITY. HOORAY YELLED THE PARROT. AND THEN HE FLAPPED HIS WINGS AND BARKED LIKE A DOG WITH PURE DELIGHT AND ADDED AS FAST AS HIS BIRD'S TONGUE COULD SPEAK. SAID BUTTON BRIGHT I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK THE PINKIES WERE AMAZED AT THE STRANGE RECEPTION OF THE BLUES AND HESITATED TO ADVANCE BUT TROT NOW RAN UP IN FRONT OF THEM AND MADE A LITTLE SPEECH. PINKIES SAID SHE YOUR QUEEN HAS CONQUERED THE BOOLOOROO AND IS NOW THE QUEEN OF THE BLUES. ALL OF SKY ISLAND EXCEPT THE FOG BANK IS NOW MY KINGDOM SO I WELCOME MY FAITHFUL PINKIES TO MY BLUE CITY WHERE YOU ARE TO BE ROYALLY ENTERTAINED AND HAVE A GOOD TIME. THE WAR IS OVER AN EVER'BODY MUST BE SOCIABLE AN HAPPY OR I'LL KNOW THE REASON WHY. NOW INDEED THE PINKIES RAISED A GREAT SHOUT OF JOY AND THE BLUES RESPONDED WITH ANOTHER JOYFUL SHOUT AND ROSALIE KISSED THE LITTLE GIRL AND SAID SHE HAD PERFORMED WONDERS AND EVERYBODY SHOOK HANDS WITH CAP'N BILL AND CONGRATULATED HIM UPON HIS ESCAPE AND THE PARROT FLEW TO TROT'S SHOULDER AND SCREECHED. WHEN THE BLUESKINS SAW GHIP GHISIZZLE THEY RAISED ANOTHER GREAT SHOUT FOR HE WAS THE FAVORITE OF THE SOLDIERS AND VERY POPULAR WITH ALL THE PEOPLE. BUT GHIP GHISIZZLE DID NOT HEED THE SHOUTING. HE WAS LOOKING DOWNCAST AND SAD AND IT WAS EASY TO SEE HE WAS DISAPPOINTED BECAUSE HE HAD NOT CONQUERED THE BOOLOOROO HIMSELF. BUT THE PEOPLE CALLED UPON HIM FOR A SPEECH SO HE FACED THE BLUESKINS AND SAID. I ESCAPED FROM THE CITY BECAUSE THE BOOLOOROO TRIED TO PATCH ME AS YOU ALL KNOW AND THE SIX SNUBNOSED PRINCESSES TRIED TO MARRY ME WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN A FAR GREATER MISFORTUNE. SINCE LAST THURSDAY I GHIP GHISIZZLE HAVE BEEN THE LAWFUL BOOLOOROO OF THE BLUE COUNTRY BUT NOW THAT YOU ARE CONQUERED BY QUEEN TROT I SUPPOSE I AM CONQUERED TOO AND YOU HAVE NO BOOLOOROO AT ALL. HOORAY CRIED THE PARROT. WHEN HE FINISHED SHE SAID CHEERFULLY. DON'T WORRY SIZZLE DEAR IT'LL ALL COME RIGHT PRETTY SOON. NOW THEN LET'S ENTER THE CITY AN ENJOY THE GRAND FEAST THAT'S BEING COOKED I'M NEARLY STARVED MYSELF FOR THIS CONQUERIN KINGDOMS IS HARD WORK. SO THE PINKIES AND THE BLUES MARCHED SIDE BY SIDE INTO THE CITY AND THERE WAS GREAT REJOICING AND MUSIC AND DANCING AND FEASTING AND GAMES AND MERRYMAKING THAT LASTED FOR THREE FULL DAYS. THE PARROT PERCHED UPON THE BACK OF QUEEN TROT'S CHAIR AND THE GIRL FED IT HERSELF BEING GLAD TO HAVE THE JOLLY BIRD WITH HER AGAIN" }, { "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "chapter": "292519", "sourceFile": "test-clean/8555/292519/292519_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "d21a93ad50d0671e00427a6ba6c10ce71b6b409b5072a527b1780a538db32a1b", "seconds": 237.75, "pieces": 17, "cutLevelsDb": [ 54.3, 55.0, 53.4, 53.0, 54.9, 55.2, 54.5, 51.7, 53.6, 54.3, 52.8, 55.0, 53.7, 54.4, 53.8, 51.5 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "BRIGHTER THAN EARLY DAWN'S MOST BRILLIANT DYE ARE BLOWN CLEAR BANDS OF COLOR THROUGH THE SKY THAT SWIRL AND SWEEP AND MEET TO BREAK AND FOAM LIKE RAINBOW VEILS UPON A BUBBLE'S DOME. YOURS ARE THE SONGS THAT BURST ABOUT MY EARS OR BLOW AWAY AS MANY COLORED SPHERES. YOU ARE THE STAR THAT MADE THE SKIES ALL BRIGHT YET TORE ITSELF AWAY IN FLAMING FLIGHT YOU ARE THE TREE THAT SUDDENLY AWOKE YOU ARE THE ROSE THAT CAME TO LIFE AND SPOKE. GUIDED BY YOU HOW WE MIGHT STROLL TOWARDS DEATH OUR ONLY MUSIC ONE ANOTHER'S BREATH THROUGH GARDENS INTIMATE WITH HOLLYHOCKS WHERE SILENT POPPIES BURN BETWEEN THE ROCKS BY POOLS WHERE BIRCHES BEND TO CONFIDANTS ABOVE GREEN WATERS SCUMMED WITH LILY PLANTS. THERE WE MIGHT WANDER YOU AND I ALONE THROUGH GARDENS FILLED WITH MARBLE SEATS MOSS GROWN AND FOUNTAINS WATER THREADS THAT WINDS DISPERSE WHILE IN THE SPRAY THE BIRDS SIT AND CONVERSE. AND WHEN THE FIREFLIES MIX THEIR CIRCLING GLOW THROUGH THE DARK PLANTS THEN GENTLY MIGHT I KNOW YOUR LIPS LIGHT AS THE WINGS OF THE DRAGON FLIES MERELY DREAMS FLUTTERING IN MY EYES YOU THOUGHT I HAD FORGOTTEN. YOU THOUGHT I HAD FORGOTTEN WELL I HAD. ALTHOUGH I NEVER GUESSED I COULD FORGET THOSE FEW GREAT MOMENTS WHEN WE BOTH WENT MAD. IT WAS SOME TRICK THE WAY YOUR EYEBROWS RAISE. YOUR HANDS SOME VIVID TRIFLE. WITH A START THEN I REMEMBERED HOW I LIVED ALONE WRITING BAD POEMS AND EATING OUT MY HEART ALL FOR YOUR BEAUTY HOW THE TIME HAS FLOWN. VENICE. IN A SUNSET GLOWING OF CRIMSON AND GOLD SHE LIES THE GLORY OF THE WORLD A BEACHED KING'S GALLEY WHOSE SAILS ARE FURLED WHO IS HUNG WITH TAPESTRIES RICH AND OLD. SHE IS A GODDESS LEFT FOR US VEILED WITH THE SOFTENING VEILS OF TIME HER BLUE VEINED BREASTS ARE NOW SUBLIME HER MOULDED TORSO GLORIOUS. THE PITY THAT WE MUST COME AND GO. WHILE THE OLD GOLD AND THE MARBLE STAYS FOREVER GLEAMING ITS SOFT STRONG BLAZE CALM IN THE EARLY EVENING GLOW. AND STILL THE SENSITIVE SILHOUETTES OF THE GONDOLAS PASS AND LEAVE NO TRACK LIGHT ON THE TIDES AS LILIES AND BLACK IN THE RIPPLING WATERS OF LONG SUNSETS. THE NEW MACABER. THE PLEASANT GRAVEYARD OF MY SOUL WITH SENTIMENTAL CYPRESS TREES AND FLOWERS IS FILLED THAT I MAY STROLL IN MEDITATION AT MY EASE. AND WHILE NIGHT RUSTLES THROUGH THE TREES DRAGGING THE STARS ALONG I KNOW THE MOON IS RISING ON THE BREEZE QUIVERING AS IN A RIVER'S FLOW. AND AH. THAT MOON OF SILVER SHEEN. IT IS MY HEART HUNG IN THE SKY AND NO CLOUDS EVER FLOAT BETWEEN THE GRAVE FLOWERS AND MY HEART ON HIGH. I DO NOT READ UPON EACH STONE THE NAME THAT ONCE WAS CARVEN THERE I MERELY NOTE NEW BLOSSOMS BLOWN AND BREATHE THE PERFUME OF THE AIR. THUS WALK I THROUGH MY WONDERLAND WHILE ALL THE EVENING IS ATUNE BENEATH THE CYPRESS TREES THAT STAND LIKE CANDLES TO THE BARREN MOON. TO WAR" }, { "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "chapter": "157963", "sourceFile": "test-clean/908/157963/157963_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "de80f193da817cc32290c1fd6edd3d4562468c830f608e5e2b70b449e6c81a84", "seconds": 219.87, "pieces": 15, "cutLevelsDb": [ 29.4, 30.1, 30.6, 30.0, 29.5, 29.8, 30.5, 31.0, 30.7, 31.6, 36.8, 31.5, 31.7, 31.1 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "DOES THE EAGLE KNOW WHAT IS IN THE PIT. TO FADE AWAY LIKE MORNING BEAUTY FROM HER MORTAL DAY DOWN BY THE RIVER OF ADONA HER SOFT VOICE IS HEARD AND THUS HER GENTLE LAMENTATION FALLS LIKE MORNING DEW. O LIFE OF THIS OUR SPRING. WHY FADES THE LOTUS OF THE WATER. WHY FADE THESE CHILDREN OF THE SPRING. BORN BUT TO SMILE AND FALL AH. THEL IS LIKE A WATRY BOW AND LIKE A PARTING CLOUD LIKE A REFLECTION IN A GLASS LIKE SHADOWS IN THE WATER LIKE DREAMS OF INFANTS LIKE A SMILE UPON AN INFANTS FACE. LIKE THE DOVES VOICE LIKE TRANSIENT DAY LIKE MUSIC IN THE AIR AH. GENTLE MAY I LAY ME DOWN AND GENTLE REST MY HEAD. AND GENTLE SLEEP THE SLEEP OF DEATH AND GENTLY HEAR THE VOICE OF HIM THAT WALKETH IN THE GARDEN IN THE EVENING TIME. THE LILLY OF THE VALLEY BREATHING IN THE HUMBLE GRASS ANSWERD THE LOVELY MAID AND SAID I AM A WATRY WEED AND I AM VERY SMALL AND LOVE TO DWELL IN LOWLY VALES SO WEAK THE GILDED BUTTERFLY SCARCE PERCHES ON MY HEAD YET I AM VISITED FROM HEAVEN AND HE THAT SMILES ON ALL WALKS IN THE VALLEY AND EACH MORN OVER ME SPREADS HIS HAND SAYING REJOICE THOU HUMBLE GRASS THOU NEW BORN LILY FLOWER. THOU GENTLE MAID OF SILENT VALLEYS AND OF MODEST BROOKS FOR THOU SHALL BE CLOTHED IN LIGHT AND FED WITH MORNING MANNA TILL SUMMERS HEAT MELTS THEE BESIDE THE FOUNTAINS AND THE SPRINGS TO FLOURISH IN ETERNAL VALES THEY WHY SHOULD THEL COMPLAIN. WHY SHOULD THE MISTRESS OF THE VALES OF HAR UTTER A SIGH. SHE CEASD AND SMILD IN TEARS THEN SAT DOWN IN HER SILVER SHRINE. THEL ANSWERD O THOU LITTLE VIRGIN OF THE PEACEFUL VALLEY. THY WINE DOTH PURIFY THE GOLDEN HONEY THY PERFUME. WHICH THOU DOST SCATTER ON EVERY LITTLE BLADE OF GRASS THAT SPRINGS REVIVES THE MILKED COW AND TAMES THE FIRE BREATHING STEED. BUT THEL IS LIKE A FAINT CLOUD KINDLED AT THE RISING SUN I VANISH FROM MY PEARLY THRONE AND WHO SHALL FIND MY PLACE. QUEEN OF THE VALES THE LILY ANSWERED ASK THE TENDER CLOUD AND IT SHALL TELL THEE WHY IT GLITTERS IN THE MORNING SKY. AND WHY IT SCATTERS ITS BRIGHT BEAUTY THRO THE HUMID AIR. DESCEND O LITTLE CLOUD AND HOVER BEFORE THE EYES OF THEL. O LITTLE CLOUD THE VIRGIN SAID I CHARGE THEE TO TELL ME WHY THOU COMPLAINEST NOW WHEN IN ONE HOUR THOU FADE AWAY THEN WE SHALL SEEK THEE BUT NOT FIND AH THEL IS LIKE TO THEE. I PASS AWAY YET I COMPLAIN AND NO ONE HEARS MY VOICE. THE CLOUD THEN SHEWD HIS GOLDEN HEAD AND HIS BRIGHT FORM EMERG'D. HOVERING AND GLITTERING ON THE AIR BEFORE THE FACE OF THEL. O VIRGIN KNOW'ST THOU NOT OUR STEEDS DRINK OF THE GOLDEN SPRINGS WHERE LUVAH DOTH RENEW HIS HORSES LOOKST THOU ON MY YOUTH. AND FEAREST THOU BECAUSE I VANISH AND AM SEEN NO MORE. NOTHING REMAINS O MAID I TELL THEE WHEN I PASS AWAY" }, { "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "chapter": "31957", "sourceFile": "test-clean/908/31957/31957_0000.flac", "sourceSha256": "dc2c10713c2d66223451a602026c9e46c1c6634024bc59d4b2944957d0a7d8e1", "seconds": 234.65, "pieces": 16, "cutLevelsDb": [ 35.8, 34.9, 34.5, 35.1, 35.5, 34.5, 36.5, 34.8, 35.6, 35.3, 35.5, 35.4, 35.1, 35.4, 35.3 ], "cutsNotInPause": 0, "reference": "ALL IS SAID WITHOUT A WORD. I SIT BENEATH THY LOOKS AS CHILDREN DO IN THE NOON SUN WITH SOULS THAT TREMBLE THROUGH THEIR HAPPY EYELIDS FROM AN UNAVERRED YET PRODIGAL INWARD JOY. BEHOLD I ERRED IN THAT LAST DOUBT. AND YET I CANNOT RUE THE SIN MOST BUT THE OCCASION THAT WE TWO SHOULD FOR A MOMENT STAND UNMINISTERED BY A MUTUAL PRESENCE. AH KEEP NEAR AND CLOSE THOU DOVE LIKE HELP. I DID NOT WRONG MYSELF SO BUT I PLACED A WRONG ON THEE. IS THE SAME THE SAME PERPLEXED AND RUFFLED BY LIFE'S STRATEGY. WHEN CALLED BEFORE I TOLD HOW HASTILY I DROPPED MY FLOWERS OR BRAKE OFF FROM A GAME. TO RUN AND ANSWER WITH THE SMILE THAT CAME AT PLAY LAST MOMENT AND WENT ON WITH ME THROUGH MY OBEDIENCE. SHALL I NEVER MISS HOME TALK AND BLESSING AND THE COMMON KISS THAT COMES TO EACH IN TURN NOR COUNT IT STRANGE WHEN I LOOK UP TO DROP ON A NEW RANGE OF WALLS AND FLOORS ANOTHER HOME THAN THIS. NAY WILT THOU FILL THAT PLACE BY ME WHICH IS FILLED BY DEAD EYES TOO TENDER TO KNOW CHANGE THAT'S HARDEST. IF TO CONQUER LOVE HAS TRIED TO CONQUER GRIEF TRIES MORE AS ALL THINGS PROVE FOR GRIEF INDEED IS LOVE AND GRIEF BESIDE. ALAS I HAVE GRIEVED SO I AM HARD TO LOVE. YET LOVE ME WILT THOU. OPEN THY HEART WIDE AND FOLD WITHIN THE WET WINGS OF THY DOVE. COULD IT MEAN TO LAST A LOVE SET PENDULOUS BETWEEN SORROW AND SORROW. NAY I RATHER THRILLED DISTRUSTING EVERY LIGHT THAT SEEMED TO GILD THE ONWARD PATH AND FEARED TO OVERLEAN A FINGER EVEN. AND THOUGH I HAVE GROWN SERENE AND STRONG SINCE THEN I THINK THAT GOD HAS WILLED A STILL RENEWABLE FEAR. O LOVE O TROTH. LEST THESE ENCLASPED HANDS SHOULD NEVER HOLD THIS MUTUAL KISS DROP DOWN BETWEEN US BOTH AS AN UNOWNED THING ONCE THE LIPS BEING COLD. AND LOVE BE FALSE. IF HE TO KEEP ONE OATH MUST LOSE ONE JOY BY HIS LIFE'S STAR FORETOLD. SLOW TO WORLD GREETINGS QUICK WITH ITS O LIST WHEN THE ANGELS SPEAK. A RING OF AMETHYST I COULD NOT WEAR HERE PLAINER TO MY SIGHT THAN THAT FIRST KISS. THE SECOND PASSED IN HEIGHT THE FIRST AND SOUGHT THE FOREHEAD AND HALF MISSED HALF FALLING ON THE HAIR O BEYOND MEED. THAT WAS THE CHRISM OF LOVE WHICH LOVE'S OWN CROWN WITH SANCTIFYING SWEETNESS DID PRECEDE THE THIRD UPON MY LIPS WAS FOLDED DOWN IN PERFECT PURPLE STATE SINCE WHEN INDEED I HAVE BEEN PROUD AND SAID MY LOVE MY OWN. DEAREST TEACH ME SO TO POUR OUT GRATITUDE AS THOU DOST GOOD. THEY LOVE THROUGH ALL THIS WORLD OF OURS. MUSSULMANS AND GIAOURS THROW KERCHIEFS AT A SMILE AND HAVE NO RUTH FOR ANY WEEPING. POLYPHEME'S WHITE TOOTH SLIPS ON THE NUT IF AFTER FREQUENT SHOWERS THE SHELL IS OVER SMOOTH AND NOT SO MUCH WILL TURN THE THING CALLED LOVE ASIDE TO HATE OR ELSE TO OBLIVION. BUT THOU ART NOT SUCH A LOVER MY BELOVED" } ], "records": [ { "id": "lf-whole-1089-134686_0000", "condition": "whole", "base": "1089-134686_0000", "sha256": "f1c70a5dfe4924257f8dfdbfd1fc86504edc5a5b7032e1baa349fd95edd326a0", "seconds": 230.46 }, { "id": "lf-piece-1089-134686_0000-00", "condition": "pieces", "base": "1089-134686_0000", "piece": 0, "start": 0.0, "end": 16.95, "sha256": "c5e5da07b2279807939d7cc7c61e80e40aafda4b80d718e312a1d2c23491c754", "seconds": 16.95 }, { "id": "lf-piece-1089-134686_0000-01", "condition": "pieces", "base": "1089-134686_0000", "piece": 1, "start": 16.95, "end": 36.15, "sha256": "8b6408144f2fcde963797bf0d533a5c2c92a9513a23f7bac350f64ceefe14a77", "seconds": 19.2 }, { "id": "lf-piece-1089-134686_0000-02", "condition": "pieces", "base": "1089-134686_0000", "piece": 2, "start": 36.15, "end": 47.45, "sha256": "e7cd58294bc8902571f156d5cdabe6206198a4cebbdc1b95d02a5dde2dc338c5", "seconds": 11.3 }, { "id": "lf-piece-1089-134686_0000-03", "condition": "pieces", 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"908-31957_0000", "piece": 15, "start": 227.45, "end": 234.65, "sha256": "8e9cfcd90ac41cd8fa1e7e8c66fd85617f2b90c10f327c375b1ad34dc5cd2fc3", "seconds": 7.2 } ] }, "normalization": "Both texts: Unicode NFKC, lowercase, words = maximal runs of letters and digits; punctuation and symbols dropped. LibriSpeech's transcripts write numbers as words, so an engine that writes digits (1850 for eighteen fifty) is charged for it in BOTH conditions alike. Word errors = edit distance between the word sequences (equal weights), summed over an engine's examples and divided by their reference words.", "timing": "Recordings run one at a time on a warm engine (one uncounted warm-up first), English given (Apple: en-US). `speed` = audio seconds / seconds from handing over the audio to the text; for pieces, the sum over the pieces.", "whisper": "Whisper ran with greedy decoding and timestamps on, which is how whisper.cpp moves through audio longer than its 30-second window; whisper.cpp's beam search was not tested.", "intervals": "95% intervals from 5,000 bootstrap draws of speakers with all their examples (seed 7); differences are paired by speaker. Families, Bonferroni within each: length cost per engine (3), engine against engine within a condition (6), one engine's length cost against another's (3). A difference counts as measured (beyondChance) only when its family-wide interval (familyLow to familyHigh) excludes zero.", "summary": [ { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1242, "wer": 2.33, "low": 2.01, "high": 2.65, "deleted": 0.39, "inserted": 0.18, "lostPassage": 0, "addedPassage": 0, "longestGap": 3, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 31.8 }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1245, "wer": 2.34, "low": 2.01, "high": 2.67, "deleted": 0.35, "inserted": 0.2, "lostPassage": 0, "addedPassage": 0, "longestGap": 2, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 38.9 }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1308, "wer": 2.45, "low": 2.1, "high": 2.83, "deleted": 0.44, "inserted": 0.28, "lostPassage": 2, "addedPassage": 0, "longestGap": 15, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 20.5 }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1437, "wer": 2.7, "low": 2.36, "high": 3.06, "deleted": 0.48, "inserted": 0.39, "lostPassage": 1, "addedPassage": 0, "longestGap": 30, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 25.7 }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1253, "wer": 2.35, "low": 2.08, "high": 2.63, "deleted": 0.33, "inserted": 0.2, "lostPassage": 0, "addedPassage": 0, "longestGap": 3, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 16.4 }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "examples": 84, "speakers": 40, "words": 53292, "errors": 1549, "wer": 2.91, "low": 2.54, "high": 3.27, "deleted": 0.55, "inserted": 0.51, "lostPassage": 4, "addedPassage": 5, "longestGap": 21, "audioHours": 5.45, "speed": 19.6 } ], "lengthCost": [ { "engine": "apple", "points": 0.01, "low": -0.1, "high": 0.11, "familyLow": -0.12, "familyHigh": 0.14, "beyondChance": false }, { "engine": "parakeet", "points": 0.25, "low": 0.06, "high": 0.45, "familyLow": 0.02, "familyHigh": 0.49, "beyondChance": true }, { "engine": "whisper", "points": 0.56, "low": 0.28, "high": 0.84, "familyLow": 0.23, "familyHigh": 0.91, "beyondChance": true } ], "engineDifferences": [ { "condition": "whole", "engine": "apple", "against": "parakeet", "points": -0.36, "low": -0.64, "high": -0.09, "familyLow": -0.74, "familyHigh": -0.0, "beyondChance": true }, { "condition": "whole", "engine": "apple", "against": "whisper", "points": -0.57, "low": -0.86, "high": -0.28, "familyLow": -0.95, "familyHigh": -0.15, "beyondChance": true }, { "condition": "whole", "engine": "parakeet", "against": "whisper", "points": -0.21, "low": -0.5, "high": 0.08, "familyLow": -0.62, "familyHigh": 0.18, "beyondChance": false }, { "condition": "pieces", "engine": "apple", "against": "parakeet", "points": -0.12, "low": -0.45, "high": 0.18, "familyLow": -0.58, "familyHigh": 0.27, "beyondChance": false }, { "condition": "pieces", "engine": "apple", "against": "whisper", "points": -0.02, "low": -0.29, "high": 0.23, "familyLow": -0.38, "familyHigh": 0.32, "beyondChance": false }, { "condition": "pieces", "engine": "parakeet", "against": "whisper", "points": 0.1, "low": -0.1, "high": 0.31, "familyLow": -0.16, "familyHigh": 0.39, "beyondChance": false } ], "lengthCostDifferences": [ { "engine": "apple", "against": "parakeet", "points": -0.24, "low": -0.49, "high": -0.01, "familyLow": -0.54, "familyHigh": 0.03, "beyondChance": false }, { "engine": "apple", "against": "whisper", "points": -0.55, "low": -0.86, "high": -0.24, "familyLow": -0.94, "familyHigh": -0.17, "beyondChance": true }, { "engine": "parakeet", "against": "whisper", "points": -0.31, "low": -0.62, "high": -0.02, "familyLow": -0.69, "familyHigh": 0.04, "beyondChance": false } ], "results": [ { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 6124.5, "words": 553, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips, and carrots, and bruised potatoes, and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick peppered, flower, fattened sauce, stuff it into you. His belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy secret night after early nightfall. The yellow lamps would light up here and there the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling always nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own will, or a sudden call to his sin, loving soul from their soft, perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them, his eyes, a ring of porter froth on a clothless table, or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention, or a gaudy playbill. His ears, the drawling jargon of greeting. Hello, Bertie, any good in your mind number 10 fresh Nelly is waiting on you. Good night husband, coming in to have a short time, the equation on the page of his scribbler, began to spread out a widening tale, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again, the indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing, the eyes opening and closing were stars being borne and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life, bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its center, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer, and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon, wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble, and a cloud of fine star dust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly, and to spread abroad, its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself, sin by sin, spreading abroad the bale fire of its burning stars, and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched, and the cold darkness filled chaos. A cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul. At his first violent sin. He had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead, the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself, and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardor extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally, not once, but many times, and he knew that while he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin, he multiplied his guilt and his punishment, his days and works, and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 6996.8, "words": 553, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips, and carrots, and bruised potatoes, and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick peppered, flower, fattened sauce, stuff it into you. His belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy secret night. After early nightfall, the yellow lamps would light up here, and there the squalid quarter of the brothels, he would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling always nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own, will, or a sudden call to his sin, loving soul from their soft perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses stultified only by his desire would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them. His eyes, a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention or a gaudy playbill, his ears, the drawling jargon of greeting. Hello Bertie, any good in your mind number 10 fresh. Nelly is waiting on you. Good night husband coming in to have a short time. The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tale, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing the eyes opening and closing were stars being born, and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its center, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music the music came nearer and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon, wandering, companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble, and a cloud of fine star dust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page, whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly, and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul, going forth to experience, unfolding itself, sin by sin, spreading abroad, the bale fire of its burning stars and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched. And the cold darkness filled chaos, a cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul at his first violent sin. He had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead, the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardor extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally not once, but many times, and he knew that. While he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin, he multiplied his guilt and his punishment, his days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace, having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 7276.7, "words": 637, "errors": 16, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He could wait no longer a full hour had passed since his father had gone in with Dan Crosbie, the tutor to find out for him something about the university for a full hour. He had paced up and down waiting, but he could wait no longer. He set off abruptly for the bull, walking rapidly, lest his father shrill whistle might call him back, and in a few moments, he had rounded the curve at the police barrack and was safe. Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea as he had read from her listless silence yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride, and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul, aging and strengthening in her eyes. A dim antagonism gathered force within him, and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty, and when it passed cloud like, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again. He was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. The university, so he had passed beyond the challenge of the sentries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood, and had sought to keep him among them that he might be subject to them and serve their ends. Pride after satisfaction uplifted him like long, slow waves. The end he had been born to serve, yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path, and now it beckoned to him once more, and a new adventure was about to be opened to him. It seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music leaping upwards atone, and downwards, a diminished forth, upwards, a tone, and downwards, a major third, like triple branching flames, leaping fitfully, flame after flame, out of a midnight wood. It was an elfin prelude, endless and formless, and as it grew wilder and faster, the flames leaping out of time, he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses, wild creatures racing, their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves, their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of harts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more, and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman, whose feet are as the feet of hearts, and underneath the everlasting arms. The pride of that dim image brought back to his mind, the dignity of the office he had refused. All through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny, and when the moment had come for him to obey the call, he had turned aside. obeying a wayward instinct. Now, time lay between, the oils of ordination would never anoint his body. He had refused. Why? He turned seaward from the road at Dollymount, and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge, he felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet. A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull, and had begun to pass 2 x 2 across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. The uncouth faces passed him 2 x 2, stained yellow, or red, or livid by the sea, and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference, a faint stain of personal shame and commiseration rose to his own face, angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow, swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top heavy silk hats. and humble tape like collars, and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother Hickey. Brother McCardle, brother Kioff." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 9814.3, "words": 637, "errors": 20, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He could wait no longer a full hour had passed since his father had gone in with Dan Crosbie, the tutor to find out for him something about the university for a full hour. He had paced up and down waiting, but he could wait no longer. He set off abruptly for the bull, walking rapidly, lest his father's shrill whistle might call him back, and in a few moments, he had rounded the curve at the police barrack and was safe. Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea as he had read from her listless silence. Yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride, and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul, aging and strengthening in her eyes. A dim antagonism gathered force within him and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty. And when it passed cloud like leaving his mind, serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware, dimly, and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. The university so he had passed beyond the challenge of the sentries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood, and had sought to keep him among them, that he might be subject to them and serve their ends. Pride after satisfaction, uplifted him like long, slow waves the end he had been born to serve yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path. And now it beckoned to him once more, and a new adventure was about to be opened to him. It seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music, leaping upwards, atone and downwards, a diminished forth upwards, atone and downwards, a major third like triple branching flames, leaping fitfully. Flame after flame out of a midnight wood, it was an elfin prelude, endless and formless, and as it grew wilder and faster, the flames leaping out of time, he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses, wild creatures racing. Their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves, their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of hearts and hinds and antelopes until he heard them no more, and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman. Whose feet are as the feet of hearts, and underneath the everlasting arms, the pride of that dim image brought back to his mind, the dignity of the office he had refused. All through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny, and when the moment had come for him to obey the call, he had turned aside, obeying a wayward instinct. Now time lay between the oils of ordination would never anoint his body. He had refused. Why he turned seaward from the road at dolly mount, and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge. He felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet. A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull and had begun to pass 2 x 2 across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. The uncouth faces passed him 2 x 2 stained yellow or red or livid by the sea, and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference, a faint stain of personal shame and commiseration, rose to his own face. Angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top heavy silk hats and humble tape, like collars and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother, hickey, brother, macardle, brother, kioff." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 7494.1, "words": 639, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Thus, you know, in your study of sculpture, we saw that the essential aim of the Greek art was tranquil action, the chief aim of Gothic art was passionate rest, a peace, an eternity of intense sentiment. You will find me continually speaking of four men, Titian, Holbein, turner, and tintaret, in almost the same terms, they unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colorists, sometimes as chiaroscurists. By being studious of color, they are studious of division, and while the chiroscurus devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing, unseparated light. The colorists have for their function, the attainment of beauty, by arrangement of the divisions of light. My first and principal reason was that they enforced, beyond all resistance, on any student who might attempt to copy them, this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side. Some of the touches, indeed, when the tint has been mixed with much water, have been laid in little drops or pawns, so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge. And it follows also from this law of construction, that there must never be any hesitation, or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit. It is the head of a parrot, with a little flower in his beak, from a picture of Carpaccios. One of his series of the Life of St. George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath is left, for the most part. One touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark gray to find the outer curve, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. There are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass. Yet it is ten to one that in any modern gallery, such a picture would be hung thirty feet from the ground. For, believe me, the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock robin is to be read, and of a grass plot to be green. And the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light, which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch. Now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly, and harmonize with the other hues, it becomes somehow more precious and pearly than the white paper, and that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all round it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell as jewels, if they are gradated justly. Again, there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however deep, of these two studies, so that, if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance. But in this vignette, copied from Turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. They are beyond all other works than I know existing, dependent for their effect on low, subdued tones, their favorite choice in time of day being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of gray paper. It may be that a great colorless will use his utmost force of color, as a singer his full power of voice. But, loud or low. The virtue is in both cases always in refinement, never in loudness. It must, remember, be one or the other. But there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one, if it be right and profitable, though incomplete. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 7113.7, "words": 639, "errors": 15, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Thus, you know, in your study of sculpture, we saw that the essential aim of the Greek art was tranquil action, the chief aim of Gothic art was passionate rest, a peace, an eternity of intense sentiment. You will find me continually speaking of four men. Titian, holbein, turner, and tintoret in almost the same terms they unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colorists, sometimes as chiaroscurists. By being studious of color, they are studious of division, and while the chiroscurus devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing, unseparated light, the colorists have for their function, the attainment of beauty, by arrangement of the divisions of light. My first and principal reason was that they enforced, beyond all resistance on any student who might attempt to copy them, this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side. Some of the touches, indeed, when the tint has been mixed with much water have been laid in little drops or ponds, so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge. And it follows also from this law of construction that there must never be any hesitation or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit. It is the head of a parrot, with a little flower in his beak, from a picture of Carpaccios. One of his series of the life of saint George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath his left for the most part. One touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark gray to find the outer curve, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. There are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass yet it is 10 to one that in any modern gallery such a picture would be hung 30 feet from the ground. For, believe me, the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock robin is to be read, and of a grass plot to be green. And the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light, which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch. Now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly, and harmonize with the other hues, it becomes somehow more precious and pearly. Than the white paper, and that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all round it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell is jewels, if they are gradated justly. Again, there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however, deep of these two studies so that if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance, but in this vignette. Copied from turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. They are beyond all other works than I know existing dependent for their effect on low subdued tones. Their favorite choice in time of day, being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of gray paper. It may be that a great colorless will use his utmost force of color as a singer, his full power of voice, but Loud or low, the virtue is in both cases always in refinement, never in loudness. It must, remember, be one or the other, but there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one. If it be right and profitable, though incomplete, do not therefore think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 3008.0, "words": 389, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Hair dresser, a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his head work with his hands. Hammer, a small, busy implement, carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship, also a popular contrivance whereby love making may be suspended, but not stopped during the picnic season. Hand. A much desired possession. supplied by the damsel, or the dealer, glad hand, the beggar's plea, the politician's sceptre, and the drummer's ablest assistant. Handmaiden. A manicure. Hurangue. The tiresome product of a tireless tongue, Angor, pain, painful to hear, hence, full of strains. Hash, Hatch, to develop eggs. Hatchway. Place for developing eggs, a hen coop. Hay fever. A heart treble caused by falling in love with a grass widow. Hearsay, heard on the dead, hearse, a handsome vehicle, in which the man who has always been a tail ender, is finally permitted to lead the procession. Heart, a bloody organ, kept in a trunk, played by beats, and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. Heave. To raise. Heaven, a good place to be raised to. Hedge, offence. Hedgehog. One who hogs the fences, a bill poster. Hell. Poverty. Heredity. The cause of all our faults. Once held by Hobson and Dewey, now carried by Mother Eddy and Brother Dowie. Hip. A popular location for the retail liquor business. History. The evil that men do. Hit. A chance for first place, first base, or first blood. In Germany, they generally Hock the Kaiser. The Scottish National Hymn. Hop to skip. Hope. A desire for better things to come, that makes a grass widow willing to try it again. Hornet, still sharper. Horse sense. A degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races. Hose. Man's excuse for wetting the walk. Hosiery, a woman's excuse for walking in the wet. Hotel, a place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters. House cleaning. A domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs. Hug. A roundabout way of expressing affection. Humor. An outbreak, either of skin or brains, frequently branded as rash, hunger. Ability to eat in a night lunch cart. Husband. The next thing to a wife, hussy, woman, and bond, tie, tied to a woman." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 5651.8, "words": 389, "errors": 11, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Hair dresser, a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his head work with his hands. Hammer. A small, busy implement, carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship, also a popular contrivance, whereby love making may be suspended, but not stopped during the picnic season. Hand, a much desired possession supplied by the damsel, or the dealer, glad hand, the beggar's plea, the politician scepter, and the drummer's ablest assistant. Handmaiden. A manicure. Hurangue. The tiresome product of a tireless tongue, Angor, pain. Painful to hear. Hence, full of strains. Hash, hatch, to develop eggs, hatchway, place for developing eggs, a hen coop. Hey fever, a heart treble caused by falling in love with a grass widow, hearsay, heard on the dead. Hearse, a handsome vehicle in which the man who has always been a tail ender is finally permitted to lead the procession. Heart, a bloody organ, kept in a trunk, played by beats, and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. Heave, to raise, heaven, a good place to be raised to, hedge, offense. Hedgehog. One who hogs the fences, a bill poster. Hell. Poverty. Heredity. The cause of all our faults. Once held by Hobson and Dewey, now carried by Mother Eddy and Brother Dowie. Hip, a popular location for the retail liquor business. History, the evil that men do. Hit! A chance for first place, first base, or first blood. In Germany, they generally hock the Kaiser. The Scottish National Hymn, Hop, to skip. Hope. A desire for better things to come that makes a grass widow willing to try it again. Hornet, still sharper, horse sense, a degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races. Hose man's excuse for wetting the walk, hosiery, a woman's excuse for walking in the wet. Hotel? A place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters. House cleaning. A domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs. Hug, a roundabout way of expressing affection, humor, an outbreak, either of skin or brains frequently branded as rash. Hunger, ability to eat in a night lunch cart. The next thing to a wife, hussy, woman, and bond, tie, tied to a woman." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 4642.6, "words": 410, "errors": 24, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Those pretty wrongs that Liberty commits. When I am some time absent from thy heart, Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be one. Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed, And when a woman woos, what woman's son Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? Ay, me. But yet thou might'st my seat forbear, And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth, Who lead thee in their riot, even there, Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth, Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, Thine by thy beauty being false to me. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye, thou dost love her, because thou knowest I love her, and for my sake, even so doth she abuse me, suffering my friend, for my sake, to approve her. Then thou, whose shadow, shadows, doth make bright, How would thy shadows form, form happy show, To the clear day with thy much clearer light, When, to unseeing eyes, thy shade shines so? All days are nights to see, till I see thee, And night's bright days, when dreams do show thee me. No matter, then, although my foot did stand, Upon the farthest earth, removed from thee, For nimble thought can jump, both sea and land, As soon as think the place where he would be, But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that so much of earth and water wrought. I must attend Time's leisure with my moan. Receiving not, by elements so slow, But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. My heart doth plead, that thou in him dost lie. A closet never pierced with crystal eyes. But the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies, But thou, to whom my jewels' trifles are. Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, Thou best of dearest, and mine only care, Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. Thee have I not locked up in any chest, save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, within the gentle closure of my breast, From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part. And even thence thou wilt be stolen, I fear. For truth proves thievish, for a prize so dear." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 5297.9, "words": 410, "errors": 24, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Those pretty wrongs that Liberty commits. When I am some time absent from thy heart, Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won. Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed. And when a woman woos, What woman's son will sourly leave her till he have prevailed. Ay, me, but yet thou might'st my seat forbear, And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth. Who lead thee in their riot, even there, where thou art forced to break a twofold truth. Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee, Thine, by thy beauty, being false to me. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye, thou dost love her, because thou knowest I love her, and for my sake, even so doth she abuse me, suffering my friend, for my sake to approve her. Then thou, whose shadow, shadows, doth make bright, How would thy shadows form, form happy show? To the clear day, with thy much clearer light, When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so, All days are nights to see, till I see thee, And night's bright days, when dreams do show thee me. No matter, then, although my foot did stand, Upon the farthest earth, removed from thee, For nimble thought can jump, both sea and land, As soon as think, the place where he would be, but ah. Thought kills me that I am not thought. To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that so much of earth and water wrought. I must attend time's leisure with my moan, Receiving not, by elements so slow, but heavy tears. Badges of either's woe. My heart doth plead that thou in him doth lie, A closet never pierced with crystal eyes, But the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies. But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, most worthy comfort, Now my greatest grief, thou best of dearest, and mine only care. Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. Thee have I not locked up in any chest, Save where thou art not. Though I feel thou art, within the gentle closure of my breast, From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part. And even thence thou wilt be stolen, I fear, for truth proves thievish, for a prize so dear." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 5847.5, "words": 658, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition, in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion, an appearance, of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother, and waking her up in the terror of it, waking her not to dissipate his dread, and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also. herself, before she had succeeded in doing so, the same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas, not immediately, but later in the evening, a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention, some one else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited, in fact, till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered, he brought out what was in his mind. I quite agree, in regard to Griffin's ghost, or whatever it was, that its appearing first to the little boy, at so tender an age, adds a particular touch. But it's not the first occurrence of its charming kind that I know to have involved a child. We say, of course, somebody exclaimed, that they give two turns. Also that we want to hear about them. I can see Douglas there before the fire. To which he had got up to present his back. Looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets. Nobody but me, till now, has ever heard. It's quite too horrible. This, naturally, was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price, and our friend, with quiet art, prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us in going on. It's beyond everything, nothing at all that I know touches it, for sheer terror. I remember asking. He seemed to say it was not so simple as that. To be really at a loss how to qualify it. He passed his hand over his eyes, made a little wincing grimace for dreadful dreadfulness. Oh, how delicious, cried one of the women. He took no notice of her. He looked at me, but as if, instead of me, he saw what he spoke of, for general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain. Well, then, I said, just sit right down and begin. He turned round to the fire, gave a kick to a log, watched it an instant. Then, as he faced us again, I can't begin. I shall have to send to town. There was a unanimous groan at this, and much reproach. After which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, \"The story's written. I could write to my man and enclose the key. He could send down the packet as he finds it. It was to me, in particular, that he appeared to propound this. Appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate. He had broken a thickness of ice. The formation of many a winter, had had his reasons for a long silence, the others resented postponement, but it was just his scruples that charmed me. To this his answer was prompt. Oh, thank God, no. And is the record yours? You took the thing down? Nothing but the impression. I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript is in old, faded ink, and in the most beautiful hand. He hung fire again. A woman's. She has been dead these twenty years. She sent me the pages in question before she died. They were all listening now, and, of course, there was somebody to be arch, or, at any rate, to draw the inference, but if he put the inference by without a smile. It was also without irritation. She was a most charming person, but she was ten years older than I. She was my sister's governess, he quietly said." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 7834.8, "words": 658, "errors": 0, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition, in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion, an appearance, of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother. And waking her up in the terror of it, waking her not to dissipate his dread, and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also herself, before she had succeeded in doing so. The same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas, not immediately, but later in the evening, a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention. Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited, in fact, till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered. He brought out what was in his mind. I quite agree, in regard to Griffin's ghost, or whatever it was, that its appearing first to the little boy, at so tender an age, adds a particular touch, but it's not the first occurrence of its charming kind that I know to have involved a child. We say, of course, somebody exclaimed, that they give two turns. Also that we want to hear about them. I can see Douglas there before the fire. To which he had got up to present his back, looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets, nobody but me till now has ever heard. It's quite too horrible. This, naturally, was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price, and our friend, with quiet art, prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us and going on. It's beyond everything, nothing at all that I know touches it. For sheer terror, I remember asking. He seemed to say it was not so simple as that. To be really at a loss how to qualify it. He passed his hand over his eyes. Made a little wincing grimace for dreadful dreadfulness. Oh, how delicious, cried one of the women. He took no notice of her. He looked at me, but as if... Instead of me, he saw what he spoke of, for general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain. Well, then, I said, just sit right down and begin. He turned round to the fire. Gave a kick to a log. Watched it an instant, then as he faced us again. I can't begin. I shall have to send to town. There was a unanimous groan at this, and much reproach. After which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, \"The story's written, I could write to my man and enclose the key, he could send down the packet as he finds it.\" It was to me in particular that he appeared to propound this, appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate. He had broken a thickness of ice. The formation of many a winter had had his reasons for a long silence. The others resented postponement, but it was just his scruples that charmed me. To this his answer was prompt. Oh, thank God, no. And is the record yours? You took the thing down? Nothing but the impression. I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript is in old, faded ink? And in the most beautiful hand, he hung fire again, a woman's. She has been dead these twenty years. She sent me the pages in question before she died. They were all listening now, and, of course, there was somebody to be arch, or, at any rate, to draw the inference, but if he put the inference by without a smile, it was also without irritation, she was a most charming person, but she was ten years older than I. She was my sister's governess, he quietly said." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 8129.5, "words": 633, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "We have as yet hardly spoken of the infant that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of providence, a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion, how strange it seemed to the sad woman as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day, more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child, her pearl, for so had Tester called her, not as a name, of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white, unimpassioned luster, that would be indicated by the comparison, but she named the infant Pearl, as being of great price, purchased with all she had, her mother's only treasure. How strange, indeed, man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful, like herself. God, as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished, had given her a lovely child, whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent for ever with the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven. Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension. She knew that her deed had been evil. She could have no faith, therefore, that its result would be good. Day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature, ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being. Certainly, there was no physical defect, by its perfect shape, its vigor, and its natural dexterity, and the use of all its untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden, worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out. The child had a native grace which does not invariably co exist with faultless beauty. Its attire, however simple, always impressed the beholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best. But little Pearl was not clad in rustic weeds. Her mother, with a morbid purpose, that may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured, and allowed her imaginative faculty, its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses, which the child wore before the public eye. So magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed, and such was the splendor of Pearl's own proper beauty, shining through the gorgeous robes, which might have extinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cottage floor, and yet a russet gown, torn and soiled, with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect. Pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety. In this one child, there were many children, comprehending the full scope between the wild flower prettiness of a peasant baby, and the pomp, in little, of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue which she never lost, and if, in any of her changes, she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself, it would have been no longer pearl. This outward mutability indicated, and did not more than fairly express the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well as variety, but, or else Hester's fears deceived her, it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 10423.4, "words": 633, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "We have as yet hardly spoken of the infant that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of providence, a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion. How strange it seemed to the sad woman as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day, more brilliant and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child. Her pearl for so had Tester called her not as a name expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white unimpassioned luster that would be indicated by the comparison. But she named the infant pearl as being of great price purchased with all she had her mother's only treasure how strange indeed man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her. Save it were sinful like herself, god as a direct consequence of the sin, which man thus punished, had given her a lovely child whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent for ever with the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven. Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension she knew that her deed had been evil. She could have no faith, therefore, that its result would be good day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature. Ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being certainly there was no physical defect by its perfect shape, its vigor and its natural dexterity in the use of all its untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden. Worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out, the child had a native grace, which does not invariably co exist with faultless beauty. Its attire, however, simple, always impressed the beholder, as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best, but little pearl was not clad in rustic weeds, her mother with a morbid purpose. That may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured and allowed her imaginative faculty, its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses which the child wore before the public eye. So magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed, and such was the splendor of pearl's own proper beauty shining through the gorgeous robes, which might have extinguished a paler loveliness that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her on the darksome cottage floor. And yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety. In this one child, there were many children, comprehending the full scope between the wild flower prettiness of a peasant baby, and the pomp in little of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue, which she never lost, and if in any of her changes, she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself, it would have been no longer pearl. This outward mutability indicated, and did not more than fairly express the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth too, as well as variety. But or else Hester's fears deceived her, it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 6694.2, "words": 604, "errors": 3, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Hester Prynne went one day to the mansion of governor Bellingham, with a pair of gloves, which she had fringed and embroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state, for though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank. He still held an honorable and influential place among the colonial magistracy. Another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled Hester, at this time, to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement. It had reached her ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants, cherishing the more rigid order of principles, in religion and government, to deprive her of her child. On the supposition that Pearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin, these good people not unreasonably argued that a Christian interest in the mother's soul required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path. Among those who promoted the design, Governor Bellingham was said to be one of the most busy. It may appear singular, and, indeed, not a little ludicrous, that an affair of this kind, which, in later days, would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the selectmen of the town. should then have been a question publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminence took sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however, matters of even slighter public interest, and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of Hester and her child, were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state. The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig, not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. Little Pearl, of course, was her companion. Often, nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity, she demanded to be taken up in arms, but was soon as imperious to be let down again, and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway, with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty, a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints, a bright complexion, eyes possessing intensity, both of depth and glow, and hair already of a deep, glossy brown, and which, in after years, would be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her and throughout her, she seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in contriving the child's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination their full play, arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic, of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread. But it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and, indeed, of the child's whole appearance, that it irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which Hester Prynne was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It was the scarlet letter in another form, the scarlet letter endowed with life. The mother herself, as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form, had carefully wrought out the similitude. lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 9321.7, "words": 604, "errors": 3, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Hester Prynne went one day to the mansion of governor Bellingham with a pair of gloves which she had fringed and embroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state. For though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank, he still held an honorable and influential place among the colonial magistracy. Another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves, impelled Hester at this time to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement, it had reached her ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants. Cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government to deprive her of her child on the supposition that pearl, as already hinted was of demon origin. These good people, not unreasonably argued that a Christian interest in the mother soul. Required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path among those who promoted the design. governor. Bellingham was said to be one of the most busy. It may appear singular, and indeed, not a little ludicrous that an affair of this kind, which in later days would have been referred to. No higher jurisdiction than that of the select men of the town should then have been a question publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminence took sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however, matters of even slighter public interest, and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of Hester and her child were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state. The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig, not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. Little pearl, of course, was her companion often, nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity. She demanded to be taken up in arms, but was soon as imperious to be let down again and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty, a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints, a bright complexion, eyes possessing intensity, both of depth and glow and hair already of a deep glossy brown, and which, in after years, would be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her, and throughout her, she seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment her mother, in contriving the child's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination, their full play, arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut. Abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread, but it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and indeed of the child's whole appearance that irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which Hester Prynne was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It was the scarlet letter in another form, the scarlet letter endowed with life. The mother herself, as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form had carefully wrought out the similitude. Lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 6567.4, "words": 708, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Just at dawn next morning, UNC nunkie laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist, and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown at a flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the munchkin country of the Land of Oz, so Unc' nunkie's dress was much like that of his nephew. Instead of shoes. The old man wore boots with turnover tops, and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid. The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread. and supposed the old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry, though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table, and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh cool water from the brook. Unc put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said, as he walked out through the doorway, \"Come.\" Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods, and wanted to travel and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful Land of Oz, in which they lived. When they were outside, Ung simply latched the door and started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone came so far into the thick forest while they were gone. At the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the munchkins from the country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left and the other to the right, straight up the mountain. UNC Nunkie took this right hand path, and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician, whom he had never seen, but who was their nearest neighbor. All the morning they trudged up the mountain path, and at noon Unc and Ojo sat on a fallen tree trunk, and ate the last of the bread which the old Munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again, and two hours later came in sight of the house of Dr. Pipt. There was a pretty garden around the house where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower beds, and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest, which completely surrounded it. Unc knocked at the door of the house, and a chubby, pleasant faced woman dressed all in blue, opened it. and greeted the visitors with a smile. I am my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home. He's very busy just now, she said, shaking her head doubtfully, but come in and let me give you something to eat, for you must have traveled far in order to get to our lonely place. We have. replied Ojo, as he and Unc entered the house. We have come from a far lonelier place than this. A lonelier place, and in the Munchkin country, she exclaimed, than it must be somewhere in the Blue Forest. It is good day, Margolotte. \"Dear me,\" she said, looking at the man. You must be Unc Nunkie, known as the Silent One. Then she looked at the boy. And you must be Ojo the Unlucky, she added. \"Yes,\" said Unk. \"I never knew I was called the unlucky,\" said Ojo soberly, \"but it is really a good name for me.\" I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind, and perhaps the chance will come to you, she replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 7380.9, "words": 708, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Just at dawn next morning, UNC nunkie laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist, and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown and a flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the munchkin country of the land of oz, so UNC nunkie's dress was much like that of his nephew. Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops, and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid. The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread and supposed the old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry, though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh cool water from the brook. Unc, put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket after which he again said as he walked out through the doorway come. Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods, and wanted to travel and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful Land of Oz, in which they lived. When they were outside. Ung simply latched the door and started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if any one came so far into the thick forest while they were gone at the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the munchkins from the country of the Gillikins. The path divided one way led to the left, and the other to the right straight up the mountain. Unc Nunkie took this right hand path, and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician, whom he had never seen, but who was their nearest neighbor. All the morning they trudged up the mountain path, and at noon, UNC and Ojo sat on a fallen tree trunk and ate the last of the bread which the old munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again, and two hours later came in sight of the house of doctor Pipt. There was a pretty garden around the house where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower beds, and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest, which completely surrounded it. UNC knocked at the door of the house and a chubby, pleasant faced woman dressed all in blue, opened it, and greeted the visitors with a smile. I am my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home. He's very busy just now, she said, shaking her head doubtfully, but come in and let me give you something to eat, for you must have traveled far in order to get to our lonely place. We have replied Ojo as he and Unc entered the house. We have come from a far lonelier place than this. A lonelier place, and in the Munchkin Country, she exclaimed, then it must be somewhere in the Blue Forest. It is good day, Margolotte. Dear me, she said, looking at the man, you must be Unc nunkie, known as the Silent One. Then she looked at the boy. And you must be Ojo the unlucky, she added. Yes, said Unc. I never knew I was called the unlucky said Ojo soberly, but it is really a good name for me. I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind and perhaps the chance will come to you. She replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 7351.8, "words": 699, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder the patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolotte had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt, and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt, and an apron with pockets in it, using the same gay material throughout upon the feet, she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed, and stuffed and stitched at the edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve his finger nails. \"She will have to work when she comes to life,\" said Margolotte. The head of the Patchwork Girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life, the woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender buttons caught from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolotte had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly, but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold, and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal. Gold is the most common metal in the Land of Oz, and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. The woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth, and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue. This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, and Margolotte was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful. For one cheek was yellow, and the other red, her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the center, where her nose had been formed and padded, a bright yellow. You ought to have had her face all pink, suggested the boy. I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth, replied the woman. Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful rather than ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patched face, I can whitewash it. Has she any brains? asked Ojo. No, I forgot all about the brains, exclaimed the woman. I'm glad you reminded me of them, for it is not too late to supply them, by any means, until she is brought to life. I can do anything I please with this girl, but I must be careful not to give her too much brains, and though she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good. \"Wrong,\" said Unc Nunkie. \"No, I'm sure I am right about that,\" returned the woman. Well, that may be true, agreed Margolotte, but on the contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high and mighty, and feel above her work. I want her to know just enough, but not too much. With this, she went to another cupboard, which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly labeled by the magician to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked brain furniture, and the bottles on this shelf were labeled as follows. Obedience, cleverness, judgment, courage, ingenuity, amiability, learning, truth, poesy, self reliance. Let me see, said Margolotte, of those qualities, she must have obedience first of all, and she took down the bottle bearing that label and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 9574.1, "words": 699, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder the patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolotte had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt, and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets in it, using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet, she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes, with pointed toes, all the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed and stuffed and stitched at the edges with gold plates at the ends to serve his finger nails. She will have to work when she comes to life, said margolotte. The head of the patchwork girl was the most curious part of her while she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life. The woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender buttons caught from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolotte had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly, but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal. Gold is the most common metal in the land of oz and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. The woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue. This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, and margolotte was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful for one cheek was yellow, and the other red. Her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the center, where her nose had been formed and padded a bright yellow. You ought to have had her face all pink, suggested the boy. I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth, replied the woman still, I cannot see as it matters much for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful rather than ornamental. If I get tired, looking at her patched face. I can whitewash it. Has she any brains asked? Ojo. No, I forgot all about the brains exclaimed the woman. I'm glad you reminded me of them for it is not too late to supply them by any means until she is brought to life. I can do anything I please with this girl. But I must be careful not to give her too much brains, and though she has must be such as are fitted to the station, she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good wrong said UNC nunkie. No, I'm sure I am right about that. Returned the woman. Well, that may be true, agreed Margolotte, but on the contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high and mighty, and feel above her work. I want her to know just enough, but not too much. With this. She went to another cupboard, which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly labeled by the magician to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked brain furniture, and the bottles on this shelf were labeled as follows, obedience, cleverness, judgment, courage, ingenuity, amiability. Learning, truth, poesy, self reliance, let me see, said margolotte of those qualities, she must have obedience first of all, and she took down the bottle, bearing that label and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 10325.5, "words": 594, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty of the civil magistrate. The edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration, had confirmed to each individual of the Roman world, the privilege of choosing and professing, his own religion, but this inestimable privilege was soon violated, with the knowledge of truth, the emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution, and the sects which dissented from the Catholic Church, were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily believed that the heretics, who presumed to dispute his opinions, or to oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy, and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation. Not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the orthodox clergy. Some of the penal regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felled the hand of oppression and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry, before he condemned the Manicheans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles. The advantage which Sicilian might claim from the priority of his ordination, was destroyed by the illegal, or at least indecent haste, with which it had been performed, without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia. From their mutual reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the African Christians. That divided church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature. The controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by the emperor. And the whole proceeding, from the first appeal to the final sentence lasted above three years. The honors and estates of the Church were attributed to his suffragan bishops, and it was not without difficulty that Constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the donatist faction. As their cause was examined with justice, perhaps it was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without foundation, that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favorite osius. They asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation, that the apostolical succession was interrupted, that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism, and that the prerogatives of the Catholic Church were confined to the chosen portion of the African believers, who alone had preserved inviolate. The integrity of their faith and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct. Bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants, were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance, before they could be admitted to the communion of the donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 11623.0, "words": 594, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty. Of the civil magistrate, the edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration had confirmed to each individual of the Roman world, the privilege of choosing and professing, his own religion. But this inestimable privilege was soon violated with the knowledge of truth. The emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution, and the sects which dissented from the catholic church were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily believed that the heretics who presumed to dispute his opinions or to oppose his commands were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy. And that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation, not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities. Which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the orthodox clergy, some of the penal regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felled the hand of oppression. And pleaded for the rights of humanity, two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry Before he condemned the manicheans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of the religious principles, the advantage which Sicilian might claim from the priority of his ordination, was destroyed by the illegal or at least indecent haste. With which it had been performed without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia from their mutual reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the African Christians. That divided church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature. The controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by the emperor, and the whole proceeding from the first appeal to the final sentence lasted above three years. The honors and estates of the church were attributed to a suffragan bishops, and it was not without difficulty that Constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the donatist faction as their cause was examined with attention. Perhaps it was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without foundation that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favorite osius. They asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation that the apostolical succession was interrupted that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism. And that the prerogatives of the catholic church were confined to the chosen portion of the African believers who alone had preserved inviolate the integrity of their faith and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct, bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance before they could be admitted to the communion of the donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 7498.8, "words": 668, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the States than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none, but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth, with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours, the travelers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star, or following the direction of some water course, until the scout called a halt, and, holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire, and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example, and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Monroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest when the travelers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles. The progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences Heyward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the young chief, and demand his opinion of their progress, but the calm and dignified demeanor of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north, he said, it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys, and keep between the waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers, yet here are we, within a short range of the scaroons, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed. \"Heaven protect us from such an error,\" exclaimed Duncan. Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait? The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement, and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. 'Tis the trail, exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot. The lad is quick of sight, and keen of wit for his years. 'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long. muttered Duncan at his elbow." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 7773.7, "words": 668, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the States than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none, but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth, with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours, the travelers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star, or following the direction of some water course, until the scout called a halt, and holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire, and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example, and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Monroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness, the dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forests when the travelers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity. The velocity and the color of its waters, distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences Hayward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the young chief, and demand his opinion of their progress, but the calm and dignified demeanor of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last, the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north, he said. It did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys and keep between the waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers, yet here are we, within a short range of the scaroons. And not a sign of a trail have we crossed. Heaven protect us from such an error, exclaimed Duncan. Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait? The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy bounding forward like a deer. He sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth. That looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal, the eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement, and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. TIS the trail, exclaimed the scout advancing to the spot. The lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years. 'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long, muttered Duncan, at his elbow." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 7870.2, "words": 712, "errors": 6, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But let me play the lion too, Midsummer night's dream, notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye. He fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur in his return to the camp. His acute and practiced intellects were intently, engaged in devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own nothing, but the color of his skin had saved the lives of Magua, and the conjuror who would have been the first victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout believed such an act, however, congenial it to the nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a dissent from men that knew no cross of blood. A neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed, most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites, such as wood or water. A faint light glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without a tenant. Thither, then, the scout proceeded, like a prudent general, who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack. Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the abiding place of David Gamut. Hither the faithful singing master had now brought himself, together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the protection of providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in the manner just mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections. However, implicit the faith of David was in the performance of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality. In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the subject of a bear's singing, and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout, the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire, with his head, leaning on his arm, in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately described, except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors. The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation. First, making the circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door into the very presence of gamut. The position of the latter brought the fire between them, and when Hawkeye had seated himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking. The suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for, we will not say the philosophy, but for the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch pipe, and arose with a confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism. The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well known voice replied, five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth just now an hour of squalling. What art thou demanded David, utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for breath, a man like yourself, and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as your own." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 11323.6, "words": 712, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But let me play the lion too, Midsummer night's dream, notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye. He fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur. In his return to the camp, his acute and practiced intellects were intently engaged in devising means to counteract, a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own. Nothing but the color of his skin had saved the lives of Magua and the conjuror, who would have been the first victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a dissent from men that knew no cross of blood. A neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed, most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites such as wood or water. A faint light glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without a tenant. Thither, then, the scout proceeded, like a prudent general who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack. Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast, he represented Hawkeye, crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the abiding place of David gamut. Hither, the faithful singing master had now brought himself together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions and his meek dependence on the protection of providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout in the manner, just mentioned. The woodsman himself, though in his assumed character was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections, however, implicit the faith of David was in the performance of ancient miracles he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality. In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the subject of a bear singing, and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout, the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire with his head, leaning on his arm in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately described, except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors. The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation. First, making the circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door into the very presence of gamut, the position of the latter brought the fire between them. And when Hawkeye had seated himself on end near a minute elapsed during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking, the suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for we will not say the philosophy, but for the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch pipe and arose with a confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism. The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well known voice replied five words of plain and comprehendible. English are worth just now an hour of squalling. What art thou demanded David, utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for breath, a man like yourself, and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as your own?" }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 7146.5, "words": 777, "errors": 15, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive so painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion, the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavor in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place or give a clue as to the people concerned. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss what to do. I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police. No, no, my dear sir, such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked, it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can. My friend's temper had not improved, since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrap books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words, and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story. I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to morrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue scholarship. I am one of the examiners. For this reason, great care is taken to keep the paper secret. To day, about three o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrive from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At 4.30 my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather more than an hour. As I approached my outer door, I was amazed to see a key in it. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences. The moment I looked at my table, I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it. Holmes stirred for the first time. The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it, said he. \"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, you amaze me. How could you possibly know that? Pray, continue your very interesting statement. For an instant. I imagine that Banister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 7468.6, "words": 777, "errors": 17, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive so painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion, the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavor, in my statement, to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned. Here it was, that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion, he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. I trust, mister Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town. I should have been at a loss what to do. I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police. No, no, my dear sir, such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked, it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college. It is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, mister Holmes to do what you can. My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of baker street. Without his scrap books, his chemicals and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man, he shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence while our visitor in hurried words, and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story. I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to morrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue scholarship. I am one of the examiners. For this reason, great care is taken to keep the paper secret. To day, about 3 o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrive from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At 4.30 my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather more than an hour as I approached my outer door. I was amazed to see a key in it. The only duplicate which existed so far as I knew was that which belonged to my servant banister, a man who has looked after my room for 10 years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day, it has produced the most deplorable consequences. The moment I looked at my table. I was aware that some one had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor. One was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it Holmes stirred for the first time. The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it. Said he exactly mister Holmes, you amaze me how could you possibly know that pray continue your very interesting statement? For an instant? I imagine that banister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 6886.3, "words": 738, "errors": 13, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Your three birds are all in their nests, said Holmes, looking up. Halloa what's that? One of them seems restless enough. It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. I should like to have a peep at each of them said Holmes. Is it possible? No difficulty in the world. Soames answered. The set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them come along, and I will personally conduct you no names, please said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door, a tall, flaxen haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his note book, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian, a silent, little hook nosed fellow, who eyed us askance, and was obviously glad when Holmes' architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. I don't care who you are. You can go to blazes, whirred the angry voice, a rude fellow, said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course, he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but none the less, his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed, under the circumstances rather suspicious. Can you tell me his exact height he asked really mister Holmes. I cannot undertake to say, he is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose 5 foot six would be about it. That is very important, said Holmes, and now mister solmes. I wish you good night. You don't seem to realize the position. To morrow is the examination. I must take some definite action to night. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced. You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to morrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position, then, to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile, you change nothing, nothing at all. Very good, mister Holmes. You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me. Also the pencil cuttings. When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible. The foul mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart. He looked at us in a queer way. So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that pencils, too, and knives, all was satisfactory, but that fellow does puzzle me who why banister the servant. What's his game in the matter? He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man. Why should a perfectly honest man? Well, well, here's a large stationer's. We shall begin our researches here. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half humorous resignation. No good, my dear Watson. This the best and only final clue has run to nothing. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals. I expect that you will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall, not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant and the three enterprising students. Holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 8625.5, "words": 738, "errors": 14, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Your three birds are all in their nests, said Holmes, looking up. Halloa what's that? One of them seems restless enough. It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. I should like to have a peep at each of them, said Holmes. Is it possible no difficulty in the world? Soames answered. The set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them come along, and I will personally conduct you. No names, please said Holmes as we knocked at Gilchrist door. A tall, flaxen haired, slim young fellow opened it and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his note book, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian, a silent little hook, nosed fellow who eyed us askance, and was obviously glad when Holmes architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case, Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. I don't care who you are. You can go to blazes whirred the angry voice. A rude fellow said, our guide flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course, he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but none the less, his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed, under the circumstances rather suspicious. Can you tell me his exact height? He asked really mister Holmes. I cannot undertake to say he is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose 5 foot six would be about it. That is very important said Holmes, and now mister solmes. I wish you good night. You don't seem to realize the position to morrow is the examination. I must take some definite action to night. I cannot allow the examination to be held. If one of the papers has been tampered with the situation must be faced. You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to morrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile, you change nothing. Nothing at all very good mister Holmes. You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me. Also the pencil cuttings. Goodbye when we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle. We again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible, the foul mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. There is nothing in that many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart. He looked at us in a queer way. So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives, all was satisfactory. But that fellow does puzzle me. Who? Why banister the servant? What's his game in the matter he impressed me as being a perfectly honest man why should a perfectly honest man? Well well here's a large stationer's We shall begin our researches here. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half humorous resignation. No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue has run to nothing. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get nose to quit, and that I shall share your downfall, not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three enterprising students. Holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 9604.9, "words": 645, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching Negroes, not that she objected to Negroes as human beings, quite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies her defense of the Fifteenth Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning, but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came, and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith's experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed. Her dream had been a post graduate course at Bryn Mawr, but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a Western college. The South she had not thought of, seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton belt. Better go, he had counseled sententiously, might learn something useful down there. She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook, and had protested against his blunt insistence. But, John, there's no society, just elementary work. John had met this objection with \"Humph,\" as he left for his office. Next day he had returned to the subject, been looking up Tombs County. Find some Cresswells there. Big plantations, rated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, some others, too, big Cotton County. You ought to know, John. If I teach negroes, I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. Nonsense. But in, show off. Give 'em your Greek, and study cotton. At any rate, I say go. And so, howsoever reluctantly, she had gone. The trial was all she had anticipated, and possibly a bit more. She was a pretty young woman of twenty three, fair, and rather daintily molded. Here she was teaching dirty children, and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was, to her, at times, unbearable. Then there was the fact of their color. It was a fact so insistent, so fatal, she almost said at times that she could not escape it. Theoretically, she had always treated it with disdainful ease. What's the mere color of a human soul's skin? She had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here, in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark skinned children, their color struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself lest they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in color. She groped for new ways to teach colored brains and martial colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student. With the other teachers she had little commerce. She appealed to Miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly as some memory of the past. The other teachers were indistinct personalities, always very busy and very tired, and talking schoolroom with their meals. Miss Taylor was soon starving for human companionship, for the lighter touches of life, and some of its warmth and laughter. She wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals, and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in, and mentally anemic. Great as the negro problem might be as a world problem, it looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 19197.5, "words": 645, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching Negroes, not that she objected to Negroes as human beings, quite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies her defense of the Fifteenth Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning, but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came, and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith's experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed. Her dream had been a postgraduate course at Bryn Mawr, but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or 2 of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston or even in a western college. The south, she had not thought of seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate. She was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton belt. \"Better go,\" he had counseled, sententiously, might learn something useful down there. She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook, and had protested against his blunt insistence. But, John, there's no society, just elementary work. John had met this objection with, um, as he left for his office. Next day he had returned to the subject, been looking up Toombs County. Find some Cresswells there. Big plantations, rated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Some others too, big Cotton County. You ought to know, John. If I teach Negroes, I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. Nonsense! But in, show off. Give em your Greek, and study cotton. At any rate, I say go. And so, howsoever reluctantly, she had gone. The trial was all she had anticipated, and possibly a bit more. She was a pretty young woman of twenty three, fair and rather daintily molded. Here she was teaching dirty children, and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was, to her, at times unbearable. Then there was the fact of their color, it was a fact so insistent, so fatal, she almost said at times, that she could not escape it. Theoretically, she had always treated it with disdainful ease. What's the mere color of a human soul's skin? She had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here, in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark skinned children. Their color struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself, lest they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in color. She groped for new ways to teach colored brains and martial colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student with the other teachers. She had little commerce. She appealed to miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly as some memory of the past. The other teachers were indistinct personalities, always very busy and very tired, and talking schoolroom with their meals. Miss Taylor was soon starving for human companionship, for the lighter touches of life and some of its warmth and laughter. She wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals, and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in and mentally anemic, great as the Negro problem might be as a world problem. It looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 14847.3, "words": 674, "errors": 35, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Hon. Charles Smith, Miss Sarah's brother, was walking swiftly uptown from Mr. Easterly's Wall Street office, and his face was pale. At last the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact, and he was slated for the Senate. The price he had paid was high. He was to represent the interests of the new trust and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the combines legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would effect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law, providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary, the last constituating a particularly clever artifice, which, under the guise of convenience in handling, would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compress mach to be supplied, of course, by the trust. As Mr. Smith drew near Mrs. Gray's Murray Hill residence his face had melted to a cynical smile. After all, why should he care? He had tried independence and philanthropy, and failed. Why should he not be as other men? He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything. They were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Cresswell. Did his aristocratic heir prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions in promising the influence of his father and the whole Farmers' League to the new project? Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscoting glowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. There was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without. It made both the fire, and the table with its soft linen, gold and silver plate, and twinkling glasses, a warming, satisfying sight. Mrs. Gray was a portly woman, inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes, both of which were always rich and costly. She was not herself a notably intelligent woman, she greatly admired intelligence, or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others. Her money, too, was to her an ever worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly, and spend philanthropically, a difficult combination. As she awaited her guest, she surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few. To night there were, she checked them off on her fingers. Sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer and lady Crichton, Mr. and missus Vanderpool, Mr. Harry Cresswell, and his sister, John Taylor, and his sister, and Mr. Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United States Senator from New Jersey, a selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day. Mrs. Gray's chef was high priced and efficient, and her butler was the envy of many. Consequently, she knew the dinner would be good. To her intense satisfaction, it was far more than this. It was a most agreeable couple of hours, all save perhaps Mr. Smith, unbent, the Englishmen especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious, but if the general pleasure was owing to any one person, particularly, it was to Mr. Harry Cresswell. Mrs. Gray had met Southerners before, but not intimately, and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor Negroes, a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was therefore most agreeably surprised to hear Mr. Cresswell express himself so cordially as approving of negro education. Really, now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of of amalgamation, do you? he sang. Mr. Cresswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station, filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, it meant terrible danger to Southern white women. Do you believe in some education? asked Mary Taylor." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 12859.0, "words": 674, "errors": 25, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Hon. Charles Smith, Miss Sarah's brother, was walking swiftly uptown from Mr. Easterly's Wall Street office, and his face was pale. At last the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact, and he was slated for the Senate. The price he had paid was high. He was to represent the interests of the new trust and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the combine's legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would effect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary. The last constituating a particularly clever artifice, which, under the guise of convenience in handling, would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compress machinery. To be supplied, of course, by the trust as mister smith drew near missus gray's Murray hill residence, his face had melted to a cynical smile. After all, why should he care? He had tried independence and philanthropy and failed. Why should he not be as other men? He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything they were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Cresswell? Did his aristocratic heir prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions and promising the influence of his father and the whole farmers league to the new project? Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscoting glowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. There was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without, it made both the fire and the table with its soft linen, gold, and silver plate, and twinkling glasses, a warming, satisfying sight. Mrs. Gray was a portly woman, inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes, both of which were always rich and costly. She was not herself a notably intelligent woman. She greatly admired intelligence or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others. Her money, too, was to her an ever worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly, and spin philanthropically a difficult combination as she awaited her guest. She surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few. Tonight there were, she checked them off on her fingers, sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer and lady Crichton, mister, and missus Vanderpool, mister, harry Cresswell, and his sister. John Taylor and his sister and Mr. Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United States Senator from New Jersey, a selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day. Mrs. Gray's chef was high priced and efficient, and her butler was the envy of many, consequently she knew the dinner would be good. To her intense satisfaction, it was far more than this. It was a most agreeable couple of hours. All save, perhaps, Mr. Smith, unbent, the Englishmen, especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious, but if the general pleasure was owing to any one person, particularly, it was to Mr. Harry Cresswell. Mrs. Gray had met Southerners before, but not intimately, and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor Negroes, a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was, therefore, most agreeably surprised to hear, mister Cresswell express himself so cordially as approving of Negro education. Really, now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of of amalgamation, do you? he sang. Mr. Cresswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions. It meant terrible danger to Southern white women. Do you believe in some education asked Mary Taylor?" }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 8586.7, "words": 654, "errors": 14, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He knew the Silver Fleece, his and Zora's, must be ruined. It was the first great sorrow of his life. It was not so much the loss of the cotton itself, but the fantasy, the hopes, the dreams built around it. If it failed, would not they fail? But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zor made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days. He pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless, leaky cabin with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp. It was a fearful place in the rain, its oozing mud and fetid vapors, its clinging slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chill their hearts. Yet here, his Zora, his poor disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she, too, knew or knew and cared not, or cared, and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her, all things meant something. Nothing was aimless, nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him, or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden, at midday, the sun shot out, hot and still, no breath of air stirred, the sky was like blue steel, the earth steamed. Perhaps, if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall, but, pshaw! Where was the use of imagining? The lagoon had been level with the dykes a week ago? And now? He could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled, drowned, and rolling beneath the black lake of slime. He must at least see the grave of his hope in Zorah's, and out of it resurrect new love and strength. Perhaps she, too, might be there, waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The raindrops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees, flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along, farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing, and put foot upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island, a great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy. The squares of cotton, sharp edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath, the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment he paused, stupid, agape, with utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against the tree. The swamp, the eternal swamp, had been drained in its deepest fastness. But how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton. What a marvelous field. But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly stopping near Zora's oak? Here lay the reading of the riddle, with infinite work and pain, someone had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek, into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight, a hundred yards through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora. And with a thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled. Motionless, gray, pallid, beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips are moaning. The earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on. The mud splashed, and sunlight glistened. He saw long snakes slithering across his path, and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 17445.6, "words": 654, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He knew the Silver Fleece, his and Zora's, must be ruined. It was the first great sorrow of his life. It was not so much the loss of the cotton itself, but the fantasy, the hopes, the dreams built around it. If it failed, would not they fail? But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zorb made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days, he pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless, leaky cabin with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp. It was a fearful place in the rain. Its oozing mud and fetid vapors. Its clinging, slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chill their hearts. Yet here, his Zora, his poor, disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she, too, knew, or knew and cared not, or cared, and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her, all things meant something. Nothing was aimless, nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him, or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden, at midday, the sun shot out. Hot and still, no breath of air stirred. The sky was like blue steel. The earth steamed. Perhaps if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall, but. Pshaw! Where was the use of imagining? The lagoon had been level with the dikes a week ago, and now, he could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled, drowned and rolling beneath the black lake of slime, he must at least see the grave of his hope in Zora's, and out of it resurrect new love and strength. Perhaps she, too, might be there waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The rain drops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing, and put... upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island. A great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy. The squares of cotton, sharp edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath, the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment he paused, stupid, agape. With utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against the tree, the swamp, the eternal swamp had been drained in its deepest fastness, but how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton. What a marvelous field. But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly, stopping near Zora's oak. Here lay the reading of the riddle with infinite work and pain. Some one had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight 100 yards through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora! And with a thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled. Motionless, gray, pallid beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips a moaning, the earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on. The mud splashed and sunlight glistened. He saw long snakes slithering across his path, and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 31956.3, "words": 589, "errors": 10, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It is a very fine old place of red brick, softened by a pale powdery lichen, which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity, so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments, surrounding the three gables, the windows and the door place, but the windows are patched with wooden panes and the door. I think is like the gate. It is never opened for it is a solid, heavy, hansom door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair. And now the half weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse, spilled hovel against the left hand wall, come out, and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless supposing that it has reference to buckets of milk, a large open fireplace with rusty dogs in it, and a bare boarded floor. At the far end, fleeces of wool stacked up in the middle of the floor, some empty corn bags. That is the furniture of the dining room. And what through the left hand window, several clothes horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags. At the edge of this box there lies a great wooden doll, which, so far as mutilation is concerned, bears a strong resemblance to the finest Greek sculpture. and especially in the total loss of its nose. Near it. There is a little chair, in the butt end of a boy's leather, long lashed whip. The history of the house is plain now. It was once the residence of a country squire, whose family, probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood got merged in the more territorial name of donnithorne. But there is always a stronger sense of life, when the sun is brilliant after rain, and now he is pouring down his beams, and making sparkles among the wet straw, and lighting up every patch of vivid green moss on the red tiles of the cow shed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain, into a mirror, for the yellow billed ducks, who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink. With as much body in it as possible, for the great barn doors are thrown wide open, and men are busy there, mending the harness, under the superintendence of mister goby, the whidow, otherwise saddler, who entertains them with the latest treddleston gossip, Hetty Sorle often took the opportunity when her aunt's back was turned of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished services. For the oak table was usually turned up like a screen, and was more for ornament than for use, and she could see herself sometimes in the great round pewter dishes that were ranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table or in the hobs of the grate, which always shone like jasper. Do not suppose, however, that missus Poyser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance. She was a good looking woman, not more than eight and 30, a fair complexion and sandy hair, well shapen light footed, the family likeness between her and her niece Dinah morris, with the contrast between her keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression. might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for a Martha and Mary." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 14340.2, "words": 589, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It is a very fine old place of red brick softened by a pale powdery lichen, which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity. So as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three gables, the windows and the door place, but the windows are patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think is like the gate, it is never opened. For it is a solid, heavy, hansom door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair. And now the half weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse, spilled hovel against the left hand wall, come out and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless, supposing. That it has reference to buckets of milk, a large open fireplace with rusty dogs in it, and a bare boarded floor at the far end fleeces of wool stacked up in the middle of the floor, some empty corn bags. That is the furniture of the dining room and what through the left hand window, several clothes, horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags at the edge of this box. There lies a great wooden doll. Which, so far as mutilation is concerned, bears a strong resemblance to the finest Greek sculpture, and especially in the total loss of its nose near it, there's a little chair and the butt end of a boy's leather, long lashed whip. The history of the house is plain now. It was once the residence of a country squire, whose family probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood got merged in the more territorial name of donnithorn, but there is always a stronger sense of life when the sun is brilliant after rain. And now he is pouring down his beams and making sparkles among the wet straw and lighting up every patch of vivid green, moss on the red tiles of the cow shed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain into a mirror. For the yellow billed ducks, who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink with as much body in it as possible, for the great barn doors are thrown wide open. And men are busy there, mending the harness under the superintendence of mister goby, the whidow, otherwise saddler who entertains them with the latest treddleston gossip. Hetty Sorle often took the opportunity when her aunt's back was turned of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished services. For the oak table was usually turned up like a screen, and was more for ornament than for use, and she could see herself sometimes in the great. Round pewter dishes that were ranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table or in the hobs of the grate, which always shone like jasper. Do not suppose, however, that missus Poyser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance. She was a good looking woman not more than eight and 30 a fair complexion and sandy hair. Well, shapen light footed the family likeness between her and her niece Dinah morris with the contrast between her keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for a Martha and Mary." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 9617.6, "words": 591, "errors": 29, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Paris plant like that at the crystal palace was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent supplying before it was torn out no fewer than 3000 lamps in hotels, churches stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn viaducts there Messieurs Johnson and hammer put into practice many of the ideas now standard in the art and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the 1st Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power. It went into service August 15, 1882. About 3 weeks before the Pearl Street station. The dynamo electric machine, though small, was robust, for under all the varying speeds of water power, and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until 1899, 17 years. But his attention was in reality concentrated closely on the supply of great setters of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime, and except in regard to furnishing isolated plants, he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations. That was left to others, and to the application of the alternating current, which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers, and within thoroughly economical limits, transmit thousands of horse power, as much as 200 miles at pressures of 80,000 and 100,000 volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers, Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench? And putting in an insulated cable, and connecting such station with the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth, and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos, conveying low pressure currents to the public. There is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp fundamental distinction between high pressure alternating current for transmission, and low pressure, direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison, from the financial standpoint, if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current. But that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of conviction, and Edison's convictions are granitic, broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them, he is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods. to plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Everything he has done has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture, Burbank, and his tribe representing the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 12052.5, "words": 591, "errors": 33, "deleted": 14, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Paris plant like that at the crystal palace was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent supplying before it was torn out no fewer than 3000 lamps in hotels, churches stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn viaducts. There, Messrs. Johnson and Hammer put into practice many of the ideas now standard in the art, and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the 1st Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power. It went into service August 15, 1882, about 3 weeks before the Pearl Street station. The dynamo electric machine, though small, was robust. For under all the varying speeds of water power and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until 189917 years. But his attention was in reality, concentrated closely on the supply of great setters of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime. And except in regard to furnishing isolated plants, he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations, that was left to others, and to the application of the alternating current, which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers, and. Within thoroughly economical limits, transmit 1000s of horsepower, as much as 200 miles at pressures of 80,100,000 volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers. Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls. It is a great economy to get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench and putting in an insulated cable and connecting such station, wept the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth, and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying low pressure currents to the public, there is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp fundamental distinction between high pressure, alternating current for transmission and low pressure, direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison from the financial standpoint if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current. But that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of conviction, and Edison's convictions are granitic, broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them, he is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods. To plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate, everything he has done, has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture, Burbank, and his tribe representing the vegetable world. Edison in the mechanical." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 12870.5, "words": 694, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed. Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work, increased by her absence, loomed up before her till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning at night when no one knew it. The tears would come racing over the poor, forlorn little face and would not be squeezed back. It got to be noticed finally, and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever the only place except in front of the grand piano, where Polly approached a state of comparative happiness was in the greenhouse. Here she would stay, comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics, rejoicing the heart of old Turner, the gardener, who, since Polly's first rapturous entrance, had taken her into his good graces for all time. Every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers, but even with the music and flowers, the dancing light in the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and spacious rooms with gay and springing step. Polly don't like us at last said van one day in despair, then dear said, missus Whitney, you must be kinder to her than ever think what it would be for one of you to be away from home, even among friends. I'd like it first rate to be away from Percy said fan reflectively. I wouldn't come back in three no six weeks my son. said his mamma, just stop and think how badly you would feel. If you really couldn't see Percy. Well, said van, and he showed signs of relenting a little at that, but Percy is perfectly awful, mamma, you don't know, and he feels so smart too. He said vindictively well said missus Whitney softly. Let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face. I don't know, said van running over in his mind all the possible ways he could think of or entertaining anybody, unless she'd like my new book of travels or my velocipede, he added. I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose, said his mamma, smiling, especially the last yet we must think of something. But just here, mister king thought it about time to take manners into his hands, so, with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by, he had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest, this day it seemed as if she could bear it no longer if she could only see phronsie for just one moment, I shall have to give up, she moaned. I can't bear it and over, went her head on the music rack. Where is she said a voice over in front of the piano in the gathering dusk, unmistakably mister king's. Oh, she's always at the piano said van. She must be there now somewhere, and then somebody laughed, then came in the loudest of whispers from little dick. Oh Jappy. What'll she say? Hush said one of the other boys do be still dick. Polly sat up very straight and whisked off the tears quickly here. Polly hold your arms. He had only strength to gasp at this. The bundle opened suddenly, and out popped phronsie here. I am. I'm here, Polly, but Polly couldn't speak, and if jasper hadn't caught her just in time, she would have tumbled over backward from the stool, phronsie and all. Aren't you glad I've come? Polly asked phronsie with her little face close to Polly's own that brought Polly too." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 7810.4, "words": 694, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed. Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work increased by her absence, loomed up before her till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning. At night, when no one knew it, the tears would come racing over the poor, forlorn little face and would not be squeezed back. It got to be noticed finally, and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever. The only place except in front of the grand piano where Polly approached a state of comparative happiness was in the greenhouse here she would stay, comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics. Rejoicing the heart of old Turner, the gardener, who, since Polly's first rapturous entrance, had taken her into his good graces for all time, every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied, was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers. But even with the music and flowers, the dancing light and the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and spacious rooms with gay and springing step. Polly don't like us at last said van one day in despair, then dear said missus Whitney. You must be kinder to her than ever. Think what it would be for one of you to be away from home, even among friends. I'd like it first rate to be away from Percy said fan reflectively. I wouldn't come back in three. No, six weeks. My son said his mamma just stop and think how badly you would feel if you really couldn't see Percy. Well, said van, and he showed signs of relenting a little at that, but Percy is perfectly awful mamma you don't know, and he feels so smart too. He said vindictively well said missus Whitney softly. Let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face. I don't know, said van, running over in his mind, all the possible ways he could think of or entertaining anybody unless she'd like my new book of travels or my velocipede, he added. I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose said his mamma, smiling, especially the last yet we must think of something. But just here, Mr. King thought it about time to take manners into his hands, so, with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by, he had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest this day, it seemed as if she could bear it no longer if she could only see phronsie for just one moment, I shall have to give up she moaned. I can't bear it and over went her head on the music rack. Where is she said a voice over in front of the piano in the gathering dusk, unmistakably, mister king's? Oh, she's always at the piano said van. She must be there now somewhere. and then somebody laughed, then came in the loudest of whispers from little dick Oh Jappy What'll she say? Hush said one of the other boys do be still dick. Polly sat up very straight and whisked off the tears quickly here. Polly hold your arms. He had only strength to gasp at this. The bundle opened suddenly and out, popped phronsie. Here I am. I'm here Polly, but Polly couldn't speak, and if jasper hadn't caught her just in time, she would have tumbled over backward from the stool. phronsie and all aren't you glad I've come. Polly asked phronsie with her little face close to Polly's own that brought Polly too." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 7229.3, "words": 602, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Part two neighboring fields, it is 16 years since John Bergson died his wife now lies beside him, and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat fields. Could he rise from beneath it? He would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie, which they lifted to make him a bed has vanished for ever from the Norwegian graveyard. One looks out over a vast checker board marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light. Telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. From the graveyard gate, one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses, the gilded weather vanes on the big red barns wink at each other, across the green and brown and yellow fields. The divide is now thickly populated. The rich soil yields heavy harvests, the dry, bracing climate, and the smoothness of the land make labor easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring plowing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length and the brown earth, with such a strong, clean smell, and such a power of growth and fertility in it, yields itself eagerly to the plow, rolls away from the sheer, not even dimming the brightness of the metal, with a soft, deep sigh of happiness. The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night, as well as all day, and in good seasons there are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade, and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back, like the plains of Lombardy. It seems to rise a little to meet the sun. The air and the earth are curiously mated and intermingled, as if the one were the breath of the other, you feel in the atmosphere, the same tonic puissant quality that is in the tilth. The same strength and resoluteness. One June morning, a young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe and strokes unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade, he slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling. But softly out of respect to the quiet folk about him. Unconscious respect, probably for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts, and like the gladiators. They were far away. He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine tree, with a handsome head, and stormy gray eyes, deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling, for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the cornet in the university band. When the grass required his close attention, or when he had to stoop to cut about a headstone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again, he was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered, the old, wild country, the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed, while so many men broke their hearts and died, he can scarcely remember." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 8596.8, "words": 602, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Part two neighboring fields, it is 16 years since John Bergson died his wife now lies beside him, and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat fields. Could he rise from beneath it? He would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie which they lifted to make him a bed has vanished for ever. From the Norwegian graveyard, one looks out over a vast checker board marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. From the graveyard gate, one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses, the gilded weather vanes on the big red barns, wink at each other across the green and brown and yellow fields. The divide is now thickly populated. The rich soil yields, heavy harvests, the dry bracing climate, and the smoothness of the land make labor, easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring plowing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length and the brown earth. With such a strong, clean smell, and such a power of growth and fertility in it yields itself eagerly to the plow rolls away from the sheer, not even dimming the brightness of the metal with a soft deep sigh of happiness. The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night, as well as all day and in good seasons. There are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back. Like the plains of Lombardy, it seems to rise a little to meet the sun, the air and the earth are curiously, mated and intermingled as if the one were the breath of the other. You feel in the atmosphere, the same tonic puissant quality that is in the tilth, the same strength and resoluteness. One June morning. A young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe and strokes, unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade. He slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling. But softly out of respect to the quiet folk about him, unconscious respect, probably for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts, and like the gladiators, they were far away. He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine tree with a handsome head and stormy gray eyes deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the cornet in the university band when the grass required his close attention or when he had to stoop to cut about a headstone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again. He was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered, the old wild country, the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed, while so many men broke their hearts and died, he can scarcely remember." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 6988.7, "words": 709, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour, reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the Goulds was getting a divorce, and frank took it as a personal affront in printing the story of the young man's marital troubles. The knowing editor gave a sufficiently colored account of his career, stating the amount of his income, and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it. Frank read English slowly, and the more he read about this divorce case, the angrier he grew. He turned to his farm hand who was reading the other half of the paper by god listen here what he'd do with his money, and frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. Marie sighed. She thought it hard that the Goulds, for whom she had nothing but good will should make her so much trouble. She hated to see the Sunday newspapers come into the house. Frank was always reading about the doings of rich people, and feeling outraged. He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies, how they bribed the courts, and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose. Frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. After he was gone. Marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter, making a brisk wind had come up and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky. The orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun. Marie stood looking toward it wistfully, her hand on the lid of the churn when she heard a sharp ring in the air, the merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe that invitation decided her. She ran into the house, put on a short skirt, and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow, his yellow canvas, leggings, and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees. Isn't everything beautiful after the rain? Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed when I heard it raining in the night. I thought maybe you would come and do it for me to day. The wind wakened me. Didn't it blow dreadfully just smell the wild roses? They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before. I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them too? What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty? Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season too then it's exciting to see everything growing so fast and to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them. I mean, that low place down by my tree, where there are so many aren't you splashed? Look at the spider webs all over the grass. Goodbye. I'll call you if I see a snake in a few moments. He heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail, and he began to swing his scythe with that long, even stroke that few American boy's ever learn. Marie picked cherries, and sang softly to herself, stripping one glittering ranch after another, shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair. And Amyel mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry trees. That summer the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than Shabata and his man could do to keep up with the corn. The orchard was a neglected wilderness. All sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there, splotches of wild, larkspur, pale, green and white spikes of horehound plantations of wild cotton, tangles of foxtail, and wild wheat. South of the apricot trees, cornering on the wheat field, was francs alfalfa, where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms. Emil paused and straightened his back. I don't know, about like the Germans, wasn't it? Marie went on as if she had not heard him." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 8156.7, "words": 709, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour, reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the Goulds was getting a divorce and frank took it as a personal affront. In printing the story of the young man's marital troubles, the knowing editor gave a sufficiently colored account of his career, stating the amount of his income, and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it. Frank read English slowly, and the more he read about this divorce case, the angrier he grew. He turned to his farm hand who was reading the other half of the paper by god. Listen here what he do with his money and frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. Marie sighed. She thought it hard that the Goulds, for whom she had nothing but good will should make her so much trouble. She hated to see the Sunday newspapers come into the house. Frank was always reading about the doings of rich people and feeling outraged. He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies how they bribed the courts and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. After he was gone, Marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter, making a brisk wind had come up and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky. The orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun. Marie stood looking toward it wistfully, her hand on the lid of the churn when she heard a sharp ring in the air. The merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe. That invitation decided her she ran into the house, put on a short skirt and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow, his yellow canvas, leggings and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees, isn't everything beautiful after the rain. Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed when I heard it raining in the night. I thought maybe you would come and do it for me to day. The wind wakened me. didn't it? Blow dreadfully just smell the wild roses. They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them too? What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty? Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season, too, then. It's exciting to see everything growing so fast and to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them. I mean that low place down by my tree where there are so many. Aren't you splashed? Look at the spider webs all over the grass. Goodbye goodbye. I'll call you if I see a snake in a few moments. He heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail, and he began to swing his scythe with that long, even stroke that few American boys ever learn. Marie picked cherries and sang softly to herself, stripping one glittering ranch after another, shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair. And Emil mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry trees that summer, the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than shabata and his man could do to keep up with the corn. The orchard was a neglected wilderness. All sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there, splotches of wild, larkspur, pale, green and white spikes of horehound plantations of wild cotton, tangles of foxtail, and wild wheat. South of the apricot trees cornering on the wheat field was frank's alfalfa, where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms. Emil paused and straightened his back. I don't know about like the Germans, wasn't it? Marie went on as if she had not heard him." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 4082.6, "words": 605, "errors": 18, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, August 15. The sea unbroken all round. No land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant. My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass. And folds his arms with the air of an injured man. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him. But now that I am well, his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favorably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? You seem anxious, my uncle. I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious? No, not at all. Impatient, then? One might be, with less reason than now. Yet we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the seat is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at 30 leagues. Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. We are not descending, as we ought to be, the professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage taking a little sail. But, I remarked, since we have followed the road that Saknussemm has shown us, that is just the question, have we followed that road? Did Secnusa meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream, what we followed? Let us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor, to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday August 16th. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim, or fail altogether. But there seemed no reason of fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly, the sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean, or the Atlantic, and why not? My uncle took sounding several times, but when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints, as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth, I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal. The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. I could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar. Surely would my last night's dream be realized? These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength. I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. I saw at the Hamburg Museum, the skeleton of one of these creatures, thirty feet in length. No, surely it cannot be." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 5532.6, "words": 605, "errors": 20, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, August 15. The sea unbroken all round. No land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant. My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass, and folds his arms with the air of an injured man. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him, but now that I am well, his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favorably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? You seem anxious, my uncle, I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious? No, not at all. Impatient, then? One might be with less reason than now. Yet we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the seat is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at 30 leagues. Now we had made 3 times the distance, yet still, the southern coast was not in sight. We are not descending, as we ought to be, the professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pawn, and our long voyage, taking a little sail. But, I remarked, since we have followed the road that Secnussem has shown us, that is just the question, have we followed that road? Did Secnusa meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream that we followed, let us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, August 16th. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension, lest the electric light should grow dim or fail altogether, but there seemed no reason of fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly, the sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic, and why not? My uncle took sounding several times, but when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface, deep prints, as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth! I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal. The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. I could not take my eyes off this intended iron bar. Surely will my last night's dream be realized? These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength. I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. I saw at the Hamburg Museum, the skeleton of one of these creatures. thirty feet in length. No, surely it cannot be." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 5201.7, "words": 621, "errors": 22, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather. If we may use the term, we'll change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapors, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of saline waters. The clouds are sinking lower and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain, which is dropped over the theater on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. I feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures, on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes, the heavily voluted cumulus clouds, lower gloomily, and threateningly. They wear that impeccable look which I have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm. The air is heavy, the sea is calm. In the distance, the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. By degrees, they dilate, then gain in huge size, what they lose in number. Such is their ponderous weight, that they cannot rise from the horizon, but obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields. The gloom upon them deepens, and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. From time to time, a fleecy tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it. drops down upon the dense floor of gray, and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. The atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. My whole body is saturated, my hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool, under the action of an electrical machine. It seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. At ten in the morning, the symptoms of storm become aggravated, the wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength, the vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful, windy gusts, and rushing storms. Here are some very bad weather coming on. The professor made no answer. His temper is awful, to judge from the working of his features, as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him, to an indefinite extent. He can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously. There's a heavy storm coming on. I cried, pointing towards the horizon. Those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea. A deep silence falls on all around. The lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm. Nature seems to breed the more. And to be sinking into the stillness of death. On the mast, already, I see the light play of Alament, St. Elbow's fire, the outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind, and hangs like a sheet of lead. The rudder stands motionless in a sluggish, waveless sea. But if we have now ceased to advance, why do we yet leave that sail loose, which at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment? That will be the safest. No, no, never, shouted my impetuous uncle. Never let the wind catch us, if it will. The words were hardly out of his mouth, when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. The piled up vapors, condensed into water, and the air, put into violent action to supply the vacuum, left by the condensation of the mist, rouses itself into a whirlwind. It rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern. The darkness deepens. Scarcely can I jot down a few hurried notes. The helm makes a bound. My uncle falls full length. I creep close to him." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 6961.7, "words": 621, "errors": 21, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather. If we may use the term, we'll change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapors, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of saline waters. The clouds are sinking lower, and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain, which is dropped over the theatre on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. I feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes, the heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomily and threateningly. They wear that impeccable look, which I have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm. The air is heavy, the sea is calm. In the distance, the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. By degrees, they dilate, then gain in huge size, what they lose in number. Such is their ponderous weight, that they cannot rise from the horizon, but obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields. The gloom upon them deepens, and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. From time to time, a fleecy tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it, drops down upon the dense floor of gray, and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. The atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. My whole body is saturated. My hair bristles, just as when you stand upon an insulated stool, under the action of an electrical machine. It seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. At ten in the morning, the symptoms of storm become aggravated. The wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength. The vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful, windy gusts, and rushing storms. Here are some very bad weather coming on. The professor made no answer. His temper is awful to judge from the working of his features as he sees this vast length of ocean and rolling before him to an indefinite extent. He can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously. There's a heavy storm coming on. I cried, pointing towards the horizon. Those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea. A deep silence falls on all around. The lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm. Nature seems to breathe no more, and to be sinking into the stillness of death. On the mast, already, I see the light play of alament at St. Elbow's fire. The outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind and hangs like a sheet of lead. The rudder stands motionless in a sluggish waveless sea, but if we have now ceased to advance. Why do we yet leave that sail loose, which, at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment? That will be the safest. No, no, never shouted my impetuous uncle. Never let the wind catch us if it will. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. The piled up vapors contensed into water, and the air put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mist rouses itself into a whirlwind. It rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern, the darkness deepens. Scarcely can I jot down a few hurried notes. The helm makes a bound. My uncle falls full length. I creep close to him." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 4245.6, "words": 716, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Oh, my poor little feet! I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears, and how odd the directions will look. Hearthrug, near the fender, with Alice's love. Oh, dear, what nonsense I'm talking. Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact, she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye, but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, said Alice, a great girl like you. She might well say this. To go on crying in this way? Stop this moment, I tell you, but she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pull all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time, she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes, to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand, and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came. Oh, the duchess, the duchess! Oh, won't she be savage, if I've kept her waiting. Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one. So when the rabbit came near her, she began in a low, timid voice. If you please, sir. The rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself, all the time, she went on talking. Dear, dear, how queer everything is to day, and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. I'm sure I'm not Ada, she said, for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all. And I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things. And she oh, she knows such a very little. Besides, she, she! And I'm I. And, oh, dear, how puzzling it all is. I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. I shall never get to twenty at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome? No, that's all wrong. I'm certain. I must have been changed for Mabel. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words, said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again, as she went on. I must be Mabel, after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh, ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use, they're putting their heads down and saying, 'Come up again, dear, tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up. If not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else. But, oh, dear, cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, I do wish they would put their heads down. I am so very tired of being all alone here." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 6597.8, "words": 716, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Oh, my poor little feet! I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears, and how odd the directions will look. Hearthrug, near the fender, with Alice's love. Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking. Just then, her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact, she was now more than 9 feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye, but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, said Alice. A great girl like you. She might well say this. To go on crying in this way, stop this moment, I tell you. But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time, she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand, and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came. Oh, the duchess, the duchess. Oh, won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting? Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone. So when the rabbit came near her, she began in a low, timid voice, If you please, sir. The rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time, she went on talking. Dear, dear, how queer everything is to day, and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different, but if I'm not the same, the next question is... Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. I'm sure I'm not Ada, she said, for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all, and I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things. And she? Oh, she knows such a very little. Besides, she, she, and I'm I, and oh, dear, how puzzling it all is. I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. I shall never get to 20 at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris. And Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome? No, that's all wrong. I'm certain. I must have been changed for Mabel. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words said poor Alice and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on. I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh. Ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use, their putting their heads down and saying, come up again, dear, tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up. If not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else, but oh dear, cried Alice with a sudden burst of tears, I do wish they would put their heads down. I am so very tired of being all alone here." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 4228.4, "words": 579, "errors": 27, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will on one condition and what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American streamline him so to speak because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran Church, actually to read Luther, unless we make him talk as he would talk to day to Americans and what book would be your choice? There is one book that Luther himself liked better than any other. Let us begin with that. His commentary on Galatians. The undertaking which seems so attractive when viewed as a literary task proved a most difficult one, and at times became oppressive. The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than fifteen hundred pages, ordinary octavo, like this, since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides laboring under the handicaps of an archaic style, had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary ungulations. The reformer had lectured on this epistle of St. Paul's, in 1519, and again in 1523. It was his favorite among all the Biblical books. In his table talks, the saying is recorded, the Epistle to the Galatians is my Epistle. To it I am, as it were, in wedlock. It is my Catherine. Much later, when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his Latin works, he remarked to his home circle, \"If I had my way about it, they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine, my Galatians, for instance. The lectures which are preserved and the works herewith submitted to the American public were delivered in 1531. They were taken down by George Rohr, who held something of a deanship at Wittenberg University, and who was one of Luther's aides in the translation of the Bible. In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians, and Rohr prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justus Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings, published in 1539. It presents, like no other of Luther's writings, the central thought of Christianity, the justification of the sinner for the sake of Christ's merits alone. We have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand, which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the Latin original. But the essence of Luther's lectures is there. May the reader accept with indulgence, wherein this translation we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The Lord who has given us power to teach and to hear, let him also give us the power to serve and to do. Luke 2. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men. Isaiah 40. The word of our God shall stand forever." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 5227.4, "words": 579, "errors": 26, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will on one condition and what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American streamline him. So to speak because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran church, actually to read Luther, unless we make him talk as he would talk to day to Americans, and what book would be your choice? There is one book that Luther himself liked better than any other. Let us begin with that. His commentary on Galatians, the undertaking, which seems so attractive when viewed as a literary task, proved a most difficult one, and at times became oppressive. The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than 1500 pages ordinary octavo like this since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences, which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides laboring under the handicaps of an archaic style. Had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary ungulations. The reformer had lectured on this epistle of saint Paul's in 1519 and again in 1523. It was his favorite among all the biblical books in his table talks. The saying is recorded the epistle to the Galatians is my epistle to it. I am as it were in wedlock. It is my Catherine much later when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his Latin works, he remarked to his home circle. If I had my way about it, they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine. My Galatians, for instance, the lectures which are preserved in the works herewith submitted to the American public were delivered in 1531. They were taken down by George Rohr, who held something of a deanship at Wittenberg University, and who was one of Luther's aides in the translation of the Bible. In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians and rohr prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justus Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings published in 1539. It presents like no other of Luther's writings, the central thought of Christianity, the justification of the sinner, for the sake of Christ merits alone. We have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand, which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the Latin original. But the essence of Luther's lectures is there may the reader accept with indulgence where in this translation, we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The lord, who has given us power to teach, and to hear. Let him also give us the power to serve and to do Luke 2 glory to god in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will to men. Isaiah 40. The word of our god shall stand forever." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 4856.2, "words": 726, "errors": 4, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The world bears the gospel, a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world, jealous for its own religious views. The world in turn, charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine offensive to god and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience and every blessing. Just for that, the world abhors the gospel in every way, they sought to undermine the authority of saint Paul. They said to the Galatians, You have no right to think highly of Paul. He was the last to turn to Christ, but we have seen Christ. We heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error, we who have received the Holy Ghost. Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ, nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed, he persecuted the Church of Christ for a long time. When men claiming such credentials come along, they deceive not only the naive, but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith. This same argument is used by the papacy, do you suppose that God, for the sake of a few Lutheran heretics, would disown his entire church? Or do you suppose that God would have left his church floundering in error all these centuries? The Galatians were taken in by such arguments, with the result that Paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question. Against these boasting false apostles, Paul boldly defends his apostolic authority and ministry. Humble man that he was, he will not now take a back seat. The certainty of our calling. As the ambassador of a government is honored for his office, and not for his private person, so the minister of Christ should exalt his office, in order to gain authority among men. This is not vain glory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise, but to the praise of God. Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of God, verse one, Paul, an apostle, not of men, etc. Paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry. He says to the Galatians. My call may seem inferior to you. When Paul speaks of those called by men. I take it. He means those whom neither god nor man send, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by man, I take it. He means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways, either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly, as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. The most they could claim is that they were sent by others. But as for me, I was called neither of men, nor by man, but directly by Jesus Christ. My call is in every respect like the call of the apostles. In fact, I am an apostle. He mentions the apostles first, because they were appointed directly by God. Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates, and then cast lots, praying that God would indicate which one he would have. To be an apostle, he had to have his appointment from God. In the same manner, Paul was called as the apostle of the Gentiles. The call is not to be taken lightly. For a person to possess knowledge is not enough. He must be sure that he is properly called. This is our comfort in the ministry, that ours is a divine office, to which we have been divinely called. Reversely, what an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. It spoils one's best work. When I was a young man, I thought Paul was making too much of his call. I did not understand his purpose. I did not then realize the importance of the ministry." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 6641.9, "words": 726, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The world bears the gospel, a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world, jealous for its own religious views. The world in turn, charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine offensive to god and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience, and every blessing. Just for that, the world abhors the gospel. In every way, they sought to undermine the authority of saint Paul, they said to the Galatians, you have no right to think highly of Paul, he was the last to turn to Christ, but we have seen Christ. We heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error. We who have received the holy ghost. Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed, he persecuted the church of Christ for a long time. When men claiming such credentials come along, they deceive, not only the naïve, but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith. This same argument is used by the papacy. Do you suppose that god for the sake of a few Lutheran heretics would disown his entire church? Or do you suppose that god would have left his church floundering in error all these centuries? The Galatians were taken in by such arguments with the result that Paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question. Against these boasting, false apostles, Paul boldly defends his apostolic authority and ministry, humble man that he was, he will not now take a back seat. The certainty of our calling, as the ambassador of a government is honored for his office, and not for his private person, so the minister of Christ should exalt his office in order to gain authority among men. This is not vainglory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise, but to the praise of god Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of god. Verse one, Paul, an apostle, not of men, etc. Paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry. He says to the Galatians, my call may seem inferior to you when Paul speaks of those called by men. I take it. He means those whom neither god nor man sinned, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by man. I take it. He means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways. Either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly, as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. The most they could claim is that they were sent by others, but as for me, I was called neither of men, nor by man, but directly by Jesus Christ. My call is in every respect like the call of the apostles. In fact, I am an apostle he mentions the apostles first because they were appointed directly by god Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates. And then cast lots, praying that god would indicate which one he would have to be an apostle he had to have his appointment from god. In the same manner. Paul was called as the apostle of the gentiles. The call is not to be taken lightly for a person to possess knowledge is not enough. He must be sure that he is properly called. This is our comfort in the ministry that ours is a divine office to which we have been divinely called reversely. What an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. It spoils one's best work when I was a young man, I thought Paul was making too much of his call. I did not understand his purpose. I did not then realize the importance of the ministry." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 5345.0, "words": 512, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science out of the confusion of theological mathematical, and physiological notions out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts, and from a greater perception of similarities, which lie on the surface than of differences, which are hidden from view. to bring sense under the control of reason to find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances, either the highway of mathematics or more devious paths, suggested by the analogy of men with the world, and of the world with men, to see that all things have a cause and are tending towards an end. This is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher. He has no notion of trying an experiment, and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature, which are tumbling out at his feet, or of interpreting even the most obvious of them. He is driven back from the nearer to the more distant, from particulars to generalities, from the earth to the stars. He lifts up his eyes to the heavens, and seeks to guide by their motions, his erring footsteps, but we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected, nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination, the same hold upon us, for he is hanging between matter and mind, he is under the dominion at the same time, both of sense and of abstractions. His impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature. He sees the light, but not the objects which are revealed by the light, and he brings into juxtaposition, things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder, because he finds nothing between them. He passes abruptly from persons, to ideas and numbers, and from ideas and numbers, to persons, from the heavens to men, from astronomy to physiology, he confuses, or rather does not distinguish, subject and object, first and final causes, and is dreaming of geometrical figures lost in a flux of sense. He has no implements of observation, such as the telescope or microscope, the great science of chemistry, as a blank to him. It is only by an effort that the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher or understand how, under such unequal conditions, has seems, in many instances, by a sort of inspiration, to have anticipated the truth. The influence which the Timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due partly to a misunderstanding. In the supposed depths of this dialogue, the Neo Platonists found hidden meanings in connections with the Jewish and Christian scriptures. And out of them, they elicited doctrines quite at variance with the spirit of Plato. Believing that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost, or had received his wisdom from Moses, they seemed to find, in his writings, the Christian trinity, the word, the church, the creation of the world in a Jewish sense, as they really found the personality of God, or of mind, and the immortality of the soul." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 5758.6, "words": 512, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science out of the confusion of theological, mathematical, and physiological notions out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts. And from a greater perception of similarities, which lie on the surface than of differences, which are hidden from view to bring sense under the control of reason To find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances, either the highway of mathematics or more devious paths, suggested by the analogy of men with the world, and of the world with men to see that all things have a cause and are tending towards an end. This is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher. He has no notion of trying an experiment, and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature, which are tumbling out at his feet. Or of interpreting, even the most obvious of them, he is driven back from the nearer to the more distant from particulars to generalities from the earth to the stars. He lifts up his eyes to the heavens and seeks to guide by their motions, his erring footsteps, but we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected, nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination, the same hold upon us. For he is hanging between matter and mind, he is under the dominion at the same time, both of sense and of abstractions. His impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature, he sees the light, but not the objects which are revealed by the light. And he brings into juxtaposition things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder because he finds nothing between them. He passes abruptly from persons to ideas and numbers, and from ideas and numbers to persons. From the heavens to man from astronomy to physiology, he confuses or rather does not distinguish subject an object first and final causes, and is dreaming of geometrical figures. Lost in a flux of sense, he has no implements of observation, such as the telescope or microscope. The great science of chemistry is a blank to him. It is only by an effort. That the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher, or understand how under such unequal conditions has seems in many instances. By a sort of inspiration to have anticipated the truth, the influence which the timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due, partly to a misunderstanding. In the supposed depths of this dialogue, the neo Platonists found hidden meanings and connections with the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and out of them, they elicited doctrines quite at variance with the spirit of Plato. Believing that he was inspired by the holy ghost or had received his wisdom from Moses, they seemed to find in his writings, the Christian trinity, the word. The church, the creation of the world in a Jewish sense as they really found the personality of god or of mind and the immortality of the soul." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 4320.0, "words": 585, "errors": 23, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Socrates begins the Timaeus with a summary of the republic. He lightly touches upon a few points, the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes, the double nature and training of the guardians, the community of property and of women and children, but he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers, and now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion. He would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle, and therefore, to you, I turn, Timaeus, citizen of Locris, who are at once a philosopher and a statesman, and to you, Critius, whom all Athenians know to be similarly accomplished, and to Hermocrates, who is also fitted by nature and education to share in our discourse. Hermocrates. We will do our best, and have been already preparing, for on our way home. Gritius told us of an ancient tradition, which I wish, Gritius, that you would repeat to Socrates. I will, if Timaeus approves. I approve. Listen, then, Socrates, to a tale of Solens, who, being the friend of Dropidus, my great grandfather, told it to my grandfather, Critius, and he told me. The narrative related to ancient famous actions of the Athenian people, and to one especially, which I will rehearse in honor of you and of the goddess. Critius, when he told this tale of the olden time, was ninety years old, I being not more than ten. The occasion of the rehearsal was the day of the apeturia, called the registration of youth, at which our parents gave prizes for recitation. Some poems of Solon were recited by the boys. They had not, at that time, gone out of fashion, and the rest of all of them, led some one to say, perhaps in compliment to Critias, that Solon was not only the wisest of men, but also the best of poets. And what was the subject of the poem, said the person who made the remark. The subject was a very noble one. He described the most famous action in which the Athenian people were ever engaged. But the memory of their exploits had passed away, owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors. Tell us, said the other, the whole story, and where Solon heard the story. The citizens have a friendly feeling towards the Athenians, believing themselves to be related to them, hither came Solon, and was received with honor, and here he first learned by conversing with the Egyptian priests, how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity. Thereupon, an aged priest said to him, o sullen, sullen, you Hellens are ever young, and there is no old man who is a Hellene. What do you mean he asked. In mind, replied the priest. I mean to say that you are children. There's no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you, which is white with age, and I will tell you why. Like the rest of mankind, you have suffered from convulsions of nature, which are chiefly brought about by the true great agencies of fire and water, for there occurs, at long intervals, a derangement of the heavenly bodies, and then the earth is destroyed by fire. Now the Nile is our savior from fire, and as there is little rain in Egypt, we are not harmed by water, whereas in other countries, when a deluge comes, the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 5919.4, "words": 585, "errors": 25, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Socrates begins the Timaeus with a summary of the republic. He lightly touches upon a few points, the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes, the double nature and training of the guardians, the community of property and of women and children. But he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers, and now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion. He would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle. And therefore, to you, I turn Timaeus citizen of Locris, who are at once a philosopher, and a statesman, and to you, critias, whom all Athenians know to be similarly accomplished, and to hermocrates, who is also fitted by nature and education to share in our discourse. Hermocrates, we will do our best, and have been already preparing for on our way home. Gritius told us of an ancient tradition, which I wish Gritius that you would repeat to Socrates. I will if Timaeus approves. I approve. Listen, then, Socrates, to a tale of solence, who being the friend of tropides, my great grandfather told it to my grandfather critius, and he told me. The narrative related to ancient famous actions of the Athenian people, and to one, especially which I will rehearse in honor of you and of the goddess. Critius when he told this tale of the olden time was 90 years old. I being not more than 10 The occasion of the rehearsal was the day of the apicheria called the registration of youth at which our parents gave prizes for recitation. Some poems of Solon were recited by the boys they had not at that time gone out of fashion, and the rest of all of them led some one to say. Perhaps in compliment to critias, but Solon was not only the wisest of men, but also the best of poets, and what was the subject of the poem, said the person who made the remark the subject. Was a very noble one he described the most famous action in which the Athenian people were ever engaged, but the memory of their exploits had passed away, owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors Tell us said the other, the whole story and where Solon heard the story. The citizens have a friendly feeling towards the Athenians, believing themselves to be related to them. Hither came Solon and was received with honor, and here he first learned by conversing with the Egyptian priests, how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity. Thereupon, an aged priest said to him o sullen, sullen, you Hellens are ever young, and there is no old man who is a Hellene. What do you mean he asked in mind, replied the priest. I mean to say that you are children. There's no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you, which is white with age and I will tell you why. Like the rest of mankind, you have suffered from convulsions of nature, which are chiefly brought about by the true great agencies of fire and water, for there occurs at long intervals, a derangement of the heavenly bodies. And then the earth is destroyed by fire. Now the Nile is our savior from fire, and as there is little rain in Egypt, we are not harmed by water, whereas in other countries when a deluge comes, the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 5429.3, "words": 672, "errors": 21, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries, and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters, another scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one, is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling, and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already at a point in economic evolution far antedating the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods, as an evidence of pecuniary strength, had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption, even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predator culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are also intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character. But unlike the latter, it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative growth. It is an adaption to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well established in men's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honorable superior class made up of the able bodied men on the one side, and a base inferior class of laboring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls to the women is merely incidental to their work. It is a means to their continued labor, and not a consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. And productive consumption of goods is honorable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily, it becomes substantially honorable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things. The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, that taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries, and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals, and more particularly, certain beverages are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dietary is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be a noble and honorific. Therefore, the base classes, primarily the women practice an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, excepting countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down, through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men of gentle birth and breeding to consume them. Drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants, therefore tend, in their turn, to become honorific, as being a mark, at the second remove, of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 7014.6, "words": 672, "errors": 24, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries, and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters. Another scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one, is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling, and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already, at a point in economic evolution far end dating, the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods as an evidence of pecuniary strength had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption, even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predatory culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are also intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character, but unlike the latter, it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative growth. It is an adaptation to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well established in man's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honorable superior class, made up of the able bodied men on the one side, and a base inferior class of laboring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls to the women is merely incidental to their work. It is a means to their continued labor, and not the consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. And productive consumption of goods is honorable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily, it becomes substantially honorable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things. The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, the taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals, and more particularly, certain beverages are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dietary is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be a noble and honorific. Therefore, the base classes, primarily the women, practice an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, accepting countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down, through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men, of gentle birth and breeding to consume them. Drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants, therefore tend in their turn to become honorific, as being a mark at the second remove, of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 7753.1, "words": 747, "errors": 16, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently, these two groups coincide, the dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife or the chief wife, and as would be expected in the later development of the institution when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last, but as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone. In the communities of the western culture. This point is at present found among the lower middle class. And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class there is no pretense of leisure on the part of the head of the household, through force of circumstances it has fallen into disuse, but the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure, for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood, by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary business man of to day. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity, in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities, which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful, or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us chiefly because we have been taught to find them pleasing. Pretty mature that it's here insisted on is that as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance if they are. They must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves to the great economic law of wasted effort. The requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force, even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure. At a point below which little, if any pretense of wizard effort, in ceremonial cleanness, and the like, is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously, for the reputability of the household, and So that, as the latter day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset the dredge and tattle of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume, has become the ceremonial consumer of goods which he produces. But she still quite unmistakably remains his chattlin theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practiced by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life, since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the second remove. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 9212.6, "words": 747, "errors": 15, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently, these two groups coincide the dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife or the chief wife, and as would be expected in the later development of the institution when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last. But as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone in the communities of the western culture, this point is at present found among the lower middle class And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class, there is no pretense of leisure on the part of the head of the household. Through force of circumstance, it has fallen into disuse, but the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure, for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood, by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary business man of to day. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities. Which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us, chiefly because we have been taught to find them, pleasing. Pretty mature that is here insisted on is that as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance, if they are, they must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves to the great economic law of wasted effort, the requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force, even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure. At a point below, which little if any pretense of wizard effort in ceremonial cleanness, and the like is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously for the reputability of the household and its head. So that as the latter day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset, the dredge and tettle of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume. Has become the ceremonial consumer of good switch he produces, but she still quite unmistakably remains his chatlin theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practiced by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the second remove. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 7470.7, "words": 677, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground and tend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward, and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance both absolutely and relatively, until it had absorbed all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual cause of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start, and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods, both as a direct exponent of wealth and as an element in the standard of decency, during the quasi peaceable culture. From that point onward, consumption has gained ground until at present it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honorable and becomes imperative partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labor, the ichaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi peaceful stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship, other circumstances permitting, that instinct disposes men to look with favor upon productive efficiency, and on whatever is of human use, it disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men, and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements, as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labor continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all protective effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men, to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness. But when the quasi peaceable stage, with slavery and status, passes into the peaceable stage of industry, with wage labor and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play, it then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious, and asserts itself at least as an Auxiliary canon of self complacency, but the fact that it may under stress of circumstances eventuate in inanities no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nestful of china eggs. This latter day uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecorously productive of either individual or collective gain, marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the course I peaceable stage. At the earliest stage, as was said above, the all dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent in predatory activity, now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated, especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the otium cum dignitata. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand, and will permit nothing beyond the most transient vogue to any employment that is substantially useful or productive, the consequence is that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practiced by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 9322.9, "words": 677, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground intend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward, and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance, both absolutely and relatively, until it had absorbed all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual course of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods both as a direct exponent of wealth, and as an element in the standard of decency during the quasi peaceable culture. From that point onward, consumption has gained ground until at present, it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honorable and becomes imperative, partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labor. The archaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi-peaceful stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship, other circumstances permitting that instinct disposes men to look with favor upon productive efficiency, and on whatever is of human use. It disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men, and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements, as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labor continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all productive effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness, but when the quasi peaceable stage... With slavery and status passes into the peaceable stage of industry with wage labor and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play. It then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious and asserts itself at least as an auxiliary canon of self complacency. But the fact that it may under stress of circumstances eventuate in inanities no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nestful of china eggs. This latter-day, uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecorously productive of either individual or collective gain marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the course I peaceable stage. At the earliest stage, as was said above, the old dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent in predatory activity now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated. Especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the otium cum dignitata. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand, and will permit... Nothing beyond the most transient folk to any employment that is substantially useful or productive, the consequences that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practiced by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 4544.3, "words": 691, "errors": 21, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as every one likes to judge for himself. I copy the six opening stanzas about a third of the whole, and certainly not the worst, so where he reigns in glory bright above those starry skies of night, amid his paradise of light. Oh, why may I not be? And often has my mother said, while on her lap, I laid my head. She feared for time I was not made, but for eternity. So, I can read my title clear, to mansions in the skies, And let me bid farewell to fear, and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, she was distressed by a hearing that her friend E was likely to leave the neighborhood for a considerable length of time. February 20. What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You 1st pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavoring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we are in danger of loving each other too well, of losing sight of the creator and idolatry of the creature. At 1st I could not say, thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so. Being left a moment alone this morning, I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of God's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severe hand than the present disappointment. Since then I have felt calmer and humbler, and consequently happier. Last Sunday I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind, I began to read. A feeling stole over me such as I have not known for many long years. A sweet, placid sensation, like those I remember, which used to visit me when I was a little child, and on Sunday evenings in the summer, stood by the open window reading the life of a certain French nobleman. who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity, than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Toryan clergyman's daughter, was always in a minority of one in our house of violent dissent and radicalism. Her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose anyone without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously, sometimes picking out any grain of sense there might be in what I said, but never allowing any one materially to interfere with her independence of thought and action. Mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence, but of strong, not to say violent prejudices, all running in favor of republicanism and dissent. No other county but Yorkshire could have produced such a man. His brother had been a détonue in France, and had afterwards voluntarily taking up his residence there. Mr. T himself had been much abroad, both on business, and to see the great continental galleries of paintings. He spoke French perfectly. I have been told, when need was, but delighted usually in talking the broadest Yorkshire. He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. He would speak his broadest, bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms. And by and by, if he found his hearer could stand the shock, he would involuntarily show his warm, kind heart, and his true taste and real refinement. They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand, Mr. T. is dead." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 6772.7, "words": 691, "errors": 21, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as every one likes to judge for himself. I copy the six opening stanzas about a third of the whole, and certainly not the worst, so where he reigns in glory bright above those starry skies of night. Amid his paradise of light, oh why may I not be and often has my mother said, while on her lap, I laid my head, she feared for time I was not made, but for eternity. So I can read my title clear to mansions in the skies, and let me bid farewell to fear and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, She was distressed by a hearing that her friend e was likely to leave the neighborhood for a considerable length of time. February 20. What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You 1st pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavoring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we're in danger of loving each other too well? Of losing sight of the creator and idolatry of the creature? At 1st I could not say, thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so being left a moment alone this morning. I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of god's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severe hand than the present disappointment since then I have felt calmer and humbler. And consequently, happier last Sunday, I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind. I began to read, a feeling stole over me, such as I have not known for many long years. A sweet, placid sensation, like those I remember, which used to visit me when I was a little child, and on Sunday evenings in the summer, stood by the open window reading the life of a certain French nobleman. Who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Tory and clergyman's daughter was always in a minority. Of one in our house of violent descent and radicalism, her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose any one without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously. Sometimes picking out any grain of sense, there might be in what I said, but never allowing any one material early to interfere with her independence of thought and action. Mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence, but of strong, not to say violent prejudices. All running in favor of republicanism and dissent, no other county, but Yorkshire could have produced such a man, his brother had been a detonue in France, and had afterwards voluntarily taking up his residence there. Mr. T himself had been much abroad, both on business, and to see the great continental galleries of paintings. He spoke French perfectly, I have been told, when need was, but delighted usually in talking the broadest Yorkshire. He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. He would speak his broadest, bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms, and by and by, if he found his hearer could stand the shock, he would involuntarily show his warm, kind heart, and his true taste, and real refinement. They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand, Mr. T is dead." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 4981.7, "words": 598, "errors": 21, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My apprenticeship in Paris, portraits, oddities all sorts of things to celebrate the arrival of her son. Sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. Belletti's father who had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had his father sister who was older than Mario. She was known under her theatrical name of flaminia in the literary world by several translations, but I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account than in consequence of the story known throughout Italy, of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. I had been announced to Flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, and she thought she honored me by addressing me at all, but she was wrong, for she displeased me greatly by her face, her manners, her style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, she made me understand that being herself, an illustrious member of the republic of letters, she was well aware that she was speaking to an insect. In order to please her. I spoke to her of the Abbe Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer. Madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word Skevre, which means divided, saying that it ought to be pronounced Scura, and she added that I ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in Paris, telling me that it would be an important day in my life. She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man of 80 years of age, told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an impostor. Her husband, Louis ricaboni, better known as Lelio, was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716, and placed it at the service of the regent. He was a man of great merit. He had been very handsome, and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public in consequence, not only of his talent. But also of the purity of his life. She was then about 50 years old. Her figure was elegant, her heir, noble, her manners, graceful and easy. She was affable, witty, kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, for it inspired every one with the warmest sympathy. And yet, if you examined it attentively. There was not one beautiful feature. She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly, yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she? Beautiful, certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling, which compelled them to love her. Had not the courage to study her or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. Sylvia was the adoration of France, and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest author's wrote for her, especially of the plays of Marivaux, for without her, his comedies would never have gone to posterity. In Sylvia, every quality was from nature. And the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 5791.4, "words": 598, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My apprenticeship in Paris, portraits, oddities all sorts of things to celebrate the arrival of her son. Sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. But Letty's father, who had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had his father sister who was older than Mario. She was known under her theatrical name of flaminia in the literary world by several translations. But I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account than in consequence of the story known throughout Italy of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. I had been announced to flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, and she thought she honored me by addressing me at all, but she was wrong for she displeased me greatly by her face. Her manners, her style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, she made me understand that being herself an illustrious member of the Republic of Letters. She was well aware that she was speaking to an insect. In order to please her, I spoke to her of the Abbe Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer, madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word scavre, which means divided saying that it ought to be pronounced scura. And she added that I ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in Paris telling me that it would be an important day in my life. She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man of 80 years of age told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an impostor. Her husband Louis ricaboni better known as Lelio was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716 and placed it at the service of the regent. He was a man of great merit. He had been very handsome and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public in consequence, not only of his talent, but also of the purity of his life. She was then about 50 years old. Her figure was elegant, her air, noble, her manners, graceful and easy. She was affable, witty, kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, for it inspired everyone with the warmest sympathy, and yet if you examined it attentively, there was not one beautiful feature. She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she? Beautiful certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling, which compelled them to love her, had not the courage to study her or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. Sylvia was the adoration of France, and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her, especially of the plays of Marivaux for without her. His comedies would never have gone to posterity in Sylvia. Every quality was from nature, and the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 4945.0, "words": 601, "errors": 20, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On 6 April 1830, the church of Jesus Christ of latter day saints was formally organized, and thus took on a legal existence. At that time there may have been, and probably were many times that number who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith, but as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formerly took part such was the beginning of the church, soon to be so universally maligned. Its origin was small, a germ, an insignificant seed, hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition. What was there to fear, and the voluntary association of six men, avowedly devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes? At first, but a family affair. Opposition to the work has involved successfully the town, the county, the state, the country, and to day the Mormon question, has been accorded, extended, consideration, at the hands of the national government, and, indeed, most civilizations have taken cognizance of the same. Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the Church. Instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most, two score of adherents, the organization numbers to day, many hundred thousand souls. In place of a single hamlet, in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated, there now are about seventy stakes of Zion, and about seven hundred organized wards, each ward and stake, with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations. The practice of gathering its proselytes into one place prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches, and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad, very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the Church. Nevertheless, the mustard seed, among the smallest of all seeds, has attained the proportions of a tree, and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches. The acorn is now in oak, offering protection, and the sweets of satisfaction, to every earnest pilgrim journeying its way for truth. From the organization of the church, the spirit of emigration rested upon the people. Their eyes were from the first turned in anticipation toward the evening sun, not merely that the work of proselyting should be carried on in the West, but that the headquarters of the church should be there established. The book of Mormon had taught the people the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism, early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes. Within three months from the beginning, the Church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the latter day saints with favor, seeing in the book of Mormon striking agreement with their own traditions. The first well established seat of the church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of Lake Erie. And here soon rose the first temple of modern times. Among there many other peculiarities. The latter day saints are characterized as a temple building people. As history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been. In the days of their infancy as a church. While in the thrall of poverty, and amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes, they laid the corner stone, and in less than three years thereafter, they celebrated the dedication of the Kirlin temple, a structure at once beautiful and imposing." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 7078.9, "words": 601, "errors": 23, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On 6 April 1830, the church of Jesus Christ of latter day saints was formally organized, and thus took on a legal existence. At that time there may have been, and probably were many times that number who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith. But as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formerly took part, such was the beginning of the church. Soon to be so universally maligned, its origin was small, a germ, an insignificant seed, hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition. What was there to fear and the voluntary association of six men avowedly, devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes at first, but a family affair opposition to the work has involved successfully the town? The county. The state, the country, and to day, the Mormon question has been accorded extended consideration at the hands of the national government, and indeed most civilizations have taken cognizance of the same. Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the church instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most two score of adherents. The organization numbers to day many hundred thousand souls in place of a single hamlet in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated. There now are about 70 stakes of Zion and about 700 organized wards. Each ward and stake with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations, the practice of gathering its proselytes into one place, prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches, and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad. Very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the church. Nevertheless, the mustard seed among the smallest of all seats has attained the proportions of a tree, and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches. The acorn is now in oak, offering protection, and the sweets of satisfaction to every earnest pilgrim, journeying its way for truth from the organization of the church. The spirit of emigration rested upon the people their eyes were from the first turned in anticipation toward the evening sun, not merely that the work of proselyting should be carried on in the west. But that the headquarters of the church should be there established, the book of Mormon had taught the people, the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism. Early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes within three months from the beginning, the church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the latter day saints with favor, seeing in the book of Mormon, striking agreement with their own traditions. The first well established seat of the church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of lake Erie, and here soon rose the first temple of modern times among there many other peculiarities. The latter day saints are characterized as a temple building people as history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been in the days of their infancy as a church while in the thrall of poverty. And amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes, they laid the corner stone, and in less than three years thereafter, they celebrated the dedication of the Kirtland temple, a structure at once, beautiful and imposing." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 4704.2, "words": 624, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The troops once in Utah had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly bought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then in their hasty departure. The soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities in the way of accoutrement in camp equipage. The army found the people in poverty and left them in comparative wealth. And what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military for many months. ominous rumblings had been heard indications of the gathering storm, which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife. It could not be doubted that war was imminent. Already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds, doing nothing for any phase of the public good, but a word further concerning the expedition in general. The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme. to weaken the government in its impending struggle with the secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession. But the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the north, while accumulating the munitions of war in the south, to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated and remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army in the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion, are matters of history. It is also told how, at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the Confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah, ostensibly, to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion. which, in fact, had never come into existence, but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists. When the history of that great struggle with its antecedent, and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indict naught but truth. When prejudice and partisanship are lived down, it may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion, turned his arms against the flag. He had sworn to defend, doffed the blue, donned the gray and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. Changes, many and great, followed in bewildering succession in Utah. The people were besought to take sides with the South, and the awful scenes of cruel strife. It was openly stated in the East that Utah had allied herself with the cause of secession, and by others that the design was to make Salt Lake City the capital of an independent government, and surely such conjectures were pardonable, on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nursed the delusion of Mormon disloyalty. Moreover, had the people been inclined to rebellion what greater opportunity could they have wished? Already a north and a south were talked of, why not set up also a west? A supreme opportunity had come, and how was it used? It was at this very time that the overland telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic and the pacific was completed, and the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Righam Young. Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and laws of our country. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences, and in the outrages to which they had been subjected, only the maladministration of laws, and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 6211.0, "words": 624, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The troops once in Utah had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly bought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then in their hasty departure. The soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities in the way of accoutrement in camp equipage. The army found the people in poverty and left them in comparative wealth, and what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military. for many months. Ominous rumblings had been heard indications of the gathering storm, which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife. It could not be doubted that war was imminent already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds doing nothing for any phase of the public good, but a word further concerning the expedition in general. The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme to weaken the government in its impending struggle with the secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession, but the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the north, while accumulating the munitions of war in the south to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated in remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army in the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion are matters of history. It is also told how at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah. Ostensibly to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion, which, in fact, had never come into existence, but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists. When the history of that great struggle with its antecedent and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indite naught, but truth, when prejudice and partisanship are lived down. It may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion turned his arms against the flag. He had sworn to defend doffed the blue, donned the gray and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. Changes many and great followed in bewildering succession in Utah. The people were besought to take sides with the south, and the awful scenes of cruel strife. It was openly stated in the east that Utah had allied herself with the cause of secession. And by others that the design was to make salt lake city, the capital of an independent government, and surely such conjectures were pardonable on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nurse the delusion of Mormon disloyalty. Moreover, had the people been inclined to rebellion what greater opportunity could they have wished already in north and south were talked of why not set up also a west a supreme opportunity had come, and how was it used? It was at this very time that the overland telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic, and the pacific was completed, and the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Righam Young. Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and laws of our country. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences, and in the outrages to which they had been subjected, only the maladministration of laws and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment, did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 4565.8, "words": 737, "errors": 47, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Maine hall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself among them, a history of dancing, a history of costume, a key to Shakespeare's sonnets, a study of the poetry of Ernest Downson, etc. although Mainhalt's enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination. His imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended up by becoming in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage Englishman of American drama. Tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders, and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. Main Hall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else. It's tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson, but Hilde Burgoyne's the hit of the piece. He has written a delightful part for her, and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on only two weeks, and I've been half a dozen times already. I haven't had McConnell's box for to night, where there'd be no chance of our getting places. There's everything in seeing Hilda while she's fresh and apart. She's apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination due. Hilde Burgoyne, Alexander exclaimed, mildly. Why, I haven't heard of her for years. Mainha laughed. It's only lately, since McConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she's come up. Myself. I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London, one can one expect? Do you know, Alexander? Mainhal looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom, and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger. Do you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice. But, dear me, we do need someone. Just then they drove up to the Duke of York, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainholl into the theater. When they entered the stage box on the left, the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander's attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. After all, he reflected, there's a small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn't thought of me for years. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage, there was a deep murmur of approbation. Everyone smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing. \"You see,\" he murmured at Alexander's ear, as the curtain fell on the first act. One almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish, the Burgoynes have been stage people for generations, and she has the Irish voice. It's delightful to hear it in a London theatre. She saves her hand, too. She's at her best in the second act. She's really McConnell's poetic motif, you see. Makes the whole thing a fairy tale. The second act opened before Philly Doyle's underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pothene across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches, with the first gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by main hall's sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half skeptical interest. As Main Hall had said, she was the second act. The plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 7060.0, "words": 737, "errors": 48, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Maine hall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself among them, a history of dancing, a history of costume, a key to Shakespeare sonnets. A study of the poetry of Ernest Downson, etc. although Mainhal's enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable, good nature overcame, even the people whom he bore most so that they ended up by becoming in a reluctant manner. His friends in appearance, main hall was astonishingly, like the conventional stage, Englishman of American drama, tall and thin, with high, hitching shoulders, and a small head, glistening with closely brushed, yellow hair. Main hall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else. It's tremendously well put on too Florence Merrill, and Cyril Henderson, but Hilde Burgoyne's the hit of the piece. He has written a delightful part for her, and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on only 2 weeks and I've been half a dozen times already. I haven't had McConnell's box for tonight, or there'd be no chance of our getting places. There's everything in seeing Hilda while she's fresh and apart. She's apt to grow a bit stale after a time the ones who have any imagination do. Hilda Burgoyne Alexander exclaimed, mildly why I haven't heard of her for years. Mainhal laughed. It's only lately since McConnell and his set have got hold of her that she's come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her if we had one real critic in London, one can one expect. Do you know, Alexander mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger. Do you know? I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way, it would be a sacrifice, but dear me, we do need some one just then they drove up to the duke of York, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theater. When they entered the stage box on the left, the first act was well under way, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland, as they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander's attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. After all, he reflected, there's a small probability of her recognizing me, she doubtless hasn't thought of me for years, the audience had come forewarned evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage, there was a deep murmur of approbation. Everyone smiled and glowed, and main hall hitched his heavy chair, a little nearer the brass railing. You see, he murmured at Alexander's ear as the curtain fell on the first act. One almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish. The Burgoynes have been stage people for generations, and she has the Irish voice. It's delightful to hear it in a London theater. She saves her hand too. She's at her best in the second act. She's really McConnell's poetic motif. You see makes the whole thing a fairy tale. The 2nd act opened before Philly Doyle's underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pothine across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the 1st gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by Maine hall sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half skeptical interest as Maine hall had said she was the second act. The plot and feeling alike, depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch. Upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 5476.9, "words": 804, "errors": 20, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On Sunday afternoon, Alexander remembered miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place, and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty incompetent French servant who answered the Dora and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some 20 odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh McConnell came with his sister and stood about managing his tea cup, awkwardly, and watching everyone out of his deep set, faded eyes. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party. The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts, and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah frost. The novelist came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar, who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters, he was perfectly rational, and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse. that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. American tours have spoiled them. I'm afraid they have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn't care a great deal about many of them, I fancy. Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with McConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon. He cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living room under the light of a tall desk lamp. Every one at lady Walford's was looking at it. Hilda curtsied is that why you think I'm pretty? I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I'm able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if molly had been here for I remember you don't like English cookery. Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place. I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They're quite unusual aren't they? Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artists who did them. They are all sketches made about the villad'este. You see he painted that group of cypresses for the salon. and it was bought for the Luxembourg. Alexander walked over to the bookcases. It's the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven't got anything that doesn't belong. Rooms always look better by lamplight, in London, at least, though Marie is clean, really clean, as the French are. Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning. I'm glad, said Alexander simply. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends, he added humbly. picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. Those fellows are all very loyal, even main hall. They don't talk of any one else as they do of you. Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously. I've a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It's not worth much, but I love it." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 6346.4, "words": 804, "errors": 21, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On Sunday afternoon, Alexander remembered miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place, and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty incompetent French servant who answered the Dora and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some 20 odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh McConnell came, with his sister, and stood about, managing his teacup awkwardly, and watching everyone out of his deep set, faded eyes. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party. The editor of a monthly review came with his wife and lady Kildare. The Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen. Who had come up from oxford and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts, and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah frost, the novelist came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension on other matters. He was perfectly rational, and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did and walked with them over to oxford street where they waited for their bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. American tours have spoiled them. I'm afraid they have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn't care a great deal about many of them. fancy. Alexander went back to Bedford square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with Connell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind for the rest of the week. He was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon, he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living room under the light of a tall desk lamp. Every one at lady Walford's was looking at it. Hilda curtsied. Is that why you think I'm pretty? I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It's owing to that same chance by the way that I'm able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if molly had been here for. I remember you don't like English cookery. Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place. I think this is where did you get those etchings? They're quite unusual aren't they? Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the villad'este. You see he painted that group of cypresses for the salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg. Alexander walked over to the bookcases. It's the air of the whole place here that I like you haven't got anything that doesn't belong rooms always look better by lamplight in London at least though Marie is clean really clean as the French are. Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning. I'm glad said Alexander simply I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here and to hear every one saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends. He added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. Those fellows are all very loyal even main hall. They don't talk of any one else as they do of you. Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously, I've a neat little sum in the bank too now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It's not worth much, but I love it." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 5233.2, "words": 776, "errors": 9, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the mercy were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience emerging at Euston at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Alexander had his luggage sent to the savoy and drove at once to Bedford square. She blushed and smiled, and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered a coal fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room, she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips, and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh what a grand thing to happen on a raw day. I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be sister Kate or cousin mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this come over to the fire. You're chilled through. She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl. When did you come, Bartley and how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word. I got in about 10 minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train. Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity. There's something troubling you, Bartley. What is it? Bartley bent lowered over the fire. It's the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda, you and I Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash. What about us Bartley she asked in a thin voice. He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled, and the clock ticked, and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word. Everything. Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly. touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool. I'll do anything you wish me to Bartley she said tremulously. I can't stand seeing you miserable. I can't live with myself any longer. He answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window, as if the air were heavy. Hilda watched him from the corner, trembling, and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes. It hasn't always made you miserable, has it? Her eyelids fell, and her lips quivered always, but it's worse now it's unbearable. It tortures me every minute. I am not a man who can live two lives. He went on feverishly. Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there just as it used to be, but I can't get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything. At the word deception spoken with such self contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda's face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Could you could you sit down and talk about it quietly? Bartley, as if I were a friend and not some one who had to be defied? It was myself. I was defying Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out. He looked at her, and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 8068.9, "words": 776, "errors": 11, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the mercy were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience emerging at Euston at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Alexander had his luggage sent to the savoy and drove at once to Bedford square. She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room. She felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly. That he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day. I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be sister Kate or cousin mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you Bartley, but why do you let me chatter on like this come over to the fire. You're chilled through. She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing, like a happy little girl. When did you come, Bartley and how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word. I got in about 10 minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train. Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity. There's something troubling you. Bartley What is it? Bartley bent lowered over the fire. It's the whole thing that troubles me Hilda, you and I. Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash. What about us? Bartley. She asked in a thin voice, he locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame while the coals crackled, and the clock ticked, and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word everything. Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door, then to the windows and back again to Bartley. She rose, uncertainly touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool. I'll do anything you wish me to Bartley she said tremulously. I can't stand seeing you miserable. I can't live with myself any longer. He answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy. Hilda watched him from the corner, trembling, and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes. It it hasn't always made you miserable. Has it? Her eyelids fell, and her lips quivered always, but it's worse. Now its unbearable. It tortures me every minute. I am not a man who can live two lives. He went on feverishly. Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there just as it used to be, but I can't get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything. At the word deception spoken with such self contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda's face as suddenly, if she had been struck by a whiplash, she bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Could you could you sit down and talk about it quietly? Bartley, as if I were a friend and not some one who had to be defied it was myself. I was defying Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out. He looked at her and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 3639.4, "words": 448, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 1 origin pigretta is a terrible word. It engenders a whole world, la pegre, for which red theft, and a hell, la pegrine, for which red hunger, thus idleness is the mother, she has a son theft, and a daughter hunger. Where are we at this moment in the land of slang? What is slang? It is at one and the same time a nation and a dialect. It is theft in its two kinds, people and language. It is the language of prisons, galleys, convicts, of everything that is most abominable in society. We have never understood this sort of objections. Since that time, two powerful romancers, one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart, the other, an intrepid friend of the people, Balzac and Eugene Sue, having represented their ruffians, as talking their natural language, as the author of the last day of a condemned man, did, in 1828. The same objections have been raised. People repeated, What do authors mean by that revolting dialect, slang is odious, slang makes one shudder. Who denies that? Of course it does. When it is a question of probing a wound, a gulf, a society, since when has it been considered wrong to go too far, to go to the bottom? We have always thought that it was sometimes a courageous act, and, at least, a simple and useful deed, worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted and fulfilled merits. Why should one not explore everything and study everything? Why should one halt on the way? The halt is a matter, depending on the sounding line, and not on the leads man, nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity, in the broad light of thought, of the horrible swarming of slang. It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night, which has just been torn from its cesspool. One thinks one beholds a frightful, living, and bristling thicket which quivers, rustles, wavers, returns to shadow, threatens, and glares. One word resembles éclat, another, an extinguished and bleeding eye, such, and such a phrase, seems to move like the claw of a crab. Now, when has horror ever excluded study. Since when has malady banished medicine? Can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper? The bat, the scorpion, the centipede, the tarantula, and one who would cast them back into their darkness, saying, oh, how ugly that is. He would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language. A philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity. What is slang, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 5037.6, "words": 448, "errors": 14, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 1 origin pigretta is a terrible word. It engenders a whole world, la pegre, for which red theft, and a hell, la pegrine, for which red hunger, thus. Idleness is the mother. She has a son, theft, and a daughter, hunger, where are we at this moment in the land of slang? What is slang? It is at one and the same time a nation and a dialect. It is theft in its two kinds people and language. It is the language of prisons, galleys, convicts of everything that is most. Abominable in society, we have never understood this sort of objections since that time, two powerful romancers, one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart, the other, an intrepid friend of the people Balzac. And Eugene, sue, having represented their ruffians as talking, their natural language as the author of the last day of a condemned man did in 1828. The same objections have been raised. People repeated what do authors mean by that revolting dialect slang is odious slang makes one shudder. Who denies that of course it does when it is a question of probing a wound, a society since when has it been considered wrong to go too far to go to the bottom? We have always thought that it was sometimes. A courageous act, and, at least, a simple and useful deed, worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted and fulfilled merits, why should one not explore everything and study everything? Why should one halt on the way? The halt is a matter, depending on the sounding line and not on the Leeds man. Nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation, thus in its nudity in the broad light of thought of the horrible swarming of slang. It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast, made for the night, which has just been torn from its cesspool. One thinks one beholds a frightful, living, and bristling thicket which quivers, rustles, wavers, returns to shadow. Threatens and glares, one word resembles éclat, another, an extinguished and bleeding eye. Such and such a phrase, seems to move like the claw of a crab now when. Has horror ever excluded study since when has malady banished medicine can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper, the bat, the scorpion, the centipede, the tarantula? And one who would cast them back into their darkness, saying oh how ugly that is, he would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language, a philosopher, hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity. What is slang properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 4542.9, "words": 652, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "\" Oh, it's easy enough to make a fortune,\" Henry said. \"It seems to be easier than it is, I begin to think,\" replied Philip. \"Well, why don't you go into something. You'll never dig it out of the Astor library. To the young American, here or elsewhere, the Paths to Fortune are innumerable, and all open. There is invitation in the air, and success in all his wide horizon. He is embarrassed which to choose, and is not unlikely to waste years in dowling with his chances before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object. He has no traditions to bind him or guide him, and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed, and make a new way for himself. Philip Sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself, for ten years, to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain, he felt that he could be a rich man. He wanted to be rich. He had a sincere desire for a fortune, but, for some unaccountable reason, he hesitated about addressing himself, to the narrow work of getting it. He never walked Broadway, a part of its tide of abundant shifting life, without feeling something of the flesh of wealth, and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well to do in this prosperous world. Especially at night in the crowded theater, Philip was too young to remember the old chamber street box, where the serious burden led his hilarious and pagan crew, in the intervals of the screaming comedy, when the orchestra scraped and grunted, and tooted its dissolute tunes. The world seemed full of opportunities to Philip, and his heart exulted with the conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck. Perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting, on the stage, where virtue had its reward, in three easy acts. Perhaps it was the excessive light of the house, or the music, or the buzz of the excited talk between acts, perhaps it was youth, which believed everything, but for some reason, while Philip was at the theatre, he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it. Delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire, of cheap sentiment, and high and mighty dialogue, will there not always be rosen enough for the squeaking fiddle bow? And when he advances down to the footlights, and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness, do we not all applaud, so as to drown the rest of the sentence? Philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman, with the exception named, but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man, without any exception whatsoever, is always acquitted by the jury. The fact was, though Philip Sterling did not know it, that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth. The modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement. It might be for a book, or for the skillful management of some great newspaper, or for some daring expedition like that of Lieutenant Strain, or Dr. Kane. He was unable to decide exactly what it should be. Sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit, and humbly preach the gospel of repentance. And it even crossed his mind, that it would be noble, to give himself to a missionary life, to some benighted region, where the date palm grows, and the nightingale's voice is in tune, and the bulbul sings on the off nights. Philip had a good appetite, a sunny temper, and a clear, hearty laugh." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 6678.7, "words": 652, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "\" Oh, it's easy enough to make a fortune,\" Henry said. \"It seems to be easier than it is, I begin to think,\" replied Philip. Well, why don't you go into something? You'll never dig it out of the Astor library. To the young American, here or elsewhere, the paths to fortune are innumerable, and all open. There is invitation in the air and success in all his wide horizon. He is embarrassed which to choose, and is not unlikely to waste years in dowling with his chances before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object. He has no traditions to bind him or guide him, and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed, and make a new way for himself. Philip Sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself, for ten years, to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain, he felt that he could be a rich man. He wanted to be rich. He had a sincere desire for a fortune, but for some unaccountable reason. He hesitated about addressing himself to the narrow work of getting it. He never walked Broadway, a part of its tide of abundant shifting life, without feeling something of the flesh of wealth, and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well to do in this prosperous world. Especially at night in the crowded theatre, Philip was too young to remember the old chamber of street box, where the serious burden led his hilarious and pagan crew. In the intervals of the screaming comedy, when the orchestra scraped and grunted and tooted its dissolute tunes, the world seemed full of opportunities to Philip, and his heart exulted with a conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck. Perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting, on the stage, where virtue had its reward, in three easy acts. Perhaps it was the excessive light of the house, or the music, or the buzz of the excited talk between acts, perhaps it was youth, which believed everything. But for some reason, while Philip was at the theater, he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it. Delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire, of cheap sentiment, and high and mighty dialogue, will there not always be rosen enough for the squeaking fiddle bow? And when he advances down to the footlights, and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness, do we not all applaud, so as to drown the rest of the sentence? Philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman, with the exception named, but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man, without any exception whatsoever, is always acquitted by the jury. The fact was, though Philip Sterling did not know it, that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth. The modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement. It might be for a book, work for the skillful management of some great newspaper, or for some daring expedition like that of Lieutenant Strain or Dr. Kane. He was unable to decide exactly what it should be. Sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit, and humbly preach the gospel of repentance. And it even crossed his mind that it would be noble to give himself to a missionary life to some benighted region, where the date palm grows, and the nightingale's voice is in tune, and the bulbul sings on the off nights. Philip had a good appetite, a sunny temper, and a clear, hearty laugh." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 4462.8, "words": 637, "errors": 8, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The letter that Philip sterling wrote to Ruth Bolton, on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the West, found that young lady in her own father's house in Philadelphia. It was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city, which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world, and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country, by the intrusive strip of Camden and Amboy Sand, which shuts it off from the Atlantic Ocean. It is a city of steady thrift, the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin, that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts. It was a spring morning, and perhaps it was the influence of it that made Ruth a little restless. Satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors. Her sisters had gone to the city to show some country visitors, Independence Hall, Gerard College, and Fairmount Waterworks, and Park, four objects which Americans cannot die peacefully, even in Naples, without having seen. But Ruth confessed that she was tired of them. and also of the mint. She was tired of other things. She tried, this morning, an air or two upon the piano, sang a simple song, and a sweet, but slightly metallic voice, and then, seating herself by the open window, read Philip's letter. Was she thinking about Philip, as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the tree tops to the Chelton Hills, or of that world which his entrance, into her tradition bound life, had been one of the means of opening to her? Whatever she thought, she was not idly musing, as one might see by the expression of her face. After a time, she took up a book. It was a medical work, and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen, as the statutes at large, but her face was soon aglow over its pages, and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door. Ruth? \"Well, mother,\" said the young student, looking up with a shade of impatience, \"I wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans.\" Mother, Thee knows I couldn't stand it at Westfield. The school stifled me. It's a place to turn young people into dried fruit. I know, said Margaret Bolton, with a half anxious smile. Thee chafes against all the ways of friends, but what will thee do? Why is thee so discontented? If I must say it, mother, I want to go away, and get out of this dead level. I had a visit yesterday from the society's committee, by way of discipline, because we have a piano in the house, which is against the rules. I hope thee told the elders that father and I are responsible for the piano, and that, much as thee loves music, thee is never in the room when it is played. Fortunately, father is already out of meeting, so they can't discipline him. I heard father tell Cousin Abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now. Thy ways greatly try me, Ruth, and all thy relations. I desire thy happiness, first of all, but thee is starting out on a dangerous path. Is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people? \"I have not asked him,\" Ruth replied, with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies, who first made up her own mind, and then compelled others to make up theirs, in accordance with hers." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 5742.0, "words": 637, "errors": 7, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The letter that Philip sterling wrote to Ruth Bolton, on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the West, found that young lady in her own father's house in Philadelphia. It was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city, which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world, and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country. By the intrusive strip of Camden and Amboy Sand, which shuts it off from the Atlantic Ocean. It is a city of steady thrift, the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts. It was a spring morning, and perhaps it was the influence of it that made Ruth a little restless, satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors. Her sisters had gone to the city, to show some country visitors, Independence Hall. Gerard College, and Fairmount Waterworks, and Park. Four objects which Americans cannot die peacefully, even in Naples, without having seen. But Ruth confessed that she was tired of them, and also of the mint. She was tired of other things. She tried, this morning, an air or two upon the piano, sang a simple song in a sweet but slightly metallic voice, and then... Seating herself by the open window, read Philip's letter. Was she thinking about Philip, as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the tree tops to the Chelton Hills, or of that world which his entrance, into her tradition bound life, had been one of the means of opening to her? Whatever she thought, she was not idly musing, as one might see by the expression of her face. After a time she took up a book. It was a medical work, and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen, as the statutes at large. But her face was soon aglow over its pages, and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door. Ruth? \"Well, mother,\" said the young student, looking up with a shade of impatience. I wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans. Mother, thee knows I couldn't stand it at Westfield. The school stifled me. It's a place to turn young people into dried fruit. \"I know,\" said Margaret Bolton, with a half anxious smile, \"thee chafes against all the ways of friends, but what will thee do? Why is thee so discontented? \"If I must say it, mother, I want to go away and get out of this dead level.\" I had a visit yesterday from the Society's Committee, by way of discipline, because we have a piano in the house, which is against the rules. I hope thee told the elders that father and I are responsible for the piano, and that, much as thee loves music, thee is never in the room when it is played. Fortunately, father is already out of meeting, so they can't discipline him. I heard father tell Cousin Abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy, that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now. Thy ways greatly try me, Ruth, and all thy relations. I desire thy happiness, first of all, but thee is starting out on a dangerous path. Is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people? \"I have not asked him,\" Ruth replied, with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies, who first made up her own mind, and then compelled others to make up theirs, in accordance with hers." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 4644.7, "words": 638, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke at first so sound her sleep had been that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy, but that she was unhappy. She well recollected when the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again, but it was impossible, though her rest had been sound. It had not been refreshing. She was far from well and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered. Mr. Sandford shook his head. Miss Milner's health is not good, said Mrs. Horton, a few minutes after. Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her. \"So there is to me,\" added Sanford, with a sarcastic sneer. \"And so there is to me,\" said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered their sentiments. And when they were all silent, he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences. Soon after breakfast, Mr. Sandford withdrew to his own apartment. Mrs Horton, in a little time, went to hers. Lord Elmwood and Miss Woodley were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat, and said, \"I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I did not choose to tell her so, before Mr. Sandford, in giving Lord Frederick an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renew his addresses. \"That I am certain,\" replied Miss Woodley. She does not mean, and I assure you, my lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage. I am glad to hear it,\" he returned quickly, \"for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet, in regard to her affections for him, I cannot but still have my doubts. You need have none, my lord, replied Miss Woodley, with a smile of confidence, and yet you must own her behavior has warranted them. Has it not been, in this particular, incoherent and unaccountable? \"The behavior of a person in love, no doubt,\" answered Miss Woodley. \"Don't I say so,\" replied he warmly, \"and is not that a just reason for my suspicions?\" But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix?\" said Miss Woodley, with the color mounting into her face. \"Not that I know of, not one more that I know of,\" he replied, with astonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong. Perhaps I am mistaken, answered she. I believe I am perfectly acquainted with them, replied Miss Woodley, with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn. After a hesitation. It is far from me, replied he, to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me, much less would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask any more questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet, I cannot but lament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove my friendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me, and every step that I take for her happiness. I take in the most perplexing uncertainty. Miss Woodley sighed, but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for her reply, but as she made none, he proceeded. If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated, I certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorize it as the present." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 6225.9, "words": 638, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke at first so sound her sleep had been that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy, but that she was unhappy. She well recollected. When the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again, but it was impossible, though her rest had been sound. It had not been refreshing. She was far from well and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered. Mr. Sandford shook his head. Miss Milner's health is not good, said missus Horton, a few minutes after lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her. So there is to me, added Sandford, with a sarcastic sneer. And so there is to me, said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each as each delivered their sentiments, and when they were all silent, he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences. Soon after breakfast, mister Sandford withdrew to his own apartment missus Horton in a little time, went to hers, lord Elmwood, and miss Woodley were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat and said. I think miss Woodley miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I did not choose to tell her so before mister Sandford, in giving lord Frederick an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renew his addresses. \"That I am certain,\" replied Miss Woodley. \"She does not mean, and I assure you, my lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her, to her carriage.\" I am glad to hear it, he returned quickly, for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot, but still have my doubts. \"You need have none, my lord,\" replied Miss Woodley, with a smile of confidence, \"and yet you must own her behavior has warranted them. Has it not been in this particular, incoherent, and unaccountable? The behavior of a person in love, no doubt, answered miss Woodley. Don't I say so replied he warmly, and is not that a just reason for my suspicions? But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix, said Miss Woodley, with a color mounting into her face? Not that I know of, not one more that I know of, he replied, with astonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong. Perhaps I am mistaken, answered she. I believe I am perfectly acquainted with them, replied miss Woodley, with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn. After a hesitation. \"It is far from me,\" replied he, \"to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me, much less would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask any more questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet? I cannot, but lament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove my friendship to miss Milner, but she will not suffer me, and every step that I take for her happiness. I take in the most perplexing uncertainty. Miss Woodley sighed, but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for her reply, but as she made none, he proceeded, if ever breach of confidence could be tolerated. I certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorize it as the present." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 5221.0, "words": 703, "errors": 50, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Carey children had only found it by accident. All their errands took them down the main street to the village to the Pophams cottage at the foot of a little lane, turning toward the river or on to the post office and bill Harmon store or to colonel wheeler's house, and then to the railway station. One afternoon. Nancy and Kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastors new and had spied down in a distant hollow, a gloomy grey house, almost surrounded by cedars, a grove of poplars to the left of it, only made the prospect more depressing. And if it had not been for a great sheet of water near by, floating with cow lilies and pond lilies, the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary. You won't never see nothing of em, said Mr. Popham, Henry Lord ain't never darkened the village for years, I guess, and the young ones ain't never been to school so far. They have a teacher out from Portland Tuesdays and Fridays, and the rest of the week they study up for him. Henry's bout as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mounting, and he's bringing up the children so they'll be just as odd as he is. Is the mother dead, Mrs. Carey asked? Yes, dead these four years, and a good job for her too. It's an awful queer world. Not that I could make a better one. I Allers say when folks grumble. Now, if you was giving the materials. Could you turn out a better world than this 'n and when it come to that? What if you heed to furnish your own materials same as the lord did? I guess you'd be put to it. Well, as I say it's an awful queer world. They clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife beaters. I Allers thought a gentle reproof would be enough punishment for a wife beater, 'cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows. And the fire bugs can't think of the right name something like incendiaries. And the breakers of the peace, and what not, and yet the law has nothing to say to a man like handlord, doctor of what asked missus Carey. Blamed if I know, I wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat. People don't have to be doctors of medicine, interrupted Gilbert. Grandfather was Alexander Carey, l l d, doctor of laws, that is, mister Popham laid down his brush. I swain to man, he ejaculated, if you don't work hard, you can't keep up with the times doctor of laws. Well, all I can say is, they need doctoring, and I'm glad they got round to him, only Han lord ain't the man to do him any good. What has he done to make him so unpopular queried missus. Done. He ain't done a thing he orter since he was born. He keeps the thou shalt not commandments first rate hen lord does. He neglected his wife, and froze her blood, and frightened her to death. Poor little shadder. He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so'n he couldn't study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper, which Osh always alluded to as the white maria, whether in memory of his wife's Christian name, or, because his French accent, was not up to the mark, no one could say. Mr. Popham exaggerated nothing, but, on the contrary, left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the House of Lords. Henry Lord, with a degree of PhD to his credit, had been Professor of Zoology at a New England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific text books. Always irritable, cold, indifferent, he had grown rapidly more so, as years went on." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 6529.4, "words": 703, "errors": 43, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Carey children had only found it by accident. All their errands took them down the main street to the village to the Pophams cottage at the foot of a little lane, turning toward the river or on to the post office and bill Harmon store or to colonel wheeler's house, and then to the railway station. One afternoon, Nancy and Kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastors new and had spied down in a distant hollow, a gloomy gray house almost surrounded by cedars, a grove of poplars to the left of it only made the prospect more depressing. And if it had not been for a great sheet of water near by floating with cow lilies and pond lilies, the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary. \"You won't never see nothing of 'em,\" said Mr. Popham. Henry Lord ain't never darkened the village for years. I guess, and the young ones ain't never been to school so far. They have a teacher out from Portland Tuesdays and Fridays and the rest of the week they study up for him. Henry's bout as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mounting and he's bringing up the children so they'll be just as odd as he is is the mother dead missus. Carey asked. Yes, dead these four years and a good job for her too. It's an awful queer world not that I could make a better one. I Allers say when folks grumble. Now, if you was giving the materials, could you turn out a better world than this un and when it come to that? What if you he'd to furnish your own materials same as the lord did? I guess you'd be put to it. Well, as I say, it's an awful queer world they clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife beaters. I Allers thought a gentle reproof would be enough punishment for a wife beater cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows. And the fire bugs can't think of the right name, something like incendiaries and the breakers of the piece and what not and yet the law has nothing to say to a man like hand, lord doctor of what asked missus Carey. Blamed if I know, I wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat. People don't have to be doctors of medicine interrupted. Gilbert. Grandfather was Alexander Carey, l l d doctor of laws that is mister Popham laid down his brush. I swain to man, he ejaculated if you don't work hard, you can't keep up with the times doctor of laws. Well, all I can say is they need doctoring and I'm glad they got round to em only Han lord ain't the man to do em any good. What has he done to make him so unpopular queried missus? Carey done? He ain't done a thing he Order since he was born. He keeps the thou shalt not commandments. First rate hen, lord does. He neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death. Poor little shadder. He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so he could study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper, which Osh always alluded to as the white maria. Whether in memory of his wife's Christian name, or because his French accent was not up to the mark, no one could say, mister Popham exaggerated nothing, but on the contrary, left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the house of lords. Henry lord, with a degree of ph d to his credit had been professor of zoology at a new England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific text books. Always irritable, cold, indifferent, he had grown rapidly more so as years went on." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 4788.0, "words": 631, "errors": 19, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through cousin Ann's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frosts could not affect them. Natty Harmon tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening for the water had to run uphill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink, and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment the stove in the cellar, always alluded to by Gilbert as the young furnace had not yet been used. Save by way of experiment, but it was believed to be a perfect success. To night. There was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearth stones. They began with the one in the family sitting room. Colonel Wheeler, Ralph Thurston, mister, and missus Bill Harmon with Natty, and Ruffus, mister, and missus Popham with Digby, and Lally Joy, all standing in admiring groups, and thrilling with delight at the order of events. Mother Carey sat by the fireplace. Little peter fairly radiant with excitement, leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand. When ye come into a house, salut it, and if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it to all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation, may it be a house of God, a gate of heaven, for every house is builded by some man, but he that build all things is God, seeing that he giveth to every one of us life, and breath, and all good things. Mother Carey spoke these words so simply and naturally, as she looked toward her neighbors, one after another, with her hand resting on peter's curly head. That they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say amen. Was that the Bible? Osh whispered bill Harmon, don't know most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me in the hush that followed mother Carey salutation. Gilbert approached with the basket over his arm and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass and irons in the hearth. Then Nancy handed peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying, To light this fire, I give you a torch. In it are herbs of the field for health of a body, a fern leaf for grace, a sprig of elm for peace, one of oak for strength, with evergreen to show that we live forever in the deeds we have done. Kathleen waved the torch to and fro as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to night. Burn, fire, burn, flicker, flicker, flame, whose hand above this blaze is lifted, shall be with touch of magic gifted, to warm the hearts of chilly mortals, who stand without these open portals. The touch shall draw them to this fire, nigher, nigher, by desire, Whoso shall stand on this hearthstone, flame fanned, shall never, never stand alone, Whose home is dark and drear and old, Whose hearth is cold. This is his own flicker, flicker, flicker flame. Next came olive's turn to help in the ceremonies. Ralph Thurston had found a line of Latin for them in his beloved horrence tibi splendet focus for you the hearth fire shines. Olive had painted the motto on a long, narrow panel of canvas, and giving it to mister Popham, stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place prepared for it. The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the center of attraction. But he was as dumb as peter and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 6873.0, "words": 631, "errors": 16, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through cousin Ann's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frosts could not affect them. Natty Harmon tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening. For the water had to run up hill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink, and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment the stove in the cellar, always alluded to by Gilbert as the young furnace had not yet been used, save by way of experiment. But it was believed to be a perfect success to night. There was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearth stones. They began with the one in the family sitting room. Colonel wheeler, Ralph, Thurston, mister, and missus bill, Harmon, with natty, and ruffus. Mister and missus Popham with Digby and Lally Joy, all standing in admiring groups and thrilling with delight at the order of events. Mother Carey sat by the fireplace. Little peter fairly radiant with excitement. Leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand, when ye come into a house, saluted, and if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it to all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation, may it be a house of god a gate of heaven. For every house is builded by some man, but he that built all things is god seeing that he giveth to every one of us life and breath and all good things. Mother Carey spoke these words so simply and naturally, as she looked toward her neighbors, one after another, with her hand resting on peter's curly head that they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say amen. Was that the Bible Osh whispered bill Harmon don't know most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me. In the hush that followed mother, Carey salutation, Gilbert approached with the basket over his arm and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass andirons in the hearth. Then Nancy handed peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying to light this fire. I give you a torch in it are herbs of the field for health of the body, a fern leaf for grace, a sprig of elm for peace, one of oak for strength with evergreen to show that we live forever in the deeds we have done. Kathleen waved the torch to and fro as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to night, burn fire, burn, flicker, flicker, flame. Whose hand above this blaze is lifted shall be with touch of magic gifted to warm the hearts of chilly mortals, who stand without these open portals, the touch shall draw them to this fire, nigher, nigher by desire. Whoso shall stand on this hearthstone, flame fanned, shall never never stand alone, whose home is dark and drear and old, whose hearth is cold. This is his own flicker, flicker, flicker flame. Next came olive's turn to help in the ceremonies. Ralph Thurston had found a line of Latin for them, and his beloved Horrence tibby splendet focus for you. The hearth fire shines. Olive had painted the motto on a long, narrow panel of canvas, and giving it to mister Popham stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place, prepared for it. The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the center of attraction, but he was as dumb as peter, and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 4686.8, "words": 648, "errors": 21, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Captain servadac, and his orderly at the time of which I write, there might be seen in the registers of the minister of war, the following entry property Fr.1200 and rent us length of service 14 years, three months, and five days rank captain on the staff at mostagnam. Hector servadac was 30 years of age, an orphan without lineage, and almost without means thirsting for glory rather than for gold, slightly scatter brained, but warm hearted, generous and brave. He was eminently formed to be the protégé of the god of battles. For the first year and a half of his existence, he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine dresser of Medoc, a lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess. In a word, he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things, and around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck. In appearance, Hector servadac was quite the type of an officer. He was rather more than 5 feet 6 inches high, slim and graceful, with dark curling hair and mustaches, well formed hands and feet, and a clear blue eye. He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed. It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order. We don't spin tops is a favorite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits, but it must be confessed that Servadac, being naturally idle, was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draughtsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famous Uncle Tom at the riding school of St. Cyr, and in the records of his military service. His name had several times been included in the order of the day. Once, in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment. In an instant, servadac, mounted the sidewalk, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body, shouted march on, and through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer. The troop passed in safety. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore. And sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff. Altogether, being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. Captain servadac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment of rivals. He was well aware he had not a few, and amongst these, not the least formidable was the Russian count timascheff, and although the young widow was all unconscious of the share she had in the matter, it was she, and she alone, who was the cause of the challenge just given and accepted by her two ardent admirers. During his residence in the girby hector servadac's sole companion was his orderly, ben zoof. Ben zoof was devoted, body and soul, to his superior officer. His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria, but such was by no means the case. In all his travels, and these had been not a few. He had never beheld scenery, which could compete with that of his native home. No cathedral, not even Burgos itself could vie with the church at Montmartre. Its racecourse could well hold its own against that of pentaleek. Its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade. Its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flour, but provided material for cakes of world wide renown." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 6305.8, "words": 648, "errors": 24, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Captain servadac and his orderly at the time of which I write, there might be seen in the registers of the minister of war, the following entry property Fr.1200 and rent us. Length of service 14 years, three months and five days rank captain on the staff at mostaignam hector servadac was 30 years of age. An orphan without lineage, and almost without means thirsting for glory rather than for gold, slightly scatter brained, but warm hearted, generous and brave, he was eminently formed to be the protégé of the god of battles. For the first year and a half of his existence, he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine dresser of medoc, a lineal descendent of the heroes of ancient prowess. In a word he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things. And around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck in appearance, hector servadac was quite the type of an officer. He was rather more than 5'6\" high, slim and graceful with dark curling hair and mustaches, well formed hands and feet and a clear blue eye. He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed. It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order. We don't spin tops is a favorite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits, but it must be confessed that servadac being naturally idle was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draftsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famous uncle tom at the riding school of saint Cyr. And in the records of his military service, his name had several times been included in the order of the day once in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment in an instant servadac, mounted the side work, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body, shouted march on. And through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer, the troop passed in safety. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore, and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff altogether, being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. Captain servadac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment of rivals. He was well aware he had not a few, and amongst these not the least formidable was the Russian count timascheff. And although the young widow was all unconscious of the share, she had in the matter, it was she, and she alone, who was the cause of the challenge, just given and accepted by her too ardent admirers during his residence in the girby hector servadac's sole companion was his orderly ben zoof. Ben zoof was devoted body and soul to his superior officer. His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria, but such was by no means the case in all his travels, and these had been not a few. He had never beheld scenery, which could compete with that of his native home. No cathedral, not even Burgos itself could vie with the church at Montmartre. Its racecourse could well hold its own against that of Pentaleek. Its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade. Its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flower, but provided material for cakes of world wide renown." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 5272.0, "words": 627, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Inquiries, unsatisfied fast as his legs could carry him, servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff, it was quite true that a vessel was in sight, hardly more than 6 miles from the shore, but owing to the increase in the earth's convexity, and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the rigging of the topmasts alone was visible above the water. This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight. The dobrina exclaimed servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope. Impossible, sir, rejoined ben zoof, there are no signs of smoke. The dobrina repeated the captain positively. She is under sail, but she is count timascheff's yacht. He was right. If the count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could Servadac regard him in the light of an adversary. Circumstances had changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events. During the twenty seven days that she had been absent. The Dobrina, he conjectured, would have explored the Mediterranean, would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to Gourbi Island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning its cause. Count Timascheff was no doubt magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly. The wind being adverse, the Dobrina did not make very rapid progress, but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and the sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoiter the new island, which must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted. Servadac took it for granted that the dobrina was endeavoring to put in. It occurred to him, however, that the count, on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. Zephyr and Gillette were soon saddled, and in 20 minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast. They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point, there was a small, well sheltered creek, of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in the roughest weather, would insure the calmness of its waters. What, however, seemed most remarkable, was the manifest evidence, that ever since the highest flood, which was caused, in all probability, by the proximity of the body, of which the huge disk had been so conspicuous, on the night of the 31st of December, the phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and, in fact, was now reduced to the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion. Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servadac turned his entire attention to the dobrina, which, now little more than a mile from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsman, soon carried nothing but her two topsails, brigantine and jib." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 7334.0, "words": 627, "errors": 16, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Inquiries, unsatisfied, fast as his legs could carry him servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff, it was quite true that a vessel was in sight. Hardly more than 6 miles from the shore, but owing to the increase in the earth's convexity and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the rigging of the topmasts alone was visible above the water. This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when two hours later she came entirely in sight. The dobrina exclaimed servadac. Keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope, impossible, sir, rejoined ben zoof there are no signs of smoke. The dobrina repeated the captain positively she is under sail, but she is count timascheff's yacht. He was right. If the count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival, but no longer now could servadac regard him in the light of an adversary. Circumstances had changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events. During the 27 days that she had been absent, the dobrina he conjectured would have explored the Mediterranean would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to gourbi island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning its cause count timascheff was no doubt magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly. The wind being adverse, the dobrina did not make very rapid progress, but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds remained calm, and the sea was quite smooth. She was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine. As whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoiter the new island, which must just have come within their view, the probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted. Servadac took it for granted that the dobrina was endeavoring to put in. It occurred to him, however, that the count, on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa. Would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage zephyr and Galet were soon saddled, and in 20 minutes, had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast. They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point, there was a small well sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in the roughest weather would ensure the calmness of its waters, what, however, seemed most remarkable was the manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood. Which was caused in all probability by the proximity of the body of which the huge disk had been so conspicuous on the night of 31 December, the phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to the normal limits, which had characterized it before the convulsion. Without doing more than note the circumstance, servadac turned his entire attention to the dobrina, which, now little more than a mile from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsman. Soon carried nothing, but her two topsails, brigantine and jib." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 5735.7, "words": 655, "errors": 17, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The dobrina, a strong craft of 200 tons burden had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the isle of wight. Her sea going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe. Count timascheff was himself no sailor, but had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of lieutenant Procope, a man of about 30 years of age, and an excellent seaman born on the count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the emperor Alexander. Procope was sincerely attached by a tie of gratitude, as well as of duty and affection to his patron service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant ship, he had entered the imperial navy, and had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time. throughout the winter, generally cruising in the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer, he visited more northern waters. The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend who had given him his education. These men, without exception, were all sons of the count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his own anxiety. Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a favorable wind, she would certainly have made 11 kn an hour, had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's attraction, rendering the liquid particles so buoyant that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented. For a few miles, she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria. But no land appeared to the south. Happily, the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass, the magnetic needle, which, in these regions, had pointed about 22° from the north pole, had never deviated in the least, a proof that, although east and west had apparently changed places north and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points, the log and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly useless. On the first morning of the cruise, lieutenant Procope, who, like most Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining these peculiarities to captain servadac. The count was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them all. It is very evident, said the lieutenant, that ever since 1 January, the earth has been moving in a new orbit, and from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the sun, no doubt about that, said servadac, and I suppose that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of mercury, and finish up by a collision with the sun, added the count. There's no fear of that, sir, the earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she has not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated on to the sun. Can you satisfy us of that asked the count? I can, sir." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 7115.2, "words": 655, "errors": 17, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The dobrina, a strong craft of 200 tons burden had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the isle of wight. Her sea going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe. Count timascheff was himself no sailor. But had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of lieutenant Procope, a man of about 30 years of age, and an excellent seaman born on the count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the emperor Alexander Procope was sincerely attached. By a tie of gratitude, as well as of duty and affection to his patron service after an apprenticeship on a merchant ship, he had entered the imperial navy. And had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time throughout the winter, generally cruising in the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer, he visited more northern waters The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his attainments were alike creditable to himself, and the liberal friend who had given him his education. These men, without exception, were all sons of the count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they cling to their old traditions that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his own anxiety. Steam up and canvas spread the schooner started eastwards with a favorable wind. She would certainly have made 11 kn an hour had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress although only a moderate breeze was blowing. The sea was rough. A circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth attraction, rendering the liquid particles, so buoyant that by the mere effect of oscillation, they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented. For a few miles. She followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria. But no land appeared to the south happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass. The magnetic needle, which, in these regions had pointed about 22° from the north pole had never deviated in the least a proof that although east and west had apparently changed places. North and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log and the compass, therefore were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly useless. On the first morning of the cruise, lieutenant Procope, who, like most Russians spoke French fluently was explaining these peculiarities to captain servadac. The count was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred as naturally it would to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them. All it is very evident, said the lieutenant that ever since the 1 January. The earth has been moving in a new orbit. And from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the sun, no doubt about that said servadac, and I suppose that having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of mercury. And finish up by a collision with the sun, added the count. There's no fear of that, sir, the earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated on to the sun. Can you satisfy us of that asked the count? I can, sir." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 4084.1, "words": 823, "errors": 15, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "At another time, Harold asked, what is your country, Olaf, have you always been a thrall? The thrall's eyes flashed there far off is my country across the water. My father was gudbrand the big. Two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle. 10 sons sat at meat with him, and I was the youngest. One day he said, you are all grown to be men, and there's not elbow room here for so many chiefs. The eldest of you shall have my farm when I die. The rest of you, off a Viking. He had three ships. These he gave to three of my brothers. But I stayed that spring and built me a boat. I made her for only twenty oars because I thought few men would follow me, for I was young, fifteen years old. But I made her in the likeness of a dragon. At the prow I carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out. I painted the eyes red for anger. There, stand so, I said, and glare and hiss at my foes. In the stern, I carved the tail up almost as high as the head. There I put the pilot seat, and a strong tiller for the rudder. On the breast and sides I carved the dragon's scales. There she sat on the rollers, as fair a ship as I ever saw. This is my vow. I will sail to Norway, and I will harry the coast, and fill my boat with riches. Then I will get me a farm, and we'll winter in that land. Now, who will follow me? \"He is but a boy,\" the man said. Thirty men, one after another, raised their horns, and said. On the next morning we got into my dragon and started. I sat high in the pilot's seat. As our boat flashed down the rollers into the water. I made this song and sang it. The dragon runs. Where will she steer, where swords will sing, Where spears will bite, where I shall laugh? So we harried the coast of Norway. We ate at many men's tables uninvited. Many men we found overburdened with gold. Then I said, My dragon's belly is never full, and on board went the gold. Oh, it is better to live on the sea, and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals. A house smells of smoke, a ship smells of frolic. From a house you see a sooty roof. From a ship you see Valhalla, up and down the water we went, to get much wealth and much frolic. What of the farm, Olaf? Not yet, I answered. Viking is better for summer. It was so dark that I could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth. I stood with my back to the wall, for I wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me. \"Now start up the fire,\" I said. \"Come, come,\" I called, when no one obeyed. A fire. My men laughed. Yes, a stingy host. He acts as though he had not expected us. But now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood. On a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together. \"Ho, thralls,\" I called to them, \"Bring in the table. We are hungry. What man wants to spend the winter with no guests? The thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat. They set up a crane over the fire, and hung the pot upon it, and we sat and watched it boil while we joked. At last the supper began. The farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat. And you cannot wonder, for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths. You would not eat with us. You cannot say no to half of my ale. I'd drink this to your health. Then I drank half of the hornful, and set the rest across the fire to the farmer. He took it and smiled, saying, I thought that all this night's work would be my death. Oh, do not fear that, I laughed, for a dead man sets no tables. So we drank, and all grew merrier. At last I stood up and said, \"Come,\" they cried, \"thank him for that, farmer, did you ever have such a lordly guest before?\" I went on, so I will give out this law, that my men shall never leave you alone. Haakon there shall be your constant companion, friend farmer, he shall not leave you day or night, whether you are working, or playing, or sleeping. I named nine others, and said, And these shall follow your thralls in the same way. So I set guards over everyone in that house." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 6060.3, "words": 823, "errors": 19, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "At another time, Harold asked, what is your country, Olaf, have you always been a thrall? The thrall's eyes flashed there far off is my country across the water. My father was gudbrand the big. Two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle. 10 sons sat at meat with him, and I was the youngest one day he said, you are all grown to be men, and there is not elbow room here for so many chiefs. The eldest of you shall have my farm when I die, the rest of you off a Viking. He had three ships, these he gave to three of my brothers, but I stayed that spring and built me a boat. I made her for only twenty oars, because I thought few men would follow me, for I was young, fifteen years old, but I made her in the likeness of a dragon. At the prow, I carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out. I painted the eyes red for anger. There, stand so, I said, and glare and hiss at my foes. In the stern, I carved the tail up almost as high as the head there, I put the pilot seat and a strong tiller for the rudder on the breast and sides. I carved the dragon scales. There she sat on the rollers as fair a ship as I ever saw. This is my vow. I will sail to Norway, and I will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches. Then I will get me a farm and will winter in that land. Now, who will follow me? He is, but a boy, the man said, 30 men, one after another, raised their horns and said on the next morning we got into my dragon and started. I sat high in the pilot seat. As our boat flashed down the rollers into the water, I made this song and sang it. The dragon runs. Where will she steer, where swords will sing, where spears will bite, where I shall laugh, so we harried the coast of Norway. We ate at many men's tables uninvited. Many men we found overburdened with gold. Then I said, My dragon's belly is never full, and on board went the gold. Oh, it is better to live on the sea, and let other men raise your crops, and cook your meals. A house smells of smoke, a ship smells of frolic. From a house you see a sooty roof. From a ship, you see Valhalla up and down the water, we went to get much wealth and much frolic. What of the farm Olaf not yet I answered. Viking is better for summer. It was so dark that I could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth. I stood with my back to the wall, for I wanted no sword, reaching out of the dark for me. Now start up the fire, I said. Come, come, I called, when no one obeyed. A fire. My men laughed. Yes, a stingy host. He acts as though he had not expected us, but now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood. On a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together. Oh, thralls, I call to them, bring in the table, we are hungry. What man wants to spend the winter with no guests. The thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat. They set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it, and we sat and watched it boil while we joked. At last the supper began. The farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat, and you cannot wonder, for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths. You would not eat with us. You cannot say no to half of my ale. I drink this to your health. Then I drank half of the hornful and set the rest to cross the fire to the farmer. He took it and smiled, saying I thought that all this night's work would be my death. Oh, do not fear that I laughed for a dead man sets no tables so we drank and all grew merrier. At last, I stood up and said come, they cried, thank him for that farmer. Did you ever have such a lordly guest before I went on, so I will give out this law that my men shall never leave you alone. Haakon, there shall be your. Constant companion, friend farmer, he shall not leave you day or night, whether you are working or playing or sleeping. I name nine others and said, and these shall follow your thralls in the same way. So I set guards over, everyone in that house." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 5626.0, "words": 810, "errors": 27, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My spirits sank as I looked round me. supper time was still an event in the future. I lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what I firmly believed to have been the first French novel ever produced at Morwick farm. It was one of the masterly and charming stories of Dumas, the elder in five minutes. I was in a new world, and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest French company. The sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell, recalled me in due time to the regions of reality. I looked at my watch 9 o'clock. Ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper room. Mr. Meadowcroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table. On his right hand side, sat a sad and silent daughter. She signed to me, with a ghostly solemnity, to take the vacant place on the left of her father. The door opened again while I was still studying the two brothers, without, I honestly confessed, being very favorably impressed by either of them. A new member of the family circle, who instantly attracted my attention, entered the room. A little cracked, that, in the popular phrase, was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper room. Mr. Meadowcroft, the elder, having not spoken one word thus far, himself introduced the newcomer to me, with a side glance at his sons, which had something like defiance in it, a glance which, as I was sorry to notice, was returned with defiance on their side by the two young men. \"Philip Le Frank, this is my overlooker, Mr. Jago,\" said the old man, formally presenting us, \"he is not well. He has come over the ocean for rest, and change is scene. Mr. Jago is an American, Philip. I hope you have no prejudice against Americans. Make acquaintance with Mr. Jago. Sit together. They pointedly drew back from John Jago, as he approached the empty chair next to me, and move round to the opposite side of the table. Was the young lady, Naomi Colebrook? I looked at Ambrose and saw the answer in his face. Naomi Colebrook at last. A pretty girl, and so far as I could judge by appearances, a good girl, too, describing her generally, I may say that she had a small head, well carried, and well set on her shoulders, bright gray eyes, that looked at you honestly, and meant what they looked, a trim, slight little figure. too slight for our English notions of beauty, a strong American accent, and a rare thing in America, a pleasantly toned voice, which made the accent agreeable to English ears. Our first impressions of people are, in nine cases out of 10, the right impressions. For once in a way, I proved a true prophet. Ambrose made room for Naomi to sit between his brother and himself. The only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between Naomi and me. He looked up at Naomi doubtingly from his plate, and looked down again slowly, with a frown. When I addressed him, he answered constrainedly. By way of making my first evening at the farm, all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger, I discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other, through Mr. Jago, and through me. Every time she took a prominent part in this way, and keeping the peace, melancholy Miss Meadowcroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference. A more dreary and more disunited family party. I never sat at the table with, envy, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness, are never so essentially detestable to my mind, as when they are animated by the sense of propriety, and work under the surface. But for my interest in Naomi, and my other interest in the little love looks which I now and then surprised passing between her and Ambrose, I should never have sat through that supper. I wish you good night. She laid her bony hands on the back of Mr. Meadowcroft's invalid chair, cut him short in his farewell salutation to me, and wheeled him out to his bed as if she were wheeling him out to his grave. Do you go to your room immediately, sir? If not, may I offer you a cigar, provided the young gentleman will permit it? So picking his words with painful deliberation, and pointing his reference to the young gentleman, with one sardonic side look at them. Mr. John Yago perform the duties of hospitality on his side. I excuse myself from accepting the cigar. \"You were quite right to say no,\" Ambrose began. Never smoke with Johnny Iago. His cigars will poison you." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 8101.5, "words": 810, "errors": 23, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My spirits sank as I looked round me. supper time was still an event in the future. I lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what I firmly believed to have been the first French novel ever produced at Morwick farm. It was one of the masterly and charming stories of Dumas, the elder in five minutes. I was in a new world, and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest French company. The sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell, recalled me in due time to the regions of reality. I looked at my watch. 9 o'clock Ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper room. Mister Meadowcroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table on his right hand side, sat a sad and silent daughter. She signed to me with a ghostly solemnity to take the vacant place on the left of her father. The door opened again while I was still studying the two brothers without I honestly confessed being very favorably impressed by either of them, a new member of the family circle, who instantly attracted my attention, entered the room, a little cracked. That, in the popular phrase, was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper room, mister Meadowcroft, the elder, having not spoken one word thus far himself, introduced the newcomer to me with a side glance at his sons, which had something like defiance in it, a glance, which, as I was sorry to notice, was returned with a defiance on their side by the. Two young men. Philip Le Frank, this is my overlooker, Mr. Jago, said the old man, formally presenting us. He is not well. He has come over the ocean for rest, and change is scene. Mr. Jago is an American Philip. I hope you have no prejudice against Americans. Make acquaintance with mister Jago sit together. They pointedly drew back from John Jago as he approached the empty chair next to me and moved round to the opposite side of the table was the young lady Naomi Colebrook. I looked at Ambrose and saw the answer in his face. Naomi Colebrook at last, a pretty girl, and so far as I could judge by appearances, a good girl too, describing her, generally, I may say that she had a small head, well carried and well set on her shoulders, bright gray eyes that looked at you honestly and meant what they looked a trim, slight little figure. Too slight for our English notions of beauty, a strong American accent, and a rare thing in America, a pleasantly toned voice, which made the accent agreeable to English ears. Our first impressions of people are, in 9 cases out of 10, the right impressions for once in a way, I proved a true prophet. Ambrose made room for Naomi to sit between his brother and himself. The only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between Naomi and me. He looked up at Naomi doubtingly from his plate and looked down again slowly with a frown. When I addressed him, he answered constrainedly by way of making my first evening at the farm, all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger. I discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other through mister Iago and through me. Every time she took a prominent part in this way, and keeping the peace, melancholy miss Meadowcroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference, a more dreary, and more disunited family party. I never sat at table with. Envy, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness are never so essentially detestable to my mind as when they are animated by the sense of propriety and work under the surface, but for my interest in Naomi, and my other interest in the little love looks, which I now and then surprised passing between her and Ambrose. I should never have sat through that supper. I wish you good night. She laid her bony hands on the back of mister Meadowcroft's invalid chair, cut him short in his farewell salutation to me, and wheeled him out to his bed, as if she were wheeling him out to his grave. Do you go to your room immediately, sir? If not, may I offer you a cigar provided? The young gentleman will permit it so picking his words with painful deliberation, and pointing his reference to the young gentleman with one sardonic side look at them. Mr. John Yago performed the duties of hospitality on his side. I excuse myself from accepting the cigar. You were quite right to say no. Ambrose began. Never smoke with Johnnyago. His cigars will poison you." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 6050.4, "words": 670, "errors": 21, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Eleven o'clock had struck. It was a fine clear night. They were the only persons on the road, and they sauntered leisurely along, to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation, provided for the Toledans in the valley, or on the banks of their river, secure, as he thought, in the careful administration of justice in that city, and the character of its well disposed inhabitants. The good hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family. This young cavalier, whose real name we shall, for good reasons, conceal under that of Rudolpho. was abroad that night with four of his companions, insolent young roisters like himself, and happened to be coming down a hill, as the old hidalgo and his family were ascending it. The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rodolfo and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter, and the servant maid. The old hidalgo indignantly remonstrated. They answered him with mocks and jeers, and passed on. But Rudolpho had been struck, by the great beauty of Leocadia, the hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards. In a moment, he communicated his thoughts to his companions. And in the next moment, they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please Rodolpho. For the rich, who are open handed, always find parricides ready to encourage their bad propensities, and thus to conceive this wicked design, to communicate it, approve it, resolve on ravishing Leocadia, and to carry that design into effect, was the work of a moment. They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back, and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. Her father shouted, Her mother shrieked, her little brother cried, the servant maid tore her own face and hair, but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded, the wailing moved no pity, the clawing and scratching was of no avail, for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot. The silence of the night, and the cruel hearts of the ravishers. Finally, the one party went off exulting, and the other was left in desolation and woe. Rodolpho arrived at his own house, without any impediment, and Leocadia's parents reached theirs, heart broken and despairing. Meanwhile, Rudolfo had Leucadia safe in his custody, and in his own apartment. When Leocadia fainted in his arms, he had bandished her eyes, in order that she might not notice the streets through which she passed, or the house into which he took her, and before she recovered her senses, he affected his guilty purpose. Apathy and disgust commonly follows satiated lust. Rudolpho was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was. \"Who touches me? Am I in bed? Mother, dear father, do you hear me? Alas, too well, I perceive that you cannot hear me, and that I am in the hands of enemies. Whoever thou art,\" she exclaimed, suddenly seizing Rudolpho's hand, \"if thy soul is capable of pity, grant me one prayer. Having deprived me of honor, now deprive me of life, let me not survive my disgrace. In mercy kill me this moment. It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me. Confused by the vehemence of her reproaches. Rodolpho knew not what to say or do, and answered not a word. This silence so astonished Lucadia, that she began to fancy she was dreaming, or haunted by a phantom. But the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood. This is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong. But it is the greatest which I can ask, or you can grant me." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 6859.3, "words": 670, "errors": 20, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Eleven o'clock had struck. It was a fine clear night. They were the only persons on the road, and they sauntered leisurely along, to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation, provided for the Toledans in the valley, or on the banks of their river. Secure, as he thought, in the careful administration of justice in that city, and the character of its well disposed inhabitants, the good hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family. This young cavalier, whose real name we shall, for good reasons, conceal under that of Rudolpho, was abroad that night with four of his companions. Insolent young royisters like himself, and happened to be coming down a hill, as the old hidalgo, and his family were ascending it. The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rodolpho and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter and the servant maid. The old hidalgo indignantly remonstrated. They answered him with mocks and jeers, and passed on. But Rudolfo had been struck by the great beauty of Leocadia, the hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards. In a moment, he communicated his thoughts to his companions, and in the next moment, they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please Rudolfo. For the rich, who are open handed, always find parricides ready to encourage their bad propensities. And thus, to conceive this wicked design, to communicate it, approve it, resolve on ravishing Leocadia, and to carry that design into effect, was the work of a moment. They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back, and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. Her father shouted, her mother shrieked, her little brother cried, the servant maid tore her own face and hair, but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded, the wailing moved no pity, the clawing and scratching was of no avail, for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot. The silence of the night and the cruel hearts of the ravishers. Finally, the one party went off exulting, and the other was left in desolation and woe. Rodolpho arrived at his own house, without any impediment, and Leocadius' parents reached theirs, heart broken and despairing. Meanwhile, Rodolfo had Leocadia safe in his custody, and in his own apartment. When Leocadia fainted in his arms, he had bandished her eyes, in order that she might not notice the streets through which she passed, or the house into which he took her, and before she recovered her senses, he effected his guilty purpose. Apathy and disgust commonly follows satiated lust. Rudolpho was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was. Who touches me? Am I in bed? Mother, dear father, do you hear me? Alas, too well I perceive that you cannot hear me, and that I am in the hands of enemies, whoever thou art,\" she exclaimed, suddenly, seizing Rodolfo's hand, \"if thy soul is capable of pity, grant me one prayer. Having deprived me of honor, now deprive me of life. Let me not survive my disgrace. In mercy kill me this moment. It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me. Confused by the vehemence of her reproaches, Rodolpho knew not what to say or do, and answered not a word. This silence so astonished Lucadia, that she began to fancy she was dreaming, or haunted by a phantom, but the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood. This is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong, but it is the greatest which I can ask, or you can grant me." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 4068.0, "words": 562, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 10, the ace of hearts, who should I find in the drawing room, talking fluently and smiling after his wont to old lady chelford, who seemed to receive him very graciously for her at least, but captain Stanley lake. I can't quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure standing among the Brandon household gods at this moment communicated to me. I glanced round for Wylder, but he was not there. You know, captain Lake, said lord chelford, addressing me, and Lake turned round upon me, a little abruptly, his odd yellowish eyes, a little like those of the sea eagle, and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face, with a stern and insidious look, confronted me. The churchyard meteor expired. There was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition. Your surprise to see me here, he said, in his very pleasing, low tones. I lighted on him in the village, and I knew Miss Brandon would not forgive me, if I allowed him to go away without coming here. He had his hand upon lake's shoulder. They are cousins, you know. We are all cousins. I am bad at genealogies. My mother could tell us all about it. We, Brandons, Lakes, Wylders, and Chelford's. At this moment Miss Brandon entered, with her brilliant cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark. It was a dazzling contrast. So Chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle. I thought of the fair Brunesende, with the captive knight in the hands of her seneschal before her, and I fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town, and brought him up for judgment. Whatever lord chelford said, Miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary smile. I wonder, she did not smile oftener, it became her so, but her greeting to Captain Lake was more than usually haughty and frozen, and her features, I fancied, particularly proud and pale. It seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference, something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion, than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face. How was it that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them an influence of pain or disturbance, wherever almost he looked? Shake hands with your cousin, my dear, said old Lady Chelford, peremptorily. The little scene took place close to her chair, and upon this stage direction, the little piece of by play took place, and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on. Young as he was, Stanley Lake was an old man of the world, not to be disconcerted, and never saw more than exactly suited him. Waiting in the drawing room, I had some entertaining talk with miss lake. Her conversation was lively, and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life, both good humored and sarcastic, and had carried into her rustic sequestration the melancholy and precocious lore of her early London experience. When Lord Chelford joined us, I perceived that Wylder was in the room, and saw a very cordial greeting between him and Lake." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 5634.1, "words": 562, "errors": 8, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Chapter 10, the ace of hearts, who should I find in the drawing room, talking fluently and smiling after his wont to old lady chelford, who seemed to receive him very graciously for her at least, but captain Stanley lake. I can't quite describe to you, the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure standing among the Brandon household. Gods at this moment, communicated to me. I glanced round for Wylder, but he was not there. You know, captain lake, said, lord chelford, addressing me, and lake turned round upon me. A little abruptly, his odd yellowish eyes, a little like those of the sea eagle, and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face with a stern and insidious look, confronted me. The churchyard meteor expired. There was nothing in a moment, but his ordinary smile of recognition. You're surprised to see me here he said in his very pleasing, low tones. I lighted on him in the village. And I knew miss Brandon would not forgive me if I allowed him to go away without coming here, he had his hand upon lake shoulder. They are cousins. You know, we are all cousins. I am bad at genealogies. My mother could tell us all about it. We, Brandons lakes. Wylders and Chelfords. At this moment, Miss Brandon entered, with her brilliant cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark, it was a dazzling contrast. So chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle. I thought of the fair brunisende with the captive knight in the hands of her seneschal before her, and I fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town and brought him up for judgment. Whatever lord chelford said, miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary smile. I wonder she did not smile oftener. It became her so. But her greeting to captain lake was more than usually haughty and frozen, and her features. I fancied, particularly proud and pale. It seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference. Something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face. How was it? That this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them, an influence of pain or disturbance wherever almost he looked, shake hands with your cousin, my dear, said old lady chelford peremptorily. The little scene took place close to her chair, and upon this stage direction, the little piece of by play took place, and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on. Young as he was, Stanley lake was an old man of the world, not to be disconcerted, and never saw more than exactly suited him. Waiting in the drawing room, I had some entertaining talk with Miss Lake. Her conversation was lively, and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life, both good humored and sarcastic. And had carried into her rustic sequestration, the melancholy and precocious lore of her early London experience when lord chelford joined us. I perceived that Wylder was in the room and saw a very cordial greeting between him and lake." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 4853.4, "words": 650, "errors": 18, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Miss lake declined the carriage to night. Her brother was to see her home, and there was a leave taking, and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed after the manner of their kind to captain lake. Miss Brandon's adieux were as cold and haughty as her greeting. Old women always like rascals, and he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by miss lake much as he disliked Stanley for Wylder, followed them out with lord chelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes, and I found myself near miss Brandon for the first time that evening, and much to my surprise, she was first to speak, and that rather strangely. You seem to be very sensible, mister de cresseron. Pray, tell me frankly, what do you think of all this? I mean of the family arrangements in which, as Mr. Wylder's friend, you seem to take an interest, she said. \"There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. I think it a very wise measure. I replied, much surprised, very wise, exactly. But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly. Do you really think your friend, Mr. Wylder, cares about me? I take that for granted, and the nature of things, it can hardly be otherwise, I replied, a good deal, startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr. Wylder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, Mr. de Cressero. And without awaiting my reply, she made some remark, which I forget to lady chelford, who sat at a little distance, and appearing quite absorbed in her new subject, she placed herself close beside the dowager, and continued to chat in a low tone. I was vexed with myself, for having managed, with so little skill, a conversation which, opened so oddly and frankly, might have placed me on relations so nearly confidential, with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime, I had formed a new idea of her. She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness, there was something almost contemptuous. By this time, lord chelford and Wylder returned. And disgusted rather with myself. I ruminated on my want of generalship. In the meantime, miss lake, with her hand on her brother's arm, was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath, which, through wild copes and broken clumps near the park, emerges upon the still darker road, which passes along the wooded glen by the mills, and skirts the little paling of the recluse ladies' garden. They had not walked far, when lake suddenly said. And he made a little dip of his cane towards Brandon Hall, over his shoulder. I don't think they pretend to like one another. It is quite understood. It was all, you know, old lady chelford's arrangement, and Dorcas is so supine. I believe she would allow herself to be given away by any one, and to any one, rather than be at the least trouble. She provokes me. But I thought she liked, sir Harry Bracton. He's a good looking fellow, and Queen's Bracton is a very nice thing, you know. Yes, so they said, but that would, I think, have been worse. Something may be made of mark Wylder. He has some sense and caution, has not he? But, sir, harry is wickedness itself. Why what has, sir harry done? That is the way you women run away with things. If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he is Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow. I can assure you." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 5816.3, "words": 650, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Miss lake declined the carriage to night. Her brother was to see her home, and there was a leave taking, and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed after the manner of their kind to captain lake. Miss Brandon's. Idea were as cold and haughty as her greeting old women always like rascals, and he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by miss lake much as he disliked Stanley. For Wylder followed them out with lord chelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes, and I found myself near miss Brandon for the first time that evening and much to my surprise. She was first to speak, and that rather strangely. You seem to be very sensible, mister de cresseron pray tell me frankly, what do you think of all this? I mean of the family arrangements in which, as mister Wylder's friend, you seem to take an interest she said. There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. I think it a very wise measure. I replied, much surprised, very wise, exactly. But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly. Do you really think your friend, mister Wylder, cares about me? I take that for granted, in the nature of things, it can hardly be otherwise, I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr. Wylder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, Mr. de Cresserone, and without awaiting my reply. She made some remark, which I forget, to lady chelford. Who sat at a little distance and appearing quite absorbed in her new subject? She placed herself close beside the dowager and continued to chat in a low tone. I was vexed with myself for having managed with so little skill, a conversation which opened so oddly and frankly might have placed me on relations, so nearly confidential with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime, I had formed a new idea of her she was so unreserved. It seemed, and yet in this directness. There was something almost contemptuous by this time, lord chelford, and Wylder returned, and disgusted, rather with myself. I ruminated on my want of generalship in the meantime, miss lake with her hand on her brother's arm was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath, which through wild copse and broken clumps near the park. Emerges upon the still darker road, which passes along the wooded glen by the mills and skirts the little paling of the recluse lady's garden. They had not walked far when lake suddenly said. And he made a little dip of his cane towards Brandon hall over his shoulder. I don't think they pretend to like one another. It is quite understood. It was all you know old lady chelford's arrangement, and Dorcas is so supine. I believe she would allow herself to be given away by anyone. And to any one rather than be at the least trouble, she provokes me, but I thought she liked, sir harry Bracton. He's a good looking fellow and queen's Bracton is a very nice thing you know. Yes, so they said, but that would I think have been worse. Something may be made of mark Wylder. He has some sense and caution has not he but sir harry is wickedness itself. Why what has, sir harry done? That is the way you women run away with things if a fellow's been a little bit wild, he is Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow. I can assure you." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 4441.4, "words": 626, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past 11 that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's farm, inquired this grand and beautiful young lady. Well, she was better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down and would be very happy to see miss Brandon if she would step into the drawing room. Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it. I suppose she was glad and took this way of showing it. And tall, beautiful, graceful, in rustling silks, she glided into the tiny drawing room silently. And sat down softly by the window, looking out upon the flowers and the fallen leaves, mottled in light and shadow. So there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies, the small door opened, and Rachel entered, with her hand extended, and a pale smile of balcom. Women can hide their pain better than we men, and bear it better too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel Lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy, which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile. She was sanguine. She was genial and companionable, and her spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face. This transient spring, and lighting up our beautiful, a glamour beguiling our senses. It wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment, and leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild, forgetful frolic. Rachel, dear, I'm so glad to see you, said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice. There was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner. which was new to Rachel, and comforting, and she returned the greeting as kindly, and felt more like her former self. You have been more ill than I thought, darling, and you are still far from quite recovered. Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise. I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be, that is quite well, answered Rachel. You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often. They sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand. Maybe, Rachel dear, you would like to drive a little? No, darling, not yet. It is very good of you. You have been so ill, my poor Rachel. Ill and troubled, dear, troubled in mind, and miserably nervous. Poor Rachel! Her nature recoiled from deceit, and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared. Dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave enquiry, and then miss Brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet, and was thinking a little sternly, maybe, and with a look of pain, still holding Rachel's hand, she said, with a sad sort of reproach in her tone. Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret. No, indeed, Dorcas, never and never will, and I think, though I have learned to fear death, I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it. She spoke with a sudden energy, which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek and made her languid eyes flash. Thank you, Rachel. My cousin Rachel, my only friend. I ought not to have doubted you, and she kissed her again. Chelford had a note from mister Wylder this morning, another note, his coming delayed, and something of his having to see some person who was abroad, continued Dorcas after a little pause." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 5941.0, "words": 626, "errors": 10, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past 11 that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's farm. Inquired this grand and beautiful young lady. Well, she was better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down and would be very happy to see miss Brandon if she would step into the drawing room. Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it. I suppose she was glad, and took this way of showing it. And tall, beautiful, graceful, in rustling silks. She glided into the tiny drawing room silently. And sat down softly by the window, looking out upon the flowers and the fallen leaves mottled in light and shadow, so there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies. The small door opened, and Rachel entered with her hand extended, and a pale smile of Balcom. Women can hide their pain better than we men and bear it better too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy, which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile she was sanguine. She was genial and companionable. And her spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face, this transient spring and lighting up our beautiful, a glamour beguiling our senses. It wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment. And leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild, forgetful frolic. Rachel, dear. I'm so glad to see you said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice. There was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner, which was new to Rachel and comforting, and she returned the greeting as kindly and felt more like her former self. You have been more ill than I thought, darling. And you are still far from quite recovered. Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise. I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be. That is quite well answered Rachel. You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often they sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand. Maybe Rachel, dear you would like to drive a little no darling not yet it is very good of you. You have been so ill, my poor Rachel, ill and troubled, dear, troubled in mind, and miserably nervous. Poor Rachel. Her nature recoiled from deceit, and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared. Dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave inquiry, and then miss Brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet and was thinking a little sternly, maybe, and with a look of pain still holding Rachel's hand, she said with a sad sort of reproach in her tone. Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret. No, indeed, Dorcas never, and never will, and I think, though I have learned to fear death. I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it. She spoke with a sudden energy which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek, and made her languid eyes flash. Thank you, Rachel. My cousin Rachel, my only friend. I ought not to have doubted you, and she kissed her again. Chelford had a note from mister Wylder this morning, another note his coming delayed, and something of his having to see some person who was abroad, continued Dorcas after a little pause." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 4793.8, "words": 703, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Robin started back angrily and faced the squire. He began a confused complaint against the wizard who had vanished behind the curtain on the left. Master Montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently give not so earnest a mind to these mummeries child. Twas, all a trick. What did you see a golden fortune and a happy life. He was like unto my father in a way. And yet was not my father. Also, there was a stripling page who turned into a maid very beautiful she was. And I would know her again in any guise. Ah, master robin, have you eyes for the maids already? This was so sweet a lady, sir, and in some manner, I do think she died, and the man shot an arrow, meaning me to see where it fell, since there would be her grave. That is what I think he meant. But then the picture was gone as quickly as it came. Sister Nell. Do you hear these marvels? Take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you. These things are true that the glass mirror shows, lording, answered the wizard, reappearing. The crystal cannot lie. He spoke unwittingly in a natural key. Robin turned round upon him very shrewdly. Friend wizard, said the youth, half at random. Have you ever played at archery in that greenwood which your glass showed us so prettily? Like as not, young master, though I am an old man. Remember that the crystal cannot lie. It tells me now that you and I will meet in rivalry, to shoot together for a strange prize, the freedom of Sherwood. The Wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass. What would you do? he whispered fiercely. Keep your secret, for I will not betray you. At this moment there uprose without the booth a most deafening tumult. Forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss, but master will, who peeped out first needed no more than one glance. He gave way to the others very readily, and retreated unperceived by the squire and mistress Fitzooth to the rear of the tent, cries of a Nottingham, a Nottingham rent the air, and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings, as the squire and robin looked forth, they beheld a flying crowd of men and women, all running and shouting. Before them fled the stroller and his three sons, capless and terrified. The old man's triangle had been torn from him, and was being jangled now by Nottingham fingers. There is trouble before us. Come, robin said Montfichet as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels. What is the tumult and rioting, cried out the squire authoritatively, and he blew twice on the silver whistle, which hung at his belt. The strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemy's resolutely when they had gained his side. They were out of breath, and their story was a confused one. The little tumbler recovered first. Nay, we refused their request most politely, most noble, said the little stroller, and then they became vexed, and would have snatched your purse from us. I could not see my boy injured, excellence, for but doing his duty as one of Cumberland's sons, so I did push this fellow. It is enough, said George Gamewell sharply, as he turned upon the crowd, shame on you, citizens, cried he. I blush for my fellows of Nottingham is this how you play an English game to force your rivals to lose to you any way? Cumberland has won my purse. The test was fairly set, and fairly were we conquered. Surely we can submit with good grace. TIS fine for you to talk, old man, answered the lean, sullen apprentice, but I wrestled with this fellow, and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout, spoke the squire, losing all patience, and it was to you that I gave another person consolation. Go your ways, ere I cause you to be more soundly whipped than your deserts, which should bring heavy enough punishment, for sure." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 5655.3, "words": 703, "errors": 9, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Robin started back angrily and faced the squire. He began a confused complaint against the wizard who had vanished behind the curtain on the left. Master Montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently. Give not so earnest a mind to these mummeries child. Twas, all a trick. What did you see a golden fortune and a happy life? He was like unto my father in a way. and yet was not my father. Also, there was a stripling page who turned into a maid very beautiful. She was, and I would know her again in any guise. Ah, master robin have you eyes for the maids already? This was so sweet a lady, sir, and in some manner, I do think she died, and the man shot an arrow, meaning me to see where it fell, since there would be her grave. That is what I think he meant, but then the picture was gone as quickly as it came. Sister Nell, do you hear these marvels take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you. These things are true that the glass mirror shows lording answered the wizard reappearing. The crystal cannot lie. He spoke unwittingly in a natural key. Robin turned round upon him very shrewdly friend wizard said the youth half at random. Have you ever played at archery in that green wood, which your glass showed us so prettily like as not, young master. Though I am an old man, remember that the crystal cannot lie. It tells me now that you and I will meet in rivalry to shoot together for a strange prize, the freedom of Sherwood. The wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass. What would you do? He whispered fiercely Keep your secret for? I will not betray you at this moment. There uprose without the booth, a most deafening tumult forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss, but master will who peeped out first needed no more than one glance. He gave way to the others very readily and retreated, unperceived by the squire and mistress Fitz To the rear of the tent, cries of a Nottingham. A Nottingham rent the air, and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings as the squire and robin looked forth. They beheld a flying crowd of men and women, all running and shouting. Before them fled, the stroller and his three sons capless and terrified, the old man's triangle had been torn from him and was being jangled now by Nottingham fingers. There is trouble before us come, robin said Montfichet as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels. What is the tumult and rioting, cried out the squire authoritatively, and he blew twice on the silver whistle, which hung at his belt. The strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemies resolutely when they had gained his side. They were out of breath, and their story was a confused one. The little tumbler recovered first nay, we refused their request most politely, most noble, said the little stroller, and then they became vexed and would have snatched your purse from us. I could not see my boy injured, excellence, for but doing his duty as one of Cumberland sons, so I did push this fellow. It is enough, said George Gamewell sharply as he turned upon the crowd. Shame on you, citizens cried he I blush for my fellows of Nottingham. Is this how you play an English game to force your rivals to lose to you any way? Cumberland has won my purse. The test was fairly set and fairly were we conquered. Surely we can submit with good grace. TIS fine for you to talk old man answered the lean sullen apprentice, but I wrestled with this fellow, and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout spoke the squire, losing all patient. And it was to you that I gave another person consolation, go your ways, ere I cause you to be more soundly whipped than your deserts, which should bring heavy enough punishment for sure." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 5082.0, "words": 757, "errors": 6, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Young Fitzooth had been commanded to his mother's chamber, so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire, there befell an anxious interview, mistress Fitzooth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath. Robin was perplexed. Indeed, his ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he as a true Montfichet must adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell. Most of all, robin thought of his father. What would he counsel remain Fitzooth and fight your own way in the world boy that is what he might say. In the end, robin decided to sleep upon the matter. In any case, he would not consent to rob Geoffrey of his inheritance, and he told old Gamewell this to his face. When I am gone, you can do what you will with the place, boy, the old man had answered. I have no son, but of course, the fees and revenues will be yours. If, for a whim, you beggar yourself. I cannot stay you, but take it whilst I live, and wear Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight, for you will ne'er disgrace our Dutcheon, I warrant me. Perchance 'tis Geoffrey's sole chance that you should wear the badge of Gamewell. I might choose to bequeath it elsewhere. The lad had checked him, then never that, sir, he had said, let Gamewell land be ruled for ever by Gamewell's proper lord. I pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere I answer you. It is what I would suggest myself go to her. Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more than before. He went down to discuss with Warrenton and stuteley, the means by which they best could bring the horse and arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became evident that no one other than warrant and dare attempt it for fear of betraying the son to his still angry father. Are you sure, Warrenton, that you will perform this business right carefully, robin asked over and over again, until the old servant became vexed. \"I am part of the house of Montfichet, lording,\" snapped Warrenton at last, \"and it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against myself, as it were. Be sure that the horse and his trappings will be safely carried to my second master, Geoffrey, at the hour given. Do you keep the squire employed in talk, and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own, that you may hear him if he moves. So robin and will went back to the hall, and presently the squire's voice was heard through the arras, which covered the north entrance to the apartment. He was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall, holding him by the arm. For a moment robin and will were unperceived. Then the squire's bright keen eyes discovered them, now to bed, boy, cried he, dropping his detaining hold of the priest. TIS late, and I go myself within a short space. Dismiss your squire, robin, and bid me good eaten. An early sleeper maketh a sound man. Did I see you with Warrenton, Robin Fitzooth put in the clerk curiously. I would fain have some talk with him on the matter of archery. I am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in Nottingham, as any in England, I would say, said Gamewell proudly, that is, in his day, now that age is upon Warrenton, and his master, cunning in such matters is to seek, yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come. Now kiss me, boy, and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to morrow. Good night. God keep thee, robin. He seemed to take it for granted that robin would, in the end, consent to become of the house of Gamewell already squire. George looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres, even as slowly did Warrenton, the shrewd and faithful man at arms. Truth to tell, the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye. Young Fitzooth embraced his uncle, and bade him good night with real affection. There was no chance to alter his sleeping room to one nearer to Gamewell's chamber." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 7236.3, "words": 757, "errors": 11, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Young Fitzooth had been commanded to his mother's chamber, so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire, there befell an anxious interview, mistress Fitzooth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath. Robin was perplexed, indeed. His ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he, as a true Montfichet must adhere to without fail upon, assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell. Most of all, robin thought of his father. What would he counsel remain Fitzooth and fight your own way in the world boy. That is what he might say in the end. robin decided to sleep upon the matter. In any case, he would not consent to rob Geoffrey of his inheritance, and he told old Gamewell this to his face. When I am gone, you can do what you will with the place boy. The old man had answered. I have no son. But of course, the fees and revenues will be yours if for a whim, you beggar yourself, I cannot stay you, but take it whilst I live and wear Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight, for you will never disgrace our dutcheon. I warrant me. Perchance TIS Geoffrey sole chance that you should wear the badge of Gamewell. I might choose to bequeath it elsewhere. The lad had checked him then never that, sir he had said. Let Gamewell land be ruled for ever by Gamewell's proper lord. I pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere. I answer you. It is what I would suggest myself go to her. Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more than before he went down to discuss with Warrenton and stuteley, the means by which they best could bring the horse and arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became evident that no one other than warrant and dare attempt it. For fear of betraying the son to his still angry father, are you sure, Warrenton, that you will perform this business right carefully robin asked over and over again until the old servant became vexed. I am part of the house of Montfichet lording snapped Warrenton at last. And it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against myself as it were be sure that the horse and his trappings will be safely carried to my second master Geoffrey at the hour given. Do you keep the squire employed in talk and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own that you may hear him if he moves, so robin and will went back to the hall, and presently the squire's voice was heard through the Arras, which covered the north entrance to the apartment. He was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall, holding him by the arm for a moment. robin and will were unperceived. Then the squire's bright keen eyes discovered them now to bed boy. Cried he dropping his detaining hold of the priest TIS late, and I go myself within a short space dismiss your squire, robin, and bid me good eaten. An early sleeper maketh a sound man. Did I see you with Warrenton robin Fitz put in the clerk curiously. I would fain have some talk with him on the matter of archery. I am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any at Nottingham. As any in England, I would say, said Gamewell proudly that is in his day now that age is upon Warrenton and his master cunning in such matters is to seek yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come. Now kiss me boy, and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to morrow. Good night. God keep thee, robin He seemed to take it for granted that robin would in the end consent to become of the house of Gamewell. Already squire George looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres, even as slowly did Warrenton, the shrewd and faithful man at arms truth to tell the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye. Young Fitzooth embraced his uncle and bade him good night with real affection. There was no chance to alter his sleeping room to one nearer to Gamewell's chamber." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 4136.3, "words": 534, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Out in the woods stood a nice little fir tree. The place he had was a very good one. The sun shone on him as to fresh air. There was enough of that and round him grew many large sized comrades, pines, as well as firs, but the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown up tree. He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air. He did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods, looking for wild strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree, and said, oh, how pretty he is, what a nice little fur, but this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year, he had shot up a good deal, and after another year, he was another long bit taller, for with fir trees. One can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. Oh, then would the birds build nests among my branches, and when there was a breeze, I could bend with as much stateliness as the others. Neither the sunbeams, nor the birds, nor the red clouds which morning and evening sailed above him gave the little tree any pleasure, in winter. When the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would often come leaping along, and jump right over the little tree. Oh, that made him so angry, but two winters were past, and in the third, the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it, to grow, and grow, to get older, and be tall, thought the tree, that, after all, is the most delightful thing in the world. In autumn, the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees. This happened every year, and the young fir tree that had now grown to a very comely size trembled at the sight. For the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. They were hardly to be recognized. And then they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? What became of them? Have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you. For they lifted themselves on the high most majestically. But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like? Rejoice in thy growth, said the sunbeams, rejoice in thy vigorous growth, and in the fresh life that moveth within thee, and the wind kissed the tree, and the dew wept tears over him, but the fur understood it not. These young trees, and they were always the finest looking, retained their branches. They were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. Where are they going to? asked the fir, asked the fir tree, trembling in every bough, and then, what happens then? We did not see anything more. It was incomparably beautiful." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 5494.3, "words": 534, "errors": 4, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Out in the woods stood a nice little fir tree. The place he had was a very good one. The sun shone on him as to fresh air. There was enough of that. And round him grew many large sized comrades, pines, as well as firs, but the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown up tree. He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air. He did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods, looking for wild strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries or a long row of them threaded on a straw and sat down near the young tree and said oh how pretty he is what a nice little fur, but this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year, he had shot up a good deal, and after another year, he was another long bit taller for with fir trees, one can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. Oh, then would the birds build nests among my branches? And when there was a breeze, I could bend with as much stateliness as the others, neither the sunbeams nor the birds, nor the red clouds, which morning and evening sailed above him, gave the little tree any pleasure. In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would often come leaping along and jump right over the little tree. Oh, that made him so angry, but two winters were past, and in the third the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it. To grow and grow to get older and be tall, thought the tree that after all is the most delightful thing in the world. In autumn, the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees. This happened every year, and the young fir tree that had now grown to a very comely size trembled at the sight. For the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. They were hardly to be recognized, and then they were laid in carts and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? What became of them have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you for They lifted themselves on high, most majestically. But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like rejoice in thy growth said the sunbeams rejoice in thy vigorous growth and in the fresh life that moveth within thee? And the wind kissed the tree and the dew wept tears over him, but the fir understood it not these young trees. And they were always the finest, looking retained their branches. They were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. Where are they going to asked the fir? Asked the fir tree, trembling in every bough, and then what happens then we did not see anything more. It was incomparably beautiful." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 4771.4, "words": 760, "errors": 40, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Kenneth and beth refrained from telling the other girls or uncle John of old will Rogers visit, but they got mister Watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check. It was a serious crime. Indeed, mister Watson told them, and tom gates bade fair to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act, but it was a generous act too said beth. I can't see it in that light said the old lawyer. It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The squireses are a selfish, hard fisted lot, and the old lady, especially, is a well known virago. But they could not have proven a case against Lucy. If she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff, so this boy was doubly foolish, in ruining himself to get sixty dollars, to pay an unjust demand. He was soft hearted and impetuous, said beth, and being in love, he didn't stop to count the cost. Indeed, there's never an excuse for crime. The young man is guilty, and he must suffer the penalty. Is there no way to save him asked Kenneth, if the prosecution were withdrawn, and the case settled with the victim of the forged check, then the young man would be allowed his freedom, but under the circumstances, I doubt if such an arrangement could be made. We're going to try it, anyhow, was the prompt decision. So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning, beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles. the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time. Fairview was 12 miles away, but by 10 o'clock, they drew up at the county drill. They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer. He was a round faced, respectable, appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable. \"We wish to talk with him,\" answered Kenneth. \"Talk! What's the good? You're no friend of Tom Gates. I am Kenneth Forbes of Elmhurst. I'm running for representative on the Republican ticket said Kenneth quietly. Oh say, that's different observed Markham, altering his demeanter. You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, mister Forbes. I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerves something awful. Maybe see gates at once asked Kenneth. Surely, I'll take you to his cell meself. It's just shockin' how much a little thing is stoppin' smokin' will rile up a fellow. Come this way, please. They followed the jailer along a succession of passages. Sometimes I'm that yearning for a smoke. I'm nearly crazy, and I dunno which is worse, dying one way or the other. He unlocked the door and called, here's visitors. Tom, thank you, mister Markham, replied a quiet voice, as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. How are you feeling to day? Worse. Worse'n error, replied the jailer gloomily. Well, stick it out, old man don't give in. I won't. Tom smoke'll kill me sure, and there's a faint hope o living through this struggle to give it up. This visitor is mister formes of Elbhurst, and the young lady is mister Graff, said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically, as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it. Will you leave us alone, please, Mr. Markham? Sorry we haven't any reception room in the jail. All visits has to be made in the cells. Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and Beth in with the forger, and retreated along the passage. Sit down, please, said Gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice. There's a pinch here. Why did you do it? asked beth. He was silent, and turned his face away. A fresh wholesome looking boy was tom gates, with steady gray eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth. He was of sturdy, athletic build, and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material, but well brushed and cared for. Beth thought his appearance pleasing and manly. We have heard something of your story, said Kenneth, and are interested in it. Do you know, Lucy, sir? asked the young man." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 7468.9, "words": 760, "errors": 38, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Kenneth and beth refrained from telling the other girls or uncle John of old will Rogers visit, but they got mister Watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check. It was a serious crime. Indeed, mister Watson told them, and tom gates. Bade fair to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act, but it was a generous act too, said beth. I can't see it in that light said the old lawyer. It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The squire'ses are a selfish, hard fisted lot, and the old lady, especially is a well known virago. But they could not have proven a case against Lucy if she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff, so this boy was doubly foolish in ruining himself to get $60 to pay an unjust demand. He was soft hearted and impetuous, said beth, and being in love, he didn't stop to count the cost. Indeed, there's never an excuse for crime. The young man is guilty, and he must suffer the penalty. Is there no way to save him asked Kenneth if the prosecution were withdrawn, and the case settled with the victim of the forged check then the young man would be allowed his freedom, but under the circumstances, I doubt if such an arrangement could be made. We're going to try it anyhow was the prompt decision. So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning, beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles, the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time. Fairview was 12 miles away, but by 10 o'clock they drew up at the county drayle. They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer. He was a round faced, respectable appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable. We wish to talk with him, answered Kenneth talk. What is the good? You're no friend of tom gates. I am Kenneth Forbes of Elmhurst. I'm running for representative on the republican ticket said Kenneth quietly. Oh, say, that's different observed Markham, altering his demeanor. You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, mister Forbes. I've just stopped smoking a few days ago and it's got on my nerves something awful. May we see Gates at once asked Kenneth Shirley I'll take you to his cell myself. It's just shocking how much a little thing is stopping smoking will rile up a fellow come this way, please. They follow the jailer along a succession of passages. Sometimes I'm that yearning for a smoke. I'm nearly crazy and I dunno, which is worse. Dying one way or the other, he unlocked the door and called here's visitors. Tom Thank you, mister Markham replied a quiet voice as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. How are you feeling to day? Worse, tom worse than error, replied the jailer gloomily well stick it out old man don't give in. I won't. Tom smoke'll kill me sure an there's a faint hope o living through this struggle to give it up. This visitor is Mr. Formes of Elbhurst, and the young lady is Mr. Graff, said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it. Will you leave us alone, please mister Markham. Sorry we haven't any reception room in the jail. All visits has to be made in the cells. Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and beth in with the forger and retreated along the passage sit down, please said Gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice. There's a bench here. Why did you do it? asked beth. He was silent and turned his face away. A fresh wholesome, looking boy was tom gates with steady gray eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth. He was of sturdy, athletic build, and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material, but well brushed and cared for. Beth thought his appearance, pleasing and manly. We have heard something of your story, said Kenneth and are interested in it. Do you know, Lucy, sir asked the young man." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 6105.6, "words": 610, "errors": 18, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER 12 BETH MEETS A REbuff. The campaign was now growing warm. Mr. Hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and that defeat met his political ruin, so to the surprise of the democratic committee, and all his friends, mister Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary. He did not laugh at his opponent any longer to himself, he admitted their shrewdness and activity and acknowledged that inexperienced head was managing their affairs. One of Mr. Hopkins's first tasks, after calling his faithful henchmen around him, was to make a careful canvass of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished. This canvass was quite satisfactory, for final report showed only about a hundred majority for Forbes, but to offset this cheering condition. The democratic agents who made the canvass reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm and faint hearted, and might easily be induced to change their votes. This was what must be prevented, the weak kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition. The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the democratic strongholds of the state. The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties, included in the eighth district, were a strongly republican, and being more populous, gave to the district its natural republican majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature, was the candidate for sheriff of Monroe County. A man named Cummings was the Republican, and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the Democratic nominee. Under ordinary conditions, Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins. This trading votes, which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice, and consented readily to the arrangement. Mr. Cummings, who, as to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation, and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself. But the Honorable Erastus had no intention of taking chances, or monkeying with fate, as he tersely expressed it. Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill, and this was why Kenneth and Beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mr. Hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners. The description she gave of the coming reception to the women's political league was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them, and thus Mr. Hopkins failed to notice who the occupants of the other vehicle were. Louise was making great preparations to entertain the women's political league, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady, and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 6591.7, "words": 610, "errors": 17, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER 12 BETH MEETS A REbuff. The campaign was now growing warm. Mr. Hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and that defeat met his political ruin. So, to the surprise of the Democratic Committee and all his friends, mister Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary. He did not laugh at his opponent any longer. To himself he admitted their shrewdness and activity, and acknowledged that inexperienced head was managing their affairs. One of Mr. Hopkins's first tasks, after calling his faithful henchmen around him, was to make a careful canvass of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished. This canvass was quite satisfactory for final report showed only about 100 majority for Forbes. But to offset this cheering condition, the democratic agents who made the canvass reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm and faint hearted and might easily be induced to change their votes. This was what must be prevented, the weak kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition. The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the democratic strongholds of the state. The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties, included in the eighth district, were as strongly republican, and being more populous, gave to the district, its natural republican majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature was the candidate for sheriff of Monroe county a man named Cummings was the republican and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the democratic nominee. Under ordinary conditions, Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins. This trading votes, which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice and consented readily to the arrangement. Mister Cummings, who, as to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself, but the hon Erastus had no intention of taking chances or monkeying with fate as he tersely expressed it. Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill, and this was why Kenneth and beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mister Hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners. The description she gave of the coming reception to the women's political league was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them, and thus mister Hopkins failed to notice who the occupants of the other vehicle were. Louise was making great preparations to entertain the women's political league, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady, and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 3975.3, "words": 655, "errors": 6, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French in return, invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey from the respect paid her on all sides. She seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appeared an object of worship. The queen mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened for them. The count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs. Bodily, I suppose, yes, bodily. This has indeed been a harassing day, continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? You will be frank with me? I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent, I suspect, because he is in love with madame, is it not? One could almost swear to it, to observe him. You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken, Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day. I can perceive love clearly enough. I am convinced of what I say, said the count. Now inform me, count, said Ralph, fixing a penetrating look upon him, what happened to render you so clear sighted? I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued. Believe me, it is not fatigue, that saddens you to night. It is annoyance, then. What annoyance? That of this evening? The mad conduct of the duke of Buckingham? do you mean? Yes, you are right, but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. Yes, certainly, but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice. What did you say to him? You think he loves her? You admit that such a passion does not give way readily? He does not love her, then? The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him, count, replied Raoul. I will repeat to you. Listen to me, in those very terms, I even added more. How would you regard us? I said, if you were to perceive among us a man, mad enough, disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? But, continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend. Heaven be praised, the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless, and indiscreet, reckless, even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. Thus, it is that the honor of three is saved, our country, our masters and our own. It is thus that we act, your Grace. It is thus that every man of honor ought to act. But now, I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 6749.5, "words": 655, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French in return, invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three. She appeared an object of worship. The queen mother gave the French, the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she has suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened for them. The count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus his face buried in his hands with heaving chest and restless limbs. Bodily, I suppose yes, bodily this has indeed been a harassing day, continued the young man. His eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? You will be frank with me. I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent? I suspect because he is in love with madame is it not one could almost swear to it to observe him? You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken. Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes in his every gesture and action the whole day. I can perceive love clearly enough. I am convinced of what I say, said the count now inform me count, said Ralph fixing a penetrating look upon him. What happened to render you so clear sighted? I mean that generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued, believe me. It is not fatigue that saddens you to night. It is annoyance, then what annoyance that of this evening. The mad conduct of the duke of Buckingham, do you mean yes, you are right, but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. Yes, certainly but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice. What did you say to him? You think he loves her. You admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her then. The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure, which could easily be read what I said to him, count replied Raoul. I will repeat to you. Listen to me. In those very terms, I even added more, how would you regard us? I said, if you were to perceive among us, a man mad enough, disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? But continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend heaven be praised the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet. Reckless, even are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved. Our country, our masters and our own. It is thus that we act your grace. It is thus that. Every man of honor ought to act, but now I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 5242.2, "words": 687, "errors": 16, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Goliath makes another discovery o Cynthia gasped joy at length isn't it too comical or just as far from it all as ever, and they both fell to chuckling again. There were certainly no near the solution of their problem for facing the room. Once more. The mysterious picture looked forth the portrait of two babies. They were plump, placid babies, aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were twins, and evidently brother and sister, for one youngster's dress, being a trifle severe in style, indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable, fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree, and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. The poor little things, cried Cynthia, think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now, what is the sense of it? Two innocent babies like that. But Joyce had not been listening. All at once, she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion. I've got it. She announced. It came to me all of a sudden. Of course those babies were our twins, brother and sister. Any one can tell that. Well, don't you see one of them? The girl was our lovely lady. The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now, what have you to say, Cynthia Sprague? You must be right, admitted Cynthia. I thought we were stumped again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use after all. Do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing? All this while Cynthia had been standing candle in one hand and dust cloth in the other at that point, she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dust cloth. Presently she spoke. Joyce, do you think there would be any harm in my doing something I've longed to do ever since we first entered this house? What in the world is it queried Joyce? Why, I want to dust this place, and clear out of the way. Some of the dirt and cobwebs may worry me terribly, and besides, I'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it. Good scheme, Sin, cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. I'll tell you what, we'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything. I'm sure, for we won't disturb things at all, but let's go and finish our studying now, and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon. Filled with fresh enthusiasm. The two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt, had been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair. Smuggling the house cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window, unobserved that afternoon proved no easy task, for Cynthia had added a whisk broom and dust pan to the outfit, but a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed till goliath, basking on the veranda steps, spied it. The lure proved too much for him, and he came sporting after it as friskly as a young kitten, much to Cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him. Oh, let him come along, she urged. I do love to see him about that old house. He makes it sort of cozier, and so Goliath followed into the Bordent up house." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 5586.1, "words": 687, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Goliath makes another discovery o Cynthia gasped joy at length isn't it too comical or just as far from it all as ever, and they both fell to chuckling again. There were certainly no near the solution of their problem for facing the room once more. The mysterious picture looked forth the portrait of two babies. They were plump placid babies, aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were. Twins, aunt evidently, brother and sister, for one youngster's dress, being a trifle severe in style indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat, red cheeks, and adorable fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. The poor little things cried Cynthia think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now, what is the sense of it? Two innocent babies like that, but Joyce had not been listening all at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion. I've got it. She announced. It came to me all of a sudden Of course those babies were twins, brother and sister. Any one can tell that Well, don't you see? One of them, the girl was our lovely lady. The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now what have you to say? Cynthia Sprague. You must be right, admitted Cynthia. I thought we were stumped again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use after all. Do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing? All this while Cynthia had been standing candle in one hand and dustcloth in the other. At that point, she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dust cloth. Presently she spoke. Joyce. Do you think there would be any harm in my doing something? I've longed to do ever since we first entered this house? What in the world is it queried Joyce? Why I want to dust this place and clear out of the way some of the dirt and cobwebs may worry me terribly and besides, I'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it. Good scheme, Sin. Cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. I'll tell you what we'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything. I'm sure for we won't disturb things at all, but let's go and finish our studying now and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon. Filled with fresh enthusiasm, the two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt had been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair, smuggling the house, cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window, unobserved that afternoon proved no easy task for Cynthia had added a whisk broom and dust pan to the outfit. But a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed till goliath basking on the veranda steps, spied it. The lure proved too much for him, and he came sporting after it as friskly as a young kitten much to Cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him. Oh, let him come along. She urged. I do love to see him about that old house. He makes it sort of cozier, and so goliath followed into the boarded up house." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 4125.5, "words": 559, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "I suppose I must have gone on blindly for some time for when I again became conscious. I stood beside a river while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead. Strange noises filled the air. Sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me, which presently changed into hisses until it seemed as if 1000 serpents were creeping all around me. The waters of the river looked black while above me were weird, fantastic forms, leaping in the stillness of the night, no words were spoken, no language was uttered, save that of wailing and hissing, and that somehow was indistinct, as if it existed in f and not in reality, by and by, however, I heard a voice, onward, it said, and I became unconscious. Again, I realized my existence in a vague, shadowy way. I stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple. Large gray lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks, and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religious system, but which was now terrible in its weird desolation. I watched eagerly, but they faded away, leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place. I heard a noise behind. I turned and saw Kaffir, his black eyes shining, while in his hand, he held a gleaming knife. He lifted it above his head, as if to strike, but I had the strength of 10 men, and I hurled him from me. He looked at me with a savage leer. Onward, said a distant voice. The temple vanished, and with it all my realization of life, save a vague fancy that I was moving somewhere, I knew not where. I stood by a well remembered spot, I was by the side of drear water pond, around me was a stretch of common land, on which grew heather and firs. In front of me were noiseless waters, a dismal sight at the best of times, but awful as I saw them, across the pond in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees. No sound broke the stillness of the night. The wind had gone to rest, the moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds. I stood alone. Each minute my surroundings became more real. I recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit, while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness. The story of its evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition, I wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said. What was that? The waters moved, distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from their dark depths, something appeared. I could not at first tell what. What could it be? The ghost of some murdered man or woman? What, then, a human hand, large and shapely, appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond? Nothing more, not even the wrist to which it might be attached. It did not beckon, or indeed move at all, it was as still as the hand of death. I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand became more clear, then I gave an awful shudder. The hand was red. I gave a shriek, and for a time remembered nothing more." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 5102.9, "words": 559, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "I suppose I must have gone on blindly for some time for when I again became conscious. I stood beside a river while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead. Strange noises filled the air. Sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me, which presently changed into hisses until it seemed as if 1000 serpents were creeping all around me. The waters of the river looked black while above me were weird, fantastic forms, leaping in the stillness of the night. No words were spoken. No language was uttered, save that of wailing and hissing, and that somehow was indistinct as if it existed in fancy, and not in reality. By and by, however, I heard a voice onward, it said, and I became unconscious again. I realized my existence in a vague shadowy way. I stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple. Large gray lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religious system, but which was now terrible in its weird desolation. I watched eagerly, but they faded away, leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place. I heard a noise behind. I turned and saw Kaffir, his black eyes shining while in his hand, he held a gleaming knife. He lifted it above his head as if to strike, but I had the strength of 10 men, and I hurled him from me. He looked at me with a savage leer. Onward said a distant voice, the temple vanished, and with it all my realization of life, save a vague fancy that I was moving somewhere. I knew not where. I stood by a well remembered spot. I was by the side of drearwater pond around me was a stretch of common land on which grew heather and furze. In front of me were noiseless waters, a dismal sight at the best of times, but awful as I saw them, across the pond in the near distance, loomed the dark fir trees. No sound broke the stillness of the night. The wind had gone to rest. The moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds. I stood alone. Each minute, my surroundings became more real. I recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness. The story of its evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition. I wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said what was that? The waters moved distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from their dark depths, something appeared. I could not at first tell what what could it be the ghost of some murdered man or woman? What then a human hand, large and shapely appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond nothing more not even the wrist to which it might be attached? It did not beckon or indeed move at all. It was as still as the hand of death. I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand became more clear, then I gave an awful shudder. The hand was red. I gave a shriek, and for a time remembered nothing more." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 4927.3, "words": 556, "errors": 21, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The 3 modes of management. To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in affecting such a substitution as that is entirely to mistake its nature and design, the only government of the parent over the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority, complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are, one, government, by maneuvering and artifice. By reason and affection. 3. By authority. She brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth, and before the chase comes to the door, she sends Mary out into the garden with her sister, under pretense of showing her a bird's nest, which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill in diverting the child's mind, and amusing her with something else in the garden, until the chaise is gone, as the chase drives away. Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep. Her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust and suspicion of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor, surge, and swell, among those delicate organizations, on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend, doing, perhaps, an irreparable injury. The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned, that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement, that she was going to the doctor's, it may, or may not, have been true, most likely not, for mothers who manage their children, on this system, find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood, so vague, and ill defined, that they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love mamma, I am sure, and wish to have her get well soon, so you will be a good girl, I know, and not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly, won't you? Then I shall love you. And your papa will love you, and after I get well. We will take you to ride with us some day. The mother, in managing the case, in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly on an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon. And I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. Why can't you take me? asks Mary. \"I cannot tell you why now,\" replies the mother, \"but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason. And, at any rate, I have decided that you are not to go. If you are a good girl, and do not make any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the front door step, and can see the chase come to the door, and see your father and me get in and drive away, and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a good bye. Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission, in Mary's continence, the mother would add." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 5822.3, "words": 556, "errors": 26, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The 3 modes of management. To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in affecting such a substitution as that. Is entirely to mistake its nature and design, the only government of the parent over the child, that is worthy of the name, is one of authority. Complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are, one, Government by maneuvering an artifice. 2. By reason and affection. 3, by authority, she brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth, and before the chase comes to the door, she sends Mary out into the garden with her sister. Under pretense of showing her a bird's nest, which is not there, trusting to her sister skill in diverting the child's mind and amusing her with something else in the garden until the chase is gone as the chase drives away. Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep, her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust. And suspicion of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor, surge, and swell, among those delicate organizations on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend, doing, perhaps, an irreparable injury. The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement, that she was going to the doctor's, it may, or may not, have been true, most likely not, for mothers who manage their children, on this system, find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood, so vague, and ill defined. That they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love mamma, I am sure. And wish to have her get well soon, so you will be a good girl, I know, and not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly, won't you? Then I shall love you, and your papa will love you. And after I get well. We will take you to ride with us someday. The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly... On an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon. And I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. Why can't you take me? asks Mary. \"I cannot tell you why now,\" replies the mother, \"but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason, and, at any rate, I have decided. That you are not to go, if you are a good girl, and do not make any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the front door step, and can see the chase, come to the door, and see your father and me get in and drive away, and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a good by. Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission, in Mary's countenance, the mother would add," }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 4488.9, "words": 612, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Della and the Dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, the charge of young children, without any absolute authority over them, or any means, or even any right, to enforce their commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sister, referred to in the preceding illustrations. To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della. Della had a young sister named Maria, and a cousin whose name was Jane. Now, Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls, but being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it, and would listen with the utmost attention, and there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions, which she gave, made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves. To give an idea of these conversations. I will report one of them in full. I am very glad to see you. How nice you look. You have come, and Della, and Della was the name of Jane's doll, to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it, and try to pull it away from one another, but one waits like a lady until the other has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Andela, since you were here last. Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone, \"Has she been a good girl, Jane? And you don't look very well now, you must take good care of yourself, and, if you don't feel well, you must ask your mother to bring you in to me, and I will give you a dose of my medicine. My aqua sacarina, a medium of reproof. Delia was accustomed to use the dolls, not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. For instance, one day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and, finally, had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor. Delia came to the parlor, and, with an air of great mystery, beckoned the children aside, and said to them, in a whisper, \"Leave Andela, and Rosalie here, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a secret, something I would not have them know, on any account. So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. \"There,\" said she, pointing to the playthings. See? All your playthings left out. Put them away quick, before Andela, and Rosalie, see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. They would think that they might do so, too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 5739.8, "words": 612, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Della and the Dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise. The charge of young children, without any absolute authority over them, or any means, or even any right, to enforce their commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sister, referred to in the preceding illustrations. To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather, of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della. Della had a young sister named Maria, and a cousin whose name was Jane. Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls, but being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it, and would listen with the utmost attention. And there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves. To give an idea of these conversations, I will report one of them in full. I am very glad to see you. How nice you look. You have come. And Della! And Della was the name of Jane's doll. To make Rosalie a visit, I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it. And try to pull it away from one another, but one waits like a lady until the other has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Andella, since you were here last. Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone. Has she been a good girl, Jane? And you don't look very well now. You must take good care of yourself, and, if you don't feel well, you must ask your mother to bring you in to me, and I will give you a dose of my medicine, my aqua sacarina. A medium of reproof. Delia was accustomed to use the dolls, not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. For instance. One day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor. Delia came to the parlor, and with an air of great mystery, beckoned the children aside, and said to them. In a whisper, Leave Andela and Rosalie here, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a secret, something I would not have them know, on any account. So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. There. said she, pointing to the playthings. See, all your playthings left out. Put them away quick, before Andela and Rosalie see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. They would think that they might do so, too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 4260.8, "words": 435, "errors": 4, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "If, for example, he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, on a careful scrutiny find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house, with which he was familiar in early life, nature of the effect produced by early impressions. That is comparatively nothing. You have made a lifelong change, if not, in the very structure. At least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone. The nature and origin. of general ideas. It is the same substantially. In respect to all those abstract and general ideas, on moral or other kindred subjects, which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man, and have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character. They are chiefly formed, from combinations of the impressions made in childhood. Every story, therefore, which you relate to a child, to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness, takes its place, or, rather, the impression which it makes, takes its place, as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. Vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see, on reflection, how vast an influence, on the ideas and conceptions, as well as on the principles of action in mature years, must be exerted, by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind. Among other bearings of this thought. It gives great weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in the management and training of the young, provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence, to which a father subjects his son, may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain, even the remembrance of it, may at length fade from the mind. But there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression, which you make upon his perceptive powers, must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may, in some cases, be forever indelible. Let us, then, take care, that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall, be sources of enjoyment for them, in future years." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 4644.4, "words": 435, "errors": 4, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "If, for example, he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, on a careful scrutiny find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house. With which he was familiar in early life, nature of the effect produced by early impressions. That is comparatively nothing. You have made a lifelong change, if not, in the very structure. At least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone. The nature and origin of general ideas. It is the same substantially. In respect to all those abstract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man. And have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character. They are chiefly formed, from combinations of the impressions made in childhood. Every story, therefore, which you relate to a child, to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness, takes its place, or, rather, the impression. Which it makes, takes its place, as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. Vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see, on reflection, how vast an influence, on the ideas? And conceptions, as well as on the principles of action in mature years, must be exerted, by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind, among other bearings of this thought. It gives great weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in the management and training of the young, provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence, to which a father subjects his son, may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain, even the remembrance of it, may at length fade from the mind. But there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression which you make upon his perceptive powers must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may, in some cases, be forever indelible. Let us, then, take care that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall, be sources of enjoyment for them in future years." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 3869.9, "words": 584, "errors": 9, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody, seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer, walking alongside a load of peat, and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking, and he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dear me, he said. If I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peat load. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peat loads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road, he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots, and carried a jackknife. He gazed and gazed at the cap, and could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jackknife to boot. Now, this knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked, and Anders knew that one is almost a man, as soon as one has a jack knife. Oh, no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said good bye to Lars with a nod, but Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap, which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman, and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball. Yes, why not, thought Anders, seeing that I am so fine? I may as well go and visit the king. And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers, with shining helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came, both the muskets were leveled at him. Where may you be going? asked one of the soldiers. I am going to the court ball, answered Anders. \"Indeed you are not,\" said the other soldier, and put his foot forward. But just at this instant. The princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk, with bows of ribbon. When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. Oh, she said, he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head that that will do just as well as a uniform. And she took Anders' hand, and walked with him up the broad marble stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through the magnificent halls, where courtiers, in silk and velvet, stood bowing wherever he went. Four, like as not. They must have thought him a prince, when they saw his fine cap. At the farther end of the largest hall, a table was set, with golden cups and golden plates, in long rows, on huge silver platters, were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side. \"But you must not eat with your cap on your head,\" she said, and was going to take it off." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 5175.3, "words": 584, "errors": 10, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody, seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer, walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking. And he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dear me, he said, if I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peat load. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peat loads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road, he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jackknife. He gazed and gazed at the cap. And could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jack knife to boot now. This knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked. And Anders knew that one is almost a man as soon as one has a jackknife. Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said goodbye to Lars with a nod. But Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap. Which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman, and said that he was so fine, that he might go to the Royal Court ball. Yes, why not thought Anders, seeing that I am so fine. I may as well go and visit the king. And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers, with shining helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came, both the muskets were leveled at him. \"Where may you be going?\" asked one of the soldiers. I am going to the court ball. answered Anders. \"Indeed you are not,\" said the other soldier, and put his foot forward. But just at this instant the princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk, with bows of ribbon. When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. \"Oh,\" she said, \"He has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head that that will do just as well as a uniform.\" And she took Anders' hand, and walked with him up the broad marble stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through the magnificent halls, where courtiers, in silk and velvet, stood bowing wherever he went. For, like as not, they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap. At the farther end of the largest hall, a table was set, with golden cups and golden plates, in long rows. On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side. But you must not eat with your cap on your head, she said, and was going to take it off." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 4420.7, "words": 623, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at 5 o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring, which was the result of so much imagination and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court as for the ballet itself. Every person knew the part he had to take in it and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise, both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window. The pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters. The swans themselves, even, reposing with folded wings, like ships at anchor. seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air. The freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. Ah, very well. Let him come in, then, said the king, and as if Colbert had been listening at the door, for the purpose of keeping himself au courant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers. Gentlemen, do your posts, whereupon saint Aignan and Villeroy took their leave, certainly sire, but I must have money to do that. What sire they were sent at the hour promised. Well? Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks have swallowed up 4 millions, and eight days. Entirely? To the last penny. Every time your majesty directed the banks of the grand canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins. What do you mean inquired Luis? He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply. The king frowned. Colbert turned pale, and yet, he said, your majesty did not use this language, some time ago, when the news about Belle Isle arrived, for instance, in my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed. Does your majesty, then, no longer believe the disloyal attempt? My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur, and I have already told you I transact them without interference, then I perceive, said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty. Not at all. You are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me. Yet, sire, said the minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Louisa's self esteem. What use is there in being agreeable to your majesty, if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion, and, believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your majesty's plan, then, in this affair is, you will take them from my private treasure. The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau. It was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning. During its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 6264.6, "words": 623, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at 5 o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring. Which was the result of so much imagination and had caused so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court? As for the ballet itself. Every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise, both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window. The pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow was already mounting the heavens, not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters. The swans themselves, even reposing with folded wings like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. Ah, very well. Let him come in, then said the king, and as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself au courant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers, gentlemen to your posts. Whereupon saint Aignan and Villeroy took their leave, certainly sire, but I must have money to do that what sire they were sent at the hour promised. Well well. Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks have swallowed up 4 millions and eight days entirely to the last penny every time your majesty directed the banks of the grand canal to be illuminated as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins. What do you mean, inquired Louise? He has given them with too much grace, not to have others still to give if they are required, which is the case at the present moment it is necessary, therefore that he should comply. The king frowned. Colbert turned pale, and yet he said your majesty did not use this language some time ago when the news about belle isle arrived. For instance, in my thoughts, monsieur everything has changed. Does your majesty, then no longer believe the disloyal attempt? My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur, and I have already told you I transact them without interference then I perceive, said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty. Not at all, you are on the contrary, most agreeable to me yet sire, said the minister with a certain affected bluntness so successful when it was a question of flattering Louise's self esteem. What use is there in being agreeable to your majesty if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion and believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your majesty's plan then in this affair is, you will take them from my private treasure. The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau. It was already known too that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning during its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 5109.6, "words": 578, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards madame for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn, young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion than others more advanced in years, but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor, so that vanity being with them, almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipage, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquire men and women from 30 to 5 and 30 years of age. Louis thought of madame, but only after he had studiously thought of himself. And madame carefully thought of herself, without bestowing a single thought upon the king. Every one could observe his agitation and prostration, a prostration which was, indeed, the more remarkable, since people were not accustomed to see him, with his arms hanging listlessly by his side. His head bewildered, and his eyes, with all their bright intelligence bedimmed. All these sufferings, successes and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. Upon this, madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the Comte, observing, the Comte's patience almost forsook him, as he continued, your royal highness danced just now, most charmingly. Do you think so, she replied with indifference. Yes, the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own. Oh, there can be no doubt of it. Explain yourself? You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant, you mean Pomona, Comte? I allude to the goddess. Nay, madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed. With this remark, accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fiber of one's being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly, and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply, madame condescended to make, was by slightly raising her shoulders, and as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired, while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonnaychante and Mademoiselle de Montalais. Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said? the princess inquired. No? And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, in the first place, he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly. She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. The arrow pierced his heart, and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fête by his annoyance. He fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces, and scattering as he went along the branches of vines, mulberry, and almond trees, with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards, he returned to the theater, but it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back, or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 6435.4, "words": 578, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards madame for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion than others more advanced in years, but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor. So that vanity, being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipage, never attains that degree of perfection, which it acquires in men and women from 30 to 5 and 30 years of age. Louis thought of madame. But only after he had studiously thought of himself, and madame carefully thought of herself, without bestowing a single thought upon the king, every one could observe his agitation and prostration, a prostration, which was indeed. The more remarkable, since people were not accustomed to see him with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head, bewildered, and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed all these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. Upon this, madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the Comte, observing the Comte's patience, almost forsook him as he continued your royal highness danced just now most charmingly. Do you think so? She replied with indifference. Yes, the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own. Oh, there can be no doubt of it. Explain yourself. You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant. You mean, Pomona, Comte. I allude to the goddess nay, madame. I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed with this remark. Accompanied by one of those deep sighs, which affect the remotest fiber of one's being his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire. And his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply, madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were mademoiselle de tonnay chalante and mademoiselle de Montalais. Did you hear what the Comte de guiche said? The princess inquired. No, and then in a louder voice, fearful, lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, in the first place, he danced badly, and afterwards, his remarks were very silly. She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally, then at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fête by his annoyance. He fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces and scattering. As he went along the branches of vines, mulberry, and almond trees with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity, a quarter of an hour afterwards, he returned to the theater. But it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back or perhaps for love is thus strangely constituted. He found it impossible, even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 8704.0, "words": 685, "errors": 20, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It directly overhung a transparent amber brown chute of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of north fork rapids. The strange mannered duck had no proper talons, wherewith to grasp his perch, but his strong clawed webs held him steadily. None the less, as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent here where the north fork stream fell into the odonunis was a resort, exactly to his liking, and most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down either the fork or the parent river, chose to pass through that sleuth of swift but unbroken flow immediately beneath the overhanging branch on which he perched. For all the splendor of his plumage, the meganser was not conspicuous where he sat, all about him was a tumult of bright and broken color, scattered in broad splashes. The rapids were foam white or golden ruddy, were deep, shining green brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sown thickly with wet black rocks, here and there glinting with purple. The mergancer had a crested head of iridescent green black, a broad collar of lustrous white, black back, black and white wings, white belly, sides, finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich chestnut red, streaked with black. His feet were red, his long, narrow beak, with its saw toothed edges and sharp hooked tip was bright red. In every line and hue. He was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite, before his powers, his beak, with its keen toothed edges, was a formidable weapon, by means of which he could doubtless have captured, disabled, and dragged ashore, even a fish of a pound or so in weight, but here he was at a terrible disadvantage, as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles, he had no rending claws. But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent, and disappeared beneath the surface. A watcher directly overhead, escaping the baffling reflections, might have seen him swimming, head outstretched, mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes, fairly outspeeding the fish in their own element, near the limit of the clear water, he overtook, and seized the quarry, which he had marked, a trout not far from 7 inches in length, the saw toothed edges of his beak, gripped it securely, and he rose with it to the surface, just where the chute was breaking into a smother of trampled foam. With a furious flapping of wings, he lifted himself almost clear of the flood, and beat along the tossed surface, dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight. Once fairly a wing. However, he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch. Here he proceeded to swallow his prize head first. It was a long, difficult choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted. But a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and after many an undignified paroxysm, he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that, even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green winged teal was beating his way above the tree tops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart. A mighty flier, his short muscular wings drove him through the air at a speed, not much less than 90 or 100 miles an hour, but behind him, overtaking him inexorably came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duck hawk." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 8428.9, "words": 685, "errors": 18, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It directly overhung a transparent amber brown chute of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of north fork rapids. The strange mannered duck had no proper talons, wherewith to grasp his perch, but his strong clawed webs held him steadily. None the less, as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent. Here, where the North Fork Stream fell into the Odenunis, was a resort exactly to his liking, and most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down, either the fork or the parent river, chose to pass through that sleuth of swift, but unbroken floe immediately beneath the overhanging branch. On which he perched for all the splendor of his plumage, the meganser was not conspicuous where he sat all about him was a tumult of bright and broken color, scattered and broad splashes. The rapids were foam white. Or golden ruddy or deep shining green brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sown thickly with wet black rocks here and there glinting with purple. The merganser had a crested head of iridescent, green black, a broad collar of lustrous, white, black back, black and white wings, white belly sides, finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich, chestnut, red streaked with black. His feet were red, his long, narrow beak with its saw toothed edges and sharp hooked tip was bright red in every line and hue, he was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite before his powers, his beak with its keen toothed edges was a formidable weapon by means of which he could doubtless have captured disabled and dragged ashore, even a fish of a pound or so in weight. But here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles. He had no rending claws, but suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface. A watcher directly overhead, escaping the baffling reflections, might have seen him swimming, head outstretched, mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes. Fairly out speeding the fish in their own element near the limit of the clear water, he overtook and seized the quarry which he had marked a trout, not far from 7 inches in length, the saw toothed edges of his beak, gripped it securely, and he rose with it to the surface, just where the chute was breaking into a smother of trampled foam. With a furious flapping of wings, he lifted himself almost clear of the flood and beat along the tossed surface, dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight. Once fairly a wing However, he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch. Here he proceeded to swallow his prize head first. It was a long, difficult, choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted, but a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and after many an undignified paroxysm, he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that, even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time in the clear blue overhead, a green winged teal was beating his way above the tree tops making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart, a mighty flier, his short muscular wings drove him through the air at a speed, not much less than 90 or 100 miles an hour, but behind him. Overtaking him inexorably came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duck hawk." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 4961.2, "words": 754, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The successful prayer light is indeed a man to be envied, leaving aside for the moment, the question of super tax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly, spelt on buses, which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and west Norwood, and his name spelt incorrectly beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect, who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play, actor managers nod to him. Editors allow him to contribute without charge to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and if he is not careful, somebody will say so. But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments. Now he says he's writing a play, and we look around the spacious lawns and terraces and marvel at the run his last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs. Your play must be not merely a good play, but a successful one. How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say? How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you. But suppose you said, I'm fond of writing, my people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've got a little idea for a play about a man, and a woman, and another woman, and but perhaps I better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting, and I can do the dialogue all right. Suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, you have come to the right shop. Lend me your ear for 10 minutes, and you shall learn just what stagecraft is, and I should begin with a short homily on soliloquy. If you ever read your Shakespeare, and no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, he may always pick up something in them which may be useful for his next play. If you ever read your Shakespeare, it is possible that you have come across this passage. Enter Hamlet, ham, to be or not to be, and so on in the same vein for some 30 lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now the object of this soliloquy is plain. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the nostrils, and exploring the lower molars with the tongue, by which it is possible to denote respectively, surprise, defiance, and doubt. Indeed, irresolution being the keynote of Hamlet's soliloquy, a clever player could to some extent indicate the whole 30 lines by a silage working of the job. But at the same time, it would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns to take only one line would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being, we moderns, however, see the absurdity of it, if it be granted, 1st, that the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, and secondly, that soliloquy, or the habit of thinking aloud, is in opposition to modern stage technique, how shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, there are more ways than one, and now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, in this play we have been talking about an easy way of avoiding Hamlet's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak 1st. I am wondering whether to be or not to be, whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer, and so on, till you get to the end when Ophelia might say, ah, yes, or something noncommittal of that sort. This would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying hamlet salts to the audience in rather a clever manner." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 6539.1, "words": 754, "errors": 15, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The successful prayer light is indeed a man to be envied, leaving aside for the moment, the question of super tax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly spelt on buses, which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and west Norwood, and his name spelt. Incorrectly, beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect, who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play. Actor managers nod to him. Editors allow him to contribute without charge to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and if he is not careful, somebody will say so, but even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments Now he says he is writing a play, and we look around the spacious lawns and terraces, and marvel at the run. His last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs. Your play must be not merely a good play, but a successful one How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say. How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you but suppose you said I'm fond of writing. My people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've got a little idea for a play about a man and a woman and another woman and but perhaps I'd better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting and I can do the dialogue all right. Suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, you have come to the right shop. Lend me your ear for 10 minutes, and you shall learn just what stagecraft is, and I should begin with a short homily on. Soliloquy If you ever read your Shakespeare, and no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, he may always pick up something in them, which may be useful for his next play. If you ever read your Shakespeare, it is possible that you have come across his passage. Enter hamlet hem to be or not to be and so on in the same vein for some 30 lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now the object of this soliloquy is plain. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the nostrils and exploring the lower molars with the tongue, by which it is possible to denote respectively, surprise. Defiance and doubt, indeed, irresolution being the keynote of Hamlet's soliloquy, a clever player could, to some extent, indicate the whole 30 lines by a silage working of the job. But at the same time, it would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns to take only one line would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being we moderns, however, see the absurdity of it, if it be granted first that the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, and secondly. That soliloquy, or the habit of thinking aloud, is in opposition to modern stage technique. How will soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, there are more ways than one. And now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, in this play, we have been talking about an easy way of avoiding Hamlet's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak 1st. hem. I am wondering, whether to be or not to be, whether TIS nobler in the mind to suffer. And so on till you get to the end, when Ophelia might say ah, yes, or something non-committal of that sort, this would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying hamlet thoughts to the audience in rather a clever manner." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 5292.9, "words": 543, "errors": 16, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The bogus legislature numbered 36 members. This was at the march election 1855 that summer's emigration, however, being mainly from the free states greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties for general service, therefore requiring no special effort. The numerical strength of the factions was about equal while on extraordinary occasions, the 2000 border ruffian reserve lying a little farther back from the state line could at any time easily turned the scale. The Free State men had only their convictions, their intelligence, their courage, and the moral support of the North. The conspiracy had its secret combination, the territorial officials, the legislature, the bogus laws, the courts, the militia officers, the president, and the army. This was a formidable array of advantages. Slavery was playing with loaded dice. With such a radical opposition of sentiment, both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground, the bogus laws having been enacted, and the free state men, having at the big springs conventioned resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them to a bloody issue. The conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority. Opportunely for them, about this time Governor Shannon, appointed to succeed Reader, arrived in the Territory. Coming by way of the Missouri River towns, he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences, and perhaps having his inclinations already molded by his Washington instructions, his early impressions were decidedly adverse to the free state cause. His reception speech at Westport, in which he maintained the legality of the legislature, and his determination to enforce their laws, delighted his pro slavery auditors. All the territorial dignitaries were present. Governor Shannon presided, John Calhoun, the surveyor general, made the principal speech, a denunciation of the abolitionist, supporting the Topeka movement. Chief Justice Lecomte dignified the occasion with approving remarks. All dissent, all non compliance, all hesitation, all mere silence, even, were in their stronghold towns, like Leavenworth, branded as abolitionism, declared to be hostility to the public welfare, and punished with proscription, personal violence, expulsion, and frequently death. Of the lynchings, the mobs, and the murders. It would be impossible, except in a very extended work, to note the frequent and atrocious details. The present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the civil war in Kansas, which, happily, are not sanguinary. If, however, the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described, they would show a startling aggregate of barbarity and a loss of life for opinion's sake. Some of these revolting crimes, though comparatively few in number, were committed, generally in the spirit of lawless retaliation, by free State men. Several hundred Free State men promptly responded to the summons. The Free State Hotel served as barracks. It was, in fact, the best weapon of its day. The free state volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the east, and their range, rapidity, and effectiveness had been not only duly set forth, but highly exaggerated by many marvelous stories throughout the territory, and along the border. The leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 6223.3, "words": 543, "errors": 19, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The bogus legislature numbered 36 members. This was at the march election 1855 that summer's emigration, however being mainly from the free states greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties. For general service, therefore requiring no special effort, the numerical strength of the factions was about equal while on extraordinary occasions, the 2000 border ruffian reserve. Lying a little farther back from the state line, could at any time easily turn the scale, the free state men had only their convictions, their intelligence, their courage, and the moral support of the north, the conspiracy. Had its secret combination, the territorial officials, the legislature, the bogus laws, the militia officers, the president, and the army. This was a formidable array of advantages. Slavery was playing with loaded dice with such a radical opposition of sentiment. Both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground. The bogus laws having been enacted, and the free state men having at the big springs conventioned resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them. To a bloody issue, the conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority opportunely for them about this time. Governor Shannon appointed to succeed reader arrived in the territory. Common by way of the Missouri river towns, he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences, and perhaps having his inclinations already molded by his Washington instructions. His early impressions were decidedly adverse to the free state cause. His reception speech at Westport, in which he maintained the legality of the legislature and his determination to enforce their laws, delighted, his pro slavery auditors. All the territorial dignitaries were present governor Shannon presided. John Calhoun, the surveyor general, made the principal speech, a denunciation of the abolitionist supporting the Topeka movement, chief justice, Lecomte, dignified the occasion with approving remarks. All dissent, all non-compliance, all hesitation, all mere silence, even were in their stronghold towns, like Leavenworth branded as abolitionism. Declared to be hostility to the public welfare and punished with proscription, personal violence, expulsion, and frequently death of the lynchings, the mobs, and the murders. It would be impossible, except in a very extended work to note the frequent and atrocious details. The present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the civil war in Kansas, which happily are not sanguinary. If, however, the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described, they would show a startling aggregate of. Barbarity, and a loss of life for opinion's sake, some of these revolting crimes, though comparatively few in number were committed, generally in the spirit of Wallace retaliation by free state men. Several hundred free state men promptly responded to the summons. The free state hotel served as barracks. It was in fact, the best weapon of its day. The free state volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the east and their range, rapidity and effectiveness. Had been not only duly set forth, but highly exaggerated by many marvelous stories throughout the territory, and along the border, the leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 4342.7, "words": 465, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In the second insurrection, a great military command was entrusted to him by the Covenanters, and he was the first that passed the tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of England. He found means, however, soon after, to convey a letter to the king, and by the infidelity of some about that prince, Hamilton, as was suspected, a copy of this letter was sent to Leven, the Scottish general, being accused of treachery and a correspondence with the enemy, Montrose openly avowed the letter, and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign an enemy enemy. And by this bold and magnanimous behavior, he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution. As he was now fully known to be of the royal party, he no longer concealed his principles, and he endeavored to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master's service. Though thrown into prison for this enterprise, and detained some time, he was not discouraged, but still continued by his countenance and protection, to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists. Among other persons of distinction, who united themselves to him, was Lord Napier of Merchiston, son of the famous inventor of the logarithms, the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced. Being accused by Lord Ray, not without some appearance of probability, of a conspiracy against the king. Charles was so far from harboring suspicion against him, that the very first time Hamilton came to court, he received him into his bed chamber, and passed alone the night with him. But such was the duke's unhappy fate or conduct, that he escaped, not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign, and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service, his integrity and sincerity have not been thought, by historians, entirely free from blemish, while the former foretold that the Scottish Covenanters were secretly forming a union with the English parliament, and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking. The latter still insisted, that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not, perhaps, inclined. Unhappily for the royal cause, Hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of Montrose, and the Covenanters were allowed without interruption to proceed in all their hostile measures. Montrose then hastened to Oxford, where his invectives against Hamilton's treachery, concurring with the general prepossession, and supported by the unfortunate event of his councils, were entered with universal probation. His brother, Laneric, who was also put under confinement, found means to make his escape, and to fly into Scotland." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 5702.2, "words": 465, "errors": 8, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "In the second insurrection, a great military command was entrusted to him by the Covenanters, and he was the first that passed the tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of England. He found means, however, soon after to convey a letter to the king, and by the infidelity of some about that prince Hamilton, as was suspected, a copy of this letter was sent to Leven, the Scottish general. Being accused of treachery and correspondence with the enemy, Montrose openly avowed the letter and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign, an enemy. And by this bold and magnanimous behavior, he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution as he was now fully known to be of the royal party he no longer concealed his principles. And he endeavored to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master service, though thrown into prison for this enterprise and detained some time. He was not discouraged, but still continued by his countenance and protection to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists. Among other persons of distinction who united themselves to him was lord Napier of Merchiston. Son of the famous inventor of the logarithms, the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced. Being accused by lord ray, not without some appearance of probability of a conspiracy against the king, Charles was so far from harboring suspicion against him that the very first time Hamilton came to court. He received him into his bedchamber, and passed alone the night with him, but such was the duke's unhappy fate or conduct. That he escaped not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign, and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service, his integrity and sincerity have not been thought by historians entirely free from blemish. While the former foretold that the Scottish Covenanters were secretly forming a union with the English parliament, and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking. The latter still insisted that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not, perhaps, inclined. Unhappily for the royal cause, Hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of Montrose, and the Covenanters were allowed, without interruption, to proceed in all their hostile measures. Montrose then hastened to Oxford, where his invectives against Hamilton's treachery, concurring with the general prepossession, and supported by the unfortunate event of his councils, were entered with universal probation. His brother laneric, who was also put under confinement, found means to make his escape, and to fly into Scotland." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 4371.9, "words": 515, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He rode before a portmanteau, and called himself Ashburnham's servant. He passed through Henley, St. Albans, and came so near to London as Harrow on the hill. He once entertained thoughts of entering into that city, and of throwing himself on the mercy of the parliament, but at last, after passing through many cross roads, he arrived at the Scottish camp before Newark. The parliament, hearing of his escape from Oxford, issued rigorous orders, and threatened with instant death, whoever should harbor or conceal him. The Scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise on the appearance of the king, and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity, they instantly set a guard upon him under color of protection, and made him, in reality, a prisoner. They informed the English parliament of this unexpected incident, and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the king. They applied to him for orders to Bellasis, governor of Newark, to surrender that town, now reduced to extremity, and the orders were instantly obeyed. It was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news, and on every great event, the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion. Have we eaten at all of the king's cost? Or hath he given us any gift? And the men of Israel answered the men of Judah, and said, \"We have ten parts in the king, and we have also more right in David than ye.\" Why, then, did ye despise us? That our advice should not be first had in bringing back our king. And the words of the men of Judah were fiercer than the words of the men of Israel. Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung, \"Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, thy wicked deeds, to praise?\" The king stood up, and called for that psalm which begins with these words, \"Have mercy, Lord, on me, I pray, for men would me devour.\" The good natured audience, in pity to fallen majesty, showed for once greater deference to the king than to the minister, and sung the psalm which the former had called for. Charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation. The terms given to most of them were honorable, and Fairfax, as far as it lay in his power, was very exact in observing them. Far from allowing violence, he would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity, so cruel a civil war was ended, in appearance, very calmly between the parties. Ormond, having received like orders, delivered Dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers. Montrose also, after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune, threw down his arms, and retired out of the kingdom. The Marquis of Worcester, a man passed eighty four, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 6114.0, "words": 515, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He rode before a portmanteau, and called himself Ashburnham's servant. He passed through Henley, St. Albans, and came so near to London as Harrow on the hill. He once entertained thoughts of entering into that city, and of throwing himself on the mercy of the parliament, but at last, after passing through many cross roads, he arrived at the Scottish camp before Newark. The parliament, hearing of his escape from Oxford, issued rigorous orders, and threatened, with instant death, whoever should harbor or conceal him. The Scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise on the appearance of the king, and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity. They instantly set a guard upon him under color of protection, and made him in reality, a prisoner. They informed the English parliament of this unexpected incident, and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the king. They applied to him for orders to Bellasis, governor of Newark, to surrender that town, now reduced to extremity, and the orders were instantly obeyed. It was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news, and on every great event, the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion. Have we eaten at all of the king's cost? Or hath he given us any gift? And the men of Israel answered the men of Judah, and said, \"We have ten parts in the king, and we have also more right in David than ye.\" Why, then, did ye despise us, that our advice should not be first had, in bringing back our king, and the words of the men of Judah, were fiercer than the words of the men of Israel? Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung, \"Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, thy wicked deeds to praise? The king stood up, and called for that psalm which begins with these words, \"Have mercy, Lord, on me, I pray, for men would me devour.\" The good natured audience, in pity to fallen majesty, showed for once greater deference to the king than to the minister, and sung the psalm which the former had called for. Charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation. The terms given to most of them were honorable, and Fairfax, as far as it lay in his power, was very exact in observing them, far from allowing violence. He would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity, so cruel a civil war was ended, in appearance, very calmly between the parties. Ormond? Having received like orders, delivered Dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers, Montrose also, after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune, threw down his arms, and retired out of the kingdom. The Marquis of Worcester, a man passed eighty four, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 4094.7, "words": 577, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Memory, which we are to consider to day introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms, the analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the 13th lecture and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise. I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be effected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorist employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures in the present lecture, I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory, in some form, is presupposed in almost all other knowledge. Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge. It might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i.e. with that integral experience of things and the environment, out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis. What is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates, images, and expectations of their usual correlates, all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation. The purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult, though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the non-sensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems, which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture I alluded to Hume's principle, that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions, which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. Whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions, every one would agree that it has a broad measure of truth, though the word exactly might seem an overstatement, and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions. What sort of evidence, is there? And what sort of evidence is logically possible? The difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory, while, on the other hand, memory of past sensations, seems only possible by means of present images. How, then, are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute, if we say that images differ from their prototypes, as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred, or even that the past should have existed at all. There is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was, with a population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now, or will happen in the future, can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I am not suggesting that the non existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 5865.0, "words": 577, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Memory, which we are to consider to day introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms, the analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the 13th lecture and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise. I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be effected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorists employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures in the present lecture. I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory in some form Is presupposed in almost all other knowledge sensation, we decided is not a form of knowledge it might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i. e. with that integral experience of things and the environment. Out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis, what is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates. Images and expectations of their usual correlates all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation, the purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult. Though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the non-sensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture, I alluded to Hume's principle that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. Whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions, every one would agree that it has a broad measure of truth, though the word exactly might seem an overstatement, and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions. What sort of evidence is there? And what sort of evidence is logically possible, the difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past, when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory while. On the other hand, memory of past sensations seems only possible by means of present images. How then are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute if we say that images differ from their prototypes, as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred. Or even that the past should have existed at all, there is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was with the population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now or will happen in the future can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I am not suggesting that the non-existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 3932.4, "words": 681, "errors": 18, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The new governor, so said I to myself because of jack and his love, all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed. It was for that that I wept. I wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world. I remained there alone for many hours, but I must acknowledge that before I left the chambers. I had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light had Eva Cressweller not been good looking had jack been still at college had, sir Kennington oval remained in England. Had mister bunnet, and the bar keeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill. Should I have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend? That was a question which I ought to ask myself. Had Cresweller departed? And had the system then been stopped? Should I not have appeared a murderer even to myself? But though I had been strong enough to originate the idea, I have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the opinions of those around me, when I should have exercised against those dear to me the mandates of the new law. If I could, in the spirit, have leaped over a space of thirty years and been myself deposited in due order. I could see that my memory would have been embalmed with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens. Such had been my ambition, such had been my hope. Had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient Rome. Would the Romans have accepted it, or have stoned Wheatstone? On arriving at home at my own residence, I found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company. We did not usually use the room, but on entering the house, I heard the clatter of conversation and went in. He rose to meet me, and I saw that he was a handsome tall man about 40, with a determined face and a winning smile. Mr. President, said he, I am in command of her majesty's gunboat, the John Bright, and I have come to pay my respects to the ladies. I am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you. I look round the room and there, with other of our fair citizens. I saw Eva. As I spoke, I made him a gracious bow, and I think I showed him by my mode of address that I did not bear any grudge as to my individual self. I have come to your shores, Mr. President, with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world. Things were progressing, captain battle ax pretty well before this morning. We have our little struggles here as elsewhere, and all things cannot be done by rosewater. We are quite satisfied now, Captain Battle Axe, said my wife. Quite satisfied, said Eva. I am sure we are all delighted to hear the ladies speak in so pleasant a manner. said first lieutenant crosstrees, an officer with whom I have since become particularly intimate. Then there was a little pause in the conversation, and I felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which I had this morning been subjected. And yet, that something must be playful in its nature. I must by no means show in such company, as was now present, the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind. You will perceive, captain battle axe, that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony, which was to have been accomplished this morning. The ladies, in compliance with that softness of heart, which is their characteristic, are on one side. And the men, by whom the world has to be managed, or on the other. No doubt, in process of time, the ladies will follow. Their masters, said missus Neverbend. This was a pretty little speech enough. and received the eager compliments of the officers of the John Bright." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 6194.0, "words": 681, "errors": 16, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The new governor, so said I to myself because of jack and his love, all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed. It was for that that I wept. I wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world. I remained there alone for many hours, but I must acknowledge that before I left the chambers. I had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light. Had Eva Cressweller not been good looking had jack been still at college had, sir Kennington oval remained in England, had mister bunnett, and the barkeeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill? Should I have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend? That was a question which I ought to ask myself had cressweller departed and had the system then been stopped? Should I not have appeared a murderer even to myself? But though I have been strong enough to originate the idea, I have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the opinions of those around me when I should have exercise against those, dear to me, the mandates of the new law. If I could, in the spirit, have leaped over a space of 30 years and been myself deposited in due order, I could see that my memory would have been embalmed with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens. Such had been my ambition, such had been my hope had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient Rome, would the Romans have accepted it or have stoned Wheatstone on arriving at home at my own residence. I found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company. We did not usually use the room, but on entering the house, I heard the clatter of conversation and went in, he rose to meet me, and I saw that he was a handsome tall man about 40 with a determined face and a winning smile. Mister president said he, I am in command of her majesty's gunboat the John bright, and I have come to pay my respects to the ladies. I am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you. I look round the room and there with other of our fair citizens. I saw Eva as I spoke. I made him a gracious bow, and I think I showed him by my mode of address that I did not bear any grudge as to my individual self. I have come to your shores, mister president with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world. Things were progressing captain battle ax pretty well before this morning. We have our little struggles here as elsewhere, and all things cannot be done by rose water. We are quite satisfied now. captain battle ax said my wife. Quite satisfied, said Eva. I am sure we are all delighted to hear the ladies speak in so pleasant a manner, said first lieutenant crosstrees, an officer with whom I have since become particularly intimate. Then there was a little pause in the conversation, and I felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which I had this morning been subjected. And yet that something must be playful in its nature, I must by no means show in such company, as was now present, the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind. You will perceive, Captain Battle Axe, that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony, which was to have been accomplished this morning. The ladies in compliance with that softness of heart, which is their characteristic are on one side, and the men by whom the world has to be managed are on the other. No doubt, in process of time, the ladies will follow. Their masters, said missus Neverbend. This was a pretty little speech enough, and received the eager compliments of the officers of the John bright." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 5050.5, "words": 680, "errors": 21, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "While this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy, still, they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage, the treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford, and the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and corn cake for a diet. Julius, who was successful enough to bring his wife and a boy with him was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions. Nor was he all muscled by a great deal. He was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness. In looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered, he could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced, from which it was evidence that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. Especially, was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely, or of good report belonging to the system. Julius had been kept in the dark in Maryland, but on free soil, the light rushed in upon his astonished vision, to a degree almost bewildering. That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit, since they were obtained from unpaid labor. In his review, allusion was made not only to his master, but also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman, middling stout. This was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections, and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward. It is hardly necessary to say more of them here. Henry was about twenty three years of age. of an active turn, brown skin, and had given the question of freedom his most serious attention, as his actions proved. While he could neither read nor write, he could think. From the manner in which he expressed himself, with regard to Robert Holland, no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he. His enthrallment while under Holland will hardly ever be forgotten. Of this party, Edward, a boy of seventeen, called forth much sympathy. He, too, was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical make up, and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely, a residence in Canada. Arrival from Maryland, 1858 John Wesley Combash. Jacob Taylor, and Thomas Edward Skinner. The revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to, and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt. John Wesley was thirty two years of age, of a lively turn, pleasant countenance, dark color and ordinary size. In unburdening his mind to the committee, the all absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave, and the character of those who had oppressed him. He stated that he had been a victim of a man or party, named Johnson, in whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high handed phases of barbarism. Said he, these Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants, a few years back, one of their slaves, a coachman was kept on the coach box one cold night, when they were out at a ball, until he became almost frozen to death. In fact, he did die in the infirmary, from the effects of the frost, about one week afterwards. Another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state. Who was one day knocked downstairs by Mrs. Johnson herself, and in a few weeks after, the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received. The doctor who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 5937.8, "words": 680, "errors": 24, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "While this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy, still, they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage, the treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford. And the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and corn cake for a diet. Julius, who was successful enough to bring his wife and boy with him was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions, nor was he all muscled by a great deal. He was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness in looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered. He could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced from which it was evident that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. Especially was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely or of good report belonging to the system. Julius had been kept in the dark in Maryland, but on free soil, the light rushed in upon his astonished vision to a degree almost bewildering. That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit since they were obtained from unpaid labor. In his review, allusion was made, not only to his master. But also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman middling stout, this was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections, and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward. It is hardly necessary to say more of them here. Henry was about 23 years of age of an active turn brown skin and had given the question of freedom. His most serious attention as his actions proved while he could neither read nor write, he could think. From the manner in which he expressed himself with regard to Robert Holland, no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he, his enthrallment while under Holland will hardly ever be forgotten of this party. Edward, a boy of 17 called forth much sympathy. He too, was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical make up and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely, a residence in Canada a rival from Maryland 1858. John Wesley, combash, Jacob, Taylor, and Thomas Edward skinner. The revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to, and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt. John Wesley was thirty two years of age of a lively turn, pleasant countenance, dark color, and ordinary size in unburdening his mind to the committee. The all absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave, and the character of those who had oppressed him, he stated that he had been a victim of a man or party named Johnson. In whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high handed phases of barbarism, said he, these Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants, a few years back, one of their slaves, a coachman. Was kept on the coach box one cold night when they were out at a ball until he became almost frozen to death. In fact, he did die in the infirmary from the effects of the frost about one week afterwards. Another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state, who was one day knocked downstairs by Mrs. Johnson herself, and in a few weeks after, the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received. The Doctor Who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 4987.5, "words": 511, "errors": 27, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us, admits professor Aronnax early in this novel. What goes on in those distant depths what creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions 12 or 15 miles beneath the surface of the water. It's almost beyond conjecture. This reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of 20,000 leagues under the seas born in the French river town of Nantes. Fern had a life long passion for the sea, first as a Paris stockbroker, later as a celebrated author and yachtsman, he went on frequent voyages, to Britain, America, the Mediterranean, but the specific stimulus for this novel was an 1865 fan letter from a fellow writer, Madame George Sand. Thus inspired, Verne created one of literature's great rebels, a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare. Initially, Verne's narrative was influenced by the 1863 uprising of Poland against tsarist Russia. Nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine, the Nautilus, then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor. Verne reworked its political content, devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy, information revealed only in a later novel, The Mysterious Island, 1875. In the present work, Nemo's background remains a dark secret. In all, the novel had a difficult gestation. These observations partly apply here. Shark attacks, giant squid, cannibals, hurricanes, whale hunts, and other rip roaring adventures erupt almost at random. These unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum. Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information, and insight. Vern regards the sea from many angles. In the domain of marine biology, he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish, seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogues that swirl past like musical cascades, in the realm of geology, he studied volcanoes, literally inside and out, in the world of commerce, he celebrates the high energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic cable or dig the Suez Canal, and Verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative. His specifications for an open sea submarine, and a self containing diving suit were decades before their time. Yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly. True, to day's scientists know a few things he didn't. The south pole isn't at the water's edge, but far inland. Sharks don't flip over before attacking. Giant squids sport 10 tentacles, not eight, sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins. This, notwithstanding, Verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of Jacques Cousteau and technicolor film. Lastly, the book has stature as a novel of character. Even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn. Professor Aronnax, the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict. Conseil, the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous taglines for Verne's fast facts. The harpooner, Ned Land, a creature of constant appetites, man as heroic animal. But much of the novel's brooding power comes from Captain Nemo." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 5758.8, "words": 511, "errors": 29, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us, admits professor Aronnax early in this novel. What goes on in those distant depths what creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions 12 or 15 miles beneath the surface of the water. It's almost beyond conjecture. This reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of 20,000 leagues under the seas born in the French river town of Nantes. Fern had a life, long passion for the sea. First as a Paris stockbroker later as a celebrated author and yachtsman, he went on frequent voyages to Britain, America, the Mediterranean But the specific stimulus for this novel was an 1865 fan letter from a fellow writer madame George Sand, thus inspired. Verne created one of literature's great rebels. A freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare initially. Verne's narrative was influenced by the 1863 uprising of Poland against tsarist Russia. Nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine, the nautilus, then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor. Verne reworked its political content. Devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy information revealed only in a later novel, the mysterious island 1875 in the present work Nemo's background remains a dark secret. In all the novel had a difficult gestation. These observations partly apply here, shark attacks, giant, squid, cannibals, hurricanes, whale hunts, and other riproaring adventures erupt, almost at random. These unifying threads, tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum. Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information and insight. Vern regards the sea from many angles in the domain of marine biology. He gives us thumbnail, sketches of fish. Seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogues that swirl past like musical cascades in the realm of geology. He studied volcanoes, literally inside and out. In the world of commerce, he celebrates the high energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic cable or dig the Suez canal, and Verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative. His specifications for an open sea submarine and a self containing diving suit were decades before their time yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly. True, to day's scientists know a few things he didn't. The South Pole isn't at the water's edge, but far inland. Sharks don't flip over before attacking. Giant squids sport 10 tentacles, not eight sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins. This, notwithstanding Verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of Jacques Cousteau, and technicolor film. Lastly, the book has stature as a novel of character. Even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn professor Aronnax, the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict. Conseil, the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous taglines for Verne's fast facts. The harpooner Ned land, a creature of constant appetites, man as heroic animal, but much of the novel's brooding power comes from captain Nemo." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 5519.7, "words": 620, "errors": 22, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 3, as master wishes three seconds before the arrival of j b Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the north west passage three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable secretary of the navy. I understood at last that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it, even so I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections, but now nothing could hold me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused, all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France. That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas, as a personal favorite to me, and I'll bring back to the Museum of Natural History, at least half a meter of its ivory lance. Conseil was my man servant, a devoted lad who went with me on all my journeys, a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked, and who returned the compliment, a born stoic, punctilious on principle, habitually hard working, rarely startled by life surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means counsel, never giving advice, not even the unsolicited kind. From rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two. In Conseil, I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, orders, families, genera, sub genera, species, and varieties, but there his science came to a halt. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. Well versed in the theory of classification. He was poorly versed in its practical application, and I doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale, and yet what a fine, gallant lad. For the past 10 years, Conseil had gone with me wherever science beckoned. Not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey. Never did he object to buckling up his suit case for any country whatever. China or the Congo, no matter how far off it was. He went here, there, and everywhere in perfect contentment. The lad was 30 years old, and his age to that of his employer was as 15 is to 20. Please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that I had turned 40. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person, to the point where it got tiresome Conseil. I repeated while feverishly beginning my preparations for departure. To be sure, I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely, a hazardous undertaking, whose purpose was to hunt an animal that could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell. There was good reason to stop and think, even for the world's most emotionless man. What would Conseil say? Conseil? I called a third time Conseil appeared. Dead master summon me, he said, entering, we're departing in two hours, as master wishes, Conseil replied serenely, we haven't a moment to lose." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 6490.9, "words": 620, "errors": 23, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 3, as master wishes three seconds before the arrival of j b Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the north west passage. Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable secretary of the navy, I understood at last that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it. Even so, I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends. My modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections, but now nothing could hold me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused all roads lead home to Europe. And our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France that fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas as a personal favorite to me, and I'll bring back to the museum of natural history at least half a meter of its ivory lance. Conseil was my man servant, a devoted lad, who went with me on all my journeys, a gallant Flemish boy, whom I genuinely liked, and who returned the compliment, a born stoic. Punctilious on principle, habitually hard working, rarely startled by life surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means counsel, never giving advice. Not even the unsolicited kind from rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two in Conseil, I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification. An enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, sub classes, orders, families, genera, species, and varieties, but there his science came to a halt. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else well versed in the theory of classification. He was poorly versed in its practical application, and I doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale, and yet what a fine gallant lad. For the past 10 years, Conseil had gone with me wherever science beckoned, not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey, never did he object to buckling up his suit case for any country whatever china or the Congo. No matter how far off it was, he went here there and everywhere in perfect contentment, the lad was 30 years old, and his age to that of his employer was as 15 is to 20. Please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that I had turned 40. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person to the point where it got tiresome Conseil. I repeated. While feverishly beginning my preparations for departure to be sure, I had confidence in this devoted lad, ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely. A hazardous undertaking, whose purpose was to hunt an animal, it could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell. There was good reason to stop and think even for the world's most emotionless man. What would Conseil say? Conseil, I called a third time Conseil appeared, dead master summon me he said, entering, we're departing in two hours as master wishes. Conseil replied serenely. We haven't a moment to lose." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 5386.6, "words": 752, "errors": 19, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He found the cord still tied to his big toe, and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing room, while he put on his clothes, the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt cap 'n bill's big toe, and make him yell, but as no response came to this mean action, the Boolooroo finally looked into the room, only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch, and that his prisoner had escaped. Then he flew into a mighty rage, and running out into the hall, he aimed a blow with the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. Then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers, and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions that the sailor man was not recaptured. While the Boolooroo stormed and raged, a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in, surrounding Cap'n Bill, who was again firmly bound. \"So ho!\" No one can resist the mighty Boolooroo of the Blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. Hold him fast, my men, and as soon as I've had my coffee and oatmeal. I'll take him to the room of the great knife, and patch him. \"I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself,\" said Cap'n Bill. I've had considerable exercise this mornin', and I'm all ready for breakfast. Very well, replied the Boolooroo. You shall eat with me, for then I can keep an eye on you. My guards are not to be trusted, and I don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched.\" So Cap'n Bill and the Boolooroo had breakfast together. Six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailorman to grab him if he attempted to escape. But Cap'n Bill made no such attempt. knowing it would be useless. Trot was in the room, too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save Cap'n Bill from being patched. No one could see her, so no one, not even Cap'n Bill, knew she was there. After breakfast was over, a procession was formed, headed by the Boolooroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife. Invisible Trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend. As soon as they entered the room of the Great Knife, the Boolooroo gave a yell of disappointment. The frightened soldiers hurried away to find Tiggle, and Trot was well pleased, because she knew Tiggle was by this time safely hidden. The Boolooroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring Cap'n Bull should be patched whether Tiggle was found or not, and while they waited, Trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. The room of the Great Knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. In one place, at the head of the room, was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen, and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snow nosed princesses. The poor Queen, by the way, was seldom seen. As she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years, she would win the game. Therefore Her Majesty paid no attention to any one, and no one paid any attention to her. In the centre of the room stood the terrible night that gave the place its name, a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the Blue City. The knife was built into a huge framework, like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the Boolooroo pulled a cord, the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it, and in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame, to which the prisoner was tied, so that he couldn't wiggle either way. This frame was on rollers, so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 7001.6, "words": 752, "errors": 19, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He found the cord still tied to his big toe, and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing room while he put on his clothes, the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt cap 'n bill's big toe, and make him yell. But as no response came to this mean action, the Boolooroo finally looked into the room, only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch, and that his prisoner had escaped. Then he flew into a mighty rage, and running out into the hall, he aimed a blow with the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. Then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers, and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions that the sailor man was not recaptured. While the Boolooroo stormed and raged, a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in surrounding Cap'n Bill, who was again firmly bound. So ho! No one can resist the mighty boolooroo of the blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. Hold him fast, my men, and as soon as I've had my coffee and oatmeal. I'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him. I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself, said cap 'n bill. I've had considerable exercise this morning and I'm all ready for breakfast very well, replied the boolooroo. You shall eat with me, for then I can keep an eye on you. My guards are not to be trusted, and I don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched. So cap 'n bill and the Boolooroo had breakfast together, six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailor men to grab him if he attempted to escape, but cap 'n bill made no such attempt. Knowing it would be useless, trot was in the room, too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save cap 'n bill from being patched. No one could see her, so no one, not even cap'n Bill, knew she was there. After breakfast was over, a procession was formed, headed by the Boolooroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the Great Knife. Invisible trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend. As soon as they entered the room of the great knife, the boolooroo gave a yell of disappointment. The frightened soldiers hurried away to find Tiggle, and Trot was well pleased because she knew Tiggle was by this time safely hidden. The Boolooroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring cap 'n bill should be patched whether Tiggle was found or not, and while they waited, trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. The room of the Great Knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. In one place, at the head of the room, was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen, and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snow nosed princesses. The poor Queen, by the way, was seldom seen. As she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years, she would win the game. Therefore, her majesty paid no attention to any one, and no one paid any attention to her. In the center of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name, a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the blue city. The knife was built into a huge framework, like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the Boolooroo pulled a cord, the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it. And in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame, to which the prisoner was tied, so that he couldn't wiggle either way. This frame was on rollers, so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 5074.8, "words": 675, "errors": 24, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "So they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen, and in a short time, the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap 'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. In this order they proceeded to the main gate, which trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. Then they all marched out a little way into the fields, and found that the army of pinkies had already formed, and was advancing steadily toward them. At the head of the pinkies were ghip ghisizzle and button bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by Captain Coralie and Captain Tin Tin and Rosalie, the witch. They had decided to capture the Blue City at all hazards, that they might rescue Trot and Cap'n Bill and conquer the Boolooroo. So when, from a distance, they saw the blueskins march from the gate, with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. However, as the two forces came nearer together, Button Bright spied Trot and Cap'n Bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. \"Welcome, friends,\" shouted Cap'n Bill in a loud voice, and \"Welcome,\" cried Trot, and \"Welcome,\" roared the blue soldiers and the people of the Blue City. \"Hooray!\" yelled the parrot, and then he flapped his wings, and barted like a dog with pure delight, and added, as fast as his bird's tongue could speak. Said Button Bright. \"I can't hear myself think.\" The Pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues, and hesitated to advance. But Trot now ran up in front of them, and made a little speech. \"Pinky's,\" said she, \"your queen has conquered the Boolooroo, and is now the Queen of the Blues, all of Sky Island, except the Fog Bank, is now my kingdom, so I woke on my faithful Pinkies to my Blue City, where you are to be royally entertained, and have a good time. The war is over, and everybody must be sociable and happy, or I'll know the reason why. Now, indeed, the Binkies raised a great shout of joy, and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and Rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with Cap'n Bill and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to Trot's shoulder and screeched. When the blueskin saw Ghip Ghisizzle, they raised another great shout, for he was the favorite of the soldiers, and very popular with all the people, but Ghip Ghisizzle did not heed the shouting. He was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the Boolooroo himself. But the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins, and said, \"I escaped from the city, because the Boolooroo tried to patch me, as you all know, and the sixth Snubnosed Princess has tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune. Since last Thursday, I, Ghip Ghisizzle, have been the lawful Boolooroo of the Blue Country. But now that you are conquered by Queen Trot, I suppose I am conquered too, and you have no Boolooroo at all.\" Hooray!\" cried the parrot. When he finished, she said cheerfully, \"Don't worry, Sizzle, dear, it'll all come right pretty soon. Now, then, let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked. I'm nearly starving myself, for this conquering kingdoms is hard work. So the Pinkies and the Blues marched side by side into the city, and there was great rejoicing, and music, and dancing, and feasting, and merry making, that lasted for three full days. The parrot perched upon the back of Queen Trot's chair, and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jolly bird with her again." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 7435.4, "words": 675, "errors": 16, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "So they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen, and in a short time, the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap 'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. In this order they proceeded to the main gate, which Trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. Then they all marched out a little way into the fields, and found that the army of Pinkies had already formed, and was advancing steadily toward them. At the head of the pinkies were ghip ghisizzle and button bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by captain Coralie and captain Tin tin and Rosalie, the witch. They had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards, that they might rescue trot and cap 'n bill and conquer the boolooroo, so when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate, with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. However, as the two forces came nearer together, button bright spied Trot and Cap'n Bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. \"Welcome, friends,\" shouted Cap'n Bill, in a loud voice, and \"Welcome,\" cried Trot, and \"Welcome,\" roared the blue soldiers and the people of the Blue City. Hooray yelled the parrot, and then he flapped his wings and barted like a dog with pure delight, and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak, said button bright. I can't hear myself think. The pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues, and hesitated to advance. But trot now ran up in front of them and made a little speech. Pinkies said she, your queen has conquered the boolooroo, and is now the queen of the blues. All of Sky Island, except the Fog Bank, is now my kingdom, so I welcome my faithful Pinkies to my blue city, where you are to be royally entertained, and have a good time. The war is over, and everybody must be sociable and happy, or I'll know the reason why. Now, indeed, the Binkies raised a great shout of joy, and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and Rosalie kissed the little girl, and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with Cap'n Bill, and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to Trot's shoulder and screeched. When the blueskin saw ghip ghisizzle, they raised another great shout, for he was the favorite of the soldiers, and very popular with all the people, but ghip ghisizzle did not heed the shouting. He was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the boolooroo himself. But the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins, and said, \"I escaped from the city, because the Boolooroo tried to patch me, as you all know. And the six snubnosed princesses tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune since last Thursday. I ghip ghisizzle have been the lawful boolooroo of the blue country, but now that you are conquered by queen trot. I suppose I am conquered too, and you have no boolooroo at all. Hooray cried the parrot when he finished, she said cheerfully, don't worry, sizzle, dear it'll all come right pretty soon now then let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked. I'm nearly starving myself. For this conquering kingdoms is hard work. So the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city, and there was great rejoicing, and music, and dancing, and feasting, and games, and merry making, that lasted for three full. Days. The parrot perched upon the back of Queen Trot's chair, and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jolly bird with her again." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 4474.2, "words": 511, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of color through the sky. That swirl, and sweep, and meet, To break and foam like rainbow villes upon a bubble's dome. Yours are the songs that burst about my ears, Or blow away as many colored spheres, You are the star that made the skies all bright, Yet tore itself away in flaming flight, You are the tree that suddenly awoke, You are the rose that came to life, and spoke. Guided by you, how we might stroll towards death, Our only music, one another's breath, Through gardens intimate with hollyhocks, Where silent poppies burn between the rocks, By pools, where birches bend to confidants, above green waters, scummed with lily plants. There we might wonder, you and I alone, Through gardens filled with marble seats moss grown, And fountains, water threads, that winds, disperse, While in the spray the birds sit and converse. And when the fire flies Mix their circling glow through the dark plants, Then gently might I know your lips, light as the wings of the dragon flies. Merely dreams, fluttering in my eyes. You thought I had forgotten? You thought I had forgotten? Well, I had, although I never guessed I could forget Those few great moments when we both went mad. It was some trick, the way your eyebrows raise, Your hands, some vivid trifle. With a start, then, I remembered how I lived alone, Riding bad poems, and eating out my heart all for your beauty. How the time has flown. Venice, in a sunset glowing of crimson and gold, she lies, the glory of the world, A beached king's galley, whose sails are furled, who is hung with tapestries, rich and old, She is a goddess left for us, veiled with the softening veils of time, her blue veined breasts are now sublime, Her moulded torso, glorious. The pity that we must come and go, While the old gold and the marble stays, Forever gleaming its soft, strong blaze calm in the early evening glow. And still the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track, Light on the tides as lilies, and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets. The new macabre. The pleasant graveyard of my soul, with sentimental cypress trees and flowers Is filled, that I may stroll in meditation at my ease, And while night rustles through the trees, dragging the stars along, I know the moon is rising on the breeze, Quivering as in a river's flow. And, ah, that moon of silver sheen! It is my heart hung in the sky, And no clouds ever float between the grave flowers and my heart on high, I do not read upon each stone the name that once was carven there. I merely note new blossoms blown And breathe the perfume of the air. Thus walk I through my wonderland, While all the evening is a tune. Beneath the cypress trees that stand like candles to the barren moon. To war." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 6439.8, "words": 511, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of color through the sky. That swirl, and sweep, and meet, To break and foam like rainbow villes upon a bubble's dome. Yours are the songs that burst about my ears, Or blow away as many colored spheres. You are the star that made the skies all bright, Yet tore itself away in flaming flight. You are the tree that suddenly awoke, You are the rose that came to life, and spoke, Guided by you, how we might stroll towards death. Our only music, one another's breath, through gardens intimate with hollyhocks, Where silent poppies burn between the rocks, By pools, where birches bend to confidants, above green waters, scummed with lily plants. There we might wonder, you and I alone, Through gardens filled with marble seats moss grown, And fountains, water threads, that winds, disperse, While in the spray the birds sit and converse. And when the fireflies mix their circling glow through the dark plants, Then gently might I know your lips, Light as the wings of the dragon flies, Merely dreams, fluttering in my eyes. You thought I had forgotten. You thought I had forgotten? Well, I had, although I never guessed I could forget those few great moments when we both went mad. It was some trick, the way your eyebrows raise, Your hands, some vivid trifle. With a start, then I remembered how I lived alone, Writing bad poems, and eating out my heart all for your beauty. How the time has flown. Venice. In a sunset glowing of crimson and gold, she lies, The glory of the world, a beached king's galley, whose sails are furled, Who is hung with tapestries, rich and old. She is a goddess left for us, veiled with the softening veils of time, Her blue vein breasts are now sublime, her molded torso glorious. The pity that we must come and go. While the old gold and the marble stays, Forever gleaming its soft, strong blaze, Calm in the early evening glow. And still, the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track, Light on the tides as lilies, and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets. THE NEW MACABE. The pleasant graveyard of my soul, with sentimental cypress trees and flowers Is filled, that I may stroll in meditation at my ease. And while night rustles through the trees, dragging the stars along, I know the moon is rising on the breeze, Quivering as in a river's flow. And, ah, that moon of silver sheen! It is my heart hung in the sky, And no clouds ever float between the gray flowers and my heart on high. I do not read upon each stone the name that once was carven there. I merely note new blossoms blown And breathe the perfume of the air. Thus walk I through my wonderland, while all the evening is attuned, Beneath the cypress trees, that stand like candles to the barren moon, To war." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 5331.1, "words": 520, "errors": 32, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Does the eagle know what is in the pit to fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day down by the river of Adonna? Her soft voice is heard, and thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew o life of this our spring why fades the Lotus of the water? Why fade these children of the spring born but to smile and fall? Ah, fell is like a wat'ry bow, And like a parting cloud, like a reflection in a glass, Like shadows in the water, like dreams of infants, Like a smile upon an infant's face, Like the dove's voice, like transient day, Like music in the air. Ah, gentle may I lay me down in gentle rest, my head, And gentle sleep, the sleep of death, And gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time. The lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass, Answered the lovely maiden, said, I am a watry weed, and I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales, So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head, Yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all, Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads his hand, Saying, Rejoice, thou humble grass. Thou new born lily flower, thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks. For thou shalt be clothed in light, And fed with morning manna, till summer's heat Melts thee beside the fountains and the springs, To flourish in eternal vales. They, why should thou complain? Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh? She ceased, and smiled in tears. Then sat down in her silver shrine. Fell answered, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, Thy wine doth purify the golden honey, Thy perfume, which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire breathing steed, But thou is like a faint cloud, kindled at the rising sun. I vanish from my pearly throne, And who shall find my place? Queen of the vales, the lily answered, ask the tender cloud, And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky, And why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. Descend O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of fell. O little cloud, the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me, Why thou complainest now, when in one hour thou fade away, Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah, fell is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head, and his bright form emerged, Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of fell. O virgin know'st thou not, our steeds drink of the golden springs, Where Louvre doth renew his horses. Look'st thou on my youth? And fearest thou because I vanish, and am seen no more? Nothing remains. O maid, I tell thee, when I pass away." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 5889.3, "words": 520, "errors": 32, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Does the eagle know what is in the pit to fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day down by the river of Adonna? Her soft voice is heard. And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew o life of this our spring. Why fades the Lotos of the water? Why fade these children of the spring born, but to smile and fall? Ah, fell is like a watery bow, and like a parting cloud, like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water, like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face. Like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air, ah, gentle, may I lay me down in gentle rest, my head and gentle sleep. The sleep of death and gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time, the lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass, answered the lovely maid, and said. I am a watery weed, and I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales, so weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head, yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all walks in the valley. And each morn over me, spreads his hand, saying, rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new, born lily flower, thou gentle maid of silent valleys, and of modest brooks. For thou shalt be clothed in light and fed with morning manna till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs to flourish in eternal vales. They, why should thou complain? Why should the mistress of the vales of har utter a sigh? She ceased and smiled in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine, fell, answered o thou little virgin of the peaceful valley. Thy wine doth purify the golden honey. Thy perfume, which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, revives the milked cow and tames the fire, breathing steed, but thou is like a faint cloud. Kindled at the rising sun, I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place queen of the vales. The lily answered, ask the tender cloud, and it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky. And why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air descend o little cloud and hover before the eyes of fell o little cloud, the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away. Then we shall seek thee, but not find ah fell is like to thee, I pass away yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head and his bright form emerged, hovering and glittering on the air before the face of fell. O virgin nosed thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs where Louvre doth renew his horses. Lookest thou on my youth and fearest thou because I vanish and am seen no more nothing remains o maid. I tell thee when I pass away." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 4401.3, "words": 522, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "All is said without a word, I sit beneath thy looks, as children do in the noon sun, With souls that tremble through their happy eyelids, From an unaverred, yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most, but the occasion, that we too should, for a moment, stand unministered by a mutual present. Ah, keep near and close. Thou dove like help. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed a wrong on thee, is the same, the same, perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers, or brake off from a game, to run an answer with the smile that came at play last moment, and went on with me, through my obedience. Shall I never miss home talk, and blessing, and the common kiss that comes to each in turn, nor count it strange, when I look up, to drop on a new range of walls and floors, another home than this? Nay, wilt thou fill that place, by me, which is filled by dead eyes too tender? To no change that's hardest? If to conquer love, has tried to conquer grief, Tries more, as all things prove, for grief, indeed, is love, and grief beside. Alas! I have grieved, so I am hard to love. Yet loved me, wilt thou? Open thy heart wide, and fold within. The wet wings of thy dove. Could it mean, to last, a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled, distrusting every light That seemed to gild the onward path, and fear to overlean, A finger even, and though I have grown serene and strong since then, I think that God has willed a still renewable fear, O love, O troth, lest these enclasped hands should never hold, This mutual kiss drop down between us both as an unowned thing. Once the lips being cold, and love, be false, if he, to keep one oath, must lose one joy, by his life's star foretold. Slow to world greetings, Quick with its, O list, when the angels speak, A ring of amethyst, I could not wear here, Plainer to my sight, than that first kiss. The second passed in height, the first, And sought the forehead, and half missed, half falling on the hare, Oh, beyond mead. That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, With sanctifying sweetness, did proceed, The third upon my lips, was folded down in perfect, purple state. Since when, indeed, I have been proud, and said, My love, my own, dearest, teach me so to pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good. They love through all this world of ours, Mussulmans and Gyors, throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth for any weeping. Polypheme's white tooth slips on the nut, if, after frequent showers, The shell is over smooth, and not so much, Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate, or else to oblivion. But thou art not such a lover, my beloved." }, { "engine": "apple", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 5954.4, "words": 522, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "All is said without a word, I sit beneath thy looks, as children do in the noon sun, With souls that tremble through their happy eyelids, From an unaverred, yet prodigal inward joy. Behold. I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most, but the occasion that we two should, for a moment, stand unministered by a mutual present. Ah, keep near and close. Thou dove like help. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed a wrong on thee, is the same, the same, perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers, or brake off from a game, to run an answer with the smile that came at play last moment. And went on with me through my obedience, shall I never miss home talk and blessing, and the common kiss that comes to each in turn, nor count it strange when I look up to drop on a new range of walls and floors, another home than this. Nay, wilt thou fill that place, by me, which is filled by dead eyes too tender, to no change that's hardest? If to conquer love, has tried to conquer grief, tries more. As all things prove, for grief indeed is love, and grief beside, alas, I have grieved, so I am hard to love. Yet love me, wilt thou? Open thy heart wide, and fold within the wet wings of thy dove. Could it mean to last, a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow, nay, I rather thrilled. Distrusting every light that seemed to gild the onward path and fear to overlean, a finger, even, and though I have grown serene and strong since then, I think that god has willed a still renewable fear, o love, o troth. Lest these enclasped hands should never hold this mutual kiss drop down between us both as an unowned thing once the lips being cold and love be false. If he, to keep one oath, must lose one joy by his life's star foretold, slow to world, greetings, quick with its o list when the angels speak. A ring of amethyst, I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, than that first kiss. The second passed in height, the first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, half falling on the hair. Oh, beyond mead. That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown with sanctifying sweetness, did precede the third upon my lips, was folded down, imperfect purple state. Since when, indeed, I have been proud, and said, my love, my own, dearest, teach me so to pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good, they love through all this world of ours, Mussulmans. And gyors throw kerchiefs at a smile and have no ruth for any weeping polypheme's white tooth slips on the nut. If, after frequent showers, the shell is over smooth, and not so much, will turn the thing called love. Aside to hate, or else to oblivion, but thou art not such a lover, my beloved." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 10182.6, "words": 553, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips and carrots and bruised potatoes and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick, peppered, flour-fattened sauce. Stuff it into you, his belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy, secret night. After early nightfall the yellow lamps would light up here and there the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling always nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sin loving soul from their soft, perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them. His eyes, a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention or a gaudy playbill. His ears the drawling jargon of greeting. Hello, Bertie, any good in your mind? Number ten, Fresh Nelly is waiting on you. Good night, husband, coming in to have a short time. The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing Closing, the eyes opening and closing were stars being borne and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its centre, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble and a cloud of fine star dust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the balefire of its burning stars, and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched, and the cold darkness filled chaos. A cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul. At his first violent sin he had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardour extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally, not once but many times, and he knew that, while he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin he multiplied his guilt and his punishment. His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 11601.0, "words": 553, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips and carrots and bruised potatoes and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick, peppered, flour-fattened sauce. Stuff it into you, his belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy, secret night. After early nightfall the yellow lamps would light up here and there the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling always nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sin loving soul from their soft, perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them. His eyes a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention or a gaudy playbill, his ears the drawling jargon of greeting. Hello, Bertie, any good in your mind? Number ten Fresh Nelly is waiting on you. Good night, husband, coming in to have a short time. The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing, the eyes opening and closing were stars being borne and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its centre, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer, and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble, and a cloud of fine star dust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tale. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the bale fire of its burning stars, and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched. And the cold darkness filled chaos. A cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul. At his first violent sin he had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardour extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally, not once but many times, and he knew that While he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin he multiplied his guilt and his punishment. His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 11284.0, "words": 637, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "He could wait no longer. A full hour had passed since his father had gone in with Dan Crosby, the tutor, to find out for him something about the university. For a full hour he had paced up and down, waiting, but he could wait no longer. He set off abruptly for the bull, walking rapidly lest his father's shrill whistle might call him back, and in a few moments he had rounded the curve at the police barrack and was safe. Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea, as he had read from her listless silence. Yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride, and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul aged aging and strengthening in her eyes. A dim antagonism gathered force within him and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty, and when it passed cloudlike, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. The university. So he had passed beyond the challenge of the sentries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood and had sought to keep him among them that he might be subject to them and serve their ends. Pride after satisfaction uplifted him like long, slow waves. The end he had been born to serve, yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path, and now it beckoned to him once more, and a new adventure was about to be opened to him. It seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music leaping upwards a tone and downwards a diminished forth, upwards a tone and downwards a major third, like triple branching flames leaping fitfully, flame after flame, out of a midnight wood. It was an elfin prelude, endless and formless, and as it grew wilder and faster, the flames leaping out of time, he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses wild creatures racing, their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves, their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of hearts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more, and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman, whose feet are as the feet of hearts and underneath the everlasting arms. The pride of that dim image brought back to his mind the dignity of the office he had refused. All All through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny, and when the moment had come for him to obey the call, he had turned aside, obeying a wayward instinct. Now time lay between. The oils of ordination would never anoint his body. He had refused. Why? He turned seaward from the road at Dolly Mount, and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge he felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet. A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull and had begun to pass towards two by two across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. The uncouth faces passed him two by two, stained yellow or red or livid by the sea, and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference, a faint stain of personal shame and commiseration rose to his own face. Angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow being slow swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top heavy silk hats, and humble tape like collars and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother Hickey, brother MacArdle, brother Keoph," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 12308.1, "words": 637, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He could wait no longer. A full hour had passed since his father had gone in with Dan Crosby, the tutor, to find out for him something about the university. For a full hour he had paced up and down, waiting, but he could wait no longer. He set off abruptly for the bull, walking rapidly lest his father's shrill whistle might call him back, and in a few moments he had rounded the curve at the police barrack and was safe. Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea, as he had read from her listless silence. Yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride, and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul, aging and strengthening in her eyes. A dim antagonism gathered force within him, and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty. and when it passed cloud like, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. The university so he had passed beyond the challenge of the centuries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood, and had sought to keep him among them that he might be subject to them and serve their ends. Pride after satisfaction uplifted him like long, slow waves. The end he had been born to serve, yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path. And now it beckoned to him once more, and a new adventure was about to be opened to him. It seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music leaping upwards at tone and downwards a diminished fourth, upwards a tone and downwards a major third, like triple branching flames leaping fitfully. flame after flame out of a midnight wood. It was an elfin prelude, endless and formless, and as it grew wilder and faster, the flames leaping out of time, he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses wild creatures racing, their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves, their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of hearts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more, and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman. whose feet are as the feet of hearts, and underneath the everlasting arms. The pride of that dim image brought back to his mind the dignity of the office he had refused, All through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny, and when the moment had come for him to obey the call, he had turned aside, obeying a wayward instinct. Now time lay between. The oils of ordination would never anoint his body. He had refused. Why? He turned seaward from the road at Dolly Mount, and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge he felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet. A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull and had begun to pass two by two across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. The uncouth faces passed him two by two, stained yellow or red or livid by the sea, and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference, a faint stain of personal shame and commiseration rose to his own face. Angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow, swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top heavy silk hats, and humble tape-like collars, and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother Hickey, Brother McCardell, Brother Keoph," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 8175.0, "words": 639, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Thus, you know, in your study of sculpture, we saw that the essential aim of the Greek art was tranquil action. The chief aim of Gothic art was passionate rest, a peace, an eternity of intense sentiment. You will find me continually speaking of four men Titian, Holbein, Turner, and Tinteret, in almost the same terms. They unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colourists, sometimes as chiaroscurists. By being studious of color they are studious of division, and while the curoscurist devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing, unseparated light, the colorists have for their function the attainment of beauty by arrangement of the divisions of light. My first and principal reason was that they enforced beyond all resistance on any student who might attempt to copy them this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side. Some of the touches, indeed, when the tint has been mixed with much water, have been laid in little drops or ponds, so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge. And it follows also from this law of construction that there must never be any hesitation or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit. It is the head of a parrot with a little flower in his beak from a picture of Carpaccios, one of his series of the life of Saint George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath is left for the most part, one touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark grey define the outer curve, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. There are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass. Yet it is ten to one that in any modern gallery such a picture would be hung thirty feet from the ground. For, believe me, the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock robin is to be red, and of a grass plot to be green, and the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light, which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch. Now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly and harmonized with the other hues, it becomes somehow more precious and pearly than the white paper, and that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all round it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell as jewels if they are graded justly. Again there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however deep of these two studies, so that if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance. But in this vignette, copied from Turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. They are beyond all other works that I know existing, dependent for their effect on low, subdued tones, their favorite choice in time of day being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of grey paper. It may be that a great colorist will use his utmost force of colour, as a singer his full power of voice. But, loud or low, the virtue is in both cases always in refinement, never in loudness. It must, remember, be one or the other other. But there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one, if it be right and profitable, though incomplete. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 11252.9, "words": 639, "errors": 15, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Thus, you know, in your study of sculpture, we saw that the essential aim of the Greek art was tranquil action. The chief aim of Gothic art was passionate rest, a peace, an eternity of intense sentiment. You will find me continually speaking of four men Titian, Holbein, Turner, and Tincaret in almost the same terms. They unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colourists, sometimes as chiaroscurists, By being studious of color they are studious of division, and while the cure oscurist devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing, unseparated light, the colorists have for their function the attainment of beauty by arrangement of the divisions of light. My first and principal reason was that they enforced, beyond all resistance, on any student who might attempt to copy them, this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side. Some of the touches, indeed, when the tint has been mixed with much water, have been laid in little drops or ponds, so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge. And it follows also from this law of construction that there must never be any hesitation or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit. It is the head of a parrot with a little flower in his beak from a picture of Carpaccios. One of his series of the life of Saint George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath is left for the most part. One touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark grey define the outer curve, and the, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. There are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass. Yet it is ten to one that in any modern gallery such a picture would be hung thirty feet from the ground. For, believe me, the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock robin is to be red, and of a grass plot to be green. And the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light, which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch. Now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly and harmonized with the other hues, it becomes somehow more precious and pearly. than the white paper, and that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all round it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell as jewels if they are graded justly. Again there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however deep of these two studies, so that if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance. But in this vignette copied from Turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. They are beyond all other works that I know existing, dependent for their effect on low, subdued tones. Their favourite choice in time of day being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of grey paper. It may be that a great colorist will use his utmost force of colour as a singer his full power of voice. But loud or low, the virtue is in both cases always in refinement, never in loudness. It must, remember, be one or the other. But there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one. if it be right and profitable, though incomplete. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 8846.9, "words": 389, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Hairdresser a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his headwork with his hands. Hammer. A small, busy implement, carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship. Also a popular contrivance whereby love making may be suspended, but not stopped during the picnic season. Hand, a much desired possession, supplied by the damsel or or the dealer glad hand the beggar's plea the politician's sceptre and the drummer's ablest assistant Handmaiden a manicure Harangue The tiresome product of a tireless tongue, anger, pain, painful to hear, hence full of strains. Hash. Hatch. To develop eggs. Hatchway. Place for developing eggs. A hen coop. Hay fever a heart trouble caused by falling in love with a grass widow. Hearsay heard on the dead Hearse a handsome vehicle in which the man who has always been a tail ender is finally permitted to lead the procession. Heart a bloody organ, kept in a trunk, played by beats, and and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. Heave to raise. Heaven a good place to be raised to hedge a fence hedge hog one who hogs the fences a bill poster Hell Poverty Heredity the cause of all our faults, once held by Hobson and Dewey, now carried by Mother Eddie and brother Dowie. Hip a popular location for the retail liquor liquor business history the evil that men do hit a chance for first place, first base or first blood. In Germany they generally huck the Kaiser the Scottish national hymn hoop to skip Hope a desire for better things to come that makes a grass widow willing to try it again. Hornet still sharper. Horse sense. A degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races. Hose Man's excuse for wetting the walk Hosiery a woman's excuse for walking in the wet Hotel a place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters. House cleaning a domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs. Hug, a roundabout way of expressing affection. Humor. An outbreak, either of skin or brains, frequently branded as rash. Hunger. Ability to eat in a night lunch cart. Husband. The next thing to a wife, hussy woman and bond tie tied to a woman" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 11137.5, "words": 389, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Hairdresser a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his headwork with his hands. Hammer. a small, busy implement, carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship. Also a popular contrivance whereby lovemaking may be suspended, but not stopped during the picnic season Hand a much desired possession, supplied by the damsel or the dealer. Glad hand, the beggar's plea, the politician's sceptre, and the drummer's ablest assistant handmaiden a manicure Harang The tiresome product of a tireless tongue anger pain painful to hear, hence full of strains Hash hatch to develop eggs Hatchway Place for developing eggs a hen coop Hay fever a heart trouble caused by falling in love with a grass widow. Hearsay heard on the dead. Hearse a handsome vehicle in which the man who has always been a tailender is finally permitted to lead the procession. heart, a bloody organ, kept in a trunk, played by beats, and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. heave to raise heaven a good place to be raised to hedge a fence Hedgehog One who hogs the fences a bill poster Hell Poverty heredity the cause of all our faults, once held by Hobson and Dewey, now carried by Mother Eddie and brother Dowy. HIP a popular location for the retail liquor business. History the evil that men do. hit a chance for first place, first base, or first blood. In Germany they generally hawk the Kaiser. the Scottish national hymn Hop to skip Hope A desire for better things to come That makes a grass widow willing to try it again. Hornet still sharper. Horse sense a degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races. Hose Man's excuse for wetting the walk Hosiery a woman's excuse for walking in the wet. Hotel, a place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters. House cleaning a domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs Hug a roundabout way of expressing affection. Humour an outbreak, either of skin or brains, frequently branded as rash. Hunger ability to eat in a night lunch cart Husband The next thing to a wife hussy woman and bond tie tied to a woman" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 7723.2, "words": 410, "errors": 25, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am some time absent from thy heart, Thy beauty and thy years fall well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won. Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed. And when a woman woos, what woman's son will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear, And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth, Who lead thee in their riot even there, Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, thine by thy beauty being false to me. Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye. Thou dost love her, because thou knowest I love her, and for my sake even so doth she abuse me, suffering my friend, for my sake to approve her, then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, how would thy shadows form, form happy show to the To the clear day with thy much clearer light, when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so, all days are nights to see till I see thee, and night's bright days when dreams do show thee me. No matter then, although my foot did stand, Upon the farthest earth, removed from thee, For nimble thought can jump both sea and land, as soon as think the place where he would be. But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought to leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, but that so much of earth and water wrought, I must attend time's leisure with my moan, receiving nought by elements so slow, but heavy tears, badges of either's woe. My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, A closet never pierced with crystal eyes, But the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, most worthy comfort now my greatest grief, thou best of dearest and mine only care, art left the prey of every vulgar thief. Thee have I not locked up in any chest, save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, within the within the gentle closure of my breast, from whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part, and even thence thou wilt be stolen, I fear. For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 10548.5, "words": 410, "errors": 26, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am some time absent from thy heart, Thy beauty and thy years fall well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won, beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed. And when a woman woos, what woman's son will sourly leave her till he have prevailed Aye me but yet thou might'st my seat forbear, Enchide thy beauty and thy straying youth. who lead thee in their riot even there, where thou art forced to break a twofold truth, hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, thine by thy beauty being false to me. Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye. Thou dost love her, because thou knowest I love her, and for my sake even so doth she abuse me, suffering my friend, for my sake to approve her. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadows form, form happy show? To the clear day with thy much clearer light, when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so all days are nights to see till I see thee, and night's bright days when dreams do show thee me. No matter then, although my foot did stand, Upon the farthest earth, removed from thee, For nimble thought can jump both sea and land, as soon as think the place where he would be. But ah Thought kills me that I am not thought, to leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, but that so much of earth and water wrought I must attend time's leisure with my moan, receiving nought by elements so slow, but heavy tears, badges of either's woe. My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, A closet never pierced with crystal eyes, But the defendant doth that plea deny, and says in him thy fair appearance lies. But thou to whom my jewels trifles are, most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, thou best of dearest and mine only care, art left the prey of every vulgar thief. Thee have I not locked up in any chest, save where thou art not. though I feel thou art, within the gentle closure of my breast, From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part. and even thence thou wilt be stolen, I fear For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 9629.6, "words": 658, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition, in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion an appearance of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother, and waking her up in the terror of it, waking her not to dissipate his dread and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also herself, before she had succeeded in doing so, the same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas, not immediately but later in the evening, a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention. Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited in fact till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered, he brought out what was in his mind. I quite agree, in regard to Griffin's ghost, or whatever it was, that its appearing first to the little boy, at so tender an age, adds a particular touch, but it's not the first The first occurrence of its charming kind that I know to have involved a child, we say, of course, somebody exclaimed, that they give two turns. Also that we want to hear about them. I can see Douglas there before the fire, to which he had got up to present his back, looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets. Nobody but me till now has ever heard. It's quite too horrible. This naturally was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price, and our friend, with quiet art, prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us and going on. It's beyond everything. Nothing at all that I know touches it. For sheer terror, I remember asking. He seemed to say it was not so simple as that. To be really at a loss how to qualify it. He passed his hand over his eyes, made a little wincing grimace. For dreadful dreadfulness. Oh, how delicious cried one of the women. He took no notice of her. He looked at me, but as if instead of me, he saw what he spoke of, for general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain. Well then, I said, just sit right down and begin. He turned round to the fire, gave a kick to a log, watched it an instant, then as he faced us again, I can't begin. I shall have to send to town. There was a unanimous groan at this, and much reproach, after which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, The story's written. I could write to my man and enclose the key. He could send down the packet as he finds it. It was to me in particular that he appeared to propound this, appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate. He had broken a thickness of ice, the formation of many a winter, had had had his reasons for a long silence. The others resented postponement, but it was just his scruples that charmed me. To this his answer was prompt Oh, thank God no. And is the record yours? You took the thing down? Nothing but the impression. I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript? is in old faded ink, and in the most beautiful hand. He hung fire again a woman's. She has been dead these twenty years. She sent me the pages in question before she died. They were all listening now, and of course there was somebody to be arch, or, at any rate, to draw the inference. But if he put the inference by without a smile, it was also without irritation. She was a most charming person, but she was ten years older than I. She was my sister's governess, he quietly said." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 10591.3, "words": 658, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition, in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion, an appearance, of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother. and waking her up in the terror of it, waking her not to dissipate his dread and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also herself, before she had succeeded in doing so, with the same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas, not immediately but later in the evening, a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention. Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited, in fact, till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered, we had He brought out what was in his mind. I quite agree, in regard to Griffin's ghost or whatever it was, that its appearing first to the little boy, at so tender an age, adds a particular touch, but it's not the first occurrence of its charming kind that I know to have involved a child We say, of course, somebody exclaimed, that they give two turns. Also that we want to hear about them. I can see Douglas there before the fire. to which he had got up to present his back, looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets. Nobody but me till now has ever heard. It's quite too horrible. This naturally was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price, and our friend, with quiet art, prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us and going on It's beyond everything. Nothing at all that I know touches it. For sheer terror, I remember asking. He seemed to say it was not so simple as that. To be really at a loss how to qualify it. He passed his hand over his eyes, and made a little wincing grimace. For dreadful dreadfulness. Oh, how delicious cried one of the women. He took no notice of her. He looked at me, but as if Instead of me he saw what he spoke of, for general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain. Well, then, I said, just sit right down and begin. He turned round to the fire. gave a kick to a log, watched it an instant, then as he faced us again, I can't begin. I shall have to send to town. There was a unanimous groan at this, and much reproach. after which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, The story's written. I could write to my man and enclose the key. He could send down the packet as he finds it. It was to me in particular that he appeared to propound this, appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate. He had broken a thickness of ice The formation of many a winter had had his reasons for a long silence, the others resented postponement, but it was just his scruples that charmed me. To this his answer was prompt. Oh, thank God, no. And is the record yours? You took the thing down? Nothing but the impression. I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript? is in old faded ink. and in the most beautiful hand. He hung fire again a woman's. She has been dead these twenty years. She sent me the pages in question before she died. They were all listening now, and of course there was somebody to be arch, or, at any rate, to draw the inference. But if he put the inference by without a smile, it was also without irritation. She was a most charming person, but she was ten years older than I. She was my sister's governess, he quietly said." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 8833.3, "words": 633, "errors": 9, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "We have as yet hardly spoken of the infant, that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of Providence a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion. How strange it seemed to the sad woman, as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child. Her pearl, for so had Tester called her, not as a name expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white, unimpassioned lustre that would be indicated by the comparison. But she named the infant Pearl, as being of great price, purchased with all she had, her mother's only treasure. How strange, indeed, man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful like herself. God, as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished, had given her a lovely child, whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent forever with the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven. Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension. She knew that her deed had been evil. She could have no faith, therefore, that its result would be good. Day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature, ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being. Certainly there was no physical defect, by its perfect shape, its vigor, and its natural dexterity in the use of all its untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden, worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out. The child had a native grace which does not invariably coexist with faultless beauty. Its attire, however simple, always impressed the beholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best, but little Pearl was not clad in rustic weeds. Her mother, with a morbid purpose, that may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured, and allowed her imaginative faculty its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses which the child wore before the public eye. So magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed, and such was the splendour of Pearl's own proper beauty, shining through the gorgeous robes which might have extinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cottage floor, and yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect. Pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety. In this one child there were many children, comprehending the full scope between the wildflower prettiness of a peasant baby and the pomp, in little, of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue which she never lost, and if in any of her changes she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself. It would have been no longer Pearl. This outward mutability indicated and did not more than fairly express the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well as variety, but, or else Hester's fears deceived her, it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 10786.4, "words": 633, "errors": 10, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We have as yet hardly spoken of the infant, that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of Providence a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion. How strange it seemed to the sad woman as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child. her pearl, for so had Tester called her, not as a name expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white, unimpassioned lustre that would be indicated by the comparison. But she named the infant Pearl, as being of great price, purchased with all she had, her mother's only treasure. How strange, indeed, man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful like herself. God, as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished, had given her a lovely child, whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent forever with the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven. Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension. She knew that her deed had been evil. She could have no faith, therefore, that its result would be good. Day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature, and Ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being. Certainly there was no physical defect, by its perfect shape, its vigor, and its natural dexterity in the use of all its untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden. worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out. The child had a native grace which does not invariably coexist with faultless beauty. Its attire, however simple, always impressed the beholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best. But little Pearl was not clad in rustic weeds. Her mother, with a morbid purpose, that may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured, and allowed her imaginative faculty its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses which the child wore before the public eye. So magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed, and such was the splendour of Pearl's own proper beauty, shining through the gorgeous robes which might have extinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cottage floor. And yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect. Pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety. In this one child there were many children, comprehending the full scope between the wildflower prettiness of a peasant baby and the pomp, in little, of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue which she never lost, and if in any of her changes she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself, it would have been no longer Pearl. This outward mutability indicated and did not more than fairly express the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well as variety. But, or else Hester's fears deceived her, it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 11434.6, "words": 604, "errors": 1, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Hester Prynne went one day to the mansion of Governor Bellingham with a pair of gloves which she had fringed and embroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state, for, though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank, he still held an honorable and influential place among the colonial magistracy. Another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled Hester at this time to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement. It had reached her ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government, to deprive her of her child. On the supposition that Pearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin, these good people not unreasonably argued that a Christian interest in the mother's soul required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path. Among those who promoted the design, Governor Bellingham was said to be one of the most busy. It may appear singular and, indeed, not a little ludicrous, that an affair of this kind, which in later days would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the select men of the town, should then have been a question publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminence took sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however, matters of even slighter public interest, and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of Hester and her child were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state. The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. Little Pearl, of course, was her companion. Often, nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity, she demanded to be taken up in arms, but was soon as imperious to be let down again and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of Pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty, a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints, a bright complexion, eyes possessing intensity both of depth and glow, and hair already of a deep, glossy brown, and which in after years would be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her and throughout her. She seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in contriving the child's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination their full play, arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread. But it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and indeed of the child's whole appearance, that it irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which Hester Prynne was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It was the scarlet letter in another form, the scarlet letter endowed with life. The mother herself, as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form, had carefully wrought out the similitude, lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 11995.1, "words": 604, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Hester Prynne went one day to the mansion of Governor Bellingham with a pair of gloves which she had fringed and embroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state. for, though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank, he still held an honorable and influential place among the colonial magistracy. Another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled Hester at this time to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement. It had reached her ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants. cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government, to deprive her of her child. On the supposition that Pearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin, these good people not unreasonably argued that a Christian interest in the mother's soul, the first required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path. Among those who promoted the design, Governor Bellingham was said to be one of the most busy. It may appear singular and, indeed, not a little ludicrous, that an affair of this kind, which in later days would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the select men of the town, should then have been a question publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminence took sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however, matters of even slighter public interest, and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of Hester and her child were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state. The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. Little Pearl, of course, was her companion. Often, nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity, she demanded to be taken up in arms, but was soon as imperious to be let down again, and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway, with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of Pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty, a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints, a bright complexion, eyes possessing intensity both of depth and glow, and hair already of a deep glossy brown, and which, in after years, would be nearly akin to black. There was fire in her and throughout her. She seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in contriving the child's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination their full play, arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread. But it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and indeed of the child's whole appearance, that it irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which Hester Prynne was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It was the scarlet letter in another form, the scarlet letter endowed with life. The mother herself, as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form, had carefully wrought out the similitude lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 8840.8, "words": 708, "errors": 27, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Just at dawn next morning, Unk Nunky laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him. Come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown and a flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the Munchkin country of the Land of Oz, so Unkenunky's dress was much like that of his nephew. Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops, and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid. The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread, and and supposed the old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh cool water from the brook. Unk put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said, as he walked out through the doorway, Come. Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods and wanted to travel and see and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful land of Oz in which they lived. When they were outside, Ung simply latched the door and started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone came so far into the thick forest while they were gone. At the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the Munchkins from the country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left, and the other to the right, straight up the mountain. Unknunky took this right hand path, and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician, whom he had never seen, but who was there nearest neighbour. All the morning they trudged up the mountain path, and at noon Unk and Ojo sat on a fallen tree trunk and ate the last of the bread which the old munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again, and two hours later came in sight of the house of doctor Pippt. There was a pretty garden around the house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower beds, and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest which completely surrounded it. Unk knocked at the door of the house and a chubby, pleasant faced woman dressed all in blue, opened it and greeted the visitors with a smile. I am, my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home. He's very busy just now, she said, shaking her head doubtfully. But come in and let me give you something to eat, for you must have travelled far travelled far in order to get to our lonely place. We have, replied Ojo, as he and Unk entered the house. We have come from a far lonelier place than this. A lonelier place? And in the Munchkin country? she exclaimed, then it must be somewhere in the Blue Forest. It is Good Day Margolot. Dear me, she said, looking at the man, you must be Anknunky, known as the silent one. Then she looked at the boy. And you must be Ojo the unlucky, she added. Yes, said Unk. I never knew I was called the unlucky, said Ojo soberly, but it is really a good name for me. I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind, and perhaps the chance will come to you, she replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 11258.5, "words": 708, "errors": 23, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Just at dawn next morning Unknunky laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him. Come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown at a flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the Munchkin country of the Land of Oz, so Unkenunky's dress was much like that of his nephew. Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops, and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid. The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread, and supposed the old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh cool water from the brook. Unk put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said, as he walked out through the doorway, Come. Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods and wanted to travel and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful land of Oz in which they lived. When they were outside, Ung simply latched the door and started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone came so far into the thick forest while they were gone. At the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the Munchkins from the country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left, and the other to the right, straight up the mountain. Unknunky took this right hand path, and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician, whom he had never seen, but who was their nearest neighbour. All the morning they trudged up the mountain path, and at noon Unk and Ojo sat on a fallen tree trunk and ate the last of the bread which the old munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again, and two hours later came in sight of the house of Dr. Pippt. There was a pretty garden around the house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower beds, and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest which completely surrounded it. Unk knocked at the door of the house, and a chubby, pleasant faced woman, dressed all in blue, opened it, and greeted the visitors with a smile. I am, my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home. He's very busy just now, she said, shaking her head doubtfully. But come in and let me give you something to eat, for you must have travelled far in order to get to our lonely place. We have, replied Ojo, as he and Unk entered the house. We have come from a far lonelier place than this. A lonelier place and in the Munchkin country? she exclaimed, then it must be somewhere in the Blue Forest. It is Good Day Margolot. Dear me, she said, looking at the man, you must be Anknunky, known as the Silent One. Then she looked at the boy. And you must be Ojo the unlucky, she added. Yes, said Unk. I never knew I was called the unlucky, said Ojo soberly. But it is really a good name for me. I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind, and perhaps the chance will come to you, she replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 8809.6, "words": 699, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder. The patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolot had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt, and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets in it, using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed, and stuffed and stitched at the edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve as fingernails. She will have to work when she comes to life, said Margolot. The head of the patchwork girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life, the woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids, her eyes were two silver suspender buttons cut from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolot had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly, but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal metal. Gold is the most common metal in the land of Oz, and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. The woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue. This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, and Margolot was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful, for one cheek was yellow and the other red, her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the centre, where her nose had been formed and padded, a bright yellow. You ought to have had her face all pink, suggested the boy. I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth, replied the woman. Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful, rather than ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patched face, I can whitewash it. Has she any brains? asked Ojo. No, I forgot all about the brains, exclaimed the woman. I am glad you reminded me of them, for it is not too late to supply them by any means. Until she is brought to life I can do anything I please with this girl. But I must be careful not to give her too much brains, and those she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good. Wrong, said Unknunky. No, I am sure I am right about that, returned the woman. Well, that may be true, agreed Margolot. But on the contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high in money, and feel above her work. I want her to know just enough, but not too much. With this she went to another cupboard which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly neatly labelled by the magician to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked brain furniture, and the bottles on this shelf were labelled as follows obedience, cleverness, judgment, courage, ingenuity, amiability, learning, truth, poesy, self reliance. Let me see, said Margolot, of those qualities she must have obedience, first of all. And she took down the bottle bearing that label, and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 11440.0, "words": 699, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder. The patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolot had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt, and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets in it, using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed, and stuffed and stitched at the edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve as fingernails. She will have to work when she comes to life, said Margolot. The head of the patchwork girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life, The woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids, and Her eyes were two silver suspender buttons cut from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolot had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly, but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal. Gold is the most common metal in the land of Oz, and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. The woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue, This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, and Margolot was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful, for one cheek was yellow and the other red. her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the centre, where her nose had been formed and padded, a bright yellow. You ought to have had her face all pink, suggested the boy. I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth, replied the woman. Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful, rather than ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patched face, I can whitewash it. Has she any brains? asked Ojo. No, I forgot all about the brains, exclaimed the woman. I am glad you reminded me of them, for it is not too late to supply them by any means. Until she is brought to life I can do anything I please with this girl. but I must be careful not to give her too much brains, and those she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good. Wrong, said Unknunky. No, I am sure I am right about that, returned the woman. Well, that may be true, agreed Margolotte. But on the contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high and mighty, and feel above her work. I want her to know just enough, but not too much. With this she went to another cupboard which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly labelled by the magician, to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked brain furniture, and the bottles on this shelf were labelled as follows Obedience, cleverness, judgment, courage, ingenuity, amiability learning, truth, poesy, self reliance. Let me see, said Margolot, of those qualities she must have obedience, first of all. And she took down the bottle bearing that label, and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 8742.6, "words": 594, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the Orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty of the civil magistrate. The Edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration, had confirmed to each individual of the Roman world the privilege of choosing and professing his own religion. But this inestimable privilege was soon violated, with the knowledge of truth, the emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution, and the sects which descented from the Catholic Church were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily believed that the heretics who presumed to dispute his opinions, or to oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy, and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation. Not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the Orthodox clergy. Some of the penal regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felt the hand of oppression and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry. Before he condemned the Manichaeans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles. The advantage which Cicilian might claim from the priority of his ordination was destroyed by the illegal, or at least indecent, haste, with which it had been performed, without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia. From their mutual reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the African Christians. That divided church was incapable of affording an impartial adjudicature. The controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by the emperor, and the whole proceeding, from the first appeal to the final sentence, lasted lasted above three years. The honors and estates of the church were attributed to his suffragan bishops, and it was not without difficulty that Constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the Donatist faction. As their cause was examined with attention, perhaps it was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without foundation that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favorite Osius. They asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation, that the apostolical succession was interrupted, that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism, and that the prerogatives of the Catholic Church were confined to the chosen portion of the African believers, who alone had preserved inviolet the integrity of their faith and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct. Bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance before they could be admitted to the communion of the Donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their Catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 11105.1, "words": 594, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the Orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty of the civil magistrate. The Edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration, had confirmed to each individual of the Roman world the privilege of choosing and professing his own religion but this inestimable privilege was soon violated, with the knowledge of truth, the emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution, and the sects which descented from the Catholic Church were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily believed that the heretics, who presumed to dispute his opinions, or to oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy, and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation. Not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities. which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the Orthodox clergy. Some of the penal regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felt the hand of oppression, and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry. Before he condemned the Manichaeans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles. The advantage which Sicilian might claim from the priority of his ordination was destroyed by the illegal, or at least indecent, haste, with which it had been performed, without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia. From their mutual reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the African Christians. That divided church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature. The controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by the emperor, and the whole proceeding, from the first appeal to the final sentence, lasted above three years. The honors and estates of the church were attributed to his suffragan bishops, and it was not without difficulty that Constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the Donatist faction. As their cause was examined with attention, perhaps it was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without foundation that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favourite Osius. They asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation, that the apostolical succession was interrupted, that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism and that the prerogatives of the Catholic Church were confined to the chosen portion of the African believers, who alone had preserved inviolet the integrity of their faith and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct. Bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance before they could be admitted to the communion of the Donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their Catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 8695.8, "words": 668, "errors": 10, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the states than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours the travellers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star or following the direction of some water course, until the scout called a halt, and, holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Munroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest when the travellers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachkuk were frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences Hayward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent, silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the young chief and demand his opinion of their progress, but the calm and dignified demeanor of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north, he said, it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys and keep between the waters of the Hudson and the Horicon, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here are we, within a short range of the Scaroons, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed. Heaven protect us from such an error, exclaimed Duncan. Let us retrace our steps and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait? The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachguk had caught the look, and, motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a little acclivity a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. 'Tis the trail, exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot. The lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years. 'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long, muttered Duncan at his elbow." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 11072.9, "words": 668, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the states than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the Mohawk, and the Saint Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours the travellers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star or following the direction of some water course, until the scout called a halt, and, holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Munroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest when the travellers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the velocity and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachkuk were frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences Hayward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the young chief and demand his opinion of their progress, but the calm and dignified demeanour of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north, he said It did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys and keep between the waters of the Hudson and the Horricon, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here are we, within a short range of the Scaroons, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed. Heaven protect us from such an error exclaimed Duncan. Let us retrace our steps and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait? The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachguk had caught the look, and, motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth. that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. 'Tis the trail, exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot. The lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years. 'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long, muttered Duncan at his elbow." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 10981.2, "words": 712, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "But let me play the Lion too, Midsummer Night's Dream. Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye, he fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur. In his return to the camp, his acute and practised intellects were intently engaged in devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own. Nothing but the colour of his skin had saved the lives of Magua and the conjurer, who would have been the first victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a descent from men that knew no cross of blood. A neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed, most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites, such as wood or water. A faint light glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without a tenant. Thither then the scout proceeded like a prudent general who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack. Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the abiding place of David Gammet. Hither the faithful singing master had now brought himself, together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the protection of Providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in the manner just mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections. However implicit the faith of David was in the performance of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality. In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability of Balam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the subject of a bear's singing, and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his arm in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately so lately described, except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors. The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation. First, making the circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door into the very presence of Gamet. The position of the latter brought the fire between them, and when Hawkeye had seated himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking. The suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for we will not say the philosophy, but for the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch pipe and arose with a confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism. The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well known voice replied, Five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth just now an hour of squalling. What art thou? demanded David, utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention and nearly gasping for breath. A man like yourself, and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as your own." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 11950.7, "words": 712, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "But let me play the Lion too, Midsummer Night's Dream. Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye, he fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur. In his return to the camp, his acute and practised intellects were intently engaged in devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own. Nothing but the colour of his skin had saved the lives of Magua and the conjurer, who would have been the first victims sacrificed to his own security, had not the scout believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the nature of an Indian, utterly utterly unworthy of one who boasted a descent from men that knew no cross of blood. A neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed, most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites, such as wood or water. A faint light glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without a tenant. Thither then the scout proceeded like a prudent general who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack. Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the abiding place of David Gamet. Hither the faithful singing master had now brought himself, together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the protection of Providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in the manner just mentioned, The woodsman himself, though in his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections. However implicit the faith of David was in the performance of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality. In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat sceptical on the subject of a bear's singing, and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his arm in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately described, except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors. The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation. First, making the circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door into the very presence of Gamet. The position of the latter brought the fire between them, And when Hawkeye had seated himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking. The suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for we will not say the philosophy, but for the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitchpipe and arose with a confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism. The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well known voice replied, Five words of plain and comprehendible English are worth just now an hour of squalling. What art thou? demanded David, utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention and nearly gasping for breath. A man like yourself, and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as your own." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 9498.4, "words": 777, "errors": 14, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavor in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place place or give a clue as to the people concerned. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss what to do. I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police. no, my dear sir, such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr Holmes, to do what you can. My friend's temper had not improved, since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrapbooks, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story. I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that tomorrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue scholarship. I am one of the examiners. For this reason great care is taken to keep the paper secret. Today, about three o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather more than an hour. As I approached my outer door, I was amazed to see a key in it. The only duplicate which existed so far as I knew was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences. The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it. Holmes stirred for the first time. The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it, said he. Exactly, Mr. Holmes, you amaze me. How could you possibly know that? Pray, continue your very interesting statement. For an instant, I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 11772.9, "words": 777, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place or give a clue as to the people concerned. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. I trust, Mr Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss what to do. I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police. No, no, my dear sir, such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, mister Holmes, to do what you can. My friend's temper had not improved, since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrapbooks, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story. I must explain to you, mister Holmes, that to morrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue scholarship. I am one of the examiners. For this reason great care is taken to keep the paper secret. Today, about three o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk, I was absent rather more than an hour. As I approached my outer door, I was amazed to see a key in it. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences. The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together, Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it. Holmes stirred for the first time. The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it. said he. Exactly, Mr Holmes, you amaze me. How could you possibly know that? Pray, continue your very interesting statement. For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 8919.3, "words": 738, "errors": 24, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "Your three birds are all in their nests, said Holmes, looking up. Hallo, what's that? One of them seems restless enough. It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. I should like to have a peep at each of them, said Holmes. Is it possible? No difficulty in the world, Soames answered. The set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you. No names, please, said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. A tall, flaxen haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the rooms of the Indian, a silent, little hook nosed fellow, who eyed us ascance and was obviously glad when Holmes's architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. I don't care who you are, you can go to blazes, roared the angry voice. A rude fellow, said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but nonetheless his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed, under the circumstances, rather suspicious. Can you tell me his exact height? he asked. Really, Mr Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about it. That is very important, said Holmes. And now, Mr. Solmes, I wish you good night. You don't seem to realize the position. Tomorrow is the examination. I must take some definite action tonight. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced. You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early tomorrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile you change nothing, nothing at all. Very good, Mr Holmes. You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me, also the pencil cuttings. Goodbye. When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room, the others were invisible. The foul mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart. He looked at us in a queer way. So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, two, and knives all was satisfactory. But that fellow does puzzle me. Who? Why Bannister, the servant? What's his game in the matter? He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man. Why should a perfectly honest man well, well, here's a large stationer's, we shall begin our researches here. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half humorous resignation. No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall, not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three enterprising students. Holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 12802.1, "words": 738, "errors": 18, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Your three birds are all in their nests, said Holmes, looking up. Hallo, what's that? One of them seems restless enough. It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. I should like to have a peep at each of them, said Holmes. Is it possible? No difficulty in the world, Soames answered. The set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you. No names, please, said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. A tall, flaxen haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within, Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian, a silent, little hook nosed fellow who eyed us askance and was obviously glad when Holmes' architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to or knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. I don't care who you are you can go to blazes roared the angry voice. A rude fellow, said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but nonetheless his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed, under the circumstances, rather suspicious. Can you tell me his exact height? he asked. Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about it. That is very important, said Holmes. And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you good night. You don't seem to realize the position. Tomorrow is the examination. I must take some definite action tonight. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced. You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to morrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile you change nothing nothing at all. Very good, mister Holmes. You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me, also the pencil cuttings. Good bye. When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible. The foul mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart. He looked at us in a queer way. So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, two, and knives all was satisfactory. But that But that fellow does puzzle me. Who? Why Bannister, the servant? What's his game in the matter? He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man. Why should a perfectly honest man well, well, here's a large stationer's, we shall begin our researches here. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half humorous resignation. No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall. Not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three enterprising students. Holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 9290.6, "words": 645, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching negroes. Not that she objected to negroes as human beings, quite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies, her defense of the Fifteenth Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning, but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith's experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed. Her dream had been a postgraduate course at Brynmarr, but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a western college. The South she had not thought of seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton belt. Better go, he had counseled sententiously. Might learn something useful down there. She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook, and had protested against his blunt insistence. But John, there's no society just elementary work. John had met this objection with hm as he left for his office. Next day he had returned to the subject. Been looking up Toomes County. Find some Cresswells there. Big plantations, rated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, some other Some others too. Big Cotton County. You ought to know, John. If I teach negroes I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. Nonsense. Butt in, show off. Give em your Greek and study cotton. At any rate, I say go. And so, howsoever reluctantly, she had gone. The trial was all she had anticipated, and possibly a bit more. She was a pretty young woman of twenty three, fair and rather daintily moulded. Here she was teaching dirty children and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was to her at times unbearable. Then there was the fact of their colour. It was a fact so insistent, so fatal, she almost said at times she could not escape it. Theoretically she had always treated it with disdainful ease. What's the mere color of a human soul's skin? she had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here, in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark skinned children, their color struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself lest they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in colour. She groped for new ways to teach coloured brains and marshal colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student. With the other teachers she had little commerce. She appealed to Miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly as some memory of the past. The other teachers were indistinct personalities, always very busy and very tired, and talking schoolroom with their meals. Miss Taylor was soon starving for human companionship, for the lighter touches of life, and some of its warmth and laughter, she wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals, and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in, and mentally anemic, great as the Negro problem might be as a world problem, it looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 12927.2, "words": 645, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching negroes. Not that she objected to negroes as human beings, quite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies, her defense of the Fifteenth Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith's experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed. Her dream had been a postgraduate course at Brynmarr, but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a western college. The South she had not thought of seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton belt. Better go, he had counseled sententiously. Might learn something useful down there She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook, and had protested against his blunt insistence. But John, there's no society just elementary work. John had met this objection with hm as he left for his office. Next day he had returned to the subject. Been looking up Toomes County. Find some crestwells there. Big plantations, rated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars some others too. Big Cotton County. You ought to know, John. If I teach negroes I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. Nonsense butt in, show off give em your Greek, and study cotton. At any rate, I say go. And so, howsoever reluctantly, she had gone. The trial was all she had anticipated, and possibly a bit more. She was a pretty young woman of twenty three, fair and rather daintily moulded. Here she was teaching dirty children, and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was to her at times unbearable Then there was the fact of their colour. It was a fact so insistent, so fatal, she almost said at times she could not escape it. Theoretically she had always treated it with disdainful ease. What's the mere colour of a human soul's skin? She had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here, in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark skinned children Their colour struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself lest they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in colour. She groped for new ways to teach colored brains and marshal colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student. With the other teachers she had little commerce. She appealed to Miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly as some memory of the past The other teachers were indistinct personalities, always very busy and very tired, and talking schoolroom with their meals. Miss Taylor was soon starving for human companionship, for the lighter touches of life, and some of its warmth and laughter. She wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals, and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in and mentally anemic. Great as the negro problem might be as a world problem, it looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 9668.7, "words": 674, "errors": 34, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The honourable Charles Smith, Miss Sarah's brother, was walking swiftly up town from mister Easterley's Wall Street office, and his face was pale. At last the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact, and he was slated for the Senate. The price he had paid was high. He was to represent the interests of the new trust and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the Combine's legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would affect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary, the last constituating a particularly clever artifice which, under the guise of convenience in handling, would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compress machinery, to be supplied, of course, by the trust. As mister Smith drew near Mrs. Gray's Murray Hill residence, his face had melted to a cynical smile. After all, why should he care? He had tried independence and philanthropy and failed. Why should he not be as other men? He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything. They were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Creswell. Did his aristocratic air prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions and promising the influence of his father and the whole Farmers League to the new project? Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscoting glowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. There was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without it made both the fire and the table with its soft linen, gold and silver plate, and twinkling glasses a warming, satisfying sight. Mrs. Grey was a portly woman, inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes, both of which were always rich and costly. She was not herself a notably intelligent woman, she greatly admired intelligence or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others. Her money too was to her an ever worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly and spend philanthropically, a difficult combination. As she awaited her guests she surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few. Tonight there were, she checked them off on her fingers, Sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer and Lady Crichton, Mr and Mrs. Vanderpoole, Mr Harry Creswell and his sister, John Taylor and his sister, and Mr Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United States Senator from New Jersey, a selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day. Mrs Gray's chef was high priced and efficient, and her butler was the envy of many, consequently she knew the dinner would be good. To her intense satisfaction it was far more than this It was a most agreeable couple of hours, all save perhaps Mr Smith, unbent, the Englishman especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious, but if the general pleasure was owing to any one person particularly, it was to Mr Harry Crestwell. Mrs. Gray had met southerners before, but not intimately, and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor negroes, a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was therefore most agreeably surprised to hear Mr Creswell express himself so cordially as approving of negro education. Really now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of of amalgamation, do you? he sang. mister Creswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station, filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, it meant terrible danger to southern white women. Do you believe in some education? asked Mary Taylor." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 12894.4, "words": 674, "errors": 31, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The honourable Charles Smith, Miss Sarah's brother, was walking swiftly up town from mister Easterley's Wall Street office, and his face was pale. At last the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact, and he was slated for the Senate. The price he had paid was high He was to represent the interests of the new trust, and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the Combine's legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would effect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary. the last constituating a particularly clever artifice which, under the guise of convenience and handling, would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compressed machinery, to be supplied, of course, by the trust. As mister Smith drew near Mrs. Gray's Murray Hill residence, his face had melted to a cynical smile. After all, why should he care? He had tried independence and philanthropy and failed. Why should he not be as other men? He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything. They were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Creswell. Did his aristocratic heir prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions and promising the influence of his father and the whole Farmers League to the new project mister Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscoting glowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. There was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without, that made both the fire and the table with its soft linen, gold and silver plate, and twinkling glasses a warming, satisfying sight. Mrs. Gray was a portly woman, inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes, both of which were always rich and costly. She was not herself a notably intelligent woman. She greatly admired intelligence or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others. Her money too was to her an ever worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly and spend philanthropically, a difficult combination. As she awaited her guests she surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few To night there were, she checked them off on her fingers, Sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer and Lady Crichton, Mr and Mrs. Vanderpool, Mr Harry Creswell and his sister, John Taylor and his sister, and mister Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United States Senator from New Jersey, a selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day. Mrs Grey's chef was high priced and efficient, and her butler was the envy of many. Consequently she knew the dinner would be good. To her intense satisfaction it was far more than this it was a most agreeable couple of hours. all save perhaps mister Smith, unbent, the Englishman especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious, but if the general pleasure was owing to any one person particularly, it was to mister Harry Cresswell. Mrs. Grey had met southerners before, but not intimately, and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor negroes, a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was therefore most agreeably surprised to hear Mr Creswell express himself so cordially as approving of negro education Really now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of of amalgamation, do you? he sang. Mr. Creswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station, filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, it meant terrible danger to southern white women. Do you believe in some education? asked Mary Taylor." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 8768.4, "words": 654, "errors": 16, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He knew the silver fleece, his and Zora's, must be ruined. It was the first great sorrow of his life. It was not so much the loss of the cotton itself but the fantasy, the hopes, the dreams built around it. If it failed, would not they fail? But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zorb made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days, he pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless, leaky cabin with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp. It was a fearful place in the rain, its oozing mud and fetid vapours, its clinging slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chill their hearts. Yet here his Zora, his poor disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she too knew, or knew and cared not, or cared and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her all things meant something. Nothing was aimless, nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him, or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden at midday the sun shot out, hot and still, no breath of air stirred, the sky was like blue steel, the earth steamed. Perhaps if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall, but Pshaw, where was the use of imagining? The lagoon had been level with the dikes a week ago, and now he could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled, drowned, and rolling beneath the black lake of slime. He must at least see the grave of his hope in Zoras, and out of it resurrect new love and strength. Perhaps she too might be there, waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The raindrops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees, flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing, and put foot upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island. A great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy. The squares of cotton sharp edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath, the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment he paused, stupid, agape, with utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against the tree. The swamp, the eternal swamp, had been drained in its deepest fastness. But how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton! What a marvelous field! But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly, stopping near Zora's oak. Here lay the reading of the riddle. With infinite work and pain someone had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek, into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight, a hundred yards through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora and with the thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled, motionless, grey pallid beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips a moaning. The earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on, the mud splashed and sunlight glistened, he saw long snakes slithering across his path, and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 11755.2, "words": 654, "errors": 14, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He knew the silver fleece, his and Zora's, must be ruined. It was the first great sorrow of his life. It was not so much the loss of the cotton itself but the fantasy, the hopes, the dreams built around it. If it failed, would not they fail? But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zorb made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days. He pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless, leaky cabin, with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp, it was a fearful place in the rain, its oozing mud and fetid vapours, its clinging slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chilled their hearts. Yet here his Zora, his poor disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she too knew, or knew and cared not, or cared and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her all things meant something, nothing was aimless, nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him, or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden at midday the sun shot out, hot and still, no breath of air stirred, the sky was like blue steel, the earth steamed. Perhaps if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall, but Pshaw. Where was the use of imagining? The lagoon had been level with the dykes a week ago, and now? He could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled, drowned, and rolling beneath the black lake of slime. He must at least see the grave of his hope in Zoras, and out of it resurrect new love and strength. Perhaps she too might be there, waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The raindrops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees, flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing, and put foot upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island. A great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy, and the The squares of cotton sharp edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment he paused, stupid, agape. with utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against a tree. The swamp, the eternal swamp, had been drained in its deepest fastness. But how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton. What a marvellous field. But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly, stopping near Zora's oak, Here lay the reading of the riddle. With infinite work and pain someone had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek, into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight, a hundred yards, through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora, and with the thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled, motionless, grey pallid beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips a moaning. The earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on. The mud splashed and sunlight glistened, he saw long snakes slithering across his path, and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 8724.8, "words": 589, "errors": 15, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It is a very fine old place, of red brick, softened by a pale, powdery lichen, which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity, so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three gables, the windows and the door place. But the windows are patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think, is like the gate. It is never opened. For it is a solid, heavy, handsome door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey, who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair. And now the half weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse built hovel against the left hand wall come out, and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless supposing that it has reference to buckets of milk. a large open fireplace with rusty dogs in it, and a bare boarded floor. At the far end fleeces of wool stacked up. In the middle of the floor some empty corn bags. That is the furniture of the dining room. And what through the left hand window? Several clothes horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, an and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags. At the edge of this box there lies a great wooden doll, which, so far as mutilation is concerned, bears a strong resemblance to the finest Greek sculpture, and especially in the total loss of its nose. Near it there's a little chair, and the butt end of a boy's leather long lashed whip. The history of the house is plain now. It was once the residence of a country squire, whose family, probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood, got merged in the more territorial name of Donythorne. But there is always a stronger sense of life when the sun is brilliant after rain, and now he is pouring down his beams and making sparkles among the wet straw, and lighting up every patch of vivid green moss on the red tiles of the cow shed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain into a mirror for the yellow billed ducks who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink, with as much body in it as possible. For the great barn doors are thrown wide open, and men are busy there mending the harness under the superintendence of Mr Goby, the widow, otherwise saddler, who entertains them with the latest Treadleston gossip. Hetty Searle often took the opportunity, when her aunt's back was turned, of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished services, for the oak table was usually turned up like a screen, and was more for ornament than for use, and she could see herself, sometimes, in the great round, pewter dishes that were arranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table, or in the hobs of the grate which always shone like jasper. Do not suppose, however, that misses Poiser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance. She was a good looking woman, not more than eight and thirty, of fair complexion and sandy hair, well shapen, light footed. The family likeness between her and her niece Dinah Morris, with a contrast between her keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression, might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for a Martha and Mary." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 11531.9, "words": 589, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It is a very fine old place, of red brick, softened by a pale, powdery lichen, which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity, so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three gables, the windows and the doorplace. But the windows are patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think, is like the gate. It is never opened. for it is a solid, heavy, handsome door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey, who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds, in a carriage and pair. And now the half weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse built hovel against the left hand wall come out, and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless supposed that it has reference to buckets of milk, a large open fireplace with rusty dogs in it, and a bare boarded floor. At the far end fleeces of wool stacked up. In the middle of the floor some empty corn bags. That is the furniture of the dining room. And what through the left hand window? Several clothes horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags. At the edge of this box there lies a great wooden doll. which, so far as mutilation is concerned, bears a strong resemblance to the finest Greek sculpture, and especially in the total loss of its nose. Near it there's a little chair, and the butt end of a boy's leather long lashed whip. The history of the house is plain now. It was once the residence of a country squire, whose family, probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood, got merged in the more territorial name of Donythorne. But there is always a stronger sense of life when the sun is brilliant after rain. And now he is pouring down his beams and making sparkles among the wet straw, and lighting up every patch of vivid green moss on the red tiles of the cow shed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain into a mirror. for the yellow billed ducks, who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink, with as much body in it, as possible. For the great barn doors are thrown wide open, and men are busy there mending the harness under the superintendence of mister Goby, the Whiddaw, otherwise saddler, who entertains them with the latest Treadleston gossip. Hetty Searle often took the opportunity, when her aunt's back was turned, of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished services. for the oak table was usually turned up like a screen, and was more for ornament than for use, and she could see herself, sometimes, in the great round pewter dishes that were arranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table, or in the hobs of the grate which always shone like jasper. Do not suppose, however, that misses Poiser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance. She was a good looking woman, not more than eight and thirty, of fair complexion and sandy hair Well shapen, light footed. The family likeness between her and her niece Dinah Morris, with a contrast between her keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression, might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for Amartha and Mary." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 9161.9, "words": 591, "errors": 30, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The Paris plant, like that at the Crystal Palace, was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent, supplying, before it was torn out, no fewer than three thousand lamps in hotels, churches, stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn Viaduct. There, Messieurs Johnson and Hammer put into practice many of the of the ideas now standard in the art, and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the first Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power. It went into service August 15, 1882, about three weeks before the Pearl Street station. The dynamo electric machine, though small, was robust, for under all the varying speeds of water power and the and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until 1899, seventeen years. But his attention was in reality concentrated closely on the supply of great setters of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime. And except in regard to furnishing isolated plants, he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations. That was left to others, and to the application of the alternating current which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers and within thoroughly economical limits limits, transmit thousands of horsepower as much as 200 miles at pressures of 80,000 and 100,000 volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers, Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench and putting in an insulated cable and connecting such station with the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying low pressure currents to the public, there is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp fundamental distinction between high pressure alternating current for transmission and low pressure direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison from the financial standpoint if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current, but that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of conviction, and Edison's convictions are granitic. Broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them, he is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods, to plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Everything he has done has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture. Burbank and his tribe represent in the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 11772.0, "words": 591, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "The Paris plant, like that at the Crystal Palace, was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent, supplying before it was torn out no fewer than three thousand lamps in hotels, churches, stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn Viaduct There, Messiers Johnson and Hammer put into practice many of the ideas now standard in the art, and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the first Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power It went into service august fifteenth, eighteen eighty two, about three weeks before the Pearl Street station. The Dynamo electric machine, though small, was robust for under all the varying speeds of water power and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until eighteen ninety nine, seventeen years. But his attention was in reality concentrated closely on the supply of great setters of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime. And except in regard to furnishing isolated plants, he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations. That was left to others, and to the application of the alternating current which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers and the other th within thoroughly economical limits, transmit thousands of horsepower as much as two hundred miles at pressures of eighty thousand and one hundred thousand volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers, Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench and putting in an insulated cable and connecting such station with the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying low pressure currents to the public, there is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp fundamental distinction between high pressure alternating current for transmission and low pressure direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison from the financial standpoint if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current But that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of conviction, and Edison's convictions are granitic. Broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them, he is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods. To plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Everything he has done has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture. Burbank and his tribe represent in the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 9752.7, "words": 694, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed, Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work, increased by her absence, loomed up before her, till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning. At night, when no one knew it, the tears would come racing over the poor, forlorn little face, and would not be squeezed back. It got to be noticed finally, and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever. The only place, except in front of the Grand Piano, where Polly approached a state of comparative happiness, was in the greenhouse. Here she would stay, comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics, rejoicing the heart of old Turner the gardener, who since Polly's first rapturous entrance had taken her into his good graces for all time. Every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied, was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers. But even with the music and flowers the dancing light in the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and spacious rooms with gay and springing step. Polly don't like us, at last said Van one day in despair. Then, dear, said Mrs. Whitney, you must be kinder to her than ever. Think what it would be for one of you to be away from home, even among friends. I'd like at first rate to be away from Percy, said Fan, reflectively. I wouldn't come back in three no, six weeks. My son, said his mamma, just stop and think how badly you would feel if you really couldn't see Percy. Well, said Van, and he showed signs of relenting a little at that, but Percy is perfectly awful, mamma, you don't know, and he feels so smart too, he said vindictively. Well, said Mrs. Whitney, softly, let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face. I don't know, said Van, running over in his mind all the possible ways he could think of for entertaining anybody, unless she'd like my new book of travels, or my velocipede, he added. I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose said his mamma, smiling, especially the last, yet we must think of something. But just here Mr King thought it about time to take manners into his hands, and the first one with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by, was had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest, this day it seemed as if she could bear it no longer. If she could only see Phronsie for just one moment. I shall have to give up, she moaned. I can't bear it. And over went her head on the music rack. Where is she? said a voice over in front of the piano in the gathering dusk, unmistakably mister King's. Oh, she's always at the piano, said Van. She must be there now, somewhere. And then somebody laughed. Then came in the loudest of whispers from little Dick. Oh, Jappy, what'll she say? Hus, said one of the other boys. Do be still, Dick. Polly sat up very straight, and whisked off the tears quickly. Here, Polly, hold your arms, he had only strength to gasp. At this the bundle opened suddenly, and out popped Phronsie. Here I am. I'm here, Polly. But Polly couldn't speak, and if Jasper hadn't caught her just in time, she would have tumbled over backward from the stool, Phronsie and all. Aren't you glad I've come, Polly? asked Phronsie, with her little face close to Polly's own. That brought Polly too." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 11542.6, "words": 694, "errors": 10, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed, Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work, increased by her absence, loomed up before her, till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning. At night, when no one knew it, the tears would come racing over the poor, forlorn little face, and would not be squeezed back. It got to be noticed finally, and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever. The only place, except in front of the Grand Piano, where Polly approached a state of comparative happiness, was in the greenhouse. Here she would stay, comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics Rejoicing the heart of old Turner the gardener, who since Polly's first rapturous entrance, had taken her into his good graces for all time. Every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied, was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers But even with the music and flowers, the dancing light in the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and spacious rooms with gay and springing step. Polly don't like us, at last said Van one day in despair. Then, dear, said Mrs. Whitney, you must be kinder to her than ever. Think what it would be for one of you to be away from home, even among friends. I'd like at first rate to be away from Percy, said Fan, reflectively. I wouldn't come back in three no, six weeks. My son, said his mamma, just stop and think how badly you would feel. If you really couldn't see Percy. Well, said Van, and he showed signs of relenting a little at that, but Percy is perfectly awful, Mama, you don't know, and he feels so smart, too, he said vindictively. Well, said Mrs. Whitney, softly, let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face. I don't know, said Van, running over in his mind all the possible ways he could think of for entertaining anybody, unless she'd like my new book of travels, or my velocipede, he added. I am afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose, said his mamma, smiling, especially the last, yet we must think of something. But just here Mr King thought it about time to take matters into his hands, so, with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by, he had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest, this day it seemed as if she could bear it no longer, if she could only see Phronsie for just one moment. I shall have to give up, she moaned. I can't bear it. And over went her head on the music rack Where is she? said a voice over in front of the piano in the gathering dusk, unmistakably Mr. King's. Oh, she's always at the piano, said Van. She must be there now, somewhere. And then somebody laughed. Then came in the loudest of whispers from little Dick. Oh, Jappy, what'll she say? Hush, said one of the other boys. Do be still, Dick. Polly sat up very straight, and whisked off the tears quickly. Here, Polly, hold your arms, he had only strength to gasp. At this the bundle opened suddenly, and out popped Phronsie Here I am I'm here, Polly. But Polly couldn't speak, and if Jasper hadn't caught her just in time, she would have tumbled over backward from the stool, Phronsie and all. Aren't you glad I've come, Polly? asked Phronsie, with her little face close to Polly's own. That brought Polly too." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 8442.1, "words": 602, "errors": 17, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Part two Neighbouring Fields It is sixteen years since John Bergson died. His wife now lies beside him, and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat fields Could he rise from beneath it, he would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie, which they lifted to make him a bed, has vanished forever. From the Norwegian graveyard one looks out over a vast checkerboard marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light. Telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. From the graveyard gate one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses, the gilded weather vanes on the big red barns wink at each other across the green and brown and yellow fields. The divide is now thickly populated. The rich soil yields heavy harvests, the dry, bracing climate and the smoothness of the land make labour easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring ploughing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length, and strength, and the brown earth, with such a strong, clean smell, and such a power of growth and fertility in it, yields itself eagerly to the plough, rolls away from the shear, not even dimming the brightness of the metal, with a soft, deep sigh of happiness. The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night, as well as all day, and in good seasons there are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back. Like the plains of Lombardy, it seems to rise a little to meet the sun. The air and the earth are curiously mated and intermingled as if the one were the breath of the other. You feel in the atmosphere the same tonic puissant quality that is in the tilth, the same strength and resoluteness. One June morning a young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe in strokes unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade, he slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling, but softly, out of respect to the quiet folk about him. Unconscious respect, probably, for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts, and, like the gladiators, they were far away. He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine tree, with a with a handsome head and stormy grey eyes deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the coronet in the university band. When the grass required his close attention, or when he had to stoop to cut about a headstone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again. He was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered, the old wild country, the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed while so many men broke their hearts and died, he can scarcely remember." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 12537.5, "words": 602, "errors": 15, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Part two Neighbouring Fields It is sixteen years since John Bergson died. His wife now lies beside him, and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat fieldss. Could he rise from beneath it, he would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie, which they lifted to make him a bed, has vanished forever. From the Norwegian graveyard one looks out over a vast checkerboard marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light. Telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. From the graveyard gate one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses. The gilded weather vanes on the big red barns wink at each other across the green and brown and yellow fields. The divide is now thickly populated. The rich soil yields heavy harvests, the dry, bracing climate, and the smoothness of the land make labour easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring ploughing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length, and the brown earth with such a strong, clean smell, and such a power of growth and fertility in it, yields itself eagerly to the plough, rolls away from the sheer, not even dimming the brightness of the metal, with a soft, deep sigh of happiness. The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night, as well as all day, and in good seasons there are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back, Like the plains of Lombardy, it seems to rise a little to meet the sun. The air and the earth are curiously mated and intermingled as if the one were the breath of the other. you feel in the atmosphere the same tonic, puissant quality that is in the tilth, the same strength and resoluteness. One June morning a young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe in strokes unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade, he slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling. but softly, out of respect to the quiet folk about him. Unconscious respect, probably, for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts, and, like the gladiators, they were far away. He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine tree, with a handsome head and stormy grey eyes deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the coronet in the university band. When the grass required his close attention, or when he had to stoop to cut about a headstone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again. He was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered, the old wild country, the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed while so many men broke their hearts and died, he can scarcely remember." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 9163.6, "words": 709, "errors": 15, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the goulds was getting a divorce, and Frank took it as a personal affront. In printing the story of the young man's marital troubles, the knowing editor gave a sufficiently coloured account of his career, stating the amount of his income and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it. Frank read English slowly, and the more he read about this divorce case, the angrier he grew. He turned to his farmhand, who was reading the other half of the paper. By God, listen here what he do with his money. And Frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. Marie sighed. She thought it hard that the Goulds, for whom she had nothing but good will, should make her so much trouble. She hated to see the Sunday newspapers come into the house. Frank was always reading about the doings of rich people and feeling outraged. He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies, how they bribed the courts and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose. Frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. After he was gone, Marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter making. A brisk wind had come up and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky. The orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun. Marie stood looking toward it wistfully, her hand on the lid of the churn, when she heard a sharp ring in the air, the merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe. That invitation decided her. She ran into the house, put on a short skirt and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow. His yellow canvas leggings and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees. Isn't everything beautiful after the rain? Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed. When I heard it raining in the night, I thought maybe you would come and do it for me today. The wind wakened me. Didn't it blow dreadfully? Just smell the wild roses. They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before. I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them too? What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty? Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season too, then. It's exciting to see everything growing so fast, and to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last, if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them, I mean that low place down by my tree, where there are so many. Aren't you splashed? Look at the spider webs all over the grass. Goodbye, I'll call you if I see a snake. In a few moments he heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail, and he began to swing his scythe with that long, even stroke that few American boys ever learn. Marie picked cherries and sang softly to herself, stripping one glittering branch after another, shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair, and Amiel mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry trees. That summer the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than Shabata and his man could do to keep up with the corn. The orchard was a neglected wilderness. All sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there Up there, splotches of wild larkspur, pale green and white spikes of whorehound, plantations of wild cotton, tangles of foxtail and wild wheat. South of the apricot trees, cornering on the wheat field, was Frank's alfalfa, where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms. Amel paused and straightened his back. I don't know. About like the Germans, wasn't it? Marie went on as if she had not heard him." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 11810.5, "words": 709, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the goulds was getting a divorce, and Frank took it as a personal affront. In printing the story of the young man's marital troubles, the knowing editor gave a sufficiently coloured account of his career, stating the amount of his income and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it. Frank read English slowly, and the more he read about this divorce case, the angrier he grew. He turned to his farmhand, who was reading the other half of the paper. By God, listen here what he do with his money. And Frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. Marie sighed. She thought it hard that the Goulds, for whom she had nothing but good will, should make her so much trouble. She hated to see the Sunday newspapers come into the house. Frank was always reading about the doings of rich people and feeling outraged. He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies, how they bribed the courts, and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose. Frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. After he was gone, Marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter making. A brisk wind had come up and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky. The orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun. Marie stood looking toward it wistfully, her hand on the lid of the churn, when she heard a sharp ring in the air, the merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe. That invitation decided her. She ran into the house, put on a short skirt and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow. His yellow canvas leggings and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees. Isn't everything beautiful after the rain? Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed. When I heard it raining in the night, I thought maybe you would come and do it for me today. The wind wakened me. Didn't it? Blow dreadfully? Just smell the wild roses. They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before. I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them too? What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty? Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season too, then. It's exciting to see everything growing so fast, and to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last, if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them, I mean that low place down by my tree, where there are so many. Aren't you splashed? Look at the spider webs all over the grass. Goodbye. I'll call you if I see a snake. In a few moments he heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail, and he began to swing his scythe with that long, even stroke that few American boys ever learn. Marie picked cherries and sang softly to herself, stripping one glittering branch after another, shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair. and Amiel mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry trees. That summer the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than Shabata and his man could do to keep up with the corn. The orchard was a neglected wilderness. All sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there, splotches of wild larkspur, pale green and white spikes of whorehound, plantations of wild cotton, tangles of foxtail and wild wheat. South of the apricot trees, cornering on the wheat field, was Frank's alfalfa, where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms. Emil paused and straightened his back. I don't know. About like the Germans, wasn't it? Marie went on as if she had not heard him." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 8749.2, "words": 605, "errors": 13, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, august fifteenth. The sea unbroken all round, no land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant. My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass, and folds his arms with the air of an injured man. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him, but now that I am well his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favorably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? You seem anxious, my uncle, I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious? No, not at all. Impatient, then? One might be, with less reason than now. Yet Yet we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues. Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. We are not descending, as we ought to be, the Professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage taking a little sail. But, I remarked, since we have followed the road that Saknusim has shown us, that is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Seknusim meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream that we followed led us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, august sixteenth. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim or fail altogether, but there seemed no reason to fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly the sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. And why not? My uncle took sounding several times, but when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints, as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal. The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. I could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar. Surely will my last night's dream be realized. These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength. I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. I saw at the Hamburg Museum the skeleton of one of these creatures, thirty feet in lengthh. No, surely it cannot be." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 10633.3, "words": 605, "errors": 10, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, august fifteenth. The sea unbroken all round, no land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass, and folds his arms with the air of an injured man All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him, but now that I am well, his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favourably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? You seem anxious, my uncle, I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious? No, not at all. Impatient, then? One might be, with less reason than now. Yet we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. We are not descending, as we ought to be, the professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage taking a little sail But, I remarked, since we have followed the road that Saknusim has shown us, that is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Saknussim meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream that we followed led us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, august sixteenth. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim or fail altogether. But there seemed no reason to fear. the shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly this sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. And why not? My uncle took sounding several times, but when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints, as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal. The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. I could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar. Surely will my last night's dream be realized? These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength, and I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. I saw at the Hamburg Museum the skeleton of one of these creatures, thirty feet in length. No, surely it cannot be." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 8750.9, "words": 621, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather if we may use the term, will change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapours pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of sailing waters. The clouds are sinking lower and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain which is dropped over the theater on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. I feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes, the heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomily and threateningly. They wear that impeccable look which I have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm. The air is heavy, the sea is calm. In the distance the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. By degrees they dilate, then gain in huge size what they lose in number. Such is their ponderous weight that they cannot rise from the horizon but obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields. The gloom upon them deepens, and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. From time to time a fleecey tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it, drops down upon the dense floor of grey and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. The atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. My whole body is saturated, my hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool under the action of an electrical machine. It seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. At ten in the morning the symptoms of storm become aggravated. The wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength, the vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful windy gusts and rushing storms. Here is some very bad weather coming on. The professor made no answer. His temper is awful to judge from the working of his features, as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him to an indefinite extent. He can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously. There's a heavy storm coming on, I cried, pointing towards the horizon. Those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea. A deep silence falls on all around. The lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm, nature seems to breathe no more, and to be sinking into the stillness of death. On the mast already I see the light play of Alaman Saint Elwell's fire, the outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind and hangs like a sheet of lead. The rudder stands motionless in a sluggish, waveless sea. But if we have now ceased to advance, why do we yet leave that sail loose, which at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment? That will be the safest. no, never shouted my impetuous uncle. Never! Let the wind catch us if it will. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. The piled up vapours condensed into water, and the air put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mist, rouses itself into a whirlwind. It rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern. The darkness deepens. Scarcely can I jot down a few hurried notes. The helm makes a bound, my uncle falls full length. I creep close to him," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 10625.4, "words": 621, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather if we may use the term, will change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapours, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of sailing waters The clouds are sinking lower and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain which is dropped over the theatre on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. I feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes. The heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomily and threateningly. They wear that impeccable look which I have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm. The air is heavy, the sea is calm. In the distance the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. By degrees they dilate, then gain in huge size what they lose in number. Such is their ponderous weight that they cannot rise from the horizon, but obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields The gloom upon them deepens, and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. From time to time a fleecy tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it, drops down upon the dense floor of grey and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. The atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. My whole body is saturated. My hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool under the action of an electrical machine. It seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. At ten in the morning the symptoms of storm become aggravated. The wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength. The vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful windy gusts and rushing storms. Here's some very bad weather coming on. The professor made no answer. His temper is awful to judge from the working of his features, as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him to an indefinite extent. He can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously There's a heavy storm coming on I cried, pointing towards the horizon. Those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea. A deep silence falls on all around. The lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm, nature seems to breathe no more, and to be sinking into the stillness of death. On the mast already I see the light play of Alaman Saint Elwil's fire, The outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind and hangs like a sheet of lead. The rudder stands motionless in a sluggish, waveless sea. But if we have now ceased to advance, why do we yet leave that sail loose, which at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment? That will be the safest. No, no, never shouted my impetuous uncle. Never let the wind catch us if it will. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. the piled up vapours condensed into water, and the air, put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mist, rouses itself into a whirlwind. It rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern. The darkness deepens. Scarcely can I jot down a few hurried notes. The helm makes a bound, my uncle falls full length, I creep close to him" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 8735.1, "words": 716, "errors": 12, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Oh, my poor little feet I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears, and how odd the directions will look. Hearth rug near the fender with Alice's love. Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking. Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice it was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through the into the garden with one eye, but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, said Alice. A great girl like you, she might well say this, to go on crying in this way, stop this moment, I tell you. But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came Oh, the Duchess, the Duchess Oh, won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting? Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone, so when the rabbit came near her she began in a low timid voice If you please, sir, the rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking. dear, how queer everything is today, and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different, but if I'm not the same, the next question is who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. I'm sure I'm not Ada, she said, for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all. And I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things. And she, oh, she knows such a very little, besides she she, and I'm I, and oh dear, how puzzling it all is. I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. I shall never get to twenty at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome no, that's all wrong, I'm certain. I must have been changed for Mabel. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words, said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on. I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that pokey little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh, ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying Come up again, dear. Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up. If not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else. But oh dear, cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, I do wish they would put their heads down. I am so very tired of being all alone here" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 10855.2, "words": 716, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Oh, my poor little feet I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears, and how odd the directions will look. Hearth rug near the fender with Alice's love. Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking. Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice it was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through the into the garden with one eye, but to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again You ought to be ashamed of yourself, said Alice. A great girl like you she might well say this to go on crying in this way, stop this moment, I tell you. but she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came Oh, the Duchess, the Duchess oh, won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting? Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone, so when the rabbit came near her she began in a low timid voice. If you please, sir, the rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking. dear, how queer everything is to day and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different, but if I'm not the same, the next question is why? Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. I'm sure I'm not Ada, she said, for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all. And I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things and she oh she knows such a very little besides she's she and I'm I and oh dear how puzzling it all is I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. I shall never get to twenty at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris, and And Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome no, that's all wrong, I'm certain. I must have been changed for Mabel. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words, said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on. I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that pokey little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh and Ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying, Come up again, dear. Tell me that first, and then if I like being that person, I'll come up, If not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else. But oh dear, cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, I do wish they would put their heads down. I am so very tired of being all alone here." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 7362.2, "words": 579, "errors": 21, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will, on one condition. And what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American. Straight him, so to speak, because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran Church, actually to read Luther unless we make him talk as he would talk to day to Americans. And what book would be your choice? There is one book that Luther himself like better than any other. Let us begin with that, his commentary on Galatians. The undertaking, which seems so attractive when viewed as a literary task, proved the most difficult one, and at times became oppressive. The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than fifteen hundred pages, ordinary octavo, like this, since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides laboring under the handicaps of an archaic style, had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary on Galatians. The Reformer had lectured on this epistle of Saint Paul's in 1519, and again in fifteen twenty three. It was his favourite among all the biblical books. In his table talks the saying is recorded The epistle to the Galatians is my epistle. To it I am, as it were, in wedlock. It is my Catherine. Much later, when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his Latin works, he remarked to his home circle, If I had my way about it, they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine, my Galatians, for instance. The lectures which are preserved in the works herewith submitted to the American public were delivered in 1531. They were taken down by George Roarer, who held something of a deanship at Wittenberg University, and who was one of Luther's aides in the translation of the Bible. In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians, and Rohrer prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justus Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings, published in 1539. It presents, like no other of Luther's writings, the central thought of Christianity, the justification of the sinner for the sake of Christ's merits alone. We have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand, which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the Latin original. But the essence of Luther's lectures is there. May the reader accept with indulgence where in this translation we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The Lord who has given us power to teach and to hear, let him also give us the power to serve and to do. Luke 2. Glory to God in the highest. And on earth peace, good will to men. Isaiah 40. The word of our God shall stand forever." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 10878.8, "words": 579, "errors": 20, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will, on one condition. And what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American. Streamline him. so to speak, because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran Church, actually to read Luther unless we make him talk as he would talk today to Americans. And what book would be your choice? There is one book that Luther himself liked better than any other. Let us begin with that, his commentary on Galatians. The undertaking, which seemed so attractive when viewed as a literary task, proved a most difficult one, and at times became oppressive. The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than fifteen hundred pages, ordinary octavo, like this, since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides labouring under the handicaps of an archaic style had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary on Galatians. The Reformer had lectured on this epistle of Saint Paul's in 1519 and again in 1523, It was his favourite among all the biblical books. In his table talks the saying is recorded The epistle to the Galatians is my epistle. To it I am, as it were, in wedlock, It is my Catherine. Much later, when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his Latin works, he remarked to his home circle, If I had my way about it, they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine, my Galatians, for instance. The lectures which are preserved in the works herewith submitted to the American public were delivered in 1531. They were taken down by George Rohrer, who held something of a deanship at Wittenberg University, and who was one of Luther's aides in the translation of the Bible. In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians, and Rohrer prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justus Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings, published in 1539. It presents, like no other of Luther's writings, the central thought of Christianity, the justification of the sinner for the sake of Christ's merits alone. We have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand, which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the Latin original. But the essence of Luther's lectures is there. May the reader accept with indulgence where in this translation we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The Lord who has given us power to teach and to hear Let him also give us the power to serve and to do. Luke 2, glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men. Isaiah 40. The word of our God shall stand forever." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 8791.5, "words": 726, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The world bears the gospel a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world. Jealous for its own religious views, the world in turn charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine, offensive to God and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience, and every blessing. Just for that the world abhors the gospel. In every way they sought to undermine the authority of Saint Paul. They said to the Galatians, You have no right to think highly of Paul. He was the last to turn to Christ, but we have seen Christ, we heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error, we who have received the Holy Ghost? Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ, nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed he persecuted the Church of Christ for a long time. When men claiming such credentials come along, they deceive not only the naive, but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith. This same argument is used by the papacy. Do you suppose that God, for the sake of a few Lutheran heretics, would disown his entire church? No Or do you suppose that God would have left his church floundering in error all these centuries? The Galatians were taken in by such arguments, with the result that Paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question. Against these boasting, false apostles, Paul boldly defends his apostolic authority in ministry. Humble man that he was, he will not now take a back seat. The certainty of our calling. As the ambassador of a government is honored for his office, and not for his private person, so the minister of Christ should exalt his office, in order to gain authority among men. This is not vain glory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise but to the praise of God. Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of God. Paul, an apostle, not of men, etc. Paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry. He says to the Galatians, My call may seem inferior to you. When Paul speaks of those called by men, I take it he means those whom neither God nor man send, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by men, I take it he means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways. Either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. The most they could claim is that they were sent by others, but as for me, I was called neither of men nor by man, but directly by Jesus Christ. My call is in every respect like the call of the apostles. In fact, I am an apostle. He mentions the apostles first because they were appointed directly by Jes Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates and then cast lots, praying that God would indicate which one he would have. To be an apostle he had to have his appointment from God. In the same manner, Paul manner Paul was called as the apostle of the Gentiles. The call is not to be taken lightly, for a person to possess knowledge is not enough, he must be sure that he is properly called. This is our comfort in the ministry, that ours is a divine office to which we have been divinely called. Reversely, what an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. It spoils one's best work. When I was a young man I thought Paul was making too much of his call. I did not understand his purpose. I did not then realize the importance of the ministry." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 10396.9, "words": 726, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The world bears the gospel a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world. Jealous for its own religious views, the world in turn charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine, offensive to God and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience, and every blessing. Just for that the world abhors the gospel. In every way they sought to undermine the authority of Saint Paul. They said to the Galatians, You have no right to think highly of Paul. He was the last to turn to Christ, but we have seen Christ, we heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error, we who have received the Holy Ghost? Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ, nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed he persecuted the Church of Christ for a long time. When men claiming such credentials come along, they deceive not only the naive, but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith. This same argument is used by the papacy. Do you suppose that God, for the sake of a few Lutheran heretics, would disown his entire church? Or do you suppose that God would have left his church floundering in error all these centuries? The Galatians were taken in by such arguments, with the result that Paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question. Against these boasting, false apostles, Paul boldly defends his apostolic authority in ministry. Humble man that he was, he will not now take a back seat. The certainty of our calling. As the ambassador of a government is honored for his office, and not for his private person, so the minister of Christ should exalt his office, in order to gain authority among men. This is not vain glory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise, but to the praise of God. Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of God. Verse one Paul, an apostle, not of men, etc. Paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry. He says to the Galatians, My call may seem inferior to you. When Paul speaks of those called by men, I take it he means those whom neither God nor man send, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by man, I take it he means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. The most they could claim is that they were sent by others, but as for me, I was called neither of men nor by man, but directly by Jesus Christ. My call is in every respect like the call of the apostles. In fact, I am an apostle. He mentions the apostles first because they were appointed directly by God. Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates, and then cast lots, praying that God would indicate which one he would have. To be an apostle he had to have his appointment from God. In the same manner Paul was called as the apostle of the Gentiles. The call is not to be taken lightly, for a person to possess knowledge is not enough. He must be sure that he is properly called. This is our comfort in the ministry, that ours is a divine office to which we have been divinely called. Reversely, what an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. It spoils one's best work. When I was a young man I thought Paul was making too much of his call. I did not understand his purpose. I did not then realize the importance of the ministry." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 8834.7, "words": 512, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science, out of the confusion of theological, mathematical, and physiological notions, out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts, and from a greater perception of similarities which lie on the surface than of differences which are which are hidden from view. To bring sense under the control of reason, to find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances, either the highway of mathematics, or more devious paths suggested by the analogy of men with the world and of the world with men, to see that all things have a cause and are tending towards an end. This is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher. He has no notion of trying an experiment and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature which are tumbling out at his feet, or of interpreting even the most obvious of them. He is driven back from the nearer to the more distant, from particulars to generalities, from the earth to the stars. He lifts up his eyes to the heavens and seeks to guide by their motions his erring footsteps. But we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected, nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination the same hold upon us, for he is hanging between matter and mind. He is under the dominion at the same time both of sense and of abstractions. His impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature. He sees the light, but not the objects which are revealed by the light. And he brings into juxtaposition things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder, because he finds nothing between them. He passes abruptly from persons to ideas and numbers, and from ideas and numbers to persons, from the heavens to man, from astronomy to physiology, he confuses, or rather does not distinguish subject and object, first and final causes, and is dreaming of geometrical figures lost in a flux of sense. He has no implements of observation such as the telescope or microscope. The great science of chemistry is a blank to him. It is only by an effort that the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher, or understand how, under such unequal conditions, his seems, in many instances, by a sort of inspiration, to have anticipated the truth. The influence which the Timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due partly to a misunderstanding. In the supposed depths of this dialogue, the Neoplatonists found hidden meanings and connections with the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and out of them they elicited doctrines quite at variance with the spirit of Plato. Believing that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost or had received his wisdom from Moses, they seemed to find in his writings the Christian Trinity, the word, the church, the creation of the world in a Jewish sense, as they really found the personality of God or of mind, and the immortality of the soul." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 11941.1, "words": 512, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science, out of the confusion of theological, mathematical, and physiological notions, out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts, and from a greater perception of similarities which lie on the surface than of differences which are hidden from view. To bring sense under the control of reason to find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances, either the highway of mathematics, or more devious paths suggested by the analogy of men with the world, and of the world with men, to see that all things have a cause, and are tending towards an end, This is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher. He has no notion of trying an experiment, and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature which are tumbling out at his feet. or of interpreting even the most obvious of them. He is driven back from the nearer to the more distant, from particulars to generalities, from the earth to the stars. He lifts up his eyes to the heavens, and seeks to guide by their motions his erring footsteps. But we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected, nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination the same hold upon us. for he is hanging between matter and mind. He is under the dominion, at the same time, both of sense and of abstractions. His impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature. He sees the light, but not the objects which are revealed by the light. and he brings into juxtaposition things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder, because he finds nothing between them. He passes abruptly from persons to ideas and numbers, and from ideas and numbers to persons. From the heavens to man, from astronomy to physiology, he confuses, or rather does not distinguish subject and object, first and final causes, and is dreaming of geometrical figures lost in a flux of sense. He has no implements of observation such as the telescope or microscope. The great science of chemistry is a blank to him. It is only by an effort that the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher, or understand how, under such unequal conditions, has seems, in many instances, by a sort of inspiration, to have anticipated the truth. The influence which the Timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due partly to a misunderstanding, In the supposed depths of this dialogue, the Neoplatonists found hidden meanings and connections with the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and out of them they elicited doctrines quite at variance with the spirit of Plato. Believing that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost, or had received his wisdom from Moses, they seemed to find in his writings the Christian Trinity, the word, the church, the creation of the world in a Jewish sense, as they really found the personality of God or of mind, and the immortality of the soul." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 8841.1, "words": 585, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Socrates begins the Timaeus with a summary of the Republic. He lightly touches upon a few points the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes, the double nature and training of the guardians, the community of property and of women and children, but he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers. And now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion. He would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle. And therefore to you I turn, Timaeus, citizen of Locris, who are at once a philosopher and a statesman, and to you, Critias, whom all Athenians know to be similarly accomplished, and to Hermocrates, who is also fitted by nature and education, to share in our discourse. Hermocrates We will do our best, and have been already preparing, for on our way home Critius told us of an ancient tradition, which I wish, Critius, that you would repeat to Socrates. I will, if Timaeus approves. I approve. Listen then, Socrates, to a tale of Solens, who, being the friend of Dropidas, my great grandfather, told it to my grandfather Critius, and he told me. The narrative related to ancient famous actions of the Athenian people, and to one especially, which I will rehearse in honour of you and of the goddess. Critias, when he told this tale of the olden time, was ninety years old, I being not more than ten. The occasion of the rehearsal was the day of the epituria called the registration of youth, at which our parents gave prizes for recitation. Some poems of Solon were recited by the boys. They had not, at that time, gone out of fashion, and the recital of them led some one to say, perhaps in compliment to Critius, that Solon was not only the wisest of men, but also the best of poets. And what was the subject of the poem? said the person who made the remark. The subject was a very noble one. It described the most famous action in which the Athenian people were ever engaged. But the memory of their exploits had passed away owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors. Tell us, said the other, the whole story, and where Solon heard the story. The citizens have a friendly feeling towards the Athenians, believing themselves to be related to them. Hither came Solon and was received with honor, and here he first learned, by conversing with the Egyptian priests, how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity. Thereupon an aged priest said to him, O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are ever young, and there is no old man who is a Hellen. What do you mean? he asked. In mind, replied the priest, I mean to say that you are children. There is no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you which is white with age, and I will tell you why. Like the rest of mankind, you have suffered from convulsions of nature, which are chiefly brought about by the true great agencies of fire and water. For there occurs at long intervals a derangement of the heavenly bodies, and then the earth is destroyed by fire. Now the Nile is our saviour from fire, and as there is little rain in Egypt, we are not harmed by water, whereas in other countries, when a deluge comes, the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 10865.0, "words": 585, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Socrates begins the Timaeus with a summary of the Republic. He lightly touches upon a few points the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes, the double nature and training of the guardians, the community of property and of women and children. But he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers. And now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion. He would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle. And therefore to you I turn, Timaeus, citizen of Locris, who are at once a philosopher and a statesman, and to you, Critias, whom all Athenians know to be similarly accomplished, and to Hermocrates, who is also fitted by nature and education, to share in our discourse Hermocrates We will do our best, and have been already preparing, for on our way home Critias told us of an ancient tradition, which I wish, Critias, that you would repeat to Socrates. I will, if Timaeus approves. I approve Listen then, Socrates, to a tale of Solens, who, being the friend of Dropidas, my great grandfather, told it to my grandfather Critias, and he told me. The narrative related to ancient famous actions of the Athenian people, and to one especially, which I will rehearse in honor of you and of the goddess. Critius, when he told this tale of the olden time, was ninety years old, I being not more than ten. The occasion of the rehearsal was the day of the epituria, called the Registration of Youth, at which our parents gave prizes for recitation Some poems of Solon were recited by the boys. They had not, at that time, gone out of fashion, and the recital of them led some one to say perhaps in compliment to Critias, that Solon was not only the wisest of men, but also the best of poets. And what was the subject of the poem? said the person who made the remark. The subject was a very noble one. He described the most famous action in which the Athenian people were ever engaged. But the memory of their exploits had passed away owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors. Tell us, said the other, the whole story, and where Solon heard the story. The citizens have a friendly feeling towards the Athenians, believing themselves to be related to them. Hither came Solon, and was received with honour, and here he first learned, by conversing with the Egyptian priests, how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity. Thereupon an aged priest said to him, O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are ever young, and there is no old man who is a Hellen. What do you mean? he asked. In mind, replied the priest, I mean to say that you are children. There is no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you which is white with age, and I will tell you why. Like the rest of mankind, you have suffered from convulsions of nature, which are chiefly brought about by the two great agencies of fire and water. For there occurs at long intervals a derangement of the heavenly bodies, and then the earth is destroyed by fire. Now the Nile is our saviour from fire, and as there is little rain in Egypt, we are not harmed by water, whereas in other countries, when a deluge comes, the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 8768.5, "words": 672, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters. Another, scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling, and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already at a point in economic evolution far antedating the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods as an evidence of pecuniary strength had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predatory culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are all so intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character, but unlike the latter, it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative growth. It is an adaptation to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well established in men's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honorable superior class made up of the able-bodied men on the one side, and a base inferior class of labouring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls to the women is merely incidental to their work, it is a means to their continued labour, and not a consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. And productive consumption of goods is honourable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily it becomes substantially honourable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things. The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, the taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals and more particularly, certain beverages are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dietary is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be noble and honorific. Therefore the base classes, primarily the women, practice an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, except in countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men of gentle birth and breeding to consume them. Drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants therefore tend in their turn to become honorific, as being a mark at the second remove, of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 11651.3, "words": 672, "errors": 13, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters. Another, scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one, is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling, and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already at a point in economic evolution far antedating the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods as an evidence of pecuniary strength had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predatory culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are all so intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character, but unlike the latter, it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative of growth. It is an adaptation to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well established in men's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honourable superior class made up of the able bodied men on the one side, and a base inferior class of labouring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls through the women is merely incidental to their work. It is a means to their continued labour, and not a consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. And productive consumption of goods is honourable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily it becomes substantially honourable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, the taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals, and, more particularly, certain beverages, are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dietary is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be noble and honorific. Therefore the base classes, primarily the women, practise an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, except in countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men of gentle birth and breeding to consume them. Drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants therefore tend in their turn to become honorific, as being a mark at the second remove, of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 8846.9, "words": 747, "errors": 11, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently these two groups coincide. The dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife or the chief wife, and, as would be expected, in the later development of the institution, when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last. But as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached, where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone. In the communities of the Western culture this point is at present found among the lower middle class. And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class there is no pretence of leisure on the part of the head of the household. Through force of circumstances it has fallen into disuse, but the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household, disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary businessman of today. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity, in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities, which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us chiefly because we have been taught to find them pleasing. Pretty much all that is here insisted on is that, as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance if they are, they must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves to the great economic law of wasted effort. The requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure, at a point below which little, if any pretence of voiced effort, in ceremonial cleanness and the like is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously for the reputability of the household and its head, so that, as the latter day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset the drudge and chattel of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume, has become the ceremonial consumer of goods which he produces. But she still quite unmistakably remains his chatlin theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practised by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life, since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the second remove. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 10405.0, "words": 747, "errors": 10, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently these two groups coincide. The dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife or the chief wife, and, as would be expected, in the later development of the institution, when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last. But as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached, where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone. In the communities of the western culture this point is at present found among the lower middle class. And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class there is no pretense of leisure on the part of the head of the household. Through force of circumstances it has fallen into disuse, but the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household, disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary businessman of today. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity, in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities, which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us chiefly because we have been taught to find them pleasing. Pretty much all that is here insisted on is that, as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance if they are, they must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves to the great economic law of wasted effort. The requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure. At a point below which little, if any, pretence of wasted effort, in ceremonial cleanness and the like, is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously for the reputability of the household and its head. so that, as the latter day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset the drudge and chattel of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume, has become the ceremonial consumer of goods which he produces. But she still quite unmistakably remains his chatlin theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practised by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life, since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the second remove. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, both both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 8349.8, "words": 677, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground and tend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance both absolutely and relatively until it had absorbed all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual course of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods, both as a direct exponent of wealth and as an element in the standard of decency during the quasi peaceable culture. From that point onward consumption has gained ground until at present it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honourable and becomes imperative partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labor. The archaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi-peaceful stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship. Other circumstances permitting, that instinct disposes men to look with favour upon productive efficiency and on whatever is of human use. It disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labour continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all productive effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness. But when the quasi peaceable stage, with slavery and status, passes into the peaceable stage of industry, with wage labour and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play. It then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious, and asserts itself at least as an auxiliary canon of self complacency. But the fact that it may under stress of circumstances eventuate in inanities no more no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nest full of china eggs. This latter day uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecorously productive of either individual or collective gain marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the quasi peaceable stage. At the earliest stage, as was said above, the all dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent event in predatory activity, now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated, especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the Otium cum dignitata. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand, and will permit nothing beyond the most transient vogue to any employment that is substantially useful or productive. The consequence is that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practised by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 10909.4, "words": 677, "errors": 13, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground and tend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance both absolutely and relatively until it had abandoned all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual course of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods, both as a direct exponent of wealth and as an element in the standard of decency during the quasi peaceable culture From that point onward consumption has gained ground until at present it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honourable and becomes imperative partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labor, The archaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi peaceable stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship. Other circumstances permitting, that instinct disposes men to look with favour upon productive efficiency and on whatever is of human use. It disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labour continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all productive effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness but when the quasi peaceable stage With slavery and status passes into the peaceable stage of industry. With wage labour and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play. It then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious and asserts itself at least as an auxiliary canon of self complacency. But the fact that it may under stress of circumstances eventuate in inanities no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nest full of china eggs. This latter day uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecerously productive of either individual or collective gain marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the quasi peaceable stage At the earliest stage, as was said above, the all dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent in predatory activity now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated. Especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the Otium cum dignitate. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand, and will permit the earth nothing beyond the most transient vogue to any employment that is substantially useful or productive. The consequence is that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practised by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 10485.6, "words": 691, "errors": 19, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as every one likes to judge for himself, I copy the six opening stanzas, about a third of the whole, and certainly not the worst. So where he reigns in glory bright, Above those starry skies of night, Amid his paradise of light, O why may I not be? And often has my mother said, while on her lap I laid my head, she feared for time I was not made, but for eternity. So I can read my title clear, to mansions in the skies, and let me bid farewell to fear and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, she was distressed by a hearing that her friend E was likely to leave the neighbourhood for a considerable length of time. February twentieth What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You first pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavouring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we are in danger of danger of loving each other too well, of losing sight of the creator and idolatry of the creature. At first I could not say, Thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so. Being left a moment alone this morning, I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of God's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severer hand than the present disappointment. Since then I have felt calmer and humbler, and consequently happier. Last Sunday I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind. I began to read. A feeling stole over me such as I have not known for many long years. A sweet, placid sensation, like those I remember, which used to visit me when I was a little child, and on Sunday evenings in the summer, stood by the open window reading the life of a certain French nobleman, who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Torian clergyman's daughter, was always in a minority of one in our house of violent descent and radicalism. Her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose anyone without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously, sometimes picking out any grain of sense there might be in what I said, but never allowing anyone materially to interfere with her independence of thought and action. Mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence, but of strong, not to say violent prejudices, all running in favour of republicanism and descent. No other county but Yorkshire could have produced such a man. His brother had been a detonu in France, and had afterwards voluntarily taken up his residence there. Mr T himself had been much abroad, both on business and to see the great continental galleries of paintings. He spoke French perfectly, I have been told, when need was, but delighted usually in talking the broadest Yorkshire. He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. He would speak his broadest, bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms, and by and by, if he found his hearer could stand the shock, he would involuntarily show his warm, kind heart and his true taste and real refinement. They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand, mister T is dead." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 12444.5, "words": 691, "errors": 18, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as every one likes to judge for himself, I copy the six opening stanzas, about a third of the whole, and certainly not the worst. So where he reigns in glory bright, above those starry skies of night, amid his paradise of light, O why may I not be? And often has my mother said, While on her lap I laid my head, She feared for time I was not made, but for eternity. So I can read my title clear, To mansions in the skies, and let me bid farewell to fear and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, she was distressed by a hearing that her friend E was likely to leave the neighbourhood for a considerable length of time. February 20th. What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You first pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavoring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we are in danger of loving each other too well, of losing sight of the creator and idolatry of the creature. At first I could not say, Thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so. Being left a moment alone this morning, I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of God's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severer hand than the present disappointment. Since then I have felt calmer and humbler, and consequently happier. Last Sunday I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind. I began to read. A feeling stole over me such as I have not known for many long years. A sweet, placid sensation, like those I remember, which used to visit me when I was a little child, and on Sunday evenings in the summer, stood by the open window reading the life of a certain French nobleman. who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Torian clergyman's daughter, was always in a minority of one in our house of violent descent and radicalism. Her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose anyone without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously, sometimes picking out any grain of sense there might be in what I said, but never allowing any one materially to interfere with her independence of thought and action. Mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence, but of strong, not to say violent prejudices. all running in favour of republicanism and descent. No other county but Yorkshire could have produced such a man. His brother had been a detonu in France, and had afterwards voluntarily taken up his residence there. Mr T himself had been much abroad, both on business and to see the great continental galleries of paintings. He spoke French perfectly, I have been told, when need was, but delighted usually in talking the broadest Yorkshire. He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. He would speak his broadest, bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms, and by and by, if he found his hearer could stand the shock, he would involuntarily show his warm, kind heart, and his true taste and real refinement. They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand. Mr. T is dead." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 9698.9, "words": 598, "errors": 20, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "My apprenticeship in Paris, portraits, oddities, all sorts of things. To celebrate the arrival of her son, Sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. Balletti's father, who had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had his father's sister, who was older than Mario. She was known, under her theatrical name of Flaminia, in the literary world by several translations, but I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account, then in consequence of the story, known throughout Italy, of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. I had been announced to Flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, and she thought she honored me by addressing me addressing me at all, but she was wrong, for she displeased me greatly by her face, her manners, her style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, she made me understand that being herself an illustrious member of the Republic of Letters, she was well aware that she was speaking to an insect. In order to please her, I spoke I spoke to her of the Abbey Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer. Madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word schevre, which means divided, saying that it ought to be pronounced scura, and she added that I ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in Paris, telling me that it would be an important day in my life. She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man of eighty years of age, told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an imposter. Her husband, Louis Riccaboni, better known as Lilio, was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in seventeen sixteen and placed it at the service of the regent. He was a man of great merit. He had been very handsome and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public, in consequence not only of his talent, but also of the purity of his life. She was then about fifty years old, her figure was elegant, her air noble, her manners graceful and easy. She was affable, witty, kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, for it inspired everyone with the warmest sympathy, and yet, if you examined it attentively, there was not one beautiful feature. She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly. Yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she? Beautiful, certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who, not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling which compelled them to love her, had not the courage to study her, or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. Sylvia was the adoration of France parents, and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her, especially of the plays of Marivaux, for without her his comedies would never have gone to posterity. In Sylvia every quality was from nature, and the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 11074.0, "words": 598, "errors": 18, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My apprenticeship in Paris, portraits, oddities, all sorts of things. To celebrate the arrival of her son, Sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. Balletti's father, who had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had his father's sister, who was older than Mario. She was known, under her theatrical name of Flaminia, in the literary world by several translations, But I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account than in consequence of the story, known throughout Italy, of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. I had been announced to Flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, and she thought she honored me by addressing me at all, but she was wrong, for she displeased me greatly by her face, her manners, her style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, she made me understand that being herself an illustrious member of the Republic of Letters, she was well aware that she was speaking to an insect. In order to please her, I spoke to her of the Abbey Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer. Madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word skevra, which means divided, saying that it ought to be pronounced scura, and she added that I ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in Paris, telling me that it would be an important day in my life. She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man of eighty years of age, told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an imposter. Her husband, Louis Riccaboni, better known as Lilio, was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716 and placed it at the service of the regent. He was a man of great merit. He had been very handsome and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public, in consequence not only of his talent, but also of the purity of his life. She was then about fifty years old, her figure was elegant, her air noble, her manners graceful and easy. She was affable, witty, kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, for it inspired every one with the warmest sympathy, and yet, if you examined it attentively, there was not one beautiful feature. She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly. Yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she? Beautiful, certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who, not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling which compelled them to love her, had not the courage to study her, or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. Sylvia was the adoration of France, and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her, especially of the plays of Marivaux, for without her his comedies would never have gone to posterity. In Sylvia every quality was from nature, and the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 8651.9, "words": 601, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "On the 6th of April, 1830, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints was formally organized and thus took on a legal existence. At that time there may have been, and probably were, many times that number, who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith. But as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formerly took part. Such was the beginning of the church, soon to be so universally maligned. Its origin was small, a germ, an insignificant seed, hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition. What was there to fear and the voluntary association of six men, avowedly devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes. At first but a family affair, opposition to the work has involved successfully the town, the county, the state, the country, and today the Mormon question has been accorded extended consideration at the hands of the national government, and indeed most civilized nations have taken cognizance of the same. Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the church. Instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most two score of adherents, the organization numbers today many hundred thousand souls. In place of a single hamlet, in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated, there now are about seventy stakes of Zion and about seven hundred organized wards, each ward and stake with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations. The practice of gathering its proselytes into one place prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches, and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad, very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the church. Nevertheless, the mustard seed, among the smallest of all seeds, has attained the proportions of a tree, and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches. The acorn is now an oak, offering protection and the sweets of satisfaction to every earnest pilgrim journeying its way for truth. From the organization of the church, the spirit of emigration rested upon the people. Their eyes were from the first turned in anticipation toward the evening sun. Not merely that the work of proselyting should be carried on in the West, but that the headquarters of the church should be there established. The Book of Mormon had taught the people the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes. Within three months from the beginning, the church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the Latter day Saints with favor, seeing in the Book of Mormon striking agreement with their own traditions The first well established seat of the church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of Lake Erie, and here soon rose the first temple of modern times. Among their many other peculiarities, the Latter-day Saints are characterized as a temple building people, as history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been. In the days of their infancy as a church, while in the thrall of poverty, and amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes, they laid the cornerstone, and in less than three years thereafter they celebrated the dedication of the Kirtland Temple, a structure at once beautiful and imposing." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 10481.7, "words": 601, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "On the 6th of April, 1830, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints was formally organized and thus took on a legal existence. At that time there may have been, and probably were, many times that number, who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith. but as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formally took part. Such was the beginning of the Church. soon to be so universally maligned. Its origin was small, a germ, an insignificant seed, hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition. What was there to fear and the voluntary association of six men, avowedly devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes? At first but a family affair, opposition to the work has involved successfully the town, the county, the state, the country, and to day the Mormon question has been accorded extended consideration at the hands of the national government, and indeed most civilized nations have taken cognizance of the same. Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the church. Instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most two score of adherents, the organization numbers today many hundred thousand souls. In place of a single hamlet, in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated, there now are about seventy stakes of Zion and about seven hundred organized wards. each ward and stake with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations. The practice of gathering its proselytes into one place prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches, and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad, very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the church. Nevertheless, the mustard seed, among the smallest of all seeds, has attained the proportions of a tree, and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches. the acorn is now an oak, offering protection and the sweets of satisfaction to every earnest pilgrim journeying its way for truth. From the organization of the church the spirit of emigration rested upon the people. Their eyes were from the first turned in anticipation toward the evening sun. Not merely that the work of proselyteing should be carried on in the west but that the headquarters of the church should be there established. The Book of Mormon had taught the people the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism, the Americ early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes. Within three months from the beginning the church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the Latter day Saints with favour, seeing in the Book of Mormon striking agreement with their own traditions. The first well established seat of the church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of Lake Erie, and here soon rose the first temple of modern times. Among their many other peculiarities the Latter day Saints are characterized as a temple building people, as history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been. In the days of their infancy as a church, while in the thrall of poverty and amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes, they laid the cornerstone, and in less than three years thereafter they celebrated the dedication of the Kurlin temple, a structure at once beautiful and imposing." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 9079.3, "words": 624, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The troops once in Utah had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly brought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then, in their hasty departure, the soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities, in the way of accoutrement and camp equipage. The army found the people in poverty and left them in comparative wealth. And what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military? For many months ominous rumblings had been heard, indications of the gathering storm which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife. It could not be doubted that war was imminent. Already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds, doing nothing for any phase of the public good. But a word further concerning the expedition in general The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme to weaken the government in its impending struggle with the secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession, but the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the North while accumulating the munitions of war in the South, to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated and remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army in the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion, are matters of history. It is also told how, at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the Confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah, ostensibly, to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion, which in fact had never come into existence, but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists. When the history of that great struggle with its antecedent and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indict naught but truth. When prejudice and partisanship are lived down, it may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan, was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion, turned his arms against the flag he had sworn to defend, doffed the blue, donned the grey, and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. Changes many and great followed in bewildering succession in Utah. The people were besought to take sides with the South in the awful scenes of cruel strife. It was openly stated in the East that Utah had allied herself with the cause of secession, and by others that the design was to make Salt Lake City the capital of an independent government, and surely such conjectures were pardonable on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nursed the delusion of Mormon disloyalty. Moreover, had the people been inclined to rebellion, what greater opportunity could they have wished? Already a north and a south were talked of. Why not set up also a west? A supreme opportunity had come, and how was it used? It was at this very time that the overland telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic and the Pacific, was completed, and the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Righam Young Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and laws of our country. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences, and in the outrages to which they had been subjected, only the maladministration of laws and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 10789.0, "words": 624, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The troops once in Utah had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly brought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then, in their hasty departure, the soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities, in the way of accoutrement and camp equipage. The army found the people in poverty, and left them in comparative wealth. And what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military? For many months ominous rumblings had been heard, indications of the gathering storm which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife. It could not be doubted that war was imminent. Already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds, doing nothing for any phase of the public good. But a word further concerning the expedition in general. The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme to weaken the government in its impending struggle with the secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession, but the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the North while accumulating the munitions of war in the South, to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated and remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army and the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion, are matters of history. It is also told how, at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the Confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah, ostensibly, to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion, which in fact had never come into existence, but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists. When the history of that great struggle with its antecedent and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indict naught but truth, when prejudice and partisanship are lived down, It may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan, was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion, turned his arms against the flag he had sworn to defend, doffed the blue, donned the grey, and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. Changes many and great followed in bewildering succession in Utah. The people were besought to take sides with the South in the awful scenes of cruel strife. It was openly stated in the East that Utah had allied herself with the cause of secession. and by others that the design was to make Salt Lake City the capital of an independent government, and surely such conjectures were pardonable on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nourished the delusion of Mormon disloyalty. Moreover, had the people been inclined to rebellion, what greater opportunity could they have wished? Already a north and a south were talked of. Why not set up also a west? A supreme opportunity had come, and how was it used? It was at this very time that the overland telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic and the Pacific, was completed, and the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Righam Young. Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the Constitution and laws of our country. End quote. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences, and in the outrages to which they had been subjected, only the maladministration of laws and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 8831.7, "words": 737, "errors": 28, "deleted": 11, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself, among them a history of dancing, a history of costume, a key to Shakespeare's sonnets, a study of the poetry of Ernest Downson, etc. Although Mainhall's enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended up by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage Englishman of American drama, tall and thin with high hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else. It's tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson, but Hilda Burgoyne's the hit of the piece. Hugh's written a delightful part for her, and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on only two weeks, and I've been half a dozen times already. I happen to have McConnell's box for tonight, or there'd be no chance of our getting places. There's everything in seeing Hilda while she's fresh and apart. She's apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do. Hilda Burgoyne, Alexander exclaimed mildly, why I haven't heard of her for years. Maynall laughed. It's only lately, since McConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she's come up. Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London, what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander? Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger. Do you know, I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself. In a way it would be a sacrifice. But dear me, we do need someone. Just then they drove up to the Duke of York, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre. When they entered the stage box on the left, the first act was well underway, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander's attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door. After all, he reflected, there's a small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn't thought of me for years. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage, there was a deep murmur of approbation. Everyone smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing. You see, he murmured in Alexander's ear as the curtain fell on the first act, one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish, the Burgoynes have been stagepeople for generations, and she has the Irish voice. It's delightful to hear it in a London theatre. She saves her hand, too. She's at her best in the second act. She's really McConnell's poetic motif, you see. Makes the whole thing a fairy tale. The second act opened before Philly Doyle's underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pot of Pothine across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather. Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall's sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half skeptical interest. As Mainhall had said, she was the second act. The plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 12158.8, "words": 737, "errors": 27, "deleted": 11, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists, Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs, careful to lose touch with none of them. He had written a number of books himself, among them a history of dancing, a history of costume, a key to Shakespeare's sonnets a study of the poetry of Ernest Dowson, etc. Although Mainhall's enthusiasm was often tiresome, and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination, his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most, so that they ended up by becoming, in a reluctant manner, his friends. In appearance, Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage Englishman of American drama, tall and thin with high hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair.. Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer. He had preconceived ideas about everything, and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics. He hated them when they presumed to be anything else. It's tremendously well put on, too. Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson, Behilda Burgoyne's the hit of the piece He's written a delightful part for her, and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on only two weeks, and I've been half a dozen times already. I happen to have McConnell's box for tonight, or there'd be no chance of our getting places. There's everything in seeing Hilda while she's fresh and apart. She's apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do. Hilda Burgoyne, Alexander exclaimed mildly, why I haven't heard of her for years. Maynall laughed. It's only lately, since McConnell and his set have got hold of her that she's come up Myself, I always knew she had it in her. If we had one real critic in London, what can one expect? Do you know, Alexander? Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger. Do you know I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself? In a way it would be a sacrifice, but dear me, we do need some one. Just then they drove up to the Duke of York, so Alexander did not commit himself, but followed Mainhall into the theatre, When they entered the stage box on the left, the first act was well underway, the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland. As they sat down, a burst of applause drew Alexander's attention to the stage. Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door After all, he reflected, there's a small probability of her recognizing me. She doubtless hasn't thought of me for years. The audience had come forewarned, evidently, and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation. Everyone smiled and glowed, and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing. You see, he murmured in Alexander's ear, as the curtain fell on the first act, one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness. Of course, Hilda is Irish, the Burgoynes have been stagepeople for generations, and she has the Irish voice. It's delightful to hear it in a London theatre. She saves her hand, too. She's at her best in the second act. She's really McConnell's poetic motif, you see. Makes the whole thing a fairy tale The second act opened before Philly Doyle's underground still, with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pothene across the bog, and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without, and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather Alexander, annoyed by Mainhall's sighs and exclamations, watched her with keen, half sceptical interest. As Mainhall had said, she was the second act. The plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot, her lightness of touch, upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately, and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 8719.3, "words": 804, "errors": 18, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place, and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant, who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh McConnell came with his sister and stood about, managing his tea cup awkwardly, and watching everyone out of his deep set, faded eyes. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party. The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts, and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar, who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational, and he was easy and pleasing in conversation Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their bus. They asked him to come to see them and Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. American tours have spoiled them, I'm afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn't care a great deal about many of them, I fancy. Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with McConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living room under the light of a tall desk lamp. Everyone at Lady Walford's was looking at it. Hilda curtsied. Is that why you think I'm pretty? I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I'm able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don't like English cookery. Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They're quite unusual, aren't they? Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d'Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg. Alexander walked over to the bookcases. It's the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven't got anything that doesn't belong. Rooms always look better by lamplight, in London at least, though Marie is clean, really clean as the French are. Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden Market yesterday morning. I'm glad, said Alexander simply. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear everyone saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends, he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don't talk of anyone else as they do of you. Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously, I've a neat little sum in the bank too now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It's not worth much, but I love it." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 11634.2, "words": 804, "errors": 20, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place, and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant, who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh McConnell came with his sister, and stood about, managing his teacup awkwardly, and watching everyone out of his deep set, faded eyes. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party. The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar, who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational, and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. American tours have spoiled them, I'm afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn't care a great deal about many of them, I fancy. Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with McConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a hansom, and drove to Bedford Square. When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living room under the light of a tall desk lamp. Everyone at Lady Walford's was looking at it. Hilda curtsied. Is that why you think I'm pretty? I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I'm able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don't like English cookery. Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They're quite unusual, aren't they? Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d'Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg. Alexander walked over to the bookcases. It's the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven't got anything that doesn't belong. Rooms always look better by lamplight, in London at least, though Marie is clean, really clean as the French are. Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden Market yesterday morning. I'm glad, said Alexander simply. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear everyone saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends, he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don't talk of anyone else as they do of you. Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously, I've a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a might of a hut in Galway. It's not worth much, but I love it." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 8689.4, "words": 776, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mercy, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience. Emerging at Euston at half past three o'clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. She blushed and smiled, and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day. I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire, you're chilled through. She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl. When did you come, Bartley? And how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word. I got in about ten minutes ago, I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train. Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity. There's something troubling you, Bartley. What is it? Bartley bent lower over the fire. It's the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I. Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head thrust forward like a catapult in leash. What about us, Bartley? she asked in a thin voice. He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate, and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked. and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word Everything Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately, from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool. I'll do anything you wish me to, Bartley, she said tremulously. I can't stand seeing you miserable. I can't live with myself any longer, he answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy. Hilda watched him from the corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes. it hasn't always made you miserable, has it? Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered. Always, but it's worse now. It's unbearable. It tortures me every minute. I am not a man who can live two lives, he went on feverishly. Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can't get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything. At the word deception spoken with such self contempt, the colour flashed back into Hilda's face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Could you could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend and not someone who had to be defied? It was myself I was defying Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out. He looked at her, and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 11790.9, "words": 776, "errors": 24, "deleted": 17, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 15, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mercy, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience. Emerging at Euston at half past three o'clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. She blushed and smiled, and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered, A coal fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day. I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire you're chilled through. She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl. When did you come, Bartley? And how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word. I got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat training. Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity. There's something troubling you, Bartley. What is it? Bartley bent lower over the fire. It's the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I. Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash. What about us, Bartley? she asked in a thin voice. He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate, and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame while the coals crackled and the clock ticked, and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word. Everything! Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately, from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool. I'll do anything you wish me to, Bartley, she said tremulously. I can't stand seeing you miserable. I can't live with myself any longer, he answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy, and Hilda watched him from the corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes. it hasn't always made you miserable, has it? Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered. Always, but it's worse now. It's unbearable. It tortures me every minute. I am not a man who can live two lives, he went on feverishly. Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can't get at it any more. There is this deception between me and everything. At the word deception spoken with such self contempt, the colour flashed back into Hilda's face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Could you could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend and not someone who had to be defied? It was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out. He looked at her, and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 8165.9, "words": 448, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter one Origin Pegrita is a terrible word. It engenders a whole world la pegre, for which red theft, and a hell la pegren, for which red hunger. Thus idleness is the mother. She has a son, theft, and a daughter, hunger, Where are we at this moment? In the land of slang. What is slang? It is at one and the same time a nation and a dialect. It is theft in its two kinds people and language. It is the language of prisons, galleys, convicts, of everything that is most abominable in society. We have never understood this sort of objections. Since that time two powerful romancers, one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart, the other and intrepid friend of the people, Balzac and Eugene Sue, having represented their ruffians as talking their natural language, as the author of The Last Day of a Condemned Man did in eighteen twenty eight. The same objections have been raised. People repeated, What do authors mean by that revolting dialect? Slang is odious, slang makes one shudder. Who denies that? Of course it does. When it is a question of probing a wound, a gulf, a society, since when has it been considered wrong to go too far, to go to the bottom? We have always thought that it was sometimes a courageous act, and, at least, a simple and useful deed, worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted and fulfilled merits, why should one not explore everything and study everything? Why should one halt on the way? The halt is a matter depending on the sounding line and not on the leads man. Nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity, in the broad light of thought of the horrible swarming of slang. It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night, which has just been torn from its cesspool. One thinks one beholds a frightful, living and bristling thicket which quivers, rustles, wavers, returns to shadow, threatens, and glares. One word resembles a claw, another an extinguished and bleeding eye. Such and such a phrase seems to move like the claw of a crab. Now, when has has horror ever excluded study? Since when has malady banished medicine? Can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper, the bat, the scorpion, the centipede, the tarantula, and one who would cast them back into their darkness, saying, Oh, how ugly that is. He would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language, a philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity. What is slang, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 11708.5, "words": 448, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "Chapter one Origin Pegrita is a terrible word. It engenders a whole world la pegre, for which read theft, and a hell la pegrenne, for which read hunger. Thus Idleness is the mother. She has a son, theft, and a daughter, hunger. Where are we at this moment? In the land of slang. what is slang? It is at one and the same time a nation and a dialect. It is theft in its two kinds people and language. It is the language of prisons, galleys, convicts, of everything that is most unlikely. abominable in society. We have never understood this sort of objections. Since that time two powerful romancers, one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart, the other an intrepid friend of the people, Balzac, and the other and Eugene Sioux, having represented their ruffians as talking their natural language, as the author of The Last Day of a Condemned Man did in 1828, the same objections have been raised. People repeated, What do authors mean by that revolting dialect? Slang is odious slang makes one shudder. Who denies that? Of course it does. When it is a question of probing a wound, a gulf, a society, since when has it been considered wrong to go too far, to go to the bottom? We have always thought that it was sometimes A courageous act, and, at least, a simple and useful deed, worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted and fulfilled merits, why should one not explore everything and study everything? Why should one halt on the way? The halt is a matter depending on the sounding line and not on the leads man. Nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity, in the broad light of thought, of the horrible swarming of slang. It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night, which has just been torn from its cesspool. One thinks one beholds a frightful, living and bristling thicket which quivers, rustles, wavers, returns to shadow, threatens and glares. One word resembles a claw, another an extinguished and bleeding eye. Such and such a phrase seems to move like the claw of a crab. Now, when has horror ever excluded study? Since when has malady banished medicine? Can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper, the bat, the scorpion, the centipede, the tarantula? And one who would cast them back into their darkness saying, Oh how ugly that is. He would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language, a philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity. What is slang, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 8678.0, "words": 652, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Oh, it's easy enough to make a fortune, Henry said. It seems to be easier than it is, I begin to think, replied Philip. Well, why don't you go into something? You'll never dig it out of the Astor Library. To the young American, here or elsewhere, the paths to fortune are innumerable, and all open. There is invitation in the air and success in all his wide horizon. He is embarrassed which to choose, and is not unlikely to waste years in dallying with his chances before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object He has no traditions to bind him or guide him, and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed, and make a new way for himself. Philip Sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself for ten years to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain, he felt that he could be a rich man. He wanted to be rich, he had a sincere desire for a fortune, but for some unaccountable reason he hesitated about addressing himself to the narrow work of getting it. He never walked Broadway, a part of its tide of abundant shifting life Without feeling something of the flush of wealth, and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well to do in this prosperous world. Especially at night in the crowded theatre, Philip was too young to remember the old chamber street box where the serious Burton led his hilarious and pagan crew. In the intervals of the screaming comedy, when the orchestra scraped and grunted and tutor its dissolute tunes, the world seemed full of opportunities to Philip, and his heart exulted with a conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck. Perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting, on the stage, where virtue had its reward in three easy acts. Perhaps it was the excessive light of the house or the music, or the buzz of the excited talk between acts. Perhaps it was youth which believed everything, but for some reason while Philip was at the theatre, he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it. Delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire, of cheap sentiment and high and mighty dialogue, will there not always be Rosen enough for the squeaking fiddlebow? And when he advances down to the footlights and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness. Do we not all applaud so as to drown the rest of the sentence? Philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman, with the exception named, but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man, without any exception whatsoever, is always acquitted by the jury. The fact was, though Philip Sterling did not know it, that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth. The modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement. It might be for a book, or for the skilful management of some great newspaper, or for some daring expedition like that of Lieutenant Strane or Dr. Kane. He was unable to decide exactly what it should be. Sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit and humbly preach the gospel of repentance, and it even crossed his mind that it would be noble to give himself to a missionary life to some benighted region, where the date palm grows, and the nightingale's voice is in tune, and the bulb sings on the off nights. Philip had a good appetite, a sunny temper, and a clear, hearty laugh" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 10345.6, "words": 652, "errors": 11, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Oh, it's easy enough to make a fortune, Henry said. It seems to be easier than it is, I begin to think, replied Philip. Well, why don't you go into something? You'll never dig it out of the Astor Library. To the young American, here or elsewhere, the paths to fortune are innumerable, and all open. There is invitation in the air and success in all his wide horizon. He is embarrassed which to choose, and is not unlikely to waste years in dallying with his chances, before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object. He has no traditions to bind him or guide him, and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed, and make a new way for himself. Philip Sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself for ten years to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain, he felt that he could be a rich man. He wanted to be rich, he had a sincere desire for a fortune, but for some unaccountable reason he hesitated about addressing himself to the narrow work of getting it. he never walked Broadway, a part of its tide of abundant shifting life, without feeling something of the flush of wealth, and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well to do in this prosperous world. Especially at night in the crowded theatre, Philip was too young to remember the old chamber street box where the serious Burton led his hilarious and pagan crew, In the intervals of the screaming comedy, when the orchestra scraped and grunted and tutor its dissolute tunes, the world seemed full of opportunities to Philip, and his heart exulted with a conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck Perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting on the stage, where virtue had its reward, in three easy acts. Perhaps it was the excessive light of the house, or the music, or the buzz of the excited talk between acts. Perhaps it was youth, which believed everything But for some reason while Philip was at the theatre, he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it. Delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire, of cheap sentiment and high and mighty dialogue, will there not always be Rosen enough for the squeaking fiddlebow? and when he advances down to the footlights and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness, do we not all applaud so as to drown the rest of the sentence? Philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman, with the exception named, but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man, without any exception whatsoever, is, is always acquitted by the jury The fact was, though Philip Sterling did not know it, that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth. The modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement. It might be for a book, or for the skilful management of some great newspaper, or for some daring expedition like that of Lieutenant Strain or Doctor Kane, He was unable to decide exactly what it should be. Sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit and humbly preach the gospel of repentance. and it even crossed his mind that it would be noble to give himself to a missionary life to some benighted region where the date palm grows, and the nightingale's voice is in tune, and the bulbull sings on the off nights. Philip had a good appetite, a sunny temper, and a clear, hearty laugh" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 11312.9, "words": 637, "errors": 12, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The letter that Philip Sterling wrote to Ruth Bolton on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the west found that young lady in her own father's house in Philadelphia. It was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city, which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world, and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country city by the intrusive strip of Camden and Amboy sand, which shuts it off from the Atlantic Ocean. It is a city of steady thrift, the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts. It was a spring morning, and perhaps it was the influence of it that made Ruth a little restless, satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors. Her sisters had gone to the city to show some country visitors Independence Hall, Gerard College, and Fairmount Waterworks and Park, four objects which Americans cannot die peacefully, even in Naples, without having seen. But Ruth confessed that she was tired of them, and also of the mint. She was tired of other things. She tried this morning an air or two upon the piano, sang a simple song in a sweet but slightly metallic voice, and then, seating herself by the open window, read Philip's letter. Was she thinking about Philip as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the treetops to the Chelton hills, or of that world which is entrance into her tradition bound life had been one of the means of opening to her? Whatever she thought, she was not idly musing, as one might see by the expression of her face. After a time she took up a book. It was a medical work, and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen as the statutes at large, but her face was soon aglow over its pages, and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door. Ruth? Well, mother, said the young student, looking up with a shade of impatience, I wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans. Mother, thee knows I couldn't stand it at Westfield. The school stifled me. It's a place to turn young people into dried fruit. I I know, said Margaret Bolton, with a half anxious smile, thee chafes against all the ways of friends, but what will thee do? Why is thee so discontented? If I must say it, mother, I want to go away and get out of this dead level. I had a visit yesterday from the Society's Committee by way of discipline because we have a piano in the house, which is against the rules. I hope thee told the elders that father and I are responsible for the piano, and that, much as thee loves music, thee is never in the room when it is played. Fortunately father is already out of meeting, so they can't discipline him. I heard father tell Cousin Abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy, that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now. Thy ways greatly try me, Ruth, and all thy relations. I desire thy happiness, first of all, but thee is starting out on a dangerous path. Is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people? I have not asked him, Ruth replied, with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies, who first made up her own mind, and then compelled others to make up theirs in accordance with hers" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 12845.1, "words": 637, "errors": 12, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The letter that Philip Sterling wrote to Ruth Bolton on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the West, found that young lady in her own father's house in Philadelphia. It was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city, which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world, and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country by the intrusive strip of Camden and Amboy sand, which shuts it off from the Atlantic Ocean. It is a city of steady thrift, the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts It was a spring morning, and perhaps it was the influence of it that made Ruth a little restless, satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors. Her sisters had gone to the city to show some country visitors Independence Hall, Gerard College, and Fairmount Waterworks and Park, four objects which Americans cannot die peacefully, even in Naples, without having seen. But Ruth confessed that she was tired of them, and also and also of the mint She was tired of other things. She tried this morning an air or two upon the piano, sang a simple song in a sweet but slightly metallic voice, and then seating herself by the open window, read Philip's letter. Was she thinking about Philip as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the treetops to the Chelton hills, or of that world which is entrance into her tradition bound life, had been one of the means of opening to her? whatever she thought, she was not idly musing, as one might see by the expression of her face. After a time she took up a book. It was a medical work, and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen as the statutes at large. But her face was soon aglow over its pages, and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door. Ruth? Well, mother, said the young student, looking up with a shade of impatience. I wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans. Mother, thee knows I couldn't stand it at Westfield. The school stifled me. It's a place to turn young people into dried fruit. I know, said Margaret Bolton, with a half anxious smile, thee chafes against all the ways of friends, but what will thee do? Why is thee so discontented? If I must say it, mother, I want to go away and get out of this dead level. I had a visit yesterday from the Society's Committee by way of discipline, because we have a piano in the house, which is against the rules. I hope thee told the elders that father and I are responsible for the piano, and that, much as thee loves music, thee is never in the room when it is played. Fortunately father is already out of meeting, so they can't discipline him. I heard father tell Cousin Abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy, that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now. Thy ways greatly try me, Ruth, and all thy relations. I desire thy happiness, first of all, but thee is starting out on a dangerous path. Is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people I have not asked him, Ruth replied, with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies who first made up her own mind and then compelled others to make up theirs in accordance with hers." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 10420.7, "words": 638, "errors": 16, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke. At first, so sound her sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy, but but that she was unhappy, she well recollected. When the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again, but it was impossible. Though her rest had been sound, it had not been refreshing. She was far from well, and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered. Mr Sandford shook his head. Miss Milner's health is not good, said Mrs. Horton a few minutes after. Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her to her. So there is to me, added Sanford, with a sarcastic sneer. And so there is to me, said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered their sentiments, and when they were all silent he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences. Soon after breakfast, Mr Sandford withdrew to his own apartment. Mrs. Horton, in a little time, went to hers. Lord Elmwood and Miss Woodley were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat and said I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I did not choose to tell her so, before Mr. Sanford, in giving Lord Frederick an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renew his addresses. That I am certain, replied Miss Woodley. She does not mean, and I assure you, my lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage. I am glad to hear it, he returned quickly, for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot but still have my doubts. You need have none, my lord, replied Miss Woodley, with a smile of confidence, and yet you must own her behavior has warranted them. Has it not been in this particular incoherent and unaccountable? The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt, answered Miss Woodley. Don't I say so? replied he warmly, and is not that a just reason for my suspicions? But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix? said Miss Woodley, with a colour mounting into her face. Not that I know of, not one more that I know of, he replied, with astonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong. Perhaps I am mistaken, answered she. I believe I am perfectly acquainted with them, replied Miss Woodley, with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn. After a hesitation, it is far from me, replied he, to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me, much less would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask any more questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove my friendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me, and every step that I take for her happiness I take in the most perplexing uncertainty. Miss Woodley sighed, but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for her reply, but as she made none, he proceeded. If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated, I certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorize it as the present" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 10426.7, "words": 638, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke. At first, so sound her sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy, but but that she was unhappy, she well recollected. When the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again, but it was impossible. Though her rest had been sound, it had not been refreshing. She was far from well and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered Mr Sandford shook his head. Miss Milner's health is not good, said Mrs. Horton a few minutes after. Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her. So there is to me, added Sanford, with a sarcastic sneer. And so there is to me, said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered their sentiments, and when they were all silent he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences. Soon after breakfast mister Sandford withdrew to his own apartment. Mrs. Horton, in a little time, went to hers. Lord Elmwood and Miss Woodley were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat and said I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I did not choose to tell her so before Mr. Sanford, in giving Lord Frederick an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renew his addresses. That I am certain, replied Miss Woodley. She does not mean, and I assure you, my lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage. I am glad to hear it, he returned quickly, for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot but still have my doubts. You need have none, my lord, replied Miss Woodley, with a smile of confidence, and yet you must own her behaviour has warranted them. Has it not been in this particular incoherent and unaccountable? The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt, answered Miss Woodley. Don't I say so? replied he warmly, and is not that a just reason for my suspicions? But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix? said Miss Woodley, with a colour mounting into her face. Not that I know of, not one more that I know of, he replied, with astonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong. Perhaps I am mistaken, answered she. I believe I am perfectly acquainted with them, replied Miss Woodley, with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn. After a hesitation, It is far from me, replied he, to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me, much less would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask any more questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove my friendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me, and every step that I take for her happiness I take in the most perplexing uncertainty. Miss Woodley sighed, but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for her reply, but as she made none, he proceeded. If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated, I certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorize it as the present." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 8679.7, "words": 703, "errors": 58, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The Carey children had only found it by accident. All their errands took them down the main street to the village, to the Popham's cottage at the foot of a little lane turning toward the river, or on to the post office and Bill Harmon's store, or to Colonel Wheeler's house and then to the railway station. One afternoon Nancy and Kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastures new, and had spied, down in a distant hollow, a gloomy grey house almost surrounded by cedars. A grove of poplars to the left of it only made the prospect more depressing. And if it had not been for a great sheet of water nearby nearby, floating with cow lilies and pond lilies, the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary. You won't never see nothin' of 'em, said Mr. Popham. Henry Lord ain't never darkened the village for years, I guess, and the young ones ain't never been to school so far. They have a teacher out from Portland Tuesdays and Fridays, and the rest of the week they study up for him. Henry's about as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mountain, and he's bringing up the children, so they'll be just as odd as he is. Is the mother dead? Mrs. Carey asked. Yes, dead these four years, and a good job for her, too. It's an awful queer world. Not that I could make a better one. I allers say when folks grumble. Now, if you was given the materials, could you turn out a better world than thisin? And when it come to that, what if you hid to furnish your own materials same as the Lord did? I guess you'd be put to it. Well, as I say, it's an awful queer world. They clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife beaters. I always thought a general reproof would be enough punishment for a wife beater, 'cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows. And the firebugs can't think of the right name something like sendiaries. And the breakers of the peace and whatnot, and yet the law has nothing to say to a man like Han Lord. Doctor of what? asked Mrs. Carey. Blamed if I know. I wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat. People don't have to be doctors of medicine in charge interrupted Gilbert. Grandfather was Alexander Carey LLD, doctor of laws, that is. Mr Popham laid down his brush. I swayed to man, he ejaculated. If you don't work hard you can't keep up with the times. Doctor of laws? Well, all I can say is they need doctrine, and I'm glad they got round to em, only Hen Lord ain't the man to do em any good. What has he done to make him so unpopular? queried Mrs. Carey. Done? He ain't done a thing he ordered since he was born. He keeps the thou shalt not commandments first rate henlord does. He neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death, poor little shatter. He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so that he couldn't study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper, which Osh always alluded to as the White Maria, whether in memory of his wife's Christian name or because his French accent was not up to the mark, no one could say. Mr Popham exaggerated nothing, but on the contrary left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the House of Lords. Henry Lord, with the degree of PhD to his credit, had been professor of zoology at a New England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific textbooks. Always irritable, cold, indifferent, he had grown rapidly more so as years went on," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 12290.4, "words": 703, "errors": 51, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Carey children had only found it by accident. All their errands took them down the main street to the village, to the Popham's cottage at the foot of a little lane turning toward the river, or on to the post office and Bill Harmon's store, or to Colonel Wheeler's house and then to the railway station One afternoon Nancy and Kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastures new, and had spied, down in a distant hollow, a gloomy grey house almost surrounded by cedars. A grove of poplars to the left of it only made the prospect more depressing. And if it had not been for a great sheet of water nearby, floating with cow lilies and pond lilies, the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary. You won't never see nothin' of 'em, said Mr Popham. Henry Lord ain't never darkened the village for years, I guess, and the young ones ain't never been to school so far. They have a teacher out from Portland Tuesdays and Fridays, and the rest of the week they study up for him. Henry's bout as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mountsing, and he's bringing up the children so they'll be just as odd as he is. Is the mother dead? Mrs. Carey asked. Yes, dead these four years, and a good job for her, too. It's an awful queer world. Not that I could make a better one. I allers say when folks grumble, Now, if you was given the materials, could you turn out a better world than thisin? And when it come to that, what if you heed to furnish your own materials, same as the Lord did? I guess you'd be put to it. Well, as I say, it's an awful queer world. They clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife beaters. I always thought a general reproof would be enough punishment for a wife beater, 'cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows. And the firebugs, can't think of the right name something like cendiaries. And the breakers of the peace and what not, and yet the law has nothin' to say to a man like Hanlord. Doctor of what? asked Mrs. Carey Blamed if I know. I wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat. People don't have to be doctors of medicine, interrupted Gilbert. Grandfather was Alexander Carey L. D., doctor of laws, that is. Mr Popham laid down his brush. I swaying to man, he ejaculated, if you don't work hard you can't keep up with the times. Doctor of laws? Well, all I can say is they need doctrine, and I'm glad they got round to em, only hen lord ain't the man to do em any good. What has he done to make him so unpopular? queried Mrs. Carey. Done? He ain't done a thing he order since he was born. He keeps the thou shalt not commandments first rate henlord does. He neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death, poor little shatter. He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so he couldn't study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper, which Osh always alluded to as the White Maria. Whether in memory of his wife's Christian name or because his French accent was not up to the mark, no one could say. Mr. Popham exaggerated nothing, but on the contrary left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the House of Lords Henry Lord, with the degree of PhD to his credit, had been professor of zoology at a New England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific textbooks. Always irritable, cold, indifferent, he had grown rapidly more so as years went on." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 8547.4, "words": 631, "errors": 21, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through Cousin Anne's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frost could not affect them. Natty Harmon tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening, for the water had to run uphill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink, and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment. The stove in the cellar, always alluded to by Gilbert as the Young Furnace, had not yet been used save by way of experiment, but it was believed to be a perfect success. Tonight there was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearthstones. They began with the one in the family sitting room. Colonel Wheeler, Ralph Thurston, Mr and Mrs. Bill Harmon with Natty and Ruffus, Mr and Mrs. Popham with Digby and Lally Joy, all standing in admiring groups and thrilling with delight at the order of events. Mother Carey sat by the fireplace, little Peter fairly radiant with excitement, leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand. When ye come into a house, salute it, and if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it. To all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation, may it be a house of God, a gate of heaven, for every house is builded by some man, but he that built all things is God, seeing that he giveth to every one of us life and breath and all good things. Mother Carey spoke these words so simply and naturally as she looked toward her neighbors one after another, with her hand resting on Peter's curly head, that they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say amen. Was that the Bible, Osh? whispered Bill Harmon. Don't know. Most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me. In the hush that followed Mother Carey's salutation, Gilbert approached with a basket over his arm, and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass and irons in the hearth. Then Nancy handed Peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying, To light this fire I give you a torch. In it are herbs of the field for health of the body, a fern leaf for grace, a sprig of elm for peace, one of oak for strength, with evergreen to show that we live forever in the deeds we have done. Kathleen waved the torch to and fro as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to night. Burn, fire, burn, flicker, flicker, flame, whose hand above this blaze is lifted shall be with touch of magic gifted, To warm the hearts of chilly mortals who stand without these open portals. The touch shall draw them to this fire, niger, niger, by desire, Whoso shall stand on this hearth stone, flame fanned, shall never, never stand alone, whose home is dark and drear and old, whose hearth is cold. This is his own. flicker, flicker, flame. Next came Olive's turn to help in the ceremonies. Ralph Thurston had found a line of Latin for them in his beloved Horrants Tibi splendet focus for you the hearth fire shines. Olive had painted the motto on a long, narrow panel of canvas, and giving it to Mr Popham, stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place prepared for it. The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the centre of attraction, but he was as dumb as Peter, and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 10429.4, "words": 631, "errors": 28, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through Cousin Anne's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frost could not affect them. Naddie Horman tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening, for the water had to run uphill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink, and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment. The stove in the cellar, always alluded to by Gilbert as the Young Furnace, had not yet been used, save by way of experiment. But it was believed to be a perfect success. Tonight there was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearthstones. They began with the one in the family sitting room. Colonel Wheeler, Ralph Thurston, mister and Mrs. Bill Harmon with Natty and Ruffus, mister and Mrs. Popham with Digby and Lallyjoy all standing in admiring groups and thrilling with delight at the order of events. Mother Carrie sat by the fireplace, little Peter fairly radiant with excitement, Leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand, When ye come into a house, salute it, and if the house be worthy let your peace come upon it. To all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation, may it be a house of God, a gate of heaven. For every house is builded by some man, but he that build all things is God, seeing that he giveth to every one of us life and breath and all good things. Mother Carey spoke these words so simply and naturally as she looked toward her neighbors one after another, with her hand resting on Peter's curly head, that they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say Amen. Was that the Bible, Osh? whispered Bill Harmon. Don't know. Most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me. In the hush that followed Mother Carrie's salutation, Gilbert approached with the basket over his arm, and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass and irons in the hearth. Then Nancy handed Peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying, To light this fire I give you a torch. In it are herbs of the field for health of the body, a fern leaf for grace, a sprig of elm for peace, one of oak for strength, with evergreen to show that we live forever in the deeds we have done. Kathleen waved the torch to and fro as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to night. Burn, fire, burn, flicker, flicker, flame. whose hand above this blaze is lifted shall be with touch of magic gifted, To warm the hearts of chilly mortals who stand without these open portals. The touch shall draw them to this fire, nigher, niger by desire. Who so shall stand on this hearth stone, flame fanned, shall never, never stand alone, whose home is dark and drear and old, whose hearth is cold, this is his own. flicker, flicker, flame Next came Olive's turn to help in the ceremonies. Ralph Thurston had found a line of Latin for them and his beloved Horance Tibi splende focus for you the hearth fire shines. Olive had painted the motto on a long, narrow panel of canvas, and, giving it to mister Popham, stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place prepared for it. The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the centre of attraction, but he was as dumb as Peter, and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 10350.7, "words": 648, "errors": 53, "deleted": 34, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 30, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Captain Servadac and his orderly At the time of which I write there might be seen in the registers of the Minister of War the following entry property twelve hundred francs in rentis length of service fourteen years, three months and five days. Rank captain on the staff at Mostagnem. Hector Servadac was thirty years of age, an orphan without lineage and almost without means, thirsting for glory rather than for gold, slightly scatterbrained, but warm hearted, generous, and brave, he was eminently formed to be the protege of the god of battles. For the first year and a half of his existence he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine dresser of Madoc, a lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess, in a word, he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things, and around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck. In appearance Hector Servadac was quite the type of an officer. He was rather more than five feet six inches high, slim and graceful, with dark curling hair and moustaches, well formed hands and feet, and a clear blue eye. He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed. It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself, that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order. We don't spin tops, is a favourite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits. But it must be confessed that Servadac, being naturally idle, was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draftsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famo Once, in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment. In an instant Servadac mounted the sidework, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body, shouted March on! And through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer, the troop passed in safety. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore, and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff. altogether being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. Captain Servadac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment. Of rivals he was well aware he had not a few, and amongst these not the least formidable was the Russian Count Timoshev, and although the young widow was all unconscious of the share she had in the matter, it was she and she alone, who was the cause of the challenge just given and accepted by her two ardent admirers. During his residence in the Gerby, Hector Servadac's sole companion was his orderly Ben Zuf. Ben Zuf was devoted body and soul to his superior officer. His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria, but such was by no means the case. In all his travels, and these had been not a few, he had never beheld scenery which could compete with that of his native home. No cathedral, not even Burgos itself, could vie with the church at Montmartre. Its racecourse could well hold its own against that of Pentalique, its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade, its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flour, but provided material for cakes of worldwide renown." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 11216.8, "words": 648, "errors": 26, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Captain Servadac and his orderly. At the time of which I write there might be seen in the registers of the Minister of War the following entry property twelve hundred francs in rentus. Length of service fourteen years, three months, and five days. Rank captain on the staff at Mostagnem. Hector Servadac was thirty years of age. An orphan without lineage and almost without means, thirsting for glory rather than for gold, slightly scatterbrained, but warm hearted, generous, and brave, he was eminently formed to be the protege of the god of battles. For the first year and a half of his existence he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine dresser of Madoc, a lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess, in a word, he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things. and around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck. In appearance Hector Servadac was quite the type of an officer, he was rather more than five feet six inches high, slim and graceful, with dark curling hair and mustaches, well formed hands and feet, and a clear blue eye, He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed. It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself, that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order. We don't spin tops, is a favourite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits. But it must be confessed that Servadac, being naturally idle, was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draftsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famous Uncle Tom at the writing school of St. Cyr. And in the records of his military service his name had several times been included in the order of the day. Once, in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment. In an instant Servadac mounted the sidework, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body shouted, March on! And through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer, the troop passed in safety. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore, and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff, altogether being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. Captain Servadac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment. Of rivals he was well aware he had not a few, and amongst these not the least formidable was the Russian Count Timoshev. And although the young widow was all unconscious of the share she had in the matter, it was she, and she alone, who was the cause of the challenge just given and accepted by her two ardent admirers. During his residence in the Gerby, Hector Servadac's sole companion was his orderly Ben Zuf. Ben Zuf was devoted body and soul to his superior officer. His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria, but such was by no means the case. In all his travels, and these had been not a few, he had he had never beheld scenery which could compete with that of his native home. No cathedral, not even Burgos itself, could vie with the church at Montmartre. Its racecourse could well hold its own against that of Pentalique, its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade, its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flower, but provided material for cakes of worldwide renown." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 10363.9, "words": 627, "errors": 18, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Inquiries unsatisfied. Fast as his legs could carry him, Servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff. It was quite true that a vessel was in sight, hardly more than six miles from the shore, but owing to the increase in the Earth's convexity and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the rigging of the top masts alone was visible above the water. This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight. The Dobrina exclaimed Servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope. Impossible, sir, rejoined Ben Zoof. There are no signs of smoke. The Dobrina, repeated the captain, positively. She is under sail, but she is Count Timoshef's yacht. He was right. If the Count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could Servadak regard him in the light of her of an adversary, circumstances had changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events. During the twenty seven days that she had been absent, the Dobrina, he conjectured, would have explored the Mediterranean, would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to Gorby Island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning its cause. Count Timosheff was no doubt magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly. The wind being adverse, the Dobrina did not make very rapid progress, but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and the sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoitre the new island, which must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted. Servadac took it for granted that the Dobrina was endeavoring to put in. It occurred to him, however, that the Count, on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. Zephyr and Gallette were soon saddled, and in twenty minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast. They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point there was a small, well sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in the roughest weather, would ensure the calmness of its waters. What, however, seemed most remarkable was the manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood, which was caused in all probability by the proximity of the body of which the huge disk had been so conspicuous on the night of the thirty first of December, the phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion. Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servadac turned his entire attention to the Dobrina, which, now little more than a mile from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsmen, soon carried nothing but her two topsails, Brigantine and Jib." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 10848.7, "words": 627, "errors": 16, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "inquiries unsatisfied. Fast as his legs could carry him, Servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff. It was quite true that a vessel was in sight. hardly more than six miles from the shore, but owing to the increase in the Earth's convexity and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the rigging of the top masts alone was visible above the water. This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight. The Dobrina exclaimed Servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope. Impossible, sir, rejoined Ben Zoof. There are no signs of smoke. The Dobrina, repeated the captain positively, she is under sail, but she is Count Timoshev's yacht. He was right. If the Count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could Servadac regard him in the light of an adversary. circumstances had changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events. During the twenty seven days that she had been absent, the Dobrina, he conjectured, would have explored the Mediterranean, would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to Gorby Island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning its cause. Count Timosheff was no doubt magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly. The wind being adverse, the Dobrina did not make very rapid progress, but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and the sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoitre the new island, which must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted. Servadac took it for granted that the Dobrina was endeavoring to put in. It occurred to him, however, that the Count, on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. Zephyr and Gallette were soon saddled, and in twenty minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast. They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point there was a small, well sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage, A narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in the roughest weather, would ensure the calmness of its waters. What, however, seemed most remarkable was the the manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood, which was caused in all probability by the proximity of the body of which the huge disk had been so conspicuous on the night of the thirty first of December, the phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion. Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servadac turned his entire attention to the Dobrina, which, now little more than a mile from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsmen, soon carried nothing but her two topsails, brigantine and jib." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 10797.3, "words": 655, "errors": 11, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 6, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Dubrina, a strong craft of two hundred tons burden, had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the Isle of Wight. Her sea going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe. Count Timochev was himself no sailor, but had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of Lieutenant Prokop, a man of about thirty years of age and an excellent seaman. Born on the Count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the emperor Alexander, Procope was sincerely attached by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty and affection to his patron's service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant ship he had entered the Imperial Navy, and had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the Count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters. The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal French These men without exception were all sons of the count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from his consciousness that the Count secretly partook of his own anxiety. Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a favorable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's attraction rendering the liquid particles so buoyant, that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented. For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria, but no land appeared to the south. Happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass. The magnetic needle, which in these regions had pointed about twenty two degrees from the north pole, had never deviated in the least, a proof that, although east and west had apparently changed places, north and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly useless. On the first morning of the cruise, Lieutenant Procope, who, like most Russians, spoke French fluently was explaining these peculiarities to Captain Servadac. The Count was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them all. It is very evident, said the lieutenant, that ever since the first of January the Earth has been moving in a new orbit, and from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the Sun. No doubt about that, said Servadac, and I suppose that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of Mercury. And finish up by a collision with the sun, added the Count. There's no fear of that, sir. The Earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated onto the sun. Can you satisfy us of that? asked the Count. I can, sir." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 11807.3, "words": 655, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Dubrina, a strong craft of two hundred tons burden, had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the Isle of Wight. Her sea going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe. Count Timosheff was himself no sailor, but but had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of Lieutenant Procope, a man of about thirty years of age and an excellent seaman. Born on the Count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the emperor Alexander, Procope was sincerely attached by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty and affection to his patron's service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant ship he had entered the Imperial Navy, and had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters. The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend who had given him his education. These men, without exception, were all sons of the count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from his consciousness that the Count secretly partook of his own anxiety. Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a favorable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's attraction, rendering the liquid particles so buoyant, that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented. For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria. but no land appeared to the south. Happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass. The magnetic needle, which in these regions had pointed about twenty two degrees from the north pole, had never deviated in the least, a proof that, although east and west had apparently changed places, north and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly useless. On the first morning of the cruise, Lieutenant Procope, who, like most Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining these peculiarities to Captain Servadac, The Count was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them all. It is very evident, said the lieutenant, that ever since the first of January the Earth has been moving in a new orbit. and from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the sun. No doubt about that, said Servadac, and I suppose that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of Mercury. And finish up by a collision with the sun, added the Count. There's no fear of that, sir. The Earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated onto the sun. Can you satisfy us of that? asked the Count. I can, sir" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 8697.8, "words": 823, "errors": 14, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "At another time Harald asked, What is your country, Olaf? Have you always been a thrall? The thrall's eyes flashed. There far off is my country across the water. My father was Gudbrand the Big. Two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle. Ten sons sat at meet with him, and I was the youngest. One day he said, You are all grown to be men, and there is not elbow room here for so many for so many chiefs. The eldest of you shall have my farm when I die. The rest of you off a Viking. He had three ships, these he gave to three of my brothers. But I stayed that spring and built me a boat. I made her for only twenty oars because I thought few men would follow me, for I was young, fifteen years old, but I made her in the likeness of a dragon. At the prow I carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out. I painted the eyes red for anger. There, stand so I said, and glare and hiss at my foes. In the stern I carved the tail up almost as high as the head. There I put the pilot seat and a strong tiller for the rudder. On the breast and sides I carved the dragon's scales. There she sat on the rollers as fair a ship as I ever saw. This is my vow, I will sail to Norway, and I will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches. Then I will get me a farm and will win her in that land. Now who will follow me? He is but a boy, the man said. Thirty men, one after another, raised their horns and said, On the next morning we got into my dragon and started. I sat high in the pilot's seat, as our boat flashed down the rollers into the water, I made this song and sang it. The dragon runs, where will she steer, where swords will sing, where spears will bite, where I shall laugh? So we harried the coast of Norway. We ate at many men's tables uninvited, many men we found overburdened with gold. Then I said, My dragon's belly is never full, and on board went the gold. Oh, it is better to live on the sea and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals. A house smells of smoke, a ship smells of frolic. From a house you see a sooty roof. From a ship you see Valhalla. Up and down the water we went, to get much wealth and much frolic. What of the farm, Olaf? Not yet, I answered. Viking is better for summer. It was so dark that I could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth. I stood with my back to the wall, for I wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me. Now start up the fire, I said. come, I called, when no one obeyed. A fire. My men laughed. Yes, a stingy host. He acts as though he had not expected us. But now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood. On a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together. Ho, thralls, I called to them, bring in the table, we are hungry. What man wants to spend the winter with no guests? The thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat. They set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it, and we sat and watched it boil while we joked. At last the supper began. The farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat, and you cannot wonder, for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths. You would not eat with us, you cannot say no to half of my ale. I drink this to your health. Then I drank half of the hornful, and set the rest across the fire to the farmer. He took it and smiled, saying, I thought that all this night's work would be my death. Oh, do not fear that, I laughed, for a dead man sets no tables. So we drank and all grew merrier. At last I stood up and said, Come, they cried, Thank him for that, farmer. Did you ever have such a lordly guest before? I went on, so I will give out this law, that my men shall never leave you alone. Hawken there shall be your constant companion, friend farmer. He shall not leave you day or night, whether you are working or playing or sleeping. I named nine others and said, and these shall follow your thralls in the same way. So I set guards over every one in that house," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 11522.8, "words": 823, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "At another time Harald asked, What is your country, Olaf? Have you always been a thrall? The thrall's eyes flashed. There far off is my country across the water. My father was Gudbrand the Big. Two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle. Ten sons sat at meet with him, and I was the youngest. One day he said, You are all grown to be men, and there is not elbow room here for so many chiefs. The eldest of you shall have my farm when I die. The rest of you off a Viking. He had three ships these he gave to three of my brothers. But I stayed that spring and built me a boat. I made her for only twenty oars, because I thought few men would follow me, for I was young, fifteen years old. But I made her in the likeness of a dragon. At the prow I carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out. I painted the eyes red for anger. There, stand so I said, and glare and hiss at my foes, and In the stern I carved the tail up almost as high as the head. There I put the pilot seat and a strong tiller for the rudder. On the breast and sides I carved the dragon's scales. There she sat on the rollers as fair a ship as I ever saw. This is my vow I will sail to Norway, and I will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches. Then I will get me a farm and will winter in that land. Now who will follow me? He is but a boy, the man said. Thirty men, one after another, raised their horns and said, On the next morning we got into my dragon and started. I sat high in the pilot's seat. As our boat flashed down the rollers into the water, I made this song and sang it. The dragon runs, where will she steer, where swords will sing, where spears will bite, where I shall laugh. So we harried the coast of Norway. We ate at many men's tables uninvited. Many men we found overburdened with gold. Then I said, My dragon's belly is never full, and on board went the gold. Oh, it is better to live on the sea and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals. A house smells of smoke, a ship smells of frolic. From a house you see a sooty roof. From a ship you see Valhalla. Up and down the water we went, to get much wealth and much frolic. What of the farm, Olaf? Not yet, I answered. Viking is better for summer. It was so dark that I could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth. I stood with my back to the wall, for I wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me. Now start up the fire, I said. come, I called, when no one obeyed. A fire. My men laughed. Yes, a stingy host. He acts as though he had not expected us. But now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood. On a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together. Ho, thralls, I called to them, bring in the table, we are hungry. What man wants to spend the winter with no guests? The thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat. They set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it, and we sat and watched it boil while we joked. At last the supper began. The farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat, and you cannot wonder, for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths. You would not eat with us, you cannot say no to half of my ale. I drink this to your health. Then I drank half of the hornful, and set the rest across the fire to the farmer. He took it and smiled, saying, I thought that all this night's work would be my death. Oh, do not fear that, I laughed, for a dead man sets no tables. So we drank and all grew merrier. At last I stood up and said, Come, they cried, Thank him for that, farmer. Did you ever have such a lordly guest before? I went on, so I will give out this law, that my men shall never leave you alone. Hawk and there shall be your constant companion, friend farmer, he shall not leave you day or night, whether you were working or playing or sleeping. I named nine others and said, and these shall follow your thralls in the same way. So I set guards over every one in that house, and" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 8651.5, "words": 810, "errors": 25, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "My spirits sank as I looked round me. Supper time was still an event in the future. I lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what I firmly believed to have been the first French novel ever produced at Morwick Farm. It was one of the masterly and charming stories of Dumas the Elder. In five minutes I was in a new world, and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest French company. The sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell recalled me in due time to the regions of reality. I looked at my watch, nine o'clock. Ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper room. Mr Meadowcroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table. On his right hand side sat his sad and silent daughter. She signed to me with a ghostly solemnity to take the vacant place on the left of her father. The door opened again while I was still studying the two brothers, without, I honestly confess, being very favorably impressed by either of them. A new member of the family circle, who instantly attracted my attention, entered the room. A little cracked, that, in the popular phrase, was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper room. Mr Meadacroft the elder, having not spoken one word thus far, himself introduced the newcomer to me, with a side glance at his sons, which had something like defiance in it, a glance which, as I was sorry to notice, was returned with the defiance on their side by the two young men. Philip Lefranc, this is my overlooker, Mr Yago, said the old man, formally presenting us. He is not well. He has come over the ocean for rest, and change of scene. Mr Yago is an American, Philip. I hope you have no prejudice against Americans. Make acquaintance with mister Yago. Sit together. They pointedly drew back from John Yago as he approached the empty chair next to me and moved round to the opposite side of the table. Was the young lady Naomi Colbrook? I looked at Ambrose and saw the answer in his face. Naomi Colbrook at last. A pretty girl, and so far as I could judge by appearances, a good girl too. Describing her generally, I may say that she had a small head, well carried and well set on her shoulders, bright grey eyes that looked at you honestly and meant what they looked, a trim, slight little figure, too slight for our English notions of beauty, a strong American accent, and, a rare thing in America, a pleasantly toned voice, which made the accent agreeable to English ears. Our first impressions of people are, in nine cases out of ten, the right impressions. For once in a way I proved a true prophet. Ambrose made room for Naomi to sit between his brother and himself. The only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between Naomi and me. He looked up at Naomi doubtingly from his plate and looked down again slowly with a frown. When I addressed him, he answered constrainedly, by way of making my first evening at the farm all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger, I discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other, through Mr Yago and through me. Every time she took a prominent part in this way in keeping the peace, melancholy Miss Meadacroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference. A more dreary and more disunited family party I never sat at the table with. Envy, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness are never so essentially detestable to my mind as when they are animated by the sense of propriety and work under the surface. But for my interest in Naomi and my other interest in the little love looks which I now and then surprised passing between her and Ambrose, I should never have sat through that supper. I wish you good night. She laid her bony hands on the back of Mr Meadacroft's invalid chair, cut him short in his farewell salutation to me, and wheeled him out to his bed as if she were wheeling him out to his grave. Do you go to your room immediately, sir? If not, may I offer you a cigar, provided the young gentleman will permit it? So picking his words with painful deliberation, and pointing his reference to the young gentleman, with one sardonic side look at them, Mr John Yago performed the duties of hospitality on his side. I excused myself from accepting the cigar. You were quite right to say no, Ambrose began. Never smoke with John Iago. His cigars will poison you." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 11910.7, "words": 810, "errors": 26, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 4, "text": "My spirits sank as I looked round me. Supper time was still an event in the future. I lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what I firmly believed to have been the first French novel ever produced at Morwick Farm. It was one of the masterly and charming stories of Dumas the Elder. In five minutes I was in a new world, and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest French company. The sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell recalled me in due time to the regions of reality. I looked at my watch. nine o'clock. Ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper room. mister Meadowcroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table. On his right hand side sat his sad and silent daughter, She signed to me with a ghostly solemnity to take the vacant place on the left of her father. The door opened again while I was still studying the two brothers, without, I honestly confess, being very favorably impressed by either of them. A new member of the family circle, who instantly attracted my attention, entered the room. A little cracked, the case of the That, in the popular phrase, was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper room. Mr Meadacroft the elder, having not spoken one word thus far, himself introduced the newcomer to me, with a side glance at his sons, which had something like defiance in it, a glance which, as I was sorry to notice, was returned with the defiance on their side by the Two young men. Philip Lefranc, this is my overlooker, Mr Yago, said the old man, formally presenting us. He is not well. He has come over the ocean for rest and change of scene. Mr Yago is an American, Philip. I hope you have no prejudice against Americans. Make acquaintance with mister Yago. Sit together. They pointedly drew back from John Yago as he approached the empty chair next to me, and moved round to the opposite side of the table. Was the young lady Naomi Colbrook? I looked at Ambrose and saw the answer in his face. Naomi Colbrook at last. A pretty girl, and so far as I could judge by appearances, a good girl too. Describing her generally, I may say that she had a small head, well carried and well set on her shoulders, bright grey eyes that looked at you honestly and meant what they looked. A trim, slight little figure too slight for our English notions of beauty, a strong American accent, and, a rare thing in America, a pleasantly toned voice which made the accent agreeable to English ears. Our first impressions of people are, in nine cases out of ten, the right impressions. For once in a way I proved a true prophet. Ambrose made room for Naomi to sit between his brother and himself. The only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between Naomi and me He looked up at Naomi doubtingly from his plate, and looked down again slowly with a frown. When I addressed him he answered constrainedly. By way of making my first evening at the farm all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger, I discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other, through Mr Yago and through me Every time she took a prominent part in this way in keeping the peace, melancholy Miss Meadowcroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference. A more dreary and more disunited family party I never sat at the table with. Envy, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness are never so essentially detestable to my mind as when they are animated by the sense of propriety and work under the surface. But for my interest in Naomi and my other interest in the little love looks which I now and then surprised passing between her and Ambrose, I should never have sat through that supper. I wish you good night. She laid her bony hands on the back of mister Meadacroft's invalid chair, cut him short in his farewell salutation to me, and wheeled him out to his bed as if she were wheeling him out to his grave. Do you go to your room immediately, sir? If not, may I offer you a cigar, provided the young gentleman will permit it? So picking his words with painful deliberation, and pointing his reference to the young gentleman with one sardonic side look at them, Mr John Yago performed the duties of hospitality on his side. I excused myself from accepting the cigar You were quite right to say no, Ambrose began. Never smoke with John Iago. His cigars will poison you." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 8561.7, "words": 670, "errors": 25, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Eleven o'clock had struck. It was a fine, clear night, there were the only persons on the road, and they sauntered leisurely along, to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation provided for the Toledans in the valley or on the banks of their river. Secure, as he thought, in the careful administration of justice in that city, and the character of its well disposed inhabitants, the good Hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family. This young cavalier, whose real name we shall for good reasons, conceal under that of Rudolfo, was abroad that night with four of his companions, in supporting young roysters like himself, and happened to be coming down a hill as the old Hidalgo and his family were ascending it. The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rudolfo and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter, and the servant maid. The old Hidalgo indignantly remonstrated. They answered him with mocks and jeers and passed on. But Rudolfo had been struck by the great beauty of Leocadia, the Hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards. In a moment he communicated his thoughts to his companions, and in the next moment they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please Rudolfo. For the rich, who are open handed always find parasites ready to encourage their bad propensities, and thus to conceive this wicked design, to communicate it, approve it, resolve on ravishing Leocadia, and to carry that design into effect was the work of a moment. They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. Her father shouted, her mother shrieked, her little brother cried, the servant maid tore her own face and hair, but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded, the wailing moved no pity, the clawing and scratching was of no avail, for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot, the silence of the night and the cruel hearts of the ravishers. Finally the one party went off exulting, and the other was left in desolation and waste. Rudolfo arrived at his own house without any impediment, and Leocadia's parents reached theirs, heartbroken and despairing. Meanwhile Rudolfo had Leocadia safe in his custody. and in his own apartment. When Leocadia fainted in his arms, he had bandaged her eyes in order that she might not notice the streets through which he passed, or the house into which he took her, and before she recovered her senses, he affected his guilty purpose. Apathy and disgust commonly follow satiated lust. Rudolfo was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was. Who touches me? Am I in bed? Mother, dear father, do you hear me? Alas, too well I perceive that you cannot hear me, and that I am in the hands of enemies, whoever thou art, she exclaimed, suddenly, seizing Rudolfo's hand, if thy soul is capable of pity, grant me one prayer. Having deprived me of honor, now deprive me of life. Let me not survive my disgrace. In mercy, kill me this moment. It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me. Confused by the vehemence of her reproaches, Rudolfo knew not what to say or do, and answered not a word. This silence so astonished Leucadia that she began to fancy she was dreaming, or haunted by a phantom. But the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood. This is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong. But it is the greatest which I can ask, or you can grant me," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 11835.9, "words": 670, "errors": 22, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Eleven o'clock had struck. It was a fine, clear night, there were the only persons on the road, and they sauntered leisurely along, to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation provided for the Toledans in the valley or on the banks of their river Secure, as he thought, in the careful administration of justice in that city, and the character of its well disposed inhabitants, the good Hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family. This young cavalier, whose real name we shall, for good reasons, conceal under that of Rudolfo, was abroad that night with four of his companions, insolent young roysters like himself, and happened to be coming down a hill as the old Hidalgo and his family were ascending it The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rudolfo and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter, and the servant maid. The old Hidalgo indignantly remonstrated. They answered him with mocks and jeers and passed on. But Rudolfo had been struck by the great beauty of Leocadia, the Hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards In a moment he communicated his thoughts to his companions, and in the next moment they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please Rudolfo. For the rich, who are open handed, always find parasites ready to encourage their bad propensities And thus to conceive this wicked design, to communicate it, approve it, resolve on ravishing Leocadia, and to carry that design into effect was the work of a moment. They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back, and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. Her father shouted, her mother shrieked, her little brother cried, the servant maid tore her own face and hair, but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded, the wailing moved no pity, the clawing and scratching was of no avail, for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot the silence of the night and the cruel hearts of the ravishers. Finally the one party went off exulting, and the other was left in desolation and woe. Rodolfo arrived at his own house without any impediment, and Leocadia's parents reached theirs heartbroken and despairing Meanwhile Rudolfo had Leocadia safe in his custody, and in his own apartment. While Leocadia fainted in his arms, he had bandaged her eyes in order that she might not notice the streets through which he passed, or the house into which he took her, and before she recovered her senses he effected his guilty purpose Apathy and disgust commonly follow satiated lust. Rudolfo was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was. Who touches me? Am I in bed? Mother, dear father, do you hear me At last too well I perceive that you cannot hear me, and that I am in the hands of enemies, whoever thou art, she exclaimed, suddenly, seizing Rudolfo's hand, if thy soul is capable of pity, grant me one prayer. Having deprived me of honour, now deprive me of life, let me not survive my disgrace. In mercy kill me this moment. It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me. Confused by the vehemence of her reproaches, Rudolfo knew not what to say or do, and answered not a word. This silence so astonished Leucadia that she began to fancy she was dreaming, or haunted by a phantom. But the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood. This is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong. But it is the greatest which I can ask, or you can grant me," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 8038.9, "words": 562, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER ten The Ace of Hearts Who should I find in the drawing room, talking fluently and smiling after his wont, to old Lady Chelford, who seemed to receive him very graciously, for her at least, but Captain Stanley Lake I can't quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure, standing among the Brandon household gods at this moment, communicated to me. I glanced round for Wilder, but he was not there. You know, Captain Lake, said Lord Shelford, addressing me, and Lake turned round upon me, a little abruptly, with his odd yellowish eyes, a little like those of the sea eagle, and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face, with a stern and insidious look, confronted me. The churchyard meteor expired. There was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition. You're surprised to see me here, he said in his very pleasing low tones. I lighted on him in the village, and I knew Miss Brandon would not forgive me if I allowed him to go away without coming here. He had his hand upon Lake's shoulder. They are cousins, you know. We are all cousins. I am bad at genealogies. My mother could tell us all about it. We, Brandons, Lakes, Wilders, and Chelford's. At this moment Miss Brandon entered with her brilliant cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark, it was a dazzling contrast. So Chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle. I thought of the fair Brunicende, with the captive knight in the hands of her Senechal before her, and I fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town, and brought him up for judgment. Whatever Lord Chelford said, Miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary smile. I wonder she did not smile oftener, it became her so. But her greeting to Captain Lake was more than usually haughty and frozen, and her features, I fancied, particularly proud and pale. It seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference, something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face. How was it that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them an influence of pain or disturbance wherever almost he looked. Shake hands with your cousin, my dear, said old Lady Chelford, peremptorily. The little scene took place close to her chair, and upon this stage direction, the little piece of by play took place, and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on. Young as he was, Stanley Lake was an old man of the world, not to be disconcerted, and and never saw more than exactly suited him. Waiting in the drawing room I had some entertaining talk with Miss Lake. Her conversation was lively and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life both good humoured and sarcastic, and had carried into her rustic sequestration the melancholy and precocious lore of her early London experience. When Lord Chelford joined us, I perceived that Wilder was in the room, and saw a very cordial greeting between him and Lake." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 11570.1, "words": 562, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER ten The Ace of Hearts Who should I find in the drawing room, talking fluently and smiling after his wont, to old Lady Chelford, who seemed to receive him very graciously, for her at least, but Captain Stanley Lake, I can't quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure, standing among the Brandon household gods at this moment, communicated to me. I glanced round for Wilder, but he was not there. You know, Captain Lake, said Lord Shelford, addressing me, and Lake turned round upon me. A little abruptly, his odd yellowish eyes, a little like those of the sea eagle, and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face, with a stern and insidious look, confronted me, and The churchyard meteor expired. There was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition. You're surprised to see me here, he said in his very pleasing low tones. I lighted on him in the village. and I knew Miss Brandon would not forgive me if I allowed him to go away without coming here. He had his hand upon Lake's shoulder. They are cousins, you know. We are all cousins. I am bad at genealogies. My mother could tell us all about it. We, Brandons, Lake's Wilders and Chelfords. At this moment Miss Brandon entered with her brilliant cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark it was a dazzling contrast. So Chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle. I thought of the fair Brunissende, with the captive knight in the hands of her Seneschal before her, and I fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town, and brought him up for judgment Whatever Lord Chelford said, Miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary smile. I wonder she did not smile oftener it became her so. But her greeting to Captain Lake was more than usually haughty and frozen, and her features, I fancied, particularly proud and pale. It seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference. something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face. How was it? that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them an influence of pain or disturbance wherever almost he looked. Shake hands with your cousin, my dear, said old Lady Chelford, peremptorily, The little scene took place close to her chair, and upon this stage direction the little piece of by play took place, and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on. Young as he was, Stanley Leake was an old man of the world, not to be disconcerted, and never saw more than exactly suited him. Waiting in the drawing room I had some entertaining talk with Miss Lake. Her conversation was lively and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life both good humoured and sarcastic. and had carried into her rustic sequestration the melancholy and precocious lore of her early London experience. When Lord Chelford joined us, I perceived that Wilder was in the room, and saw a very cordial greeting between him and Lake." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 8632.7, "words": 650, "errors": 17, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Lake declined the carriage to night. Her brother was to see her home, and there was a leave taking, and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed, after the manner of their kind. To Captain Lake, Miss Brandon's adieu were as cold and haughty as her greeting. Old women always like rascals. And he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by Miss Lake, much as he disliked Stanley. For Wilder followed them out with Lord Chelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes, and I found myself near Miss Brandon for the first time that evening, and much to my surprise she was first to speak, and that rather strangely. You seem to be very sensible, mister de Cresseron. Pray, tell me, frankly, what do you think of all this? I mean of the the family arrangements in which, as Mr Ralder's friend, you seem to take an interest, she said. There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. I think it a very wise measure, I replied, much surprised. Very wise, exactly. But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly. Do you really think your friend, Mr Wilder, cares about me? I take that for granted, in the nature of things it can hardly be otherwise, I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr Wilder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, Mr de Cresceron. And without awaiting my reply, she made some remark, which I forget, to Lady Chelford, who sat at a little distance, and, appearing quite absorbed in her new subject, she placed herself close beside the dowager, and continued to chat in a low tone. I was vexed with myself for having managed with so little skill a conversation which, opened so oddly and frankly, might have placed me on relations so nearly confidential with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime I had formed a new idea of her. She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness there was something almost contemptuous. By this time Lord Chelford and Wilder returned, and, disgusted rather with myself, I ruminated on my want of generalship. In the meantime, Miss Lake, with her hand on her brother's arm, was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath which, through wild copes and broken clumps near the park, emerges upon the still darker road which passes along the wooded glen by the mills and skirts the little paling of the recluse lady's garden. They had not walked far when Lake suddenly said, and he made a little dip of his cane towards Brandon Hall, over his shoulder, I don't think they pretend to like one another. It is quite understood. It was all, you know, old Lady Chelford's arrangement, and Dorcas is so supine, I believe she would allow herself to be given away by anyone and to anyone, rather than be at the least trouble. She provokes me. But I thought she liked Sir Harry Bracton. He's a good looking fellow, and Queen's Bracton is a very nice thing, you know. Yes, so they said, but that would, I think, have been worse. Something may be made of Mark Wilder. He has some sense and caution, has not he? But Sir Harry is wickedness itself. Why, what has Sir Harry done? That is the way you women run away with things. If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he is Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow, I can assure you." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 11443.5, "words": 650, "errors": 18, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Lake declined the carriage to night. Her brother was to see her home, and there was a leave taking, and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed, after the manner of their kind. To Captain Lake, Miss Brandian's Adieu were as cold and haughty as her greeting. Old women always like rascals. And he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by Miss Lake, much as he disliked Stanley. For Wilder followed them out with Lord Chelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes, and I found myself near Miss Brandon for the first time that evening, and much to my surprise she was first to speak, and that rather strangely. You seem to be very sensible, Mr de Cresseron. Pray, tell me, frankly, what do you think of all this? I mean of the the family arrangements in which, as Mr Ralder's friend, you seem to take an interest, she said. There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. I think it a very wise measure, I replied, much surprised. Very wise exactly. But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly? Do you really think your friend, Mr Wilder, cares about me? I take that for granted in the nature of things it can hardly be otherwise, I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr Wilder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, mister de Crescerau. And without awaiting my reply, she made some remark, which I forget, to Lady Chelford, who sat at a little distance, and, appearing quite absorbed in her new subject, she placed herself close beside the dowager and continued to chat in a low tone. I was vexed with myself for having managed with so little skill a conversation which, opened so oddly and frankly, might have placed me on relations so nearly confidential with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime I had formed a new idea of her. She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness there was something almost contemptuous. By this time Lord Chelford and Wilder returned, and, disgusted rather with myself, I ruminated on my want of generalship. In the meantime, Miss Lake, with her hand on her brother's arm, was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath which, through wild copes and broken clumps near the park, emerges upon the still darker road which passes along the wooded glen by the mills and skirts the little paling of the recluse lady's garden. They had not walked far when Lake suddenly said And he made a little dip of his cane towards Brandon Hall, over his shoulder. I don't think they pretend to like one another. It is quite understood. It was all, you know, old Lady Chelford's arrangement, and Dorcas is so supine. I believe she would allow herself to be given away by anyone. and to anyone, rather than be at the least trouble. She provokes me. But I thought she liked Sir Harry Bracton. He's a good looking fellow, and Queen's Bracton is a very nice thing, you know. Yes, so they said, but that would, I think, have been worse. something may be made of Mark Wilder. He has some sense and caution, has not he? But Sir Harry is wickedness itself. Why, what has Sir Harry done? That is the way you women run away with things. If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he is Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow, I can assure you." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 8625.8, "words": 626, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's farm, inquired this grand and beautiful young lady. Well, she was better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down, and would be very happy to see Miss Brandon if she would step into the drawing room. Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it. I suppose she was glad, and took this way of showing it, and tall, beautiful, graceful, in rustling silks, she glided into the tiny drawing room silently, and sat down softly by the window, looking out upon the flowers and the falling leaves, mottled in light and shadow. So there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies. The small door opened, and Rachel entered, with her hand extended and a pale smile of welcome. Women can hide their pain better than we men, and bear it better too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel Lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile. She was sanguine, she was genial and companionable, and her spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face. This This transient spring and lighting up are beautiful, a glamour beguiling our senses. It wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment, and leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild, forgetful frolic. Rachel, dear, I'm so glad to see you, said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice. There was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner, which was new to Rachel, and comforting, and she returned the greeting as kindly and felt more like her former self. You have been more ill than I thought, darling, and you are still far from quite recovered. Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise. I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be, that is, quite well, answered Rachel. You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often. They sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand. Maybe, Rachel, dear, you would like to drive a little? No, darling, not yet. It is very good of you. You have been so ill, my poor Rachel. Ill and troubled, dear, troubled in mind and miserably nervous. Poor Rachel, her nature recoiled from deceit, and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared. Dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave enquiry, and then Miss Brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet, and was thinking a little sternly maybe, and with a look of pain, still holding Rachel's hand, she said, with a sad sort of reproach in her tone. Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret. No, indeed, Dorcas, never, and never will, and I think, though I have learned to fear death, I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it. She spoke with a sudden energy which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek and made her languid eyes flash. Thank you, Rachel, my cousin, Rachel, my only friend, I ought not to have doubted you, and she kissed her again. Chelford had a note from Mr. Wilder this morning, another note, his coming delayed, and something of his having to see some person who is abroad, continued Dorcas, after a little pause." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 11542.4, "words": 626, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's farm. inquired this grand and beautiful young lady. Well she was better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down, and would be very happy to see Miss Brandon if she would step into the drawing room Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it. I suppose she was glad and took this way of showing it, and tall, beautiful, graceful, in rustling silks, she glided into the tiny drawing room silently, and sat down softly by the window, looking out upon the flowers and the fallen leaves, mottled in light and shadow. So there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies. The small door opened, and Rachel entered, with her hand extended and a pale smile of welcome. Women can hide their pain better than we men, and bear it better too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel Lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile. She was sanguine, she was genial and companionable, and our spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face. This transient spring and lighting up are beautiful, a glamour beguiling our senses. It wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment. and leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild, forgetful frolic. Rachel, dear, I'm so glad to see you, said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice. There was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner, which was new to Rachel, and comforting, and she returned the greeting as kindly and felt more like her former self. You have been more ill than I thought, darling, and you are still far from quite recovered. Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise. I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be, That is quite well, answered Rachel. You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often. They sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand. Maybe, Rachel, dear, you would like to drive a little? No, darling, not yet. It is very good of you. You have been so ill, my poor Rachel, ill and troubled, dear, troubled in mind and miserably nervous. Poor Rachel, her nature recoiled from deceit, and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared. Dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave enquiry, and then Miss Brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet, and was thinking a little sternly, maybe, and with a look of pain, still holding Rachel's hand, she said, with a sad sort of reproach in her tone. Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret. No, indeed, Dorcas, never, and never will, and I think, though I have learned to fear death, I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it. She spoke with a sudden energy which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek and made her languid eyes flash. Thank you, Rachel, my cousin, Rachel, my only friend, I ought not to have doubted you, and she kissed her again Chelford had a note from mister Wilder this morning, another note, his coming delayed, and something of his having to see some person who is abroad, continued Dorcas, after a little pause." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 8864.8, "words": 703, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Robin started back angrily and faced the squire. He began a confused complaint against the wizard, who had vanished behind the curtain on the left. Master Montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently. Give not so earnest a mind to these mummies, child, 'twas all a trick. What did you see? A golden fortune and a happy life? He was like unto my father in a way, and yet was not my father. Also there was a stripling page who turned into a maid. Very beautiful she was, and I would know her again in any guise. Ah, Master Robin, have you eyes for the maids already? This was so sweet a lady, sir, and in some manner I do think she died, and the man shot an arrow, meaning me to see where it fell, since there would be her grave. That is what I think he meant. But then the picture was gone as quickly as it came. Sister Nell, do you hear these marvels? Take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you. These things are true that the glass mirror shows, lording, answered the wizard, reappearing. The crystal cannot lie. He spoke unwittingly in a natural key. Robin turned round upon him very shrewdly. 'Friend wizard, ' said the youth, half at random, 'have you ever played at archery in that greenwood which your glass showed us so prettily?' 'Like as not, young master, though I am an old man. Remember that the crystal cannot lie. It tells me now that you and I will meet in rivalry to shoot together for a strange prize, the freedom of Sherwood. The wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass. What would you do? he whispered fiercely. Keep your secret, for I will not betray you. At this moment there uprose without the booth a most deafening tumult. Forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss, but Master Will, who peeped out first, needed no more than one glance. He gave way to the others very readily and retreated unperceived by the squire and Mistress Fitzooth to the rear of the tent. Cries of a Nottingham, a Nottingham rent the air and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings. As the squire and Robin looked forth they beheld a flying crowd of men and women all running and shouting. Before them fled the stroller and his three sons, capless and terrified. The old man's triangle had been torn from him, and was being jangled now by Nottingham fingers. There is trouble before us. Come, Robin, said Montfichet as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels. What is the tumult and rioting? cried out the squire authoritatively, and he blew twice on the silver whistle which hung at his belt. The strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemies resolutely when they had gained his side. They were out of breath, and their story was a confused one. The little tumbler recovered first. Nay, we refused their request most politely, most noble, said the little stroller, and then they became vexed and would have snatched your purse from us. I could not see my boy injured, Excellence, for but doing his duty as one of Cumberland's sons, so I did push this fellow. It is enough, said George Gamewell sharply, as he turned upon the crowd. Shame on you, citizens, cried he. I blush for my fellows of Nottingham. Is this how you play an English game? To force your rivals to lose to you any way? Cumberland has won my purse. The test was fairly set, and fairly were we conquered. Surely we can submit with good grace. 'Tis fine for you to talk, old man, answered the lean, sullen apprentice, but I wrestled with this fellow, and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout, spoke the squire, losing all patience. And it was to you that I gave another person consolation. Go your ways ere I cause you to be more soundly whipped than your desserts, which should bring heavy enough punishment for sure." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 11784.5, "words": 703, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Robin started back angrily and faced the squire. He began a confused complaint against the wizard, who had vanished behind the curtain on the left. Master Montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently. give not so earnest a mind to these mummies, child, 'twas all a trick. What did you see? A golden fortune and a happy life? He was like unto my father in a way, and yet was not my father. Also there was a stripling page who turned into a maid. Very beautiful she was, and I would know her again in any guise. Ah, Master Robin, have you eyes for the maids already? This was so sweet a lady, sir, and in some manner I do think she died, and the man shot an arrow, meaning me to see where it fell, since there would be her grave. That is what I think he meant. But then the picture was gone as quickly as it came. Sister Nell, do you hear these marvels? Take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you. These things are true that the glass mirror shows, lording, answered the wizard, reappearing. The crystal cannot lie. He spoke unwittingly in a natural key. Robin turned round upon him very shrewdly. Friend wizard, said the youth, half at random, have you ever played at archery in that greenwood which your glass showed us so prettily? Like as not, young master, Though I am an old man. Remember that the crystal cannot lie. It tells me now that you and I will meet in rivalry to shoot together for a strange prize, the freedom of Sherwood. The wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass. What would you do? he whispered fiercely. Keep your secret, for I will not betray you. At this moment there uprose without the booth a most deafening tumult. Forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss, but Master Will, who peeped out first, needed no more than one glance. He gave way to the others very readily and retreated unperceived by the squire and Mistress Fitzooth to the rear of the tent. Cries of a Nottingham, a Nottingham rent the air and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings. As the squire and Robin looked forth they beheld a flying crowd of men and women, all running and shouting. Before them fled the stroller and his three sons, capless and terrified. The old man's triangle had been torn from him, and was being jangled now by Nottingham fingers. There is trouble before us. Come, Robin, said Montfichet, as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels. What is the tumult and rioting? cried out the squire authoritatively, and he blew twice on the silver whistle which hung at his belt. The strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemies resolutely when they had gained his side. They were out of breath, and their story was a confused one. The little tumbler recovered first. Nay, we refused their request most politely, most noble, said the little stroller, and then they became vexed and would have snatched your purse from us. I could not see my boy injured, Excellence, for but doing his duty as one of Cumberland's sons, so I did push this fellow. It is enough, said George Gamewell sharply, as he turned upon the crowd. Shame on you, citizens, cried he. I blush for my fellows of Nottingham. Is this how you play an English game? To force your rivals to lose to you any way? Cumberland has won my purse. The test was fairly set, and fairly were we conquered. Surely we can submit with good grace. 'Tis fine for you to talk, old man, ' answered the lean, sullen apprentice, but I wrestled with this fellow, and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout, spoke the squire, losing all patience. And it was to you that I gave another person consolation. Go your ways ere I cause you to be more soundly whipped than your deserts, which should bring heavy enough punishment for sure." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 8822.1, "words": 757, "errors": 22, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Young Fitzooth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire. There befell an anxious interview, Mistress Fitzooth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath. Robin was perplexed indeed. His ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he, as a true Montfichet, must adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell. Most of all Robin thought of his father. What would he counsel? Remain, Fitzooth, and fight your own way in the world, boy. That is what he might say. In the end Robin decided to sleep upon the matter. In any case he would not consent to rob Geoffrey of his inheritance, and he told old Gamewell this to his face. When I am gone, you can do what you will with the place, boy, the old man had answered. I have I have no son. But of course the fees and revenues will be yours, if, for a whim, you beggar yourself, I cannot stay you. But take it whilst I live, and wear Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoice by so brave a sight, for you will ne'er disgrace Ars Dutchin, I warrant me. Perchance 'tis Geoffrey's sole chance that you should wear the badge of Gamewell. I might choose to bequeath it elsewhere. The lad had checked him then. Never that, sir, he had said. Let Gamewell land be ruled forever by Gamewell's proper lord. I pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere I answer you. It is what I would suggest myself. Go to her. Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more than before. He went down to discuss with Warranton and Stutley the means by which they best could bring the horse in arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became evident that no one other than Warranton dare attempt it, for fear of betraying the son to his still angry father. Are you sure, Warranton, that you will perform this business right carefully? Robin asked, over and over again, until the old servant became vexed. I am part of the house of Montfichet, Lording, snapped Warranton at last, and it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against myself, as it were. Be sure that the horse and his trappings will be safely carried to my second master, Geoffrey, at the hour given. Do you keep the squire employed in talk, and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own, that you may hear him if he moves. So Robin and Will went back to the hall, and presently the squire's voice was heard through the arrows which covered the north entrance to the apartment. He was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall holding him by the arm. For a moment Robin and Will were unperceived, then the squire's bright, keen eyes discovered them. Now to bed, boy, cried he, dropping his detaining hold of the priest, 'tis late, and I go myself within a short space. Dismiss your squire, Robin, and bid me good een. An early sleeper maketh a sound man. Did I see you with Warranton, Robin Fitzooth? put in the clerk curiously. I would fain have some talk with him on the matter of Archery. I am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in Nottingham. As any in England, I would say, said Gaimwell proudly, that is, in his day, now that age is upon Warranton and his master, cunning in such matters is to seek. Yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come. Now kiss me, boy, and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to morrow. Good night, God keep thee, Robin. He seemed to take it for granted that Robin would, in the end, consent to become of the house of Gamewell. Already Squire George looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres, even as slowly did Warranton, the shrewd and faithful man at arms. Truth to tell, the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye. Young Fitzooth embraced his uncle and bade him good night with real affection. There was no chance to alter his sleeping room to one nearer to Gaimwell's chamber." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 10582.0, "words": 757, "errors": 18, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Young Fitzooth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire. There befell an anxious interview, Mistress Fitzooth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath. Robin was perplexed indeed. His ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he, as a true Montfichet, must adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell. Most of all Robin thought of his father. What would he counsel? Remain, Fitzooth, and fight your own way in the world, boy. that is what he might say. In the end Robin decided to sleep upon the matter. In any case he would not consent to rob Geoffrey of his inheritance, and he told old Gamewell this to his face. When I am gone, you can do what you will with the place, boy, the old man had answered. I have no son. But of course the fees and revenues will be yours, if, for a whim, you beggar yourself, I cannot stay you. But take it whilst I live, and wear Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight, for you will ne'er disgrace our duchin, I warrant me. Perchance 'tis Geoffrey's sole chance that you should wear the badge of Gamewell. I might choose to bequeath it elsewhere. The lad had checked him then. Never that, sir, he had said. Let Gamewell land be ruled for ever by Gaimwell's proper lord. I pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere I answer you. It is what I would suggest myself. Go to her. Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more than before. He went down to discuss with Warranton and Stutley the means by which they best could bring the horse in arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became evident that no one other than Warrington dare attempt it. for fear of betraying the son to his still angry father. Are you sure, Warranton, that you will perform this business right carefully? Robin asked over and over again, until the old servant became vexed. I am part of the house of Montfichet, Lording, snapped Warranton at last, and it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against myself, as it were. Be sure that the horse and his trappings will be safely carried to my second master, Geoffrey, at the hour given. Do you keep the squire employed in talk, and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own, that you may hear him if he moves. So Robin and Will went back to the hall, and presently the squire's voice was heard through the arrows which covered the north entrance to the apartment. He was in deep converse with the clerk, and entered the hall holding him by the arm. For a moment Robin and Will were unperceived, then the squire's bright, keen eyes discovered them. Now to bed, boy cried he, dropping his detaining hold of the priest, 'tis late, and I go myself within a short space. Dismiss your squire, Robin, and bid me good eaten. An early sleeper maketh a sound man. Did I see you with Warranton, Robin Fitzooth? put in the clerk curiously. I would fain have some talk with him on the matter of archery. I am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in Nottingham. As any in England, I would say, said Gaimwell proudly, that is, in his day, now that age is upon Warranton and his master, cunning in such matters is to seek. Yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come, and Now kiss me, boy, and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to morrow. Good night, God keep thee, Robin. He seemed to take it for granted that Robin would, in the end, consent to become of the house of Gamewell, Already Squire George looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres, even as slowly did Warranton, the shrewd and faithful man at arms. Truth to tell, the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye. Young Fitzooth embraced his uncle and bade him good night with real affection. There was no chance to alter his sleeping room to one nearer to Gaimwell's chamber." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 8717.9, "words": 534, "errors": 11, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "Out in the woods stood a nice little fir tree. The place he had was a very good one. The sun shone on him. As to fresh air there was enough of that, and round him grew many large sized comrades, pines as well as firs, but the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown up tree. He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air. He did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and pratttled when they were in the woods looking for wild strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree and said, Oh, how pretty he is! What a nice little fur! But this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and after another year he was another long bit taller. For with fir trees one can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. Oh then would the birds build nests among my branches, and when there was a breeze I could bend with as much stateliness as the others. Neither the sunbeams nor the birds, nor the red clouds which morning and evening sailed above him gave the little tree any pleasure. In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would often come leaping along, and jump right up jump right over the little tree. Oh that made him so angry. But two winters were passed, and in the third the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it. To grow and grow, to get older and be tall, thought the tree. That, after all, is the most delightful thing in the world. In autumn the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees. This happened every year, and the young fir tree that had now grown to a very comely size trembled at the sight, for the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. They were hardly to be recognized. And then they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? What became of them? Have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you, for they lifted themselves on high most majestically. But how But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like? Rejoice in thy growth, said the sunbeams, rejoice in thy vigorous growth, and in the fresh life that moveth within thee. And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew wept tears over him, but the fir understood it not. These young trees, and they were always the finest looking, retained their branches. They were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. Where are they going to? asked the fir, asked the fir tree, trembling in every bough. And then what happens then? We did not see anything more. It was incomparably beautiful." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 10260.6, "words": 534, "errors": 4, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Out in the woods stood a nice little fir tree. The place he had was a very good one. The sun shone on him. As to fresh air there was enough of that. and round him grew many large sized comrades, pines as well as firs. But the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown up tree. he did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air. He did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods looking for wild strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree and said, Oh how pretty he is, what a nice little fir. But this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and after another year he was another long bit taller. For with fir trees one can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. Oh then would the birds build nests among my branches? And when there was a breeze I could bend with as much stateliness as the others. Neither the sunbeams nor the birds, nor the red clouds which morning and evening sailed above him gave the little tree any pleasure. In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would often come leaping along and jump right over the little tree. Oh, that made him so angry. But two winters were passed, and in the third the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it. To grow and grow, to get older and be tall, thought the tree. That, after all, is the most delightful thing in the world. In autumn the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees. This happened every year, and the young fir tree that had now grown to a very comely size trembled at the sight. for the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. they were hardly to be recognized. And then they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? what became of them? Have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you, for they lifted themselves on high most majestically. But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like? Rejoice in thy growth, said the sunbeams, rejoice in thy vigorous growth and in the fresh life that moveth within thee. and the wind kissed the tree, and the dew wept tears over him, but the fir understood it not. These young trees and they were always the finest looking, retained their branches. They were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. Where are they going to? asked the fir. asked the fir tree, trembling in every bough. And then what happens then? We did not see anything more. It was incomparably beautiful." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 8869.8, "words": 760, "errors": 49, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Kenneth and Beth refrained from telling the other girls or Uncle John of old Will Rogers' visit, but they got Mr Watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check. It was a serious crime indeed, Mr. Watson told them, and Tom Gates bade fare to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act. But it was a generous act, too, said Beth. I can't see it in that light, said the old lawyer. It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The squires's are a selfish, hard fisted lot, and the old lady especially, is a well known virago. But they could not have proven a case against Lucy, if she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff, so this boy was doubly foolish, in ruining himself to get sixty dollars to pay an unjust demand. He was soft hearted and impetuous, said Beth, and being in love he didn't stop to count the cost. Indeed, there's never an excuse for crime. The young man is guilty, and he must suffer the penalty. Is there no way to save him? asked Kenneth. If the prosecution were withdrawn, and the case settled with the victim of the forged check, then the young man would be allowed his freedom, but under the circumstances I doubt if such an arrangement could be made. We're going to try it anyhow, was the prompt decision. So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles. The boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time. Fairview was twelve miles away, but by ten o'clock they drew up at the county drail. They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer. He was around faced, respectable appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable. We wish to talk with him, answered Kenneth. Talk, what's the good? You're no friend of Tom Gates. I am Kenneth Forbes of Elmhurst. I'm running for representative on the Republican ticket, said Kenneth quietly. Oh, say, that's different, observed Markham, altering his demeanor. You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, Mr Forbes. I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerve something awful. Maybe see Gates at once? asked Kenneth. Surely, I'll take you to a cell myself. It's just shocking how much a little thing is stop and smoking will rile up a fellow. Come this way, please. They followed the jailer along a succession of passages. Sometimes I'm that yearnin for a smoke I'm nearly crazy, and I don't know which is worse, dying one way or the other. He unlocked the door and called Here's visitors, Tom. Thank you, Mr Markham, replied a quiet voice, as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. How are you feeling today? Worse, Tom, worse an error, replied the jailer gloomily. Well, stick it out, old man. Don't give in. I won't, Tom. Smoking will kill me sure, and there's a faint hope o' living through this struggle to give it up. This visitor is mister Forms of Elmhhurst, and the young lady is Mr Graff, said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically, as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it, will you leave us alone, please, Mr Markham? Sorry, we haven't any reception room in the jail. All visits has to be made in the cells. Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and Beth in with the forger and retreated along the passage. Sit down, please, said Gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice. There's a bench here. Why did you do it? asked Beth. He was silent and turned his face away. A fresh, wholesome looking boy was Tom Gates, with steady grey eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth. He was of sturdy, athletic build, and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material, but well brushed and cared for. Beth thought his appearance pleasing and manly. We have heard something of your story, said Kenneth, and are interested in it. Do you know Lucy, sir? asked the young man." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 11236.5, "words": 760, "errors": 45, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Kenneth and Beth refrained from telling the other girls or Uncle John of old Will Rogers' visit, but they got Mr Watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check. It was a serious crime indeed, Mr. Watson told them, and Tom Gates, bade fair to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act. But it was a generous act, too, said Beth. I can't see it in that light, said the old lawyer, It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The squires's are a selfish, hard fisted lot, and the old lady especially is a well known virago. But they could not have proven a case against Lucy, if she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff, so this boy was doubly foolish in ruining himself to get sixty dollars to pay an unjust demand. He was soft hearted and impetuous, said Beth, and being in love he didn't stop to count the cost. Indeed, there's never an excuse for crime. The young man is guilty, and he must suffer the penalty. Is there no way to save him? asked Kenneth. If the prosecution were withdrawn, and the case settled with the victim of the forged check, then the young man would be allowed his freedom, but under the circumstances I doubt if such an arrangement could be made. We're going to try it anyhow, was the prompt decision. So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles, the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time. Fairview was twelve miles away, but by ten o'clock they drew up at the county drail. They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer. He was a round faced, respectable appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable. We wish to talk with him, answered Kenneth. Talk. What's the good? You're no friend of Tom Gates. I am Kenneth Forbes of Elmhurst. I'm running for representative on the Republican ticket, said Kenneth quietly. Oh, say, that's different, observed Markham, altering his demeanor. You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, mister Forbes. I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerve something awful. Maybe see Gates at once? asked Kenneth. Surely. I'll take you to a cell myself. It's just shocking how much a little thing a stop and smokin' will rile up a fellow. Come this way, please. They followed the jailer along a succession of passages. Some Sometimes I'm that yearnin' for a smoke I'm nearly crazy, and I dunno which is worse. dying one way or the other. He unlocked the door and called, Here's visitors, Tom. Thank you, mister Markham, replied a quiet voice, as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. How are you feeling today? Worse, Tom, worse than error, replied the jailer gloomily. Well, stick it out, old man. Don't give in. I won't, Tom. Smoking will kill me sure, and there's a faint hope o' living through this struggle to give it up. This visitor is Mr Forms of Elbhurst, and the young lady is Mr Graff, said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it. Will you leave us alone, please, Mr. Markham? Sorry, we haven't any reception room in the jail. All visits has to be made into the cells. Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and Beth in with the forger and retreated along the passage. Sit down, please, said Gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice. There's a bench here. Why did you do it? asked Beth. He was silent and turned his face away. A fresh, wholesome looking boy was Tom Gates, with steady grey eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth. He was of sturdy, athletic build, and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material, but well brushed and cared for. Beth thought his appearance pleasing and manly. We have heard something of your story, said Kenneth, and are interested in it. Do you know Lucy, sir? asked the young man." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 8870.0, "words": 610, "errors": 25, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "CHAPTER twelve Beth Meets a Rebuff The campaign was now growing warm. Mr. Hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and that defeat met his political ruin. So So, to the surprise of the Democratic Committee and all his friends, Mr. Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes' aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness, and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary. He did not laugh at his opponent any longer. To himself he admitted their shrewdness and activity, and acknowledged that an experienced head was managing their affairs. One of Mr. Hopkins' first tasks, after calling his faithful henchmen around him was to make a careful canvas of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished. This canvas was quite satisfactory, for final reports showed only about a hundred majority for Forbes. But to offset this cheering condition, the Democratic agents who made the canvas reported that there was an There was an air of uncertainty throughout the district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm and faint hearted, and might easily be induced to change their votes. This was what must be prevented, the weak kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition. The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the Democratic strongholds of the state. The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties included in the 8th District were strongly Republican and being more populous gave to the district its natural Republican majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature was the candidate for sheriff of Monroe County. A man named Cummings was the Republican, and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the Democratic nominee. Under ordinary conditions, Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins. This trading votes, which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice and consented readily to the arrangement. Mr Cummings, who was to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself. But the honourable Erastus had no intention of taking chances or monkeying with fate, as he tersely expressed it. Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill, and this was why Kenneth and Beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mr Hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners. The description she gave of the coming reception to the women's Political League was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them, and thus mister Hopkins failed to notice who the occupants of the other vehicle were. Louise was making great preparations to entertain the Women's Political League, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 10998.6, "words": 610, "errors": 20, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER twelve Beth Meets A Rebuff The campaign was now growing warm. mister Hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and that defeat met his political ruin. So, to the surprise of the Democratic Committee and all his friends, mister Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes' aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness, and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary. He did not laugh at his opponent any longer. To himself he admitted their shrewdness and activity, and acknowledged that an experienced head was managing their affairs. One of Mr Hopkins' first tasks after calling his faithful henchmen around him was to make a careful canvas of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished. This canvas was quite satisfactory, for final reports showed only about a hundred majority for Forbes. But to offset this cheering condition, the Democratic agents who made the canvas reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm and faint hearted, and might easily be induced to change their votes. This was what must be prevented the weak kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition. The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the Democratic strongholds of the state. The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties included in the eighth district were as strongly Republican and being more populous gave to the district its natural Republican majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature was the candidate for sheriff of Monroe County. A man named Cummings was the Republican and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the Democratic nominee Under ordinary conditions, Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins. This trading votes, which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice and consented readily to the arrangement. Mr Cummings, who was to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself. But the honourable Erastus had no intention of taking chances, or monkeying with fate, as he tersely expressed it Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill, and this was why Kenneth and Beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mr Hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners, and The description she gave of the coming reception to the Women's Political League was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them, and thus Mr Hopkins failed to notice who the occupant of the other vehicle were. Louise was making great preparations to entertain the Women's Political League, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 8633.6, "words": 655, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travellers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French, in return, invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides she seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appeared an object of worship. The Queen Mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened for them. The Count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs. Baldily, I suppose. Yes, bodily. This has indeed been a harassing day, continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? You will be frank with me? I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent? I suspect. Because he is in love with Madame, is it not? One could almost swear to it to observe him. You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken, Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day. I can perceive love clearly enough. I am convinced of what I say, said the Count. Now inform me, Count, said Ralph, fixing a penetrating look upon him, what happened to render you so clear sighted? I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to night. It is annoyance, then. What annoyance? That of this evening the mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean? Yes, you are right, but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. Yes, certainly, but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice. What did you say to him? You think he loves her. You admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then. The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him, Count, replied Raoul, I will repeat to you, listen to me. In those very terms I even added more. How would you regard us? I said, if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? But, continued Rao, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, heaven be praised be praised the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. Thus, it is that the honour of three is saved, our country, our masters, and our own. It is thus that we act, your grace, it is thus that every man of honour ought to act. But now I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 11489.4, "words": 655, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travellers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French, in return, invited the English to a supper which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey, and From the respect paid her on all sides she seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appeared an object of worship. The Queen mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received, and where a brilliant future opened for them, The Count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs. Bodily, I suppose. Yes, bodily. This has indeed been a harassing day, continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? You will be frank with me? I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent? I suspect. Because he is in love with Madame, is it not? One could almost swear to it to observe him. You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken, Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day. I can perceive love clearly enough. I am convinced of what I say, said the Count. Now inform me, Count, said Ralph, fixing a penetrating look upon him, what happened to render you so clear sighted?? I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you to night. It is annoyance, then. What annoyance? That of this evening. The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean? Yes, you are right, but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. Yes, certainly, but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice. What did you say to him? You think he loves her, you admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then. The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him, Count, replied Raoul, I will repeat to you listen to me. In those very terms I even added more. How would you regard us, I said, if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? But, continued Raoult, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, heaven be praised the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved, our country, our masters, and our own. It is thus that we act, your grace, it is thus that every man of honour ought to act. But now I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 10109.2, "words": 687, "errors": 21, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Goliath makes another discovery. Oh, Cynthia, gasped Joy at length, isn't it too comical? We're just as far from it all as ever and they both fell to chuckling again. They were certainly no near the solution of their problem, for, facing the room once more the mysterious picture looked forth the portrait of two babies. They were plump, placid babies aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were twins, and evidently brother and sister, for one youngster's dress being a trifle severe in style indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree, and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. The poor little things, cried Cynthia, think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now what is the sense of it? Two innocent babies like that. But Joyce had not been listening. All at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion. I've got it, she announced. It came to me all of a sudden. Of course those babies were our twins, brother and sister. Anyone can tell that. Well, don't you see? One of them, the girl, was our lovely lady. The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now what have you to say, Cynthia Sprague? You must be right, admitted Cynthia. I thought we were stumped again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use after all. Do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing? All this while Cynthia had been standing, candle in one hand, and dustcloth than the other. At that point she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dustcloth. Presently she spoke. Joyce, do you think there would be any harm in my doing something I've longed to do ever since we first entered this house? What in the world is it? queried Joyce. Why, I want to dust this place, and clear out of the way some of the dirt and cobwebs, they were in me terribly, and besides, I'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it. Good scheme, Sin, cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. I'll tell you what, we'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything, I'm sure, for we won't disturb things at all, but let's go and finish our studying now and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon. Filled with fresh enthusiasm, the two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt, had been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair. Smuggling the house cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window unobserved that afternoon proved no easy task, for Cynthia had added a whisk broom and dustpan to the outfit, but a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed, till Goliath, basking on the veranda steps, spied it. The lure proved too much for him, and he came sporting after it as friskily as a young kitten, much to Cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him. Oh, let him come along, she urged. I do love to see him about that old house. He makes it sort of cosier. And so Goliath followed into the boarded up house." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 12966.6, "words": 687, "errors": 19, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Goliath makes another discovery. Oh, Cynthia, gasped Joy at length, isn't it too comical? We're just as far from it all as ever and they both fell to chuckling again. They were certainly no near the solution of their problem, for, facing the room once more, the mysterious picture looked forth, the portrait of two babies. They were plump, placid babies aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were. twins, and evidently brother and sister, for one youngster's dress being a trifle severe in style indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two Cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree, and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. The poor little things, cried Cynthia, think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now what is the sense of it? Two innocent babies like that. But Joyce had not been listening. All at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion. I've got it, she announced. It came to me all of a sudden. Of course those babies were our twins, brother and sister. Anyone can tell that. Well don't you see? One of them, the girl, was our lovely lady. The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now what have you to say? Cynthia Sprague? You must be right, admitted Cynthia. I thought we were stumped again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use after all. Do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing? All this while Cynthia had been standing, candle in one hand and dustcloth in the other. At that point she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dustcloth. Presently she spoke. Joyce, do you think there would be any harm in my doing something I have longed to do ever since we first entered this house? What in the world is it? queried Joyce. Why, I want to dust this place, and clear out of the way some of the dirt and cobwebs. They worry me terribly, and besides, I'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it. Good scheme, Sin cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. I'll tell you what, we'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything, I'm sure, for we won't disturb things at all. But let's go and finish our studying now, and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon. Filled with fresh enthusiasm, the two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt, had been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair. Smuggling the house cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window unobserved that afternoon proved no easy task, for Cynthia had added a whisk broom and dust pan to the outfit. But a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed, till Goliath, basking on the veranda steps, spied it. The lure proved too much for him, and he came sporting after it as friskily as a young kitten, much to Cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him, and the Oh, let him come along, she urged. I do love to see him about that old house. He makes it sort of cosier. And so Goliath followed into the boarded up house." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 10538.5, "words": 559, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "I suppose I must have gone on blindly for some time, for when I again became conscious I stood beside a river, while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead. Strange noises filled the air, sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me, which presently changed into hisses, until it seemed as if a thousand serpents were creeping all around me. The waters of the river looked black, while above me were weird, fantastic forms leaping in the stillness of the night. No words were spoken, no language was uttered save that of wailing and hissing, and that somehow was indistinct, as if it existed in fancy and not in reality. By and by, however, I heard a voice. Onward it said, and I became unconscious. Again I realized my existence in a vague, shadowy way. I stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple. Large grey lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great relief great religious system, but which was now terrible in its weird desolation. I watched eagerly, but they faded away, leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place. I heard a noise behind. I turned and saw Kafir, his black eyes shining, while in his hand he held a gleaming knife. He lifted it above his head as if to strike, but it had the strength of ten men, and I hurled him from me. He looked at me with a savage leer. Onward, said a distant voice. The temple vanished, and with it all my realization of life, save a vague fancy that I was moving somewhere, I knew not where. I stood by a well remembered spot. I was by the side of Drear water Pond. Around me was a stretch of common land, on which grew heather and firs. In front of me were noiseless waters, a dismal sight at the best of times, but but awful as I saw them, across the pond, in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees. No sound broke the stillness of the night. The wind had gone to rest. The moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds. I stood alone. Each minute my surroundings became more real, I recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit visit, while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness. The story of its evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition I wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said. What was that? The waters moved, distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from their dark depths something appeared. I could not at first tell what. What could it be? The ghost of some murdered man or woman? What then a human hand large and shapely appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond, nothing more, not even the wrist to which it might be attached, it did not beckon or indeed move at all, it was as still as the hand of death. I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand became more clear, then I gave an awful shudder. The hand was red. I gave a shriek and for a time remembered nothing more." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 11536.2, "words": 559, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "I suppose I must have gone on blindly for some time, for when I again became conscious I stood beside a river, while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead. Strange noises filled the air, and Sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me, which presently changed into hisses, until it seemed as if a thousand serpents were creeping all around me. The waters of the river looked black, while above me were weird, fantastic forms leaping in the stillness of the night. No words were spoken, no language was uttered, save that of wailing and hissing, and that somehow was indistinct, as if it existed in fancy and not in reality. By and by, however, I heard a voice. Onward it said, and I became unconscious. Again I realized my existence in a vague, shadowy way. I stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple. Large grey lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religious system, but which was now terrible in its weird desolation. I watched eagerly, but they faded away, leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place. I heard a noise behind. I turned and saw Caffer, his black eyes shining, while in his hand he held a gleaming knife. He lifted it above his head as if to strike, but I had the strength of ten men, and I hurled him from me. He looked at me with a savage leer. Onward said a distant voice. The temple vanished, and with it all my realization of life, save a vague fancy that I was moving somewhere, I knew not where. I stood by a well remembered spot. I was by the side of Drearwater Pond. Around me was a stretch of common land, on which grew heather and firs. In front of me were noiseless waters, a dismal sight at the best of times, but awful as I saw them, across the pond, in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees. No sound broke the stillness of the night. The wind had gone to rest, the moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds. I stood alone. Each minute my surroundings became more real, I recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit, while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness. The story of its evil influence came back to me, and in my bewildered condition I wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said. What was that? The waters moved, distinctly moved near to where I stood, and from their dark depths something appeared. I could not at first tell what. What could it be? The ghost of some murdered man or woman? What, then? a human hand, large and shapely, appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond. Nothing more, not even the wrist to which it might be attached. It did not beckon, or indeed move at all. It was as still as the hand of death. I stood motionless and watched, while the outline of the hand became more clear, then I gave an awful shudder. The hand was red. I gave a shriek and for a time remembered nothing more." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 8285.1, "words": 556, "errors": 26, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The three modes of management. To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in effecting such a substitution as that is entirely to mistake its nature and design. The only government of the parent over the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority, complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are one government by manoeuvring and artifice. Two by reason and affection. Three by authority. She brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth, and before the chase comes to the door, she sends Mary out into the garden with her sister, under pretense of showing her a bird's nest which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill in diverting the child's mind and amusing her with something else in the garden until the chase is gone. As the chase drives away, Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep, her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust, and suspicion of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor surge and swell among those delegate organizations on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend, doing perhaps an irreparable injury. The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement that she was going to the doctors, it may or may not have been true, most likely not. For mothers who manage their children on this system find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood so vague and ill defined that they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love Mama, I am sure, and wish to have her get well soon, so you will be a good girl, I know, and not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly, won't you? Then I shall love you, and your papa will love you, and after I get well, we will take you to ride with us someday. The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly on an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. Why can't you take me? asks Mary. I cannot tell you why now, replies the mother, but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason, and at any rate I have decided that you are not to go. If you are a good girl and do not make any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the front doorstep, and can see the chase come to the door, and see your father and me get in and drive away, and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a goodbye. Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission in Mary's countenance, the mother would add," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 11955.0, "words": 556, "errors": 23, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The three modes of management. To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in effecting such a substitution as that, is entirely to mistake its nature and design. The only government of the parent over the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority. complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are, one, government by manoeuvring and artifice. two by reason and affection. three by authority. She brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth, and before the chase comes to the door she sends Mary out into the garden with her sister under pretense of showing her a bird's nest which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill in diverting the child's mind and amusing her with something else in the garden until the chase is gone. As the chase drives away, Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep, her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust, and suspicion of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor surge and swell among those delicate organizations on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend, doing perhaps an irreparable injury. The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement that she was going to the doctors, it may or may not have been true, most likely not. For mothers who manage their children on this system find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood so vague and ill defined that that they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love mamma, I am sure, and wish to have her get well soon, so you will be a good girl, I know, and not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly, won't you? Then I shall love you, and your papa will love you. And after I get well we will take you to ride with us some day. The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly on an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. Why can't you take me? asks Mary. I cannot tell you why now, replies the mother, but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason, and at any rate I have decided that you are not to go. If you are a good girl and do not make any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the front doorstep, and can see the chase come to the door, and see your father and me get in and drive away, and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a goodbye. Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission in Mary's countenance, the mother would add" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 9317.0, "words": 612, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Della and the dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, the charge of young children without any absolute authority over them, or any means, or even any right, to enforce their commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sister referred to in the preceding illustrations. To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della Della had a young sister named Maria, and a cousin whose name was Jane. Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls. But being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it, and would listen with the utmost attention, and there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves. To give an idea of these conversations, I will report one of them in full. I am very glad to see you. How nice you look! You have come, Andella, Andella was the name of Jane's doll, to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it, and try to pull it away from one another. But one waits like a lady until the other has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Annella, since you were here last? Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone, Has she been a good girl, Jane? And you don't look very well now. You must take good care of yourself, and, if you don't feel well, you must ask your mother to bring you in to me, and I will give you a dose of my medicine, my aqua saccharina, a medium of reproof. Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. For instance, one day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlour. Delia came to the parlour, and with an air of great mystery, beckoned the children aside and said to them to them in a whisper, leave Andella and Rosalie here, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a secret, something I would not have them know on any account. So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. There, said she, pointing to the playthings, see? All your playthings left out. Put them away quick before Andella and Rosalie see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. They would think that they might do so too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 11572.0, "words": 612, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Della and the dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, The charge of young children without any absolute authority over them, or any means, or even any right to enforce their commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sister referred to in the preceding illustrations To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della Della had a young sister named Maria and a cousin whose name was Jane Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls, but being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it, and would listen with the utmost attention and there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves. To give an idea of these conversations, I will report one of them in full. I am very glad to see you. How nice you look. You have come Andella Andella was the name of Jane's doll, to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it, and try to pull it away from one another, but one waits like a lady until the other has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Andella, since you were here last. Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone Has she been a good girl, Jane? And you don't look very well now. You must take good care of yourself, and, if you don't feel well, you must ask your mother to bring you in to me, and I will give you a dose of my medicine. My aqua saccarina a medium of reproof. Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. For instance One day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlour. Delia came to the parlour, and with an air of great mystery, beckoned the children aside and said to them in a whisper. Leave Andella and Rosalie here, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a secret, something I would not have them know on any account. So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. There said she, pointing to the playthings, see? All your playthings left out. Put them away quick before Andella and Rosalie see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. they would think that they might do so too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 7438.8, "words": 435, "errors": 6, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "If, for example, he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, on a careful scrutiny, find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house, with which he was familiar in early life. Nature of the effect produced by early impressions. That is comparatively nothing. You have made a lifelong change, if not, in the very structure. at least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone, the nature and origin of general ideas. It is the same substantially in respect to all those abstract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man, and have and have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character. They are chiefly formed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood. Every story, therefore, which you relate to a child, to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness, takes its place, or rather, the impression which it makes, takes its place as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. Vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see on reflection how vast an influence on the ideas and conceptions, as well as on the principles of action in mature years, must be exerted by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind. Among other bearings of this thought, it gives great weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in the management and training of the young provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence, to which a father subjects his son may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain. Even the remembrance of it may at length fade from the mind, but there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression which you make upon his perceptive powers must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may, in some cases, be forever indelible. Let us then take care that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall, be sources of enjoyment for them in future years" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 9083.6, "words": 435, "errors": 4, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "If, for example, he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, on a careful scrutiny, find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house with which he was familiar in early life. Nature of the effect produced by early impressions. That is comparatively nothing. You have made a lifelong change, if not, in the very structure. at least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone. The nature and origin of general ideas. It is the same substantially. in respect to all those abstract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man. and have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character. They are chiefly formed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood, Every story, therefore, which you relate to a child, to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness, takes its place, or, rather, the impression which it makes, takes its place as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see on reflection how vast an influence on the ideas and conceptions, as well as on the principles of action in mature years, must be exerted by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind. Among other bearings of this thought. It gives great weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in the management and training of the young, provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence, to which a father subjects his son, may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain. Even the remembrance of it may at length fade from the mind But there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression which you make upon his perceptive powers must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may in some cases be forever indelible Let us then take care that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall be sources of enjoyment for them in future years." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 8877.7, "words": 584, "errors": 14, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody, seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking, and he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dear me, he said, if I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peatload. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peatloads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jack knife. He gazed and gazed at the cap, and could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jack knife to boot. Now, this knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked, and Anders knew that one is almost a man as soon as one has a jackknife. Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said goodbye to Lars with a nod. But Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap, which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman, and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball. Yes, why not? thought Anders. Seeing that I am so fine, I may as well go and visit the king. And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers with shining helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came both the muskets were levelled at him. Where may you be going? asked one of the soldiers. I am going to the court ball, answered Anders. Indeed you are not, said the other soldier, and put his foot forward. But just at this instant the princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk, with bows of ribbon. When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. Oh, she said, he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head that that will do just as well as a uniform. And she took Ander's hand and walked with him up the broad marble stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through the magnificent halls where courtiers in silk and velvet stood stood bowing wherever he went, for, like as not, they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap. At the farther end of the largest hall a table was set with golden cups and golden plates in long rows. On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side. But you must not eat with your cap on your head, she said, and was going to take it off" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 11512.7, "words": 584, "errors": 16, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody, seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking. And he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dear me, he said, if I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peatload. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peatloads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jack knife. He gazed and gazed at the cap. and could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jack knife to boot. Now, this knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked, and Anders knew that one is almost a man as soon as one has a jackknife. Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said goodbye to Lars with a nod. But Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap, which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman, and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball. Yes, why not? thought Anders. Seeing that I am so fine, I may as well go and visit the king. And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers with shining helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came both the muskets were levelled at him. Where may you be going? asked one of the soldiers. I am going to the court ball. answered Anders. Indeed you are not, said the other soldier, and put his foot forward. But just at this instant the princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk, with bows of ribbon When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. Oh, she said, he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head, that that will do just as well as a uniform. And she took Ander's hand and walked with him up the broad marble stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through the magnificent halls where courtiers in silk and velvet stood stood bowing wherever he went. For, like as not, they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap. At the farther end of the largest hall a table was set, with golden cups and golden plates in long rows On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a in a golden chair by her side But you must not eat with your cap on your head, she said, and was going to take it off." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 8545.7, "words": 623, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 4, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring, which was the result of so much imagination, and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court. As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise. Both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window. The pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters. The swans themselves, even, reposing, with folded wings, like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. Ah, very well. Let him come in, then, said the king, and as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of for the purpose of keeping himself accurant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers. Gentlemen, do your posts, whereupon Saint Aignon and Villeroy took their leave. Certainly, sire, but I must have money to do that. What? Sire, they were sent at the hour promised. Well? Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks have swallowed up four millions in eight days. Entirely? To the last penny. Every time your Majesty directed the banks of the Grand Canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins. What do you mean, inquired Luis. He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply. The king frowned. Colbert turned pale, and yet, he said, Your Majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle Isle arrived, for instance. In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed. Does your Majesty then no longer believe the disloyal attempt? My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur, and I have already told you I transact them without interference. Then I perceive, said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your Majesty. Not at all. You are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me. Yet, sire, said the minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Louisa's self esteem, what use is there in being agreeable to your Majesty if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion, and, believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your Majesty's plan, then, in this affair, is you will take them from my private treasure. The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau. It was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning. During its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 10785.8, "words": 623, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring. which was the result of so much imagination, and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court. As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. the king had resolved to make it surprise. Both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window. The pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters. The swans themselves, even, reposing, with folded wings, like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. Ah, very well. Let him come in, then, said the king, and as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself accurant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers. Gentlemen, do your posts whereupon Saint Aignon and Villeroy took their leave. Certainly, sire, but I must have money to do that. What? Sire, they were sent at the hour promised. Well Well, sire, the coloured lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks have swallowed up four millions in eight days. Entirely? To the last penny. Every time your Majesty directed the banks of the Grand Canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins. What do you mean? inquired Luis. He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply. The king frowned. Colbert turned pale, and yet he said, Your Majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle Isle arrived, for instance. In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed. Does your Majesty then no longer believe the disloyal attempt? My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur, and I have already told you I transact them without interference. Then I perceive, said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your Majesty. Not at all. You are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me. Yet, sire, said the Minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Louisa's self esteem. What use is there in being agreeable to your Majesty if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion, and, believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your Majesty's plan, then, in this affair, is you will take them from my private treasure, The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau. It was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. the news circulated with the rapidity of lightning. During its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 12725.3, "words": 578, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards Madame, for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardour and deeper passion, than others more advanced in years, but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigour. So that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipoise, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty at thirty years of age. Louise thought of Madame, but only after he had studiously thought of himself, and Madame carefully thought of herself without bestowing a single thought upon the king. Everyone could observe his agitation and prostration, a prostration which was, indeed, the more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him, with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head bewildered, and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed. All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. Upon this, Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the Comte, observing, The Comte's patience almost forsook him, as he continued, Your Royal Highness danced just now most charmingly. Do you think so? she replied, with indifference. Yes, the character which your Royal Highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own. Oh, there can be no doubt of it. Explain yourself? You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant. You mean Pomona, Comte? I allude to the goddess. Nay, madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed. With this remark, accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fibre of one's being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly, and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply Madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and, as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonéchalant and Mademoiselle de Montelet. Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said? the princess inquired. No No. And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, In the first place, he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly. She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fet by his annoyance, he fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces, and scattering, as he went along, the branches of vines, mulberry, and almond trees with all the other things other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards he returned to the theatre, but it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back, or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 11801.0, "words": 578, "errors": 11, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards Madame, for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardour and deeper passion, than others more advanced in years. But all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigour. So that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of equipoise, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty years of age. Louis thought of Madame, But only after he had studiously thought of himself, and Madame carefully thought of herself without bestowing a single thought upon the king. Everyone could observe his agitation and prostration, a prostration which was, indeed, The more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head bewildered, and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed. All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause Upon this, Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the Comte, observing, The Comte's patience almost forsook him, as he continued, Your Royal Highness danced just now most charmingly. Do you think so? she replied with indifference Yes, the character which your Royal Highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own. Oh, there can be no doubt of it. Explain yourself? You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, inconstant. You mean Pomona, Comte I allude to the goddess. Nay, madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed. With this remark, Accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fibre of one's being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his And his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply Madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and, as her ladies of honour had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonet Charant and Mademoiselle de Montalais. Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said? the princess inquired. No And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, In the first place, he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly. She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance the arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fete by his annoyance, he fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces, and scattering As he went along, the branches of vines, mulberry, and almond trees with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards he returned to the theatre. But it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back, or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart Madame was finishing her figure." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 9626.6, "words": 685, "errors": 21, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "It directly overhung a transparent amber brown shoot of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of North Fork Rapids. The strange mannered duck had no proper talons wherewith to grasp his perch, but his strong clawed webs held him steadily nonetheless as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent. Here where the North Fork stream fell into the Oda Nunsis was a resort exactly to his liking, and most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down either the fork or the parent river, chose to pass through that sleuth of swift but unbroken flow immediately beneath the overhanging branch on which he perched. For all the splendour of his plumage, the Meganser was not conspicuous where he sat. All about him was a tumult of bright and broken colour, scattered in broad splashes. The rapids were foam white or golden ruddy, or deep, shining green brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sewn thickly with wet black rocks, here and there glinting with purple. The mergantser had a crested head of iridescent green black, a broad collar of lustrous white, black back, black and white wings, white belly, sides finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich chestnut red streaked with black. His feet were red, his long, narrow beak, with its saw toothed edges and sharp hooked tip was bright red. In every line and hue he was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite, but for his powers, his beak, with its keen toothed edges, was a formidable weapon, by means of which he could doubtless have captured, disabled, and dragged ashore even a fish of a pound or so in weight, but here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles. He had no rending claws. But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface. A watcher directly overhead, escaping the baffling reflections, might have seen him swimming, head outstretched, mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes, fairly outspeeding the fish in their own element, near the limit of the clear water he overtook and seized the quarry which he had marked, a trout not far from seven inches in length, the saw toothed edges of his beak gripped it securely, and he rose with it to the surface just where the chute was breaking into a smother of trampled foam. With a furious flapping of wings he lifted himself almost clear of the flood and beat along the tossed surface, dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight. Once fairly a wing, however, he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch. Here he proceeded to swallow his prize head first. It was a long, difficult choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted, but a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and, after many an undignified paroxysm, he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fear fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green winged teal was beating his way above the treetops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart. A mighty flyer, his short, muscular wings drove him through the air at a speed not much less than ninety or a hundred miles an hour, but behind him, overtaking him inexorably, came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duck hawk," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 12480.3, "words": 685, "errors": 28, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "It directly overhung a transparent amber brown shoot of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of North Fork Rapids. The strange mannered duck had no proper talons wherewith to grasp his perch, but his strong clawed webs held him steadily nonetheless as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent. Here where the North Fork stream fell into the Odenuncis was a resort exactly to his liking, and most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down either the fork or the parent river chose to pass through that sleuth of swift but unbroken flow immediately beneath the overhanging branch of the river. on which he perched. For all the splendour of his plumage, the Meganser was not conspicuous where he sat. All about him was a tumult of bright and broken colour, scattered in broad splashes. The rapids were foam white, or golden ruddy, were deep, shining green brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sewn thickly with wet black rocks here and there glinting with purple. The mergantser had a crested head of iridescent green black, a broad collar of lustrous white, black back, black and white wings, white belly, sides finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich chestnut red streaked with black. His feet were red, his long, narrow beak, with its saw-toothed edges and sharp hooked tip was bright red. In every line and hue he was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite, but for his powers. His beak, with its keen toothed edges, was a formidable weapon, by means of which he could doubtless have captured, disabled, and dragged ashore even a fish of a pound or so in weight. But here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles. He had no rending claws. But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface. A watcher directly overhead, escaping the baffling reflections, might have seen him swimming, head outstretched, mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes, to Fairly outspeeding the fish in their own element, near the limit of the clear water he overtook and seized the quarry which he had marked, a trout not far from seven inches in length. The saw toothed edges of his beak gripped it securely, and he rose with it to the surface, just where the chute was breaking into a smother of trampled foam. With a furious flapping of wings he lifted himself almost clear of the flood and beat along the tossed surface, dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight. Once fairly awing, however, he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch. Here he proceeded to swallow his prize head first. It was a long, difficult choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted, but a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and after many an undignified paroxysm he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green winged teal was beating his way above the treetops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart. A mighty flyer, his short, muscular wings, drove him through the air at a speed not much less than ninety or a hundred miles an hour, but behind him Overtaking him inexorably came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duckhawk," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 8685.7, "words": 754, "errors": 17, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 9, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The successful player light is indeed a man to be envied. Leaving aside for the moment the question of supertax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly spelt on buses which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and West Norwood, and his name spelt incorrectly beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play. Actor managers nod to him, editors allow him to contribute without charge to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and, if he is not careful, somebody will say so. But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments. Now he says he is writing a play, and we look around the spacious glons and terraces and marvel at the run his last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs. Your play must be not merely a good play, but a success a successful one. How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say. How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you. But suppose you said, I'm fond of writing, my people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've I've got a little idea for a play about a man and a woman and another woman, and but perhaps I better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting, and I can do the dialogue all right. Suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, you have come to the right shop, lend me your ear for ten minutes, and you shall learn just what stagecraft is, and I should begin with a short homily on Soliloquy. If you ever read your Shakespeare, and no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, he may always pick up something in them which may be useful for his next play. If you If you ever read your Shakespeare, it is possible that you have come across this passage. Enter Hamlet, Ham, to be or not to be, and so on in the same vein for some thirty lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now, the object of this soliloquy is plain. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the nostrils, and exploring the lower molars with the tongue, by which it is possible to denote, respectively, surprise, defiance, and doubt. Indeed, irresolution being the keynote of Hamlet's soliloquy, a clever player could to some extent indicate the whole thirty lines by a silent working of the jaw, but at the same time it would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns to take only one line would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being. We moderns, however, see the absurdity of it, if it be granted first, that the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, and secondly, that soliloquy or the habit of thinking aloud is not is in opposition to modern stage technique, how shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, there are more ways than one, and now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, in this play we have been talking about, an easy way of avoiding Hamlet's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak first. Ham I am wondering whether to be or not to be, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer and so on, till you get to the end when Ophelia might say, Ah, yes, or something noncommittal of that sort. This would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying Hamlet's thoughts to the audience in rather a clever manner." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 12273.0, "words": 754, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The successful player light is indeed a man to be envied. Leaving aside for the moment the question of supertax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly spelt on buses which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and West Norwood, and his name spelt incorrectly, beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play. Actor managers nod to him, editors allow him to contribute, without charge, to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and, if he is not careful, somebody will say so. But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments. Now he says he is writing a play, and we look around the spacious glons and terraces and marvel at the run his last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs. Your play must be not merely a good play, but a successful one. How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say. How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you. But suppose you said, I'm fond of writing, my people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've got a little idea for a play about a man and a woman and another woman, and but perhaps I better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting and I can do the dialogue all right. Suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, you have come to the right shop. Lend me your ear for ten minutes, and you shall learn just what stagecraft is. And I should begin with a short homily on Soliloquy If you ever read your Shakespeare, and no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, he may always pick up something in them which may be useful for his next play. If you ever read your Shakespeare, it is possible that you have come across this passage. Enter Hamlet, ham, to be or not to be, and so on in the same vein for some thirty lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now, the object of this soliloquy is plain. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the nostrils, and exploring the lower molars with the tongue by which it is possible to denote, respectively, surprise, defiance and doubt. Indeed, irresolution being the keynote of Hamlet's soliloquy, a clever player could to some extent indicate the whole thirty lines by a silent working of the jaw. But at the same time it would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns to take only one line would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being. We moderns, however, see the absurdity of it, if it be granted, first, that the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, and secondly, that soliloquy, or the habit of thinking aloud, is in opposition to modern stage technique, how shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, there are more ways than one. And now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, in this play we have been talking about, an easy way of avoiding Hamlet's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak first. Ham. I am wondering whether to be or not to be, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer and so on, till you get to the end when Ophelia might say, Ah, yes, or something non committal of that sort. This would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying Hamlet's thoughts to the audience in rather a clever manner." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 8796.9, "words": 543, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Bogus legislature numbered thirty six members. This was at the March election, eighteen fifty five. That summer's emigration, however, being mainly from the free states, greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties. For general service, therefore, requiring no special effort, the numerical strength of the factions was about equal, while on extraordinary occasions the two thousand border ruffian reserve lying a little farther back from the state line could at any time easily turn the scale. The Free State men had only their convictions, their intelligence, their courage, and the moral support of the North. The conspiracy had its secret combination, the territorial officials, the legislature, the Bogus laws, the courts, the militia officers, the president, and the army. This was a formidable array of advantages. Slavery was playing with loaded dice. With such a radical opposition of sentiment Both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground, the bogus laws having been enacted and the Free State men having at the Big Springs Convention resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them to a bloody issue. The conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority. An opportunity for them, about this time Governor Shanod, appointed to succeed Reeder, arrived in the territory. Coming by way of the Missouri River towns, he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences and perhaps having his inclinations already molded by his Washington instructions, his early impressions were decidedly adverse to the Free State cause. His reception speech at Westport, in which he maintained the legality of the legislature, and his determination to enforce their laws, delighted his pro slavery auditors. All the territorial dignitaries were present. Governor Shannon presided. John Calhoun, the Surveyor General, made the principal speech, a denunciation of the abolitionists supporting the Topeka movement. Chief Justice Lecomp dignified the occasion with approving remarks All dissent, all noncompliance, all hesitation, all mere silence even, were in their stronghold towns, like Leavenworth, branded as abolitionism, declared to be hostility to the public welfare, and punished with proscription, personal violence, expulsion, and frequently death. Of the lynchings, the mobs, and the murders, it would be impossible, except in a very extended work to note the frequent and atrocious details, the present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the Civil War in Kansas, which happily are not sanguinary. If, however, the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described, they would show a startling aggregate of barbarity and a loss of life for opinion's sake. Some of these revolting crimes, though comparatively few in number, were committed, generally in the spirit of lawless retaliation, by Free State men. Several hundred Free State men promptly responded to the summons. The Free State Hotel served as barracks. It was, in fact, the best weapon of its day. The Free State volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the East, and their range, rapidity, and effectiveness had been not only duly set forth, but highly exaggerated by many marvelous stories throughout the territory and along the border. The leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 11233.5, "words": 543, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Bogus legislature numbered thirty six members. This was at the March election, eighteen fifty five. That summer's emigration, however, being mainly from the Free States, greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties. For general service, therefore, requiring no special effort, the numerical strength of the factions was about equal, while on extraordinary occasions the two thousand border ruffian reserve lying a little farther back from the state line could at any time easily turn the scale. The free state men had only their convictions, their intelligence, their courage, and the moral support of the North. had its secret combination, the territorial officials, the legislature, the Bogos laws, the courts, the militia officers, the President, and the army This was a formidable array of advantages. Slavery was playing with loaded dice. With such a radical opposition of sentiment, both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground. The bogus laws having been enacted, and the Free State men having, at the Big Springs convention, resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them to a bloody issue. The conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority. Opportunity for them, about this time Governor Shanid, appointed to succeed reader, arrived in the territory. Coming by way of the Missouri River towns, he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences, and perhaps having his inclinations already molded by his Washington instructions, his early impressions were decidedly adverse to the free state cause. His reception speech at Westport, in which he maintained the legality of the legislature, and his determination to enforce their laws, delighted his pro slavery auditors. All the territorial dignitaries were present. Governor Shannon presided, the John Calhoun, the Surveyor General, made the principal speech a denunciation of the abolitionists supporting the Topeka movement. Chief Justice Lecomte dignified the occasion with approving remarks. All dissent, all non compliance, all hesitation, all mere silence even, were in their stronghold towns, like Leavenworth, branded as abolitionism, but Declared to be hostility to the public welfare, and punished with proscription, personal violence, expulsion, and frequently death. Of the lynchings, the mobs, and the murders, it would be impossible, except in a very extended work to note the frequent and atrocious details The present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the Civil War in Kansas, which happily are not sanguinary. If, however, the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described, they would show a startling aggregate of barbarity and a loss of life for opinion's sake. Some of these revolting crimes, though comparatively few in number, were committed, generally in the spirit of lawless retaliation, by Free State men. Several hundred Free State men promptly responded to the summons. The Free State hotel served as barracks. It was, in fact, the best weapon of its day. The Free State volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the East, and their range, rapidity, and effectiveness had been not only duly set forth, but highly exaggerated by many marvelous stories throughout the territory and along the border. The leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 8321.4, "words": 465, "errors": 15, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "In the second insurrection a great military command was entrusted to him by the Covenanters, and he was the first that passed the tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of England. He found means, however, soon after to convey a letter to the king, and by the infidelity of some about that prince, Hamilton as was suspected, a copy of this letter was sent to Levin, the Scottish general, being accused of treachery and a correspondence with the enemy, Montrose openly avowed the letter and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign an enemy. And by this bold and magnanimous behaviour he he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution. As he was now fully known to be of the royal party, he no longer concealed his principles, and he endeavoured to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master's service. Though thrown into prison for this enterprise and detained some time, he was not he was not discouraged, but still continued by his countenance and protection to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists. Among other persons of distinction who united themselves to him was Lord Napier of Murchiston, son of the famous inventor of the logarithms, the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced. Being accused by Lord Ray, not without some appearance of probability of a conspiracy against the king. Charles was so far from harbouring suspicion against him that the very first time Hamilton came to court, he received him into his bed chamber, and passed alone the night with him, but such was the Duke's unhappy fate or conduct that he escaped not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign, and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service, his integrity and sincerity have not been thought by historians entirely free from blemish, while the former foretold that the Scottish covenanters were secretly forming a union with the English Parliament and and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking, the latter still insisted that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not perhaps inclined. Unhappily for the royal cause, Hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of Montreux, and the covenanters were allowed without interruption to proceed in all their hostile measures. Montrose then hastened to Oxford, where his invectives against Hamilton's treachery, concurring with the general prepossession and supported by the unfortunate event of his counsels, were entered with universal probation. His brother Lanerick, who was also put under confinement, found means to make his escape and to fly into Scotland." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 10621.2, "words": 465, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In the second insurrection a great military command was entrusted to him by the Covenanters, and he was the first that passed the tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of England. He found means, however, soon after to convey a letter to the king, and by the infidelity of some about that prince, Hamilton, as was suspected, a copy of this letter was sent to Levin, the Scottish general. Being accused of treachery and a correspondence with the enemy, Montreuse openly avowed the letter and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign an enemy. and by this bold and magnanimous behaviour he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution. As he was now fully known to be of the royal party, he no longer concealed his principles, and he endeavoured to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master's service. Though thrown into prison for this enterprise and detained some time, he was not discouraged, but still continued by his countenance and protection to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists. Among other persons of distinction who united themselves to him was Lord Napier of Murchiston, son of the famous inventor of the logarithms, the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced. being accused by Lord Ray, not without some appearance of probability of a conspiracy against the king, Charles was so far from harbouring suspicion against him that the very first time Hamilton came to court, he he received him into his bedchamber, and passed alone the night with him. But such was the Duke's unhappy fate or conduct that he escaped not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign, and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service, his integrity and sincerity have not been thought by historians entirely free from blemish. While the former foretold that the Scottish covenanters were secretly forming a union with the English Parliament, and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking The latter still insisted that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not perhaps inclined. Unhappily for the royal cause, Hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of Montreux, and the covenanters were allowed without interruption to proceed in all their hostile measures. Montrose then hastened to Oxford, where his invectives against Hamilton's treachery, concurring with the general prepossession and supported by the unfortunate event of his counsels, were entertained with universal probation. His brother Lanerick, who was also put under confinement, found means to make his escape and to fly into Scotland." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 8719.4, "words": 515, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "He rode before a portmanteau and called himself Ashburnham's servant. He passed through Henley, St Albans, and came so near to London as Harrow on the hill. He once entertained thoughts of entering into that city and of throwing himself on the mercy of the Parliament, but at last, after passing through many crossroads, he arrived at the Scottish camp before Newark. The Parliament, hearing of his escape from Oxford, issued rigorous orders and threatened with instant death whoever should harbour or conceal him. The Scottish generals and commissioners effected great surprise on the appearance of the king, and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity, they instantly set a guard upon him under colour of protection, and made him in reality a prisoner. They informed the English Parliament of this unexpected incident and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the king. They applied to him for orders to Belassis, governor of Newark, to surrender that town now reduced to extremity, and the orders were instantly obeyed. It was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news, and of and on every great event the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion. Have we eaten at all of the king's cost? Or hath he given us any gift? And the men of Israel answered the men of Judah and said We have ten parts in the king, and we have also more right in David than ye. Why then did ye despise us that our advice should not be first had in bringing back our king? And the words of the men of Judah were fiercer than the words of the men of Israel. Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung. While dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, thy wicked deeds to praise? The king stood up and called for that psalm which begins with these words Have mercy, Lord, on me I pray, for men would me devour. The good natured audience, in pity to fallen majesty, showed for once greater deference to the king than to the minister, and sung the psalm which the former had called for. Charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation. The terms given to most of them were honourable, and Fairfax, as far as it lay in his power, was very exact in observing them. Far from allowing violence, he would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity so cruel a civil war was ended in appearance very calmly between the parties. Ormond, having received like orders, delivered Dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers. Montrose also, after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune, threw down his arms and retired out of the kingdom. The Marquis of Worcester, a man past eighty four, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 13701.5, "words": 515, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He rode before a portmanteau and called himself Ashburnham's servant. He passed through Henley, St Albans, and came so near to London as Harrow on the hill. He once entertained thoughts of entering into that city and of throwing himself on the mercy of the Parliament, but at last, after passing through many crossroads, he arrived at the Scottish camp before Newark. The Parliament, hearing of his escape from Oxford, issued rigorous orders and threatened with instant death whoever should harbour or conceal him. The Scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise on the appearance of the king, and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity, They instantly set a guard upon him under colour of protection, and made him in reality a prisoner. They informed the English Parliament of this unexpected incident and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the King. They applied to him for orders to Belassis, governor of Newark, to surrender that town, now reduced to extremity, and the orders were instantly obeyed. It was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news, and on every great event the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion. Have we eaten at all of the king's cost? Or hath he given us any gift? And the men of Israel answered the men of Judah and said, We have ten parts in the king, and we have also more right in David than ye Why then did ye despise us, that our advice should not be first had in bringing back our king? And the words of the men of Judah were fiercer than the words of the men of Israel, and Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, thy wicked deeds to praise? The king stood up and called for that psalm which begins with these words Have mercy, Lord, on me I pray, for men would me devour. The good natured audience, in pity to fallen majesty, showed for once greater deference to the king than to the minister, and sung the psalm which the former had called for. Charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation. The terms given to most of them were honourable, and Fairfax, as far as it lay in his power, was very exact in observing them. Far from allowing violence, He would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity so cruel a civil war was ended in appearance very calmly between the parties. Having received like orders delivered Dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers, Montrose also, after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune, threw down his arms and retired out of the kingdom. The Marquis of Worcester, a man past eighty four, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament, and" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 8760.3, "words": 577, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Memory, which we are to consider today, introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms. The analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the thirteenth lecture, and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise. I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be effected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorists employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures. In the present lecture, I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory, in some form, is presupposed in almost all other knowledge. Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge. It might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i. e., with that integral experience of things and the environment, out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis. What is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates, images and expectations of their usual correlates, all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation. The purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult, though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the nonsensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems, which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture I alluded to Hume's principle that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. Whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions, every one would agree that it has a broad measure of truth, though the word exactly might seem an overstatement, and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions. What sort of evidence is there? And what sort of evidence is logically possible? The difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory, while, on the other hand, memory of past sensations seems only possible by means of present images. How then are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute if we say that images differ from their prototypes as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred, or even that the past should have existed at all. There is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was, with a population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now or will happen in the future can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I am not suggesting that the non existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 10812.5, "words": 577, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Memory, which we are to consider today, introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms. The analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the thirteenth lecture, and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise. I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be effected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorists employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures. In the present lecture I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory, in some form, is presupposed in almost all other knowledge. Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge. It might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i.e., with that integral experience of things and the environment. out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis. What is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates. images and expectations of their usual correlates, all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation. The purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult. though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the nonsensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems, which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture I alluded to Hume's principle that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. Whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions, everyone would agree that it has a broad measure of truth, though the word exactly might seem an overstatement, and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions. What sort of evidence is there? And what sort of evidence is logically possible? The difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory, while On the other hand, memory of past sensations seems only possible by means of present images. How then are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute if we say that images differ from their prototypes as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred. Or even that the past should have existed at all. There is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was, with a population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now or will happen in the future can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I am not suggesting that the non existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 8738.5, "words": 681, "errors": 19, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The new governor. So said I to myself, because of Jack and his love, all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed. It was for that that I wept. I wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world. I remained there alone for many hours, but I must acknowledge that before I left the chambers I had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light. Had Eva Cressweller not been good looking? Had Jack been still at college? Had Sir Kennington Oval remained in England? Had Mr. Bunnet and the barkeeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill? Should I have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend? That was a question which I ought to ask myself. Had Cressweller departed, and had the system then been stopped, should I not have appeared a murderer even to myself? But though I have been strong enough to originate the idea, I have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the of the opinions of those around me when I should have exercised against those dear to me the mandates of the new law. If I could, in the spirit, have leaped over a space of thirty years and been myself deposited in due order, I could see that my memory would have been embalmed with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens. Such had been my ambition, such had been my hope. Had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient Rome, would the Romans have accepted it or have stoned Wheatstone? On arriving at home at my own residence, I found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company. We did not usually use the room, but on entering the house I heard the clatter of conversation and went in. He rose to meet me, and I saw that he was a handsome, tall man about forty, with a determined face and a winning smile. Protest President, said he, I am in command of Her Majesty's gunboat, the John Bright, and I have come to pay my respects to the ladies. I am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you. I looked round the room, and there, with other of our fair citizens, I saw Eva. As I spoke, I made him a gracious bow, and I think I showed him by my mode of address that I did not bear any grudge as to my individual self. I have come to your shores, Mr. President, with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world. Things were progressing, Captain Batallax, pretty well before this morning. We have our little struggles here as elsewhere, and all things cannot be done by rosewater. We are quite satisfied now, Captain Battleaxe, said my wife. Quite satisfied, said Eva. I am sure we are all delighted to hear the lady speak in so pleasant a manner, said First Lieutenant Crosstrees, an officer with whom I have since become particularly intimate. Then there was a little pause in the conversation, and I felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which I had this morning been subjected, and yet that something must be playful in its nature. I must by no means show in such company as was now present the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind. You will perceive, Captain Battleax, that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony which was to have been accomplished this morning. The ladies, in compliance with that softness of heart, which is their characteristic, are on one side. And the men by whom the world has to be managed are on the other. No doubt, in process of time the ladies will follow. They're masters, said Mrs. Neverbend. This was a pretty little speech enough, and received the eager compliments of the officers of the John Bright." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 10275.3, "words": 681, "errors": 14, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The new governor. So said I to myself, because of Jack and his love, all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed. It was for that that I wept. I wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world. I remained there alone for many hours, but I must acknowledge that before I left the chambers I had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light. Had Eva Cressweller not been good looking? Had Jack been still at college? Had Sir Kennington Oval remained in England? Had mister Bunnet and the barkeeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill? Should I have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend? That was a question which I ought to ask myself. Had Cressweller departed, and had the system then been stopped, should I not have appeared a murderer even to myself? But though I have been strong enough to originate the idea, I have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the opinions of those around me when I should have exercised against those dear to me the mandates of the new law. If I could, in the spirit, have leaped over a space of thirty years and been myself deposited in due order, I could see that my memory would have been embalmed with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens. Such had been my ambition, such had been my hope. Had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient Rome, would the Romans have accepted it, or have stoned Wheatstone? On arriving at home at my own residence, I found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company. We did not usually use the room, but on entering the house I heard the clatter of conversation and went in. He rose to meet me, and I saw that he was a handsome, tall man about forty, with a determined face and a winning smile. Mr President, said he, I am in command of Her Majesty's gunboat, the John Bright, and I have come to pay my respects to the ladies. I am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you. I looked round the room and there, with other of our fair citizens, I saw Eva. As I spoke, I made him a gracious bow, and I think I showed him by my mode of address that I did not bear any grudge as to my individual self. I have come to your shores, mister President, with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world. Things were progressing, Captain Battalax, pretty well before this morning. We have our little struggles here as elsewhere, and all things cannot be done by rosewater. We are quite satisfied now, Captain Battleaxe, said my wife. Quite satisfied, said Eva. I am sure we are all delighted to hear the lady speak in so pleasant a manner, said First Lieutenant Crosstrees, an officer with whom I have since become particularly intimate. Then there was a little pause in the conversation, and I felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which I had this morning been subjected. and yet that something must be playful in its nature. I must by no means show in such company as was now present the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind. You will perceive, Captain Battleaxe, that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony which was to have been accomplished this morning. The ladies, in compliance with that softness of heart, which is their characteristic, are on one side, and the men, by whom the world has to be managed, are on the other. No doubt, in process of time, the ladies will follow. Their masters, said Mrs. Neverbend. This was a pretty little speech enough, and received the eager compliments of the officers of the John Bright." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 8827.9, "words": 680, "errors": 27, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "While this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy, still they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit, or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage. The treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford, and the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and cornceg for a diet. Julius, who was successful enough to bring his wife and a boy with him, was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions, nor was he all muscled by a great deal he was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness. In looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered, he could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced, from which it was evidence that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. Especially was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely or of good report belonging to the system. Julius had been kept in the dark in Maryland, but on free soil the light rushed in upon his astonished vision to a degree almost bewildering. That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit, since they were obtained from unpaid labour. In his review allusion was made not only to his master, but also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman, middling stout. This was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward, it is hardly necessary to say more of them here. Henry was about twenty three years of age, of an active turn, brown skin, and had given the question of freedom his most serious attention, as his actions proved. While he could neither read nor write, he could think. From the manner in which he expressed himself with regard to Robert Holland, no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he. His enthrallment while under Holland will hardly ever be forgotten. Of this party, Edward, a boy of seventeen, called forth much sympathy. He, too, was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical makeup, and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely a residence in Canada. Arrival from Maryland, 1858. John Wesley Combash, Jacob Taylor, and Thomas Edward Skinner. The revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt. John Wesley was thirty two years of age, of a lively turn, pleasant countenance, dark colour, and ordinary size. In unburdening his mind to the committee, the all absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave and the character of those who had oppressed him. He stated that he had been a victim of a man or party named Johnson, in whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high handed phases of barbarism, said he, these Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants. A few years back one of their slaves, a coachman was kept on the coach box one cold night when they were out at a ball until he became almost frozen to death. In fact, he did die in the infirmary from the effects of the frost about one week afterwards. Another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state, who was one day knocked downstairs by Mrs. Johnson herself, and in a few weeks after the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received. The doctor who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 11918.5, "words": 680, "errors": 36, "deleted": 16, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 12, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "While this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy, still they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit, or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage. The treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford and the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and corn cake for a diet. Julius, who was successful enough to bring his wife and a boy with him, was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions, nor was he all muscled by a great deal, and He was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness. In looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered, he could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced, from which it was evidence that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. Especially was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely or of good report belonging to the system. Julius had been kept in the dark in Maryland, but on free soil the light rushed in upon his astonished vision to a degree almost bewildering. That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit, since they were obtained from unpaid labor. In his review allusion was made not only to his master, but also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman, middling stout. This was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward It is hardly necessary to say more of them here. Henry was about twenty three years of age, of an active turn, brown skin, and had given the question of freedom his most serious attention, as his actions proved. While he could neither read nor write, he could think. From the manner in which he expressed himself with regard to Robert Holland, no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he. His enthrallment while under Holland will hardly ever be forgotten. He too was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical makeup and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely a residence in Canada. Arrival from Maryland eighteen fifty eight John Wesley Combash, Jacob Taylor, and Thomas Edward Skinner The revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to, and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt. John Wesley was thirty two years of age, of a lively turn, pleasant countenance, dark colour, and ordinary size. In unburdening his mind to the committee, The all absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave and the character of those who had oppressed him. He stated that he had been a victim of a man or party named Johnson, who had in whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high handed phases of barbarism, said he, these Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants. A few years back one of their slaves, a coachman, was kept on the coach box one cold night when they were out at a ball until he became almost frozen to death. In fact he did die in the infirmary from the effects of the frost about one week afterwards. Another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state, who was one day knocked downstairs by Mrs. Johnson herself, and in a few weeks after the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received. The doctor who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 9164.6, "words": 511, "errors": 22, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us, admits Professor Aranax early in this novel. What goes on in those distant depths? What creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water. It's almost beyond conjecture. This reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of 20,000 leagues under the seas. Born in the French river town of Nance, Verne had a lifelong passion for the sea. First as a Paris stockbroker, later as a celebrated author and yachtsman, he went on frequent voyages to Britain, America, the Mediterranean, but the specific stimulus for this novel was an eighteen sixty five fan letter from a fellow writer, Madame Madame George Sand. Thus inspired, Verne created one of literature's great rebels, a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare. Initially, Verne's narrative was influenced by the 1863 uprising of Poland against Tsarist Russia. Nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine, the Nautilus, then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor. Verne reworked its political content, devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy, information revealed only in a later novel, The Mysterious Island 1875. In the present work, Nemo's background remains a dark secret. In all, the novel had a difficult gestation. These observations partly apply here. Shark attacks, giant squid, cannibals, hurricanes, whale hunts, and other riproaring adventures erupt almost at random. These unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum. Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information, and insight. Verne regards the sea from many angles. In the domain of marine biology he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish, seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogues that swirl past like musical cascades. In the realm of geology he studied volcanoes, literally inside and out. In the world of commerce, he celebrates the high energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic cable or dig the Suez Canal, and Verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative. His specifications for an open sea submarine and a self-containing diving suit were decades before their time, yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly. True, today's scientists know a few things he didn't. The South Pole isn't at the water's edge but far inland. Sharks don't flip over before attacking. Giant squids sport ten tentacles, not eight. Sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins. This notwithstanding, Verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of Jacques Cousteau and and technicolor film. Lastly, the book has stature as a novel of character. Even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn. Professor Aronax, the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict, Conseil, the compulsive classifier, who supplies humorous taglines for Verne's fast facts. The harpooner Ned Land, a creature of constant appetites, man as heroic animal. But much of the novel's brooding power comes from Captain Nemo," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 11860.6, "words": 511, "errors": 16, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us, admits Professor Aranax early in this novel. What goes on in those distant depths? What creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water? It's almost beyond conjecture. This reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of twenty thousand leagues under the seas. Born in the French river town of Nance, Verne had a lifelong passion for the sea. First as a Paris stockbroker, later as a celebrated author and yachtsman, he went on frequent voyages to Britain, America, the Mediterranean. But the specific stimulus for this novel was an eighteen sixty five fan letter from a fellow writer, Madame George Sand. Thus inspired, Verne created one of literature's great rebels, a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare. Initially, Verne's narrative was influenced by the eighteen sixty three uprising of Poland against Tsarist Russia. Nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine, the Nautilus, then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor. Verne reworked its political content, Devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy, information revealed only in a later novel, The Mysterious Island 1875. In the present work, Nemo's background remains a dark secret. In all, the novel had a difficult gestation. These observations partly apply here. Shark attacks, giant squid, cannibals, hurricanes, whale hunts, and other riproaring adventures erupt almost at random. These unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum. Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information, and insight. Verne regards the sea from many angles. In the domain of marine biology, he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish, fish, seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogues that swirl past like musical cascades. In the realm of geology he studied volcanoes, literally inside and out, In the world of commerce he celebrates the high energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic cable or dig the Suez Canal, and Verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative. His specifications for an open sea submarine and a self containing diving suit were decades before their time, yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly. True, today's scientists know a few things he didn't. The South Pole isn't at the water's edge, but far inland. Sharks don't flip over before attacking. Giant squids sport ten tentacles, not eight. Sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins. This notwithstanding, Verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of Jacques Cousteau and Technicolor film. Lastly, the book has stature as a novel of character. Even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn. Professor Aranax, the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict, Conseil, the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous taglines for Verne's fast facts. The harpooner Ned Land, a creature of constant appetites, man as heroic animal. But much of the novel's brooding power comes from Captain Nemo," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 9710.6, "words": 620, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER three As Master Wishes Three seconds before the arrival of JB Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the Northwest Passage. Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable secretary of the navy, I understood at last that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it. Even so, I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections. But now nothing could hold me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused, all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France. That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas as a personal favourite to me, and I'll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a metre of its ivory lance. Conseil was my manservant, a devoted lad who went with me on all of my journeys, a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment, a born stoic, punctilious on principle, habitually hard working, rarely startled by life's surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means counsel, never giving advice, not even the unsolicited kind. From rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two. In Conseil I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. But there his science came to a halt. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. Well versed in the theory of classification, he was poorly versed in its practical application, and I doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale, and yet what a fine, gallant lad. For the past ten years, Conseil had gone with me wherever science beckoned. Not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey. Never did he object to buckling up his suitcase for any country whatever, China or the Congo, no matter how far off it was. He went here, there, and everywhere in perfect contentment. The lad was thirty years old, and his age to that of his employer was as fifteen is to twenty. Please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that I had turned forty. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person, to the point where it got tiresome. Conseil, I repeated, while feverishly beginning my preparations for departure. To be sure I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely, a hazardous undertaking whose purpose was to hunt an animal, it could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell. There was good reason to stop and think, even for the world's most emotionless man. What would Conseil say? Conseil I called a third time. Conseil appeared. Did Master summon me? he said, entering. We're departing in two hours. As Master wishes, Conseil replied serenely. We haven't a moment to lose." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 11099.0, "words": 620, "errors": 13, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "CHAPTER three As Master Wishes Three seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the North West Passage. Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable secretary of the Navy, I understood at last that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it. Even so, I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections. But now nothing could hold me back. work. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused, all roads lead home to Europe. up, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France. That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas as a personal favorite to me, and I'll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a metre of its ivory lance. Conseil was my manservant, a devoted lad who went with me on all of my journeys, a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked, and who returned the compliment, a born Stoic Punctilious on principle, habitually hard working, rarely startled by life's surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means counsel, never giving advice, not even the unsolicited kind. From rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two. In Conseil I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. But there his science came to a halt. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. Well versed in the theory of classification, he was poorly versed in its practical application, and I doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale, and yet what a fine, gallant lad. For the past ten years Conseil had gone with me wherever science beckoned. Not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey, never did he object to buckling up his suitcase for any country whatever, China or the Congo, No matter how far off it was, he went here, there, and everywhere in perfect contentment. The lad was thirty years old, and his age to that of his employer was as fifteen is to twenty. But Please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that I had turned forty. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person, to the point where it got tiresome. Conseil, I repeated. while feverishly beginning my preparations for departure. To be sure I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely. a hazardous undertaking whose purpose was to hunt an animal, it could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell. There was good reason to stop and think, even for the world's most emotionless man. What would Conseil say? Conseil I called a third time. Conseil appeared. Did Master summon me? he said, entering. We're departing in two hours. As Master wishes, Conseil replied serenely. We haven't a moment to lose." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 8294.9, "words": 752, "errors": 45, "deleted": 13, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "He found the cord still tied to his big toe, and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing room. While he put on his clothes, the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt Captain Bill's big toe and make him yell. But as no response came to this mean action, the Boolaroo finally looked into the room, only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch, and that his prisoner had escaped. Then he flew into a mighty rage, and running out into the hall, he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. Then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured. While the Bularoo stormed and raged, a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in, surrounding Captain Bill, who was again firmly bound. So no one can resist the mighty booleroo of the blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. Hold him fast my men, and as soon as I've had my coffee and oatmeal, I'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him. I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself, said Campbell. I've had considerable exercise this morning, and I'm all ready for breakfast. Very good Very well, replied the Boolaroo, you shall eat with me, for then I can keep an eye on you. My guards are not to be trusted, and I don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched. So Captain Bill and the Boolaroo had breakfast together, six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailormen to grab him if he attempted to escape. But Captain Bill made no such attempt, knowing it would be useless. Trot was in the room too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save Captain Bill from being patched. No one could see her, so no one, not even Captain Bill, knew she was there. After breakfast was over, a procession was formed, headed by the Boolaroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife. Invisible Trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend. As soon as they entered the room of the great knife, the Boolaroo gave a yell of disappointment. The frightened soldiers hurried away to find Tiggle, and Trat was well pleased because she knew Tickle was by this time safely hidden. The booleroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring Captain Bill should be patched whether Tiggle was found or not, and while they waited, Trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. The room of the great knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. In one place, at the head of the room, was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen, and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snow nosed princesses. The poor queen, by the way, was seldom seen, as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game. Therefore, her Majesty paid no attention to anyone, and no one paid any attention to her. In the centre of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name, a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the Blue City. The knife was built into a huge framework, like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the boolaroo pulled a cord, the grape blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it, and in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame to which the prisoner was tied, so that he couldn't wiggle either way. This frame was on rollers so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 11083.3, "words": 752, "errors": 47, "deleted": 14, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He found the cord still tied to his big toe, and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing room. While he put on his clothes, the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull, hoping to hurt Captain Bill's big toe and make him yell. But as no response came to this mean action, the Boolaroo finally looked into the room, only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch, and that his prisoner had escaped. Then he flew into a mighty rage, and running out into the hall, he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard, knocking the fellow off his feet. Then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard, shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured While the Boolaroo stormed and raged, a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in, surrounding Captain Bill, who was again firmly bound. So No one can resist the mighty booleroo of the blues, so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands. Hold him fast to my men, and as soon as I've had my coffee and oatmeal, I'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself, said Cambil. I have had considerable exercise this morning, and am all ready for breakfast. Very well, replied the Boolaroo. You shall eat with me, for then I can keep an eye on you. My guards are not to be trusted, and I don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched. So Captain Bill and the Boolaroo had breakfast together, six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailormen to grab him if he attempted to escape. But Captain Bill made no such attempt. knowing it would be useless. Trot was in the room too, standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save Captain Bill from being patched. No one could see her, so no one, not even Captain Bill, knew she was there. After breakfast was over, a procession was formed, headed by the Boolaroo, and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife. Invisible Trot followed soberly after them, still wondering what she could do to save her friend As soon as they entered the room of the great knife, the Boolaroo gave a yell of disappointment. The frightened soldiers hurried away to find Tickle, and Trat was well pleased because she knew Tickle was by this time safely hidden. The boolaroo stamped up and down the room, muttering threats and declaring Captain Bill should be patched whether Tiggle was found or not, and while they waited, Trot took time to make an inspection of the place, which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight. The room of the great knife was high and big, and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon. In one place, at the head of the room, was a raised platform for the royal family, with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen, and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snow nosed princesses The poor Queen, by the way, was seldom seen, as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short, hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game. Therefore her Majesty paid no attention to anyone, and no one paid any attention to her. In the centre of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name, a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the Blue City. The knife was built into a huge framework, like a derrick, that reached to the ceiling, and it was so arranged that when the boolaroo pulled a cord, the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it. And in order that the slicing would be accurate, there was another frame to which the prisoner was tied, so that he couldn't wiggle either way. This frame was on rollers so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 8873.8, "words": 675, "errors": 39, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "So they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen, and in a short time the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told Trot and Captain Bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. In this order they proceeded to the main gate, which Trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. Then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them. At the head of the pinkies were Gipga Sizzle and Button Bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by Captain Coralie and Captain Tintent and Rosalie the witch. They had decided to capture the Blue City at all hazards, that they might rescue Trot and Captain Bill and conquer the Boolaroo. So when from a distance they saw the Blueskins march from the gate, with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. However, as the two forces came nearer together, Buton Bright spied Trot and Captain Bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. Welcome, friends shouted Captain Bill in a loud voice, and welcome cried Trot, and welcome roared the blue soldiers and the people of the blue city. Hooray yelled the parrot, and then he flapped his wings and barched like a dog with pure delight, and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak, said Button Bright, I can't hear myself think. The pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues, and hesitated to advance. But Tart now ran up in front of them and made a little speech. Pinkies, said she, your queen has conquered the Boolaroo, and is now the Queen of the Blues. All of Sky Island, except the fog bank, is now my kingdom, so I welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city, where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time. The war is over, and everybody must be sociable and happy, or I'll know the reason why. Now indeed, the pinkies raised a great shout of joy, and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and Rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with Captain Bill and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to Trot's shoulder and screeched. When the blueskins saw Gitka sizzle, they raised another great shout, for he was the favourite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people, but Kitgeciel did not heed the shouting. He was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the Bularoo himself. But the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins and said, I escaped from the city because the Bularo tried to patch me, as you all know, and the six snubnosed princesses tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune. Since last Thursday I, Gipasizel, have been the lawful boolaroo of the Blue Country, but now that you are conquered by Queen Trot, I suppose I am conquered too, and you have no booleroo at all. Hooray cried the parrot. When he finished, she said cheerfully, Don't worry, Sizzle, dear, it'll all come right pretty soon. Now then, let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked. I'm nearly starved myself, for this conquering kingdoms is hard work. So the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city, and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merry making that lasted for three full days. The parrot perched upon the back of Queen Trot's chair, and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jolly bird with her again." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 12248.8, "words": 675, "errors": 47, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "So they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen, and in a short time the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told Trot and Captain Bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace. In this order they proceeded to the main gate, which Trot ordered the guards to throw wide open. Then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them At the head of the pinkies were Gipga Sizzle and Button Bright, who had the parrot on his shoulder, and they were supported by Captain Coralie and Captain Tintent and Rosalie the witch. They had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards, that they might rescue Trot and Captain Bill and conquer the Boolaroo. So when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate, with banners flying and bands playing, they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place. However, as the two forces came nearer together, Butonbright spied Trot and Captain Bill standing before the enemy, and the sight astonished him considerably. Welcome, friends shouted Captain Bill in a loud voice, and welcome cried Trot, and welcome roared the blue soldiers and the people of the Blue City. Hooray yelled the parrot, and then he flapped his wings and barked like a dog with pure delight, and added, as fast as his bird's tongue could speak, said Button Bright, I can't hear myself think. The pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues, and hesitated to advance. But But Tart now ran up in front of them and made a little speech. Pinkies, said she, your queen has conquered the Boolaroo and is now the queen of the blues. Why? All of Sky Island, except the fog bank, is now my kingdom, so I welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city, where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time. The war is over, and everybody must be sociable and happy, or I'll know the reason why Now, indeed, the pinkies raised a great shout of joy, and the blues responded with another joyful shout, and Rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders, and everybody shook hands with Captain Bill and congratulated him upon his escape, and the parrot flew to Trot's shoulder and screeched. When the blueskins saw Gitgesel, they raised another great shout, for he was the favourite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people. But Gitge sizzle did not heed the shouting. He was looking downcast and sad, and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the Boolaroo himself. But the people called upon him for a speech, so he faced the blueskins and said, I escaped from the city because the Bularo tried to patch me, as you all know. And the six snubnosed princesses tried to marry me, which would have been a far greater misfortune. Since last Thursday I, Gipizal, have been the lawful Bularoo of the Blue Country. But now that you are conquered by Queen Trot, I suppose I am conquered too, and you have no Bolaroo at all. Hooray cried the parrot. When he finished, she said cheerfully, Don't worry, Sizzle, dear, it'll all come right pretty soon. Now then, let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked. I'm nearly starved myself, for I For this conquering kingdoms is hard work. So the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city, and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merry making that lasted for three full years. dazed. The parrot perched upon the back of Queen Trot's chair, and the girl fed it herself, being glad to have the jollybird with her again." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 9154.2, "words": 511, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of colour through the sky, That swirl and sweep and meet, To break and foam like rainbow veils upon a bubble's dome. Yours are the songs that burst about my ears, or blow away as many colored spheres. You are the star that made the skies all bright, Yet tore itself away in flaming flight. You are the tree that suddenly awoke, you are the rose that came to life and spoke guided by you, how we might stroll towards death, our only music one another's breath, Through gardens intimate with hollyhocks, where silent poppies burned between the rocks, by pools where birches bend to confidants above green waters scummed with lily plants. There we might wander, you and I alone, through gardens filled with marble seats moss grown, And fountains, water threads that winds disperse, while in the spray the birds sit and converse, And when the fireflies mixed their circling glow through the dark plants, then gently might I know your lips, light as the wings of the dragonflies, merely dreams fluttering in my eyes. You thought I had forgotten. You thought I had forgotten. Well, I had. Although I never guessed I could forget those few great moments when we both went mad. It was some trick, the way your eyebrows raise, your hands, some vivid trifle. With a start then I remembered how I lived alone, writing bad poems and eating out my heart all for your beauty, how the time has flown. Venice! In a sunset glowing of crimson and gold she lies, the glory of the world, a beached king's galley whose sails are furled, who is hung with tapestries rich and old. She is a goddess left for us, veiled with the softening veils of time, her blue veined breasts are now sublime, her moulded torso glorious. The pity that we must come and go, while the old gold and the marble stays, forever gleaming its soft, strong blaze, calm in the early evening glow, and still the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track, light on the tides as lilies, and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets. The new macab The pleasant graveyard of my soul with sentimental cypress trees and flowers is filled, that I may stroll in meditation at my ease. And while night rustles through the trees, dragging the stars along, I know the moon is rising on the breeze, quivering as in a river's flow. And ah that moon of silver sheen, it is my heart hung in the sky, and no clouds ever float between the grave flowers and my heart on high. I do not read upon each stone the name that once was carvened there, I merely note new blossoms blown and breathe the perfume of the air. Thus walk I through my wonderland while all the evening is attune, beneath the cypress trees that stand like candles to the barren moon. To war," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 11649.0, "words": 511, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of colour through the sky, That swirl and sweep and meet, To break and foam like rainbow veils upon a bubble's dome. Yours are the songs that burst about my ears, or blow away as many colored spheres. You are the star that made the skies all bright, yet tore itself away in flaming flight You are the tree that suddenly awoke, you are the rose that came to life and spoke. Guided by you, how we might stroll towards death. Our only music one another's breath, through gardens intimate with hollyhocks, where silent poppies burn between the rocks, by pools where birches bend to confidants above green waters scummed with lily plants There we might wander, you and I alone, Through gardens filled with marble seats moss grown, And fountains, water threads that winds disperse, while in the spray the birds sit and converse. And when the fireflies mixed their circling glow through the dark plants, then gently might I know your lips, light as the wings of the dragonflies, merely dreams fluttering in my eyes You thought I had forgotten. You thought I had forgotten. Well, I had, although I never guessed I could forget those few great moments when we both went mad. It was some trick, the way your eyebrows raise, your hands, some vivid trifle. With a start then I remembered how I lived alone, writing bad poems and eating out my heart all for your beauty, how the time has flown. Venice In a sunset glowing of crimson and gold, She lies, the glory of the world, A beached king's galley, whose sails are furled, Who is hung with tapestries rich and old She is a goddess left for us, veiled with the softening veils of time, her blue veined breasts are now sublime, her moulded torso glorious. The pity that we must come and go While the old gold and the marble stays, Forever gleaming its soft, strong blaze Calm in the early evening glow. and still the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track, light on the tides as lilies, and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets. The New Macab The pleasant graveyard of my soul, with sentimental cypress trees and flowers, is filled, that I may stroll in meditation at my ease. And while night rustles through the trees, dragging the stars along, I know the moon is rising on the breeze, quivering as in a river's flow. And ah that moon of silver sheen It is my heart hung in the sky, And no clouds ever float between the grave flowers and my heart on high. I do not read upon each stone the name that once was carvened there, I merely note new blossoms blown and breathe the perfume of the air. Thus walk I through my wonderland while all the evening is attune, Beneath the cypress trees that stand like candles to the barren moon, To war." }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 8238.1, "words": 520, "errors": 28, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Does the eagle know what is in the pit? To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day? Down by the river of Adonna her soft voice is heard, and thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew. O life of this our spring, why fades the lotus of the water? Why fade these children of the spring born but to smile in fall? Ah, Thel is like a watery bow and like a parting cloud, like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water, like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face, like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air. Ah, gentle May I lay me down in gentle rest my head, and gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time. The lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass, answered the lovely maid and said, I am a watery weed, and I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales. So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head, yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all, walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads his hand, saying, Rejoice thou humble grass, thou newborn lily flower, thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks, for thou shall be clothed in light and fed with morning manna, Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs, To flourish in eternal vales. They, why should thou complain? Why should the mistress of the Vales of Har utter a sigh? She ceased and smiled in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine. Thel answered, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, thy wine doth purify the golden honey, thy perfume, which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, revives the milked cow, And tames the fire breathing steed, but thou is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun. I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place? Queen of the veils, the lily answered, ask the tender cloud, and it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky, and why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. Descend, O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel. O little cloud, the Virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away. Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah, Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head, and his bright form emerged, hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Fell. O Virgin, know'st thou not, Our steeds drink of the golden springs, where Luva doth renew his horses. Lookest thou on my youth, and fearest thou because I vanish, and am seen no more. Nothing remains. O maid, I tell thee, when I pass away," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 9502.8, "words": 520, "errors": 28, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Does the eagle know what is in the pit? To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day? Down by the river of Adonna her soft voice is heard. And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew. O life of this our spring, why fades the lotus of the water? Why fade these children of the spring born but to smile and fall? Ah Thel is like a watery bow and like a parting cloud, like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water, like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face. Like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air. Ah, gentle may I lay me down in gentle rest my head, And gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time. The lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass, answered the lovely maid and said I am a watery weed, and I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales. So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head, yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all, walks in the valley, and each mourn over me spreads his hand, saying, Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou newborn lily flower, thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks. For thou shalt be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna, Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs, To flourish in eternal vales. They, why should thou complain? Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh? She ceased, and smiled in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine. Fel answered, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, thy wine doth purify the golden honey, Thy perfume, which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, revives the milked cow, and tames the fire breathing steed, but thou is like a faint cloud, kindled at the rising sun. I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place? Queen of the Vales, the lily answered, ask the tender cloud, and it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky. and why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. Descend, O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel. O little cloud, the Virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away, Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah, thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head, and his bright form emerged, hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel. O Virgin, know'st thou not, our steeds drink of the golden springs, where Luva doth renew his horses. Lookest thou on my youth, and fearest thou because I vanish, and am seen no more, nothing remains. O maid, I tell thee, when I pass away" }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 8626.8, "words": 522, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "All is said without a word I sit beneath thy looks, as children do in the noonsun, with souls that tremble through their happy eyelids from an unaverred yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most, but the occasion that we too should for a moment stand unministered by a mutual present. Ah, keep near and close, thou dove like help. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed a wrong on thee. Is the same, the same, perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers, or break off from a game, to run and answer with the smile that came at play last moment, and went on with me through my obedience. Shall I never miss home talk and blessing, and the common kiss that comes to each in turn, Nor count it strange, when I look up, To drop on a new range of walls and floors, another home than this. Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is filled by dead eyes too tender, to no change that's hardest? If to conquer love has tried to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove, for grief indeed is love, and grief beside. Alas, I have grieved, so I am hard to love. Yet love me, wilt thou? Open thy heart wide, and fold within the wet wings of thy dove. Could it mean, to last, a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled, distrusting every light that seemed to gild the onward path, and feared to overlean, a finger even. And though I have grown serene and strong since then, I think that God has willed a still renewable fear O love, O troth, lest these enclasped hands should never hold, This mutual kiss drop down between us both as an unowned thing, once the lips being cold, And love be false, if he to keep one oath, Must lose one joy by his life's star foretold, slow to world greetings, quick with its O list, when the angels speak, a ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, than that first kiss. The second passed in height, the first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, half falling on the hair. Oh beyond meade. That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, with sanctifying sweetness, did proceed, the third upon my lips, was folded down in perfect purple state. Since when, indeed, I have been proud and said, My love, my own. Dearest, teach me so to pour out gratitude, as thou dost good. They love through all this world of ours. Musselmans and gyors throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth for any weeping. Polypheme's white tooth slips on the nut if, after frequent showers, the shell is over smooth, and not so much will turn the thing called love aside to hate, or else to oblivion. But thou art not such a lover, my beloved," }, { "engine": "parakeet", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 10908.4, "words": 522, "errors": 19, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "All is said without a word I sit beneath thy looks, as children do in the noonsun, with souls that tremble through their happy eyelids from an unaverred yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most, but the occasion that we too should for a moment stand unministered by a mutual present. Ah Ah, keep near and close, thou dove like help. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed a wrong on thee. Is the same the same, perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers, or break off from a game, to run in answer with the smile that came at play last moment. and went on with me through my obedience. Shall I never miss home talk and blessing and the common kiss that comes to each in turn, nor count it strange when I look up to drop on a new range of walls and floors, another home than this? Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is filled by dead eyes too tender, to no change that's hardest? If to conquer love hast tried to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove, for grief indeed is love, and grief beside. Alas, I have grieved, so I am hard to love. yet love me, wilt thou? Open thy heart wide, and fold within the wet wings of thy dove? Could it mean, to last, a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled distrusting every light that seemed to gild the onward path, and fear to overlean a finger even. And though I have grown serene and strong since then, I think that God has willed a still renewable fear, O love, O troth, and the earth. lest these enclasped hands should never hold, This mutual kiss drop down between us both as an unowned thing, Once the lips being cold, And love be false. If he, to keep one oath, must lose one joy by his life's star foretold, slow to world greetings, Quick with its O list, when the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight than that first kiss. The second passed in height, the first, and sought the forehead, and half mist, half falling on the hair. Oh, beyond meade That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, with sanctifying sweetness, did proceed, The third upon my lips, was folded down in perfect purple state. Since when, indeed, I have been proud and said, My love, my own. Dearest, teach me so to pour out gratitude, as thou dost good. They love through all this world of ours. Muslimans, And gyors throw kerchiefs at a smile, And have no ruth for any weeping. Polypheme's white tooth slips on the nut if, after frequent showers, the shell is over smooth, and not so much will turn the thing called love. aside to hate, or else to oblivion. But thou art not such a lover, my beloved," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 10489.3, "words": 553, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips and carrots and bruised potatoes, and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick, peppered, flour-fattened sauce. Stuff it into you, his belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy, secret night. After early nightfall, the yellow lamps would light up here and there the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling all ways nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sin-loving soul from their soft, perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them. His eyes, a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention or a gaudy playbill. His ears, the drawling jargon of greeting. Hello, Bertie. Any good in your mind? Number ten. Fresh Nellie is waiting on you. Good night, husband. Coming in to have a short time? The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing. The eyes opening and closing were stars being born and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its center, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble and a cloud of fine stardust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the bale fire of its burning stars and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched, and the cold darkness filled chaos. A cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul. At his first violent sin he had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardor extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally, not once but many times, and he knew that, while he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin he multiplied his guilt and his punishment. His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134686_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 230.46, "ms": 14484.1, "words": 553, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips and carrots and bruised potatoes, and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick, peppered, flour-fattened sauce. Stuff it into you, his belly counseled him. It would be a gloomy, secret night. After early nightfall the yellow lamps would light up here and there the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious course up and down the streets, circling all ways nearer and nearer in a tremor of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. He would pass by them calmly, waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sin-loving soul from their soft perfumed flesh. Yet, as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them. his eyes a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing to attention or a gaudy playbill his ears the drawling jargon of greeting \"'Hello, Bertie. Any good in your mind?' \"'Number ten. Fresh Nellie is waiting on you.' \"'Good-night, husband. Coming in to have a short time?' The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock's, and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing. The eyes opening and closing were stars being born and being quenched. The vast cycle of starry life bore his weary mind outward to its verge and inward to its center, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer, and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley's fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble, and a cloud of fine stardust fell through space. The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the bale fire of its burning stars, and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching its own lights and fires. They were quenched. and the cold darkness filled chaos. A cold, lucid indifference reigned in his soul. At his first violent sin he had felt a wave of vitality pass out of him, and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Thank you. Instead the vital wave had carried him on its bosom out of himself and back again when it receded, and no part of body or soul had been maimed, but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardor extinguished itself was a cold, indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned, mortally, not once but many times, and he knew that, While he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin he multiplied his guilt and his punishment. His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 10000.9, "words": 637, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He could wait no longer. A full hour had passed since his father had gone in with Dan Crosby, the tutor, to find out for him something about the university. For a full hour he had paced up and down, waiting, but he could wait no longer. He set off abruptly for the bull, walking rapidly lest his father's shrill whistle might call him back, and in a few moments he had rounded the curve at the police barrack, and was safe. Yes, his mother was hostile to the idea, as he had read from her listless silence. Yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride, and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul, aging and strengthening in her eyes. A dim antagonism gathered force within him, and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty, and when it passed, cloud-like, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. The university! So he had passed beyond the challenge of the sentries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood, and had sought to keep him among them that he might be subject to them and serve their ends. Pride after satisfaction uplifted him like long, slow waves. The end he had been born to serve, yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path. And now it beckoned to him once more, and a new adventure was about to be opened to him. It seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music like leaping upwards a tone and downwards a diminished fourth, upwards a tone and downwards a major third, like triple-branching flames leaping fitfully, flame after flame, out of a midnight wood. It was an elfin prelude, endless and formless. And as it grew wilder and faster, the flames leaping out of time he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses wild creatures racing, their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves. Their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of hearts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman, whose feet are as the feet of hearts and underneath the everlasting arms. The pride of that dim image brought back to his mind the dignity of the office he had refused. All through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny, and when the moment had come for him to obey the call, he had turned aside, obeying a wayward instinct. Now time lay between. The oils of ordination would never anoint his body. He had refused. Why? He turned seaward from the road at Dolly Mount, and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge, he felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet. A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull and had begun to pass, two by two, across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. The uncouth faces passed him two by two, stained yellow or red or livid by the sea, and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference. A faint stain of personal shame and commiseration rose to his own face. Angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top-heavy silk hats and humble tape-like collars and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother Hickey. Brother McArdle. Brother Keeoff." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1089-134691_0000", "speaker": "1089", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 13274.4, "words": 637, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "he could wait no longer a full hour had passed since his father had gone in with dan crosby the tutor to find out for him something about the university for a full hour he had paced up and down waiting but he could wait no longer he set off abruptly for the bull walking rapidly lest his father's shrill whistle might call him back and in a few moments he had rounded the curve at the police barrack and was safe yes his mother was hostile to the idea as he had read from her listless silence yet her mistrust pricked him more keenly than his father's pride and he thought coldly how he had watched the faith which was fading down in his soul aging and strengthening in her eyes a dim antagonism gathered force within him and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty And when it passed, cloud-like, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives. the university so he had passed beyond the challenge of the sentries who had stood as guardians of his boyhood and had sought to keep him among them that he might be subject to them and serve their ends Pride after satisfaction uplifted him like long, slow waves. The end he had been born to serve, yet did not see, had led him to escape by an unseen path. and now it beckoned to him once more and a new adventure was about to be opened to him it seemed to him that he heard notes of fitful music leaping upwards a tone and downwards a diminished fourth upwards a tone and downwards a major third like triple branching flames leaping fitfully flame after flame out of a midnight wood it was an elfin prelude endless and formless and as it grew wilder and faster the flames leaping out of time he seemed to hear from under the boughs and grasses wild creatures racing their feet pattering like rain upon the leaves. Their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of hearts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more, and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman. whose feet are as the feet of hearts and underneath the everlasting arms. The pride of that dim image brought back to his mind the dignity of the office he had refused, all through his boyhood he had mused upon that which he had so often thought to be his destiny and when the moment had come for him to obey the call he had turned aside obeying a wayward instinct now time lay between the oils of ordination would never anoint his body he had refused why he turned seaward from the road at dolly mount and as he passed on to the thin wooden bridge he felt the planks shaking with the tramp of heavily shod feet A squad of Christian brothers was on its way back from the bull and had begun to pass two by two across the bridge. Soon the whole bridge was trembling and resounding. the uncouth faces passed him two by two stained yellow or red or livid by the sea and as he strove to look at them with ease and indifference a faint stain of personal shame and commiseration rose to his own face Angry with himself, he tried to hide his face from their eyes by gazing down sideways into the shallow, swirling water under the bridge, but he still saw a reflection therein of their top-heavy silk hats, and humble, tape-like collars, and loosely hanging clerical clothes. Brother Hickey Brother McArdle Brother Kieff" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 11902.9, "words": 639, "errors": 15, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 12, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 12, "text": "Thus, you know in your study of sculpture, we saw that the essential aim of the Greek art was tranquil action. The chief aim of Gothic art was passionate rest, a peace, an eternity of intense sentiment. You will find me continually speaking of four men, Titian, Holbein, Turner, and Tintoret, in almost the same terms. They unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colorists, sometimes as chiaroscurists. By being studious of color, they are studious of division, and while the chiaroscurist devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing, unseparated light, the colorists have for their function the attainment of beauty by arrangement of the divisions of light. My first and principal reason was that they enforced, beyond all resistance, on any student who might attempt to copy them, this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side. Some of the touches, indeed, when the tint has been mixed with much water, have been laid in little drops or ponds, so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge. And it follows also from this law of construction, that there must never be any hesitation or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit. It is the head of a parrot with a little flower in his beak from a picture of Carpaccio's, one of his series of the life of St. George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath is left, for the most part. One touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark gray define the outer curve, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. There are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass. Yet it is ten to one that in any modern gallery, such a picture would be hung thirty feet from the ground. For, believe me, the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock-robin is to be red, and of a grass plot to be green. And the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light, which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch. Now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly and harmonized with the other hues, it becomes somehow more precious and pearly than the white paper. And that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all round it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell as jewels if they are gradated justly. Again, there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however deep, of these two studies, so that if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance. But in this vignette, copied from Turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. They are beyond all other works that I know existing, dependent for their effect on low, subdued tones, their favorite choice in time of day being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of gray paper. It may be that a great colorist will use his utmost force of color as a singer his full power of voice, but, loud or low, the virtue is in both cases always in refinement, never in loudness. It must, remember, be one or the other. But there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one, if it be right and profitable, though incomplete. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1188-133604_0000", "speaker": "1188", "seconds": 231.72, "ms": 13413.1, "words": 639, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "thus you know in your study of sculpture we saw that the essential aim of the greek art was tranquil action the chief aim of gothic art was passionate rest a peace an eternity of intense sentiment You will find me continually speaking of four men, Titian, Holbein, Turner, and Tintoret, in almost the same terms. They unite every quality, and sometimes you will find me referring to them as colorists, sometimes as chiaroscurists, by being studious of color they are studious of division and while the curoscurist devotes himself to the representation of degrees of force in one thing unseparated light the colorists have for their function the attainment of beauty by arrangement of the divisions of light my first and principal reason was that they enforced beyond all resistance on any student who might attempt to copy them this method of laying portions of distinct hue side by side some of the touches indeed when the tint has been mixed with much water have been laid in little drops or ponds so that the pigment might crystallize hard at the edge and it follows also from this law of construction that there must never be any hesitation or repentance in the direction of your lines of limit it is the head of a parrot with a little flower in his beak from a picture of carpaccio's one of his series of the life of St. George. Then he comes to the beak of it. The brown ground beneath is left for the most part. One touch of black is put for the hollow, two delicate lines of dark gray define the outer curve, and one little quivering touch of white draws the inner edge of the mandible. there are very few persons in the room who will be able to see the drawing of the bird's beak without a magnifying glass yet it is ten to one that in any modern gallery such a picture would be hung thirty feet from the ground for believe me the final philosophy of art can only ratify their opinion that the beauty of a cock robin is to be red and of a grass plot to be green and the best skill of art is in instantly seizing on the manifold deliciousness of light which you can only seize by precision of instantaneous touch now you will see in these studies that the moment the white is enclosed properly and harmonized with the other hues it becomes somehow more precious and pearly than the white paper. And that I am not afraid to leave a whole field of untreated white paper all around it, being sure that even the little diamonds in the round window will tell as jewels if they are gradated justly. Again, there is not a touch of black in any shadow, however deep, of these two studies, so that if I chose to put a piece of black near them, it would be conspicuous with a vengeance. But in this vignette... \"'copied from Turner, you have the two principles brought out perfectly. \"'They are beyond all other works that I know existing, \"'dependent for their effect on low, subdued tones.' their favorite choice in time of day being either dawn or twilight, and even their brightest sunsets produced chiefly out of gray paper. It may be that a great colorist will use his utmost force of color as a singer his full power of voice, but... loud or low the virtue is in both cases always in refinement never in loudness it must remember be one or the other but there is no reason why your system of study should be a complete one if it be right and profitable, though incomplete. Do not, therefore, think that the Gothic school is an easy one." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 9556.5, "words": 389, "errors": 15, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Hairdresser, a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his headwork with his hands. Hammer, a small, busy implement carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship. Also a popular contrivance, whereby lovemaking may be suspended but not stopped during the picnic season. Hand, a much-desired possession, supplied by the damsel or the dealer. Glad hand, the beggar's plea, the politician's scepter, and the drummer's ablest assistant. Handmaiden, a manicure. The tiresome product of a tireless tongue. Angor, pain. Painful to hear. Hence, full of strains. Hash. Hatch. To develop eggs. Hatchway. Place for developing eggs. A hen coop. Hay fever. A heart trouble caused by falling in love with a grass widow. Hearsay. Heard on the dead. Hearse. A handsome vehicle in which the man who has always been a tail-ender is finally permitted to lead the procession. Heart. Heart. A bloody organ. Kept in a trunk. Played by beats and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. Heave. To raise. Heaven. A good place to be raised to. Hedge. A fence. Hedgehog. One who hogs the fences. A bill poster. Hell. Poverty. Heredity. The cause of all our faults. Once held by Hobson and Dewey. Now carried by Mother Eddie and Brother Dowie. Hip. A popular location for the retail liquor business. History. The evil that men do. Hit. A chance for first place. First base or first blood. In Germany they generally hock the Kaiser. The Scottish national hymn. Hop. To skip. Hope. A desire for better things to come that makes a grass widow willing to try it again. Hornet. Still sharper. Horse sense. A degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races. Hose. Man's excuse for wetting the walk. Hosiery. A woman's excuse for walking in the wet. Hotel. A place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters. House cleaning. A domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs. Hug. A roundabout way of expressing affection. Humor. An outbreak, either of skin or brains, frequently branded as rash. Hunger. Ability to eat in a night lunch cart. Husband. The next thing to a wife. Hussey. Woman. And bond. Tie. Tied to a woman. Woman." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-121726_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.7, "ms": 14848.4, "words": 389, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "hair dresser a linguist whose position in life enables him to do his head work with his hands hammer A small, busy implement, carried by blacksmiths, geologists, and knockers for breaking iron, rock, or friendship. Also a popular contrivance whereby lovemaking may be suspended but not stopped during the picnic season. hand a much-desired possession supplied by the damsel or the dealer glad hand the beggar's plea the politician's sceptre and the drummer's ablest assistant handmaiden a manicure harangue the tiresome product of a tireless tongue angor pain painful to hear hence full of strains Hash. Hatch. To develop eggs. Hatchway. Place for developing eggs. A hen coop. hay fever a heart trouble caused by falling in love with a grass widow hearsay heard on the dead hearse a handsome vehicle in which the man who has always been a tail-ender is finally permitted to lead the procession Heart, a bloody organ, kept in a trunk, played by beats, and enjoyed only after it is lost or given away. Heave, to raise. Heaven, a good place to be raised to. Hedge, a fence. Hedgehog. One who hogs the fences. A bill poster. Hell. Poverty. Heredity. The cause of all our faults. Once held by Hobson and Dewey, now carried by Mother Eddie and Brother Dowie. hip a popular location for the retail liquor business history the evil that men do \"Hit.\" A chance for first place, first base, or first blood. In Germany they generally \"hawk the Kaiser.\" the scottish national hymn hop to skip hope a desire for better things to come that makes a grass widow willing to try it again \"'Hornet. Still sharper. Horse sense. A degree of wisdom that keeps one from betting on the races.' hose man's excuse for wetting the walk hosiery a woman's excuse for walking in the wet hotel a place where a guest often gives up good dollars for poor quarters housecleaning a domestic upheaval that makes it easy for the government to enlist all the soldiers it needs hug a roundabout way of expressing affection humour an outbreak either of skin or brains frequently branded as rash hunger ability to eat in a night lunch cart husband the next thing to a wife hussy woman and bond tie tied to a woman" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 8524.4, "words": 410, "errors": 21, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, when I am sometime absent from thy heart, thy beauty and thy years full well befits, for still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won, beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed. And when a woman woos, what woman's son will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? Aye me. But yet thou might'st my seat forbear, and chide thy beauty and thy straying youth, who lead thee in their riot even there, where thou art forced to break a twofold truth. Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, thine by thy beauty being false to me. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye. Thou dost love her, because thou knowest I love her. And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, suffering my friend for my sake to approve her. Then thou, whose shadow, shadows doth make bright, how would thy shadows form, form happy show? To the clear day with thy much clearer light, when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so. All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me. No matter then, although my foot did stand upon the farthest earth removed from thee, for nimble thought can jump both sea and land, as soon as think the place where he would be. But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, to leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, but that so much of earth and water rot. I must attend time's leisure with my moan, receiving not, by elements so slow, but heavy tears, badges of either's woe. My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, a closet never pierced with crystal eyes. But the defendant doth that plea deny, and says in him thy fair appearance lies. But thou, to whom my jewels' trifles are, most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, thou best of dearest, and mine only care, art left the prey of every vulgar thief. Thee have I not locked up in any chest, save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, within the gentle closure of my breast, from whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part. And even thence thou wilt be stolen, I fear, for truth proves thievish, for a prize so dear." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-123852_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 210.31, "ms": 12059.3, "words": 410, "errors": 22, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "those pretty wrongs that liberty commits when i am some time absent from thy heart thy beauty and thy years full well befits for still temptation follows where thou art gentle thou art and therefore to be won beauteous thou art therefore to be assailed and when a woman woos what woman's son will sourly leave her till he have prevailed ay me but yet thou might'st my seat forbear and chide thy beauty and thy straying youth who lead thee in their riot even there where thou art forced to break a twofold truth hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee thine by thy beauty being false to me loving offenders thus i will excuse ye thou dost love her because thou knowest i love her and for my sake even so doth she abuse me suffering my friend for my sake to approve her then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright how would thy shadows form form happy show to the clear day with thy much clearer light when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so all days are nights to see till i see thee and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me no matter then although my foot did stand upon the farthest earth removed from thee for nimble thought can jump both sea and land as soon as think the place where he would be but ah thought kills me that i am not thought to leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone but that so much of earth and water rot i must attend time's leisure with my moan receiving not by elements so slow but heavy tears badges of either's woe my heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie a closet never pierced with crystal eyes but the defendant doth that plea deny and says in him thy fair appearance lies but thou to whom my jewels trifles are most worthy comfort now my greatest grief thou best of dearest and mine only care art left the prey of every vulgar thief thee have i not locked up in any chest save where thou art not though i feel thou art within the gentle closure of my breast from whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part and even thence thou wilt be stolen i fear for truth proves thievish for a prize so dear" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 11651.7, "words": 658, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 4, "text": "The case, I may mention, was that of an apparition in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion, an appearance of a dreadful kind, to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother, and waking her up in the terror of it, waking her not to dissipate his dread and soothe him to sleep again, but to encounter also herself, before she had succeeded in doing so, the same sight that had shaken him. It was this observation that drew from Douglas, not immediately, but later in the evening, a reply that had the interesting consequence to which I call attention. Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited, in fact, till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered, he brought out what was in his mind. I quite agree, in regard to Griffin's ghost, or whatever it was, that its appearing first to the little boy, at so tender an age, adds a particular touch. But it's not the first occurrence of its charming kind that I know to have involved a child. We say, of course, somebody exclaimed, that they give two turns. Also that we want to hear about them. I can see Douglas there before the fire, to which he had got up to present his back, looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets. Nobody but me till now has ever heard. It's quite too horrible. This naturally was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price. And our friend, with quiet art, prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us and going on. It's beyond everything. Nothing at all that I know touches it. For sheer terror, I remember asking. He seemed to say it was not so simple as that. To be really at a loss how to qualify it. He passed his hand over his eyes, made a little wincing grimace. For dreadful dreadfulness. Oh, how delicious! cried one of the women. He took no notice of her. He looked at me, but as if, instead of me, he saw what he spoke of. For general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain. Well, then, I said, just sit right down and begin. He turned round to the fire. Gave a kick to a log. Watched it an instant. Then as he faced us again, I can't begin. I shall have to send to town. There was a unanimous groan at this. And much reproach. After which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, The story's written. I could write to my man and enclose the key. He could send down the packet as he finds it. It was to me in particular that he appeared to propound this. Appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate. He had broken a thickness of ice. The formation of many a winter. Had had his reasons for a long silence. The others resented postponement. But it was just his scruples that charmed me. To this his answer was prompt. Oh, thank God, no. And is the record yours? You took the thing down? Nothing but the impression. I took that here. I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript? Is in old, faded ink. And in the most beautiful hand. He hung fire again. A woman's. She has been dead these twenty years. She sent me the pages in question before she died. They were all listening now. And of course there was somebody to be arched, or at any rate to draw the inference. But if he put the inference by without a smile, it was also without irritation. She was a most charming person. But she was ten years older than I. She was my sister's governess, he quietly said. you" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "121-127105_0000", "speaker": "121", "seconds": 237.39, "ms": 15496.3, "words": 658, "errors": 0, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the case i may mention was that of an apparition in just such an old house as had gathered us for the occasion an appearance of a dreadful kind to a little boy sleeping in the room with his mother and waking her up in the terror of it waking her not to dissipate his dread and soothe him to sleep again but to encounter also herself before she had succeeded in doing so the same sight that had shaken him it was this observation that drew from douglas not immediately but later in the evening a reply that had the interesting consequence to which i call attention Someone else told a story not particularly effective, which I saw he was not following. We waited, in fact, till two nights later, but that same evening, before we scattered, he brought out what was in his mind i quite agree in regard to griffin's ghost or whatever it was that its appearing first to the little boy at so tender an age adds a particular touch but it's not the first occurrence of its charming kind that i know to have involved a child we say of course somebody exclaimed that they give two turns also that we want to hear about them i can see douglas there before the fire to which he had got up to present his back looking down at his interlocutor with his hands in his pockets nobody but me till now has ever heard it's quite too horrible this naturally was declared by several voices to give the thing the utmost price and our friend with quiet art prepared his triumph by turning his eyes over the rest of us and going on it's beyond everything nothing at all that i know touches it for sheer terror i remember asking he seemed to say it was not so simple as that to be really at a loss how to qualify it he passed his hand over his eyes made a little wincing grimace for dreadful dreadfulness oh how delicious cried one of the women he took no notice of her he looked at me but as if instead of me he saw what he spoke of for general uncanny ugliness and horror and pain well then i said just sit right down and begin he turned round to the fire gave a kick to a log watched it an instant then as he faced us again i can't begin i shall have to send to town there was a unanimous groan at this and much reproach After which, in his preoccupied way, he explained, The story's written. I could write to my man and enclose the key. He could send down the packet as he finds it. it was to me in particular that he appeared to propound this appeared almost to appeal for aid not to hesitate he had broken a thickness of ice the formation of many a winter had had his reasons for a long silence the others resented postponement but it was just his scruples that charmed me to this his answer was prompt oh thank god no and is the record yours you took the thing down nothing but the impression I took that here. He tapped his heart. I've never lost it. Then your manuscript is in old faded ink. and in the most beautiful hand he hung fire again a woman's she has been dead these twenty years she sent me the pages in question before she died they were all listening now and of course there was somebody to be arch or at any rate to draw the inference but if he put the inference by without a smile it was also without irritation she was a most charming person but she was ten years older than i she was my sister's governess he quietly said" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 11174.5, "words": 633, "errors": 13, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We have as yet hardly spoken of the infant, that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of providence a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion. How strange it seemed to the sad woman, as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day more brilliant, and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child. Her pearl, for so had Tester called her, not as a name expressive of her aspect, which had nothing of the calm, white, unimpassioned luster that would be indicated by the comparison. But she named the infant pearl as being of great price, purchased with all she had, her mother's only treasure. How strange, indeed! Man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful like herself. God, as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished, had given her a lovely child, whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent forever with the race and descent of mortals, and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven. Yet these thoughts affected Hester Prynne less with hope than apprehension. She knew that her deed had been evil. She could have no faith, therefore, that its result would be good. Day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature, ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being. Certainly there was no physical defect. By its perfect shape, its vigor, and its natural dexterity, and the use of all its untried limbs, the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in Eden, worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out. The child had a native grace which does not invariably coexist with faultless beauty. Its attire, however simple, always impressed the beholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best. But little Pearl was not clad in rustic weeds. Her mother, with a morbid purpose, that may be better understood hereafter, had bought the richest tissues that could be procured, and allowed her imaginative faculty its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses which the child wore before the public eye. So magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed, and such was the splendor of Pearl's own proper beauty, shining through the gorgeous robes which might have extinguished a paler loveliness, that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her, on the darksome cottage floor. And yet a russet gown, torn and soiled with the child's rude play, made a picture of her just as perfect. Pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety. In this one child there were many children, comprehending the full scope between the wildflower prettiness of a peasant baby and the pomp, in little, of an infant princess. Throughout all, however, there was a trait of passion, a certain depth of hue which she never lost, and if in any of her changes she had grown fainter or paler, she would have ceased to be herself, it would have been no longer Pearl. This outward mutability indicated, and did not more than fairly express, the various properties of her inner life. Her nature appeared to possess depth, too, as well as variety, but, or else Hester's fears deceived her, it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born. The child could not be made amenable to rules. and" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135766_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 232.55, "ms": 13183.7, "words": 633, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "we have as yet hardly spoken of the infant that little creature whose innocent life had sprung by the inscrutable decree of providence a lovely and immortal flower out of the rank luxuriance of a guilty passion how strange it seemed to the sad woman as she watched the growth and the beauty that became every day more brilliant and the intelligence that threw its quivering sunshine over the tiny features of this child her pearl for so had tester called her not as a name expressive of her aspect which had nothing of the calm white unimpassioned luster that would be indicated by the comparison but she named the infant pearl as being of great price purchased with all she had her mother's only treasure how strange indeed man had marked this woman's sin by a scarlet letter which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her save it were sinful like herself god as a direct consequence of the sin which man thus punished had given her a lovely child whose place was on that same dishonored bosom to connect her parent forever with the race and descent of mortals and to be finally a blessed soul in heaven yet these thoughts affected hester pryn less with hope than apprehension she knew that her deed had been evil she could have no faith therefore that its result would be good day after day she looked fearfully into the child's expanding nature ever dreading to detect some dark and wild peculiarity that should correspond with the guiltiness to which she owed her being certainly there was no physical defect by its perfect shape its vigor and its natural dexterity in the use of all its untried limbs the infant was worthy to have been brought forth in eden worthy to have been left there to be the plaything of the angels after the world's first parents were driven out the child had a native grace which does not invariably co-exist with faultless beauty its attire however simple always impressed the beholder as if it were the very garb that precisely became it best but little pearl was not clad in rustic weeds her mother with a morbid purpose that may be better understood hereafter had bought the richest tissues that could be procured and allowed her imaginative faculty its full play in the arrangement and decoration of the dresses which the child wore before the public eye so magnificent was the small figure when thus arrayed and such was the splendor of pearl's own proper beauty shining through the gorgeous robes which might have extinguished a paler loveliness that there was an absolute circle of radiance around her on the darksome cottage floor and yet a russet gown torn and soiled with the child's rude play made a picture of her just as perfect pearl's aspect was imbued with a spell of infinite variety in this one child there were many children comprehending the full scope between the wild flower prettiness of a peasant baby and the pomp in little of an infant princess throughout all however there was a trait of passion a certain depth of hue which she never lost and if in any of her changes she had grown fainter or paler she would have ceased to be herself it would have been no longer pearl this outward mutability indicated and did not more than fairly express the various properties of her inner life her nature appeared to possess depth too as well as variety but or else hester's fears deceived her it lacked reference and adaptation to the world into which she was born the child could not be made amenable to rules" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 10537.1, "words": 604, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "hester prynne went one day to the mansion of governor bellingham with a pair of gloves which she had fringed and embroidered to his order and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state for though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank he still held an honourable and influential place among the colonial magistracy another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled hester at this time to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement it had reached her ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government to deprive her of her child on the supposition that pearl as already hinted was of demon origin these good people not unreasonably argued that a christian interest in the mother's soul required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path among those who promoted the design governor bellingham was said to be one of the most busy it may appear singular and indeed not a little ludicrous that an affair of this kind which in later days would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the select men of the town should then have been a question publicly discussed and on which statesmen of eminence took sides at that epoch of pristine simplicity however matters of even slighter public interest and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of hester and her child were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state the period was hardly if at all earlier than that of our story when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature little pearl of course was her companion often nevertheless more from caprice than necessity she demanded to be taken up in arms but was soon as imperious to be let down again and frisked onward before hester on the grassy pathway with many a harmless trip and tumble we have spoken of pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty a beauty a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints a bright complexion eyes possessing intensity both of depth and glow and hair already of a deep glossy brown and which in after years would be nearly akin to black there was fire in her and throughout her she seemed the unpremeditated off-shoot of a passionate moment her mother in contriving the child's garb had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination their full play arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread but it was a remarkable attribute of this garb and indeed of the child's whole appearance that it irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which hester pryn was doomed to wear upon her bosom it was the scarlet letter in another form the scarlet letter endowed with life the mother herself as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form had carefully wrought out the similitude lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1221-135767_0000", "speaker": "1221", "seconds": 227.91, "ms": 12154.5, "words": 604, "errors": 3, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "hester prynne went one day to the mansion of governor bellingham with a pair of gloves which she had fringed and embroidered to his order and which were to be worn on some great occasion of state for though the chances of a popular election had caused this former ruler to descend a step or two from the highest rank he still held an honorable and influential place among the colonial magistracy another and far more important reason than the delivery of a pair of embroidered gloves impelled hester at this time to seek an interview with a personage of so much power and activity in the affairs of the settlement it had reached your ears that there was a design on the part of some of the leading inhabitants cherishing the more rigid order of principles in religion and government to deprive her of her child on the supposition that pearl as already hinted was of demon origin these good people not unreasonably argued that a christian interest in the mother's soul required them to remove such a stumbling block from her path among those who promoted the design governor bellingham was said to be one of the most busy it may appear singular and indeed not a little ludicrous that an affair of this kind which in later days would have been referred to no higher jurisdiction than that of the select men of the town should then have been a question publicly discussed and on which statesmen of eminence took sides at that epoch of pristine simplicity however matters of even slighter public interest and of far less intrinsic weight than the welfare of hester and her child were strangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators and acts of state The period was hardly, if at all, earlier than that of our story, when a dispute concerning the right of property in a pig not only caused a fierce and bitter contest in the legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an important modification of the framework itself of the legislature. little pearl of course was her companion often nevertheless more from caprice than necessity she demanded to be taken up in arms but was soon as imperious to be let down again and frisked onward before hester on the grassy pathway with many a harmless trip and tumble we have spoken of pearl's rich and luxuriant beauty a beauty that shone with deep and vivid tints a bright complexion eyes possessing intensity both of depth and glow and hair already of a deep glossy brown and which in after years would be nearly akin to black there was fire in her and throughout her she seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment her mother in contriving the child's garb had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of her imagination their full play arraying her in a crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut abundantly embroidered in fantasies and flourishes of gold thread but it was a remarkable attribute of this garb and indeed of the child's whole appearance that it irresistibly and inevitably reminded the beholder of the token which hester pryn was doomed to wear upon her bosom it was the scarlet letter in another form the scarlet letter endowed with life the mother herself as if the red ignominy were so deeply scorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed its form had carefully wrought out the similitude lavishing many hours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between the object of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 11150.2, "words": 708, "errors": 19, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Just at dawn next morning, Unk Nunky laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him. Come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist, and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown and a flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the munchkin country of the land of Oz, so Unk Nunky's dress was much like that of his nephew. Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops, and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid. The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread, and supposed the old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry, though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh, cool water from the brook. Unk put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said, as he walked out through the doorway, Come. Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods and wanted to travel and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful land of Oz in which they lived. When they were outside, Ung simply latched the door and started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone came so far into the thick forest while they were gone. At the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the Munchkins from the country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left and the other to the right, straight up the mountain. Unk Nunky took this right-hand path and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician, whom he had never seen but who was their nearest neighbor. All the morning they trudged up the mountain path, and at noon Unk and Ojo sat on a fallen tree trunk and ate the last of the bread which the old Munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again, and two hours later came in sight of the house of Dr. Pipt. There was a pretty garden around the house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower beds, and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest, which completely surrounded it. Unk knocked at the door of the house, and a chubby, pleasant-faced woman, dressed all in blue, opened it, and greeted the visitors with a smile. I am, my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home. He's very busy just now, she said, shaking her head doubtfully. But come in, and let me give you something to eat, for you must have traveled far in order to get to our lonely place. We have, replied Ojo, as he and Unk entered the house. We have come from a far lonelier place than this. A lonelier place? And in the Munchkin country? She exclaimed. Then it must be somewhere in the blue forest. It is good day, Margolot. Dear me, she said, looking at the man. You must be Unk Nunky, known as the Silent One. Then she looked at the boy. And you must be Ojo the Unlucky, she added. Yes, said Unk. I never knew I was called the Unlucky, said Ojo soberly. But it is really a good name for me. I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind, and perhaps the chance will come to you, she replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1180_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.1, "ms": 13601.2, "words": 708, "errors": 25, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Just at dawn next morning, Unk Nunky laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him. Come, he said. Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist, and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. his hat had a peaked crown at a flat brim and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved this was the native costume of those who inhabited the munchkin country of the land of oz so unkinunky's dress was much like that of his nephew instead of shoes the old man wore boots with turnover tops and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid the boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread and supposed the old man had not been hungry Ojo was hungry, though, so he divided the piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh, cool water from the brook. Unk put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said, as he walked out through the doorway, \"Come.\" o jo was well pleased he was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods and wanted to travel and see people for a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful land of oz in which they lived when they were outside ung simply latched the door and started up the path no one would disturb their little house even if any one came so far into the thick forest while they were gone at the foot of the mountain that separated the country of the munchkins from the country of the gillikins the path divided one way led to the left and the other to the right straight up the mountain unknunkey took this right-hand path and ojo followed without asking why he knew it would take them to the house of the crooked magician whom he had never seen but who was their nearest neighbor all the morning they trudged up the mountain path and at noon unk and ojo sat on a fallen tree-trunk and ate the last of the bread which the old munchkin had placed in his pocket then they started on again and two hours later came in sight of the house of dr There was a pretty garden around the house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance, and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots, and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable and flower-beds and a wider path led up to the front door the place was in a clearing on the mountain but a little way off was the grim forest which completely surrounded it Unk knocked at the door of the house, and a chubby, pleasant-faced woman, dressed all in blue, opened it, and greeted the visitors with a smile. \"'I am, my dear, and all strangers are welcome to my home.' \"He is very busy just now,\" she said, shaking her head doubtfully. \"But come in and let me give you something to eat, for you must have travelled far in order to get to our lonely place.\" \"We have,\" replied Ojo, as he and Unk entered the house. \"We have come from a far lonelier place than this.\" a lonelier place and in the munchkin country she exclaimed then it must be somewhere in the blue forest it is good-day margolot dear me she said looking at the man you must be onk nunky known as the silent one then she looked at the boy and you must be ojo the unlucky she added \"Yes,\" said Unk. \"I never knew I was called the Unlucky,\" said Ojo soberly. \"But it is really a good name for me.\" \"I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind, and perhaps the chance will come to you,\" she replied. Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 10638.2, "words": 699, "errors": 17, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder. The patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolot had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt, and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets in it, using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed and stuffed and stitched at the edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve as fingernails. She will have to work when she comes to life, said Margolot. The head of the patchwork girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life, the woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender buttons, cut from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolot had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly. But finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal. Gold is the most common metal in the land of Oz, and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. The woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue. This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, and Margolot was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful, for one cheek was yellow and the other red, her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the center, where her nose had been formed and padded, a bright yellow. \"You ought to have had her face all pink,\" suggested the boy. \"I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth,\" replied the woman. \"Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful rather than ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patched face, I can whitewash it.\" \"Has she any brains?\" asked Ojo. \"No, I forgot all about the brains,\" exclaimed the woman. \"I'm glad you reminded me of them, for it is not too late to supply them by any means. Until she is brought to life, I can do anything I please with this girl. But I must be careful not to give her too much brains, and those she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good.\" \"I'm wrong,\" said Unknunky. \"No, I'm sure I'm right about that,\" returned the woman. \"Well, that may be true,\" agreed Margolot. \"But on the contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high and mighty, and feel above her work. I want her to know just enough, but not too much.\" With this she went to another cupboard, which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly labeled by the magician to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked \"Brain Furniture,\" and the bottles on this shelf were labeled as follows: Obedience, Cleverness, Judgment, Courage, Ingenuity, Amiability, Learning, Truth, Poesy, Self-Reliance. \"Let me see,\" said Margolot. \"Of those qualities she must have obedience first of all.\" And she took down the bottle bearing that label, and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents. \"And" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-1181_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 239.56, "ms": 14073.1, "words": 699, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder the patchwork girl was taller than he when she stood upright and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton margolot had first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets in it using the same gay material throughout upon the feet she had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes all the fingers and thumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed and stuffed and stitched at the edges with gold plates at the ends to serve as finger-nails \"She will have to work when she comes to life,\" said Margolot. The head of the patchwork girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making his powder of life, The woman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender buttons, cut from a pair of the magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. margolot had puzzled over the ears for some time for these were important if the servant was to hear distinctly but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the metal gold is the most common metal in the land of oz and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable the woman had cut a slit for the patchwork girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it for teeth using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue this mouth o jo considered very artistic and lifelike and margalot was pleased when the boy praised it there were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictly beautiful for one cheek was yellow and the other red her chin blue, her forehead purple, and the center, where her nose had been formed and padded, a bright yellow. You ought to have had her face all pink, suggested the boy. \"'I suppose so, but I had no pink cloth,' replied the woman. \"'Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my patchwork girl to be useful rather than ornamental. \"'If I get tired looking at her patched face, I can whitewash it.' \"'Has she any brains?' asked Ojo. no i forgot all about the brains exclaimed the woman i'm glad you reminded me of them for it is not too late to supply them by any means until she is brought to life i can do anything i please with this girl but i must be careful not to give her too much brains and those she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life in other words her brains mustn't be very good wrong said unknunky no i'm sure i'm right about that returned the woman well that may be true agreed margolot but on the contrary a servant with too much brains is sure to become independent and high and mighty and feel above her work i want her to know just enough but not too much with this she went to another cupboard which was filled with shelves all the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles neatly labelled by the magician to show what they contained One whole shelf was marked \"Brain Furniture,\" and the bottles on this shelf were labeled as follows: Obedience, Cleverness, Judgment, Courage, Ingenuity, Amiability, learning truth poesy self-reliance let me see said margolot of those qualities she must have obedience first of all and she took down the bottle bearing that label and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 9855.2, "words": 594, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the Orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty of the civil magistrate. The Edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration, had confirmed to each individual of the Roman world the privilege of choosing and professing his own religion. But this inestimable privilege was soon violated with the knowledge of truth, the emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution, and the sects which dissented from the Catholic Church were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily believed that the heretics, who presumed to dispute his opinions or to oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy, and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation. Not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the Orthodox clergy. Some of the penal regulations were copied from the Edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felt the hand of oppression and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry. Before he condemned the Manichaeans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles. The advantage which Sicilian might claim from the priority of his ordination was destroyed by the illegal, or at least indecent, haste with which it had been performed, without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia. From their mutual reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the African Christians. That divided church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature. The controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by the emperor, and the whole proceeding, from the first appeal to the final sentence, lasted above three years. The honors and estates of the church were attributed to his suffrican bishops, and it was not without difficulty that Constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the Donatist faction. As their cause was examined with attention, perhaps it was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without foundation that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favorite osius. They asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation, that the apostolical succession was interrupted, that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism, and that the prerogatives of the Catholic Church were confined to the chosen portion of the African believers, who alone had preserved inviolate the integrity of their faith and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct. Bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance, before they could be admitted to the communion of the Donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their Catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1284-134647_0000", "speaker": "1284", "seconds": 232.15, "ms": 13930.6, "words": 594, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave them security, wealth, honors, and revenge, and the support of the Orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty. of the civil magistrate the edict of milan the great charter of toleration had confirmed to each individual of the roman world the privilege of choosing and professing his own religion but this inestimable privilege was soon violated with the knowledge of truth the emperor imbibed the maxims of persecution and the sects which dissented from the catholic church were afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of christianity Constantine easily believed that the heretics, who presumed to dispute his opinions or to oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal obstinacy. and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation not a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities which the emperor had so liberally bestowed on the orthodox clergy. Some of the penal regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian, and this method of conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felt the hand of oppression and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry. before he condemned the manichaeans and their kindred sects he resolved to make an accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles the advantage which cecilian might claim from the priority of his ordination was destroyed by the illegal or at least indecent haste with which it had been performed without expecting the arrival of the bishops of numidia from their mutual reproaches as well as from the story of this dark transaction it may justly be inferred that the late persecution had embittered the zeal without reforming the manners of the african christians that divided church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature the controversy was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals which were appointed by the emperor and the whole proceeding from the first appeal to the final sentence lasted above three years the honors and estates of the church were attributed to his suffrican bishops and it was not without difficulty that constantine was satisfied with inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the donatist faction as their cause was examined with attention perhaps it was determined with justice perhaps their complaint was not without foundation that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the insidious art of his favorite osius they asserted with confidence and almost with exultation that the apostolical succession was interrupted that all the bishops of europe and asia were infected by the contagion of guilt and schism and that the prerogatives of the catholic church were confined to the chosen portion of the african believers who alone had preserved inviolate the integrity of their faith and discipline This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable conduct. Bishops, virgins, and even spotless infants were subjected to the disgrace of a public penance before they could be admitted to the communion of the Donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by their Catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 11290.9, "words": 668, "errors": 24, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 16, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 16, "text": "The party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the states than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of the Hudson, the Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth, with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours the travelers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star or following the direction of some watercourse, until the scout called a halt, and, holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Monroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest when the travelers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were frequent and earnest. During one of these conferences, Hayward observed that Unca stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the young chief and demand his opinion of their progress, but the calm and dignified demeanor of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. When I found that the home path of the Hurons run north, he said, it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys and keep between the waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here are we, within a short range of the Skaroons, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed. Heaven protect us from such an error, exclaimed Duncan. Let us retrace our steps and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait? The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and, motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement, and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. \"'Tis the trail!\" exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot. \"'The lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years.\" \"'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long,\" muttered Duncan at his elbow. \"'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long,' muttered Duncan at his elbow." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122612_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 236.58, "ms": 12722.2, "words": 668, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the party had landed on the border of a region that is even to this day less known to the inhabitants of the states than the deserts of arabia or the steppes of tartary it was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tributaries of champlain from those of the hudson the mohawk and the st lawrence Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settlements, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever known even now to penetrate its wild recesses. as hawkeye and the mohicans had however often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilderness they did not hesitate to plunge into its depth with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties for many hours the travelers toiled on their laborious way guided by a star or following the direction of some water-course until the scout called a halt and holding a short consultation with the indians they lighted their fire and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were Imitating the example and emulating the confidence of their more experienced associates, Monroe and Duncan slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed the mists and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest when the travelers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawkeye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees, nor did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, \"'the velocity and the color of its waters. \"'Distrusting his own judgment, \"'his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook \"'were frequent and earnest. \"'During one of these conferences, \"'Hayward observed that Uncas stood a patient and silent, \"'though, as he imagined, an interested listener.' he was strongly tempted to address the young chief and demand his opinion of their progress but the calm and dignified demeanour of the native induced him to believe that like himself the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party at last the scout spoke in english and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation when i found that the home path of the hurons run north he said it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys and keep between the waters of the hudson and the horican until they might strike the springs of the canada streams which would lead them into the heart of the country of the frenchers yet here are we within a short range of the skaroons and not a sign of a trail have we crossed. \"'Heaven, protect us from such an error!' exclaimed Duncan. \"'Let us retrace our steps and examine as we go, with keener eyes. \"'Haz Uncus no counsel to offer in such a strait?' the young mohican cast a glance at his father but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien he continued silent chingachgook had caught the look and motioning with his hand he bade him speak The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncus changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, he sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth, that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected movement and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. \"'Tis the trail!' exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot. the lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long muttered duncan at his elbow" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 11330.5, "words": 712, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "But let me play the lion too, Midsummer Night's Dream. Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye, he fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur. In his return to the camp, his acute and practiced intellects were intently engaged in devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own. Nothing but the color of his skin had saved the lives of Magwa and the Conjurer, who would have been the first victim sacrificed to his own security had not the scout believed such an act, however congenial it might be to the nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy of one who boasted a descent from men that knew no cross of blood. A neglected hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed, most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites such as wood or water. A faint light glimmered through its cracks, however, and announced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it was not without a tenant. Thither then the scout proceeded like a prudent general who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack. Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior. It proved to be the abiding place of David Gamet. Hither the faithful singing master had now brought himself, together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions, and his meek dependence on the protection of providence. At the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout, in the manner just mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in his assumed character, was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections. However implicit the faith of David was in the performance of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality. In other words, while he had implicit faith in the ability of Balaam's ass to speak, he was somewhat skeptical on the subject of a bear's singing, and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his arm, in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately described, except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors. The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman, was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation. First, making the circuit of the hut, and ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors, he ventured through its low door into the very presence of Gamut. The position of the latter brought the fire between them, and when Hawkeye had seated himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking. The suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for, we will not say the philosophy, but for the pitch and resolution of David. He fumbled for his pitch-pipe, and arose with the confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism. The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well-known voice replied, Five words of plain and comprehensible English are worth just now an hour of squalling. What art thou? demanded David, utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention, and nearly gasping for breath. A man like yourself, and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as your own. you" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1320-122617_0000", "speaker": "1320", "seconds": 237.48, "ms": 13437.5, "words": 712, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "\"But let me play the lion too, Midsummer Night's Dream.\" Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkeye, he fully comprehended all the difficulties and danger he was about to incur. in his return to the camp his acute and practiced intellects were intently engaged in devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspicion on the part of his enemies that he knew were in no degree inferior to his own nothing but the color of his skin had saved the lives of magua and the conjurer who would have been the first victims sacrificed to his own security had not the scout believed such an act however congenial it might be to the nature of an indian utterly unworthy of one who boasted a descent from men that knew no cross of blood a neglected hut was a little in advance of the others and appeared as if it had been deserted when half completed most probably on account of failing in some of the more important requisites such as wood or water a faint light glimmered through its cracks however and announced that notwithstanding its imperfect structure it was not without a tenant thither then the scout proceeded like a prudent general who was about to feel the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded the main attack throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast he represented hawkeye crawled to a little opening where he might command a view of the interior it proved to be the abiding place of david gamet hither the faithful singing-master had now brought himself together with all his sorrows his apprehensions and his meek dependence on the protection of providence at the precise moment when his ungainly person came under the observation of the scout in the manner just mentioned the woodsman himself though in his assumed character was the subject of the solitary being's profounded reflections however implicit the faith of david was in the performance of ancient miracles he eschewed the belief of any direct supernatural agency in the management of modern morality in other words while he had implicit faith in the ability of balaam's ass to speak he was somewhat sceptical on the subject of a bear's singing and yet he had been assured of the latter on the testimony of his own exquisite organs there was something in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout the utter confusion of the state of his mind he was seated on a pile of brush a few twigs from which occasionally fed his low fire with his head leaning on his arm in a posture of melancholy musing the costume of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration from that so lately described except that he had covered his bald head with the triangular beaver which had not proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any of his captors the ingenious hawkeye who recalled the hasty manner in which the other had abandoned his post at the bedside of the sick woman was not without his suspicions concerning the subject of so much solemn deliberation first making the circuit of the hut and ascertaining that it stood quite alone and that the character of its inmate was likely to protect it from visitors he ventured through its low door into the very presence of gamut the position of the latter brought the fire between them and when hawkeye had seated himself on end near a minute elapsed during which the two remained regarding each other without speaking the suddenness and the nature of the surprise had nearly proved too much for we will not say the philosophy but for the pitch and resolution of david he fumbled for his pitch-pipe and arose with the confused intention of attempting a musical exorcism the bear shook his shaggy sides and then a well-known voice replied five words of plain and comprehensible english are worth just now an hour of squalling what art thou demanded david utterly disqualified to pursue his original intention and nearly gasping for breath a man like yourself and one whose blood is as little tainted by the cross of a bear or an indian as your own" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 12148.4, "words": 777, "errors": 15, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion, the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavor in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place or give a clue as to the people concerned. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred. I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss what to do. I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police. No, no, my dear sir, such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked, it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can. My friend's temper had not improved, since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrapbooks, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story. I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that tomorrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue scholarship. I am one of the examiners. For this reason, great care is taken to keep the paper secret. Today, about three o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrive from the printers. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four-thirty, my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather more than an hour. As I approached my outer door, I was amazed to see a key in it. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences. The moment I looked at my table, I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it. Holmes stirred for the first time. The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it, said he. Exactly, Mr. Holmes, you amaze me. How could you possibly know that? Pray, continue your very interesting statement. For an instant, I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows. He said," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141083_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 236.08, "ms": 13153.7, "words": 777, "errors": 15, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "it will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive so painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out with due discretion the incident itself may however be described since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable i will endeavor in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place or give a clue as to the people concerned here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance mr hilton solmes tutor and lecturer at the college of st luke's i had always known him to be restless in his manner but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred i trust mr holmes that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time we have had a very painful incident at st luke's and really but for the happy chance of your being in town i should have been at a loss what to do i should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police no no my dear sir such a course is utterly impossible when once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again and this is just one of those cases where for the credit of the college it is most essential to avoid scandal \"'Your discretion is as well known as your powers, \"'and you are the one man in the world who can help me. \"'I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can.' \"'My friend's temper had not improved, \"'since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street.' without his scrapbooks his chemicals and his homely untidiness he was an uncomfortable man he shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence while our visitor in hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his story i must explain to you mr holmes that to-morrow is the first day of the examination for the fortescue scholarship i am one of the examiners for this reason great care is taken to keep the paper secret today about three o'clock the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers i had to read it over carefully as the text must be absolutely correct at four thirty my task was not yet completed i had however promised to take tea in a friend's rooms so i left the proof upon my desk i was absent rather more than an hour as i approached my outer door i was amazed to see a key in it the only duplicate which existed so far as i knew was that which belonged to my servant banister a man who has looked after my room for ten years and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion i found that the key was indeed his that he had entered my room to know if i wanted tea and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when he came out his visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it his forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion but on this one day it has produced the most deplorable consequences the moment i looked at my table i was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers the proof was in three long slips i had left them all together now i found that one of them was lying on the floor one was on the side table near the window and the third was where i had left it holmes stirred for the first time the first page on the floor the second in the window the third where you left it said he exactly mr holmes you amaze me how could you possibly know that pray continue your very interesting statement for an instant i imagined that banister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers he denied it however with the utmost earnestness and i am convinced that he was speaking the truth the alternative was that some one passing had observed the key in the door had known that i was out and had entered to look at the papers a large sum of money is at stake for the scholarship is a very valuable one and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 16650.7, "words": 738, "errors": 25, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 5, "text": "\"'Your three birds are all in their nests,' said Holmes, looking up. \"'Hallo! What's that? One of them seems restless enough.' It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. \"'I should like to have a peep at each of them,' said Holmes. \"'Is it possible?' \"'No difficulty in the world,' Soames answered. \"'The set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you.' \"'No names, please,' said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. A tall, flaxen-haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian, a silent, little hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us askance, and was obviously glad when Holmes' architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. \"'I don't care who you are. You can go to blazes,' worded the angry voice. \"'A rude fellow,' said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but nonetheless his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed under the circumstances rather suspicious. \"'Can you tell me his exact height?' he asked. \"'Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about it.' \"'That is very important,' said Holmes. \"'And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you good-night.' \"'You don't seem to realize the position. Tomorrow is the examination. I must take some definite action to-night. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced.' \"'You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile, you change nothing. Nothing at all.' \"'Very good, Mr. Holmes.' \"'You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me, also the pencil-cuttings. Good-bye.' When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible. \"'The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart.' He looked at us in a queer way. \"'So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives, always satisfactory. But that fellow does puddle me. Who? Why, Bannister, the servant? What's his game in the matter? He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man. Why should a perfectly honest man? Well, well, well, here's a large stationer, as we shall begin our researches here. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous resignation. \"'No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall. Not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three enterprising students.' Holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner. \"'No good, my dear Watson." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1580-141084_0000", "speaker": "1580", "seconds": 238.86, "ms": 13969.4, "words": 738, "errors": 24, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "your three birds are all in their nests said holmes looking up hallo what's that one of them seems restless enough it was the indian whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind he was pacing swiftly up and down his room i should like to have a peep at each of them said holmes is it possible no difficulty in the world soames answered the set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them come along and i will personally conduct you no names please said holmes as we knocked at gilchrist's door a tall flaxen-haired slim young fellow opened it and made us welcome when he understood our errand there were some really curious pieces of medieval domestic architecture within Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian, a silent, little hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us askance, and was obviously glad when Holmes' architectural studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. \"'I don't care who you are. You can go to blazes,' worded the angry voice. \"'A rude fellow,' said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. Of course he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but nonetheless his conduct was very uncourteous, and indeed under the circumstances rather suspicious. \"'Can you tell me his exact height?' \"'He asked. \"'Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. \"'He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. \"'I suppose five foot six would be about it.' \"'That is very important,' said Holmes. \"'And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you good-night.' \"'You don't seem to realize the position. \"'Tomorrow is the examination. \"'I must take some definite action tonight. \"'I cannot allow the examination to be held \"'if one of the papers has been tampered with. \"'The situation must be faced.' \"'You must leave it as it is.' \"'I shall drop round early to-morrow morning and chat the matter over. \"'It is possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. \"'Meanwhile you change nothing. Nothing at all.' \"'Very good, Mr. Holmes.' \"You can be perfectly easy in your mind. I will take the black clay with me, also the pencil cuttings. Goodbye.\" When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at the windows. the indian still paced his room the others were invisible the foul-mouthed fellow at the top he is the one with the worst record there is nothing in that many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart He looked at us in a queer way. So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives, always satisfactory. But that fellow does puddle me. Who? why banister the servant what's his game in the matter he impressed me as being a perfectly honest man why should a perfectly honest man well well here's a large stationer as we shall begin our researches here my friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous resignation no good my dear watson this the best and only final clue has run to nothing what with your eternal tobacco watson and your irregularity at meals i expect that you will get notice to quit and that i shall share your downfall not however before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor the careless servant and the three enterprising students holmes made no further allusion to the matter of that day though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 10763.3, "words": 645, "errors": 39, "deleted": 25, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 19, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching Negroes. Not that she objected to Negroes as human beings, quite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies, her defense of the 15th Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning, but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith's experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed. Her dream had been a postgraduate course at Bryn Mawr, but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a Western college. The South she had not thought of seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton belt. Better go, he had counseled sententiously. Might learn something useful down there. She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook and had protested against his blunt insistence. But John, there's no society, just elementary work. John had met this objection with, hmm, as he left for his office. Next day, he had returned to the subject. Been looking up Tombs County. Find some crust wells there. Big plantations. Rated at $250,000. Some others, too. Big cotton county. You ought to know, John. If I teach Negroes, I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. Nonsense. Butt in. Show off. Give them your Greek and study cotton. At any rate, I say go. And so, howsoever reluctantly, she had gone. The trial was all she had anticipated, and possibly a bit more. She was a pretty young woman of twenty-three, fair and rather daintily molded. Here she was teaching dirty children, and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was, to her, at times unbearable. Then there was the fact of their color. It was a fact so insistent, so fatal, she almost said at times she could not escape it. Theoretically, she had always treated it with disdainful ease. What's the mere color of a human soul's skin? She had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here, in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark-skinned children, their color struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself less they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in color. She groped for new ways to teach colored brains and marshal colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student. With the other teachers, she had little commerce. She appealed to Miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly, as some memory of the past. Miss Taylor was soon starving for human companionship, for the lighter touches of life and some of its warmth and laughter. She wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in, and mentally anemic. Great as the Negro problem might be as a world problem, it looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1826_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.27, "ms": 12741.5, "words": 645, "errors": 13, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "miss mary taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching negroes not that she objected to negroes as human beings quite the contrary in the debate between the senior societies her defense of the fifteenth amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning but delivered with real enthusiasm nevertheless when the end of the summer came and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at miss smith's experiment in the alabama swamps it must be frankly confessed that miss taylor was disappointed her dream had been a post-graduate course at brenmar but that was out of the question until money was earned She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her specialties in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a Western college. The South she had not thought of seriously, and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. john taylor who had supported her through college was interested in cotton having certain schemes in mind he had been struck by the fact that the smith school was in the midst of the alabama cotton belt better go he had counseled sententiously might learn something useful down there She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook and had protested against his blunt insistence. But John, there's no society, just elementary work. john had met this objection with as he left for his office next day he had returned to the subject been looking up tombs county find some crust wells there big plantations rated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars Some others, too. Big Cotton County. You ought to know, John. If I teach Negroes, I'll scarcely see much of people in my own class. nonsense butt in show off give em your greek and study cotton at any rate i say go and so howsoever reluctantly she had gone the trial was all she had anticipated and possibly a bit more she was a pretty young woman of twenty-three fair and rather daintily molded here she was teaching dirty children and the smell of confused odors and bodily perspiration was to her at times unbearable then there was the fact of their color it was a fact so insistent so fatal she almost said at times she could not escape it theoretically she had always treated it with disdainful ease what's the mere color of a human soul's skin She had cried to a Wellesley audience, and the audience had applauded with enthusiasm. But here in Alabama, brought closely and intimately in touch with these dark-skinned children, Their color struck her at first with a sort of terror. It seemed ominous and forbidding. She found herself shrinking away and gripping herself, lest they should perceive. She could not help but think that in most other things they were as different from her as in color. She groped for new ways to teach colored brains and marshal colored thoughts, and the result was puzzling both to teacher and student. With the other teachers, she had little commerce. She appealed to Miss Taylor's ruddier and daintier vision, but dimly and distantly as some memory of the past. the other teachers were indistinct personalities always very busy and very tired and talking schoolroom with their meals miss taylor was soon starving for human companionship for the lighter touches of life and some of its warmth and laughter She wanted a glance of the new books and periodicals and talk of great philanthropies and reforms. She felt out of the world, shut in and mentally anemic. Great as the Negro problem might be as a world problem, it looked sordid and small at close range." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 10477.6, "words": 674, "errors": 35, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Honorable Charles Smith, Miss Sarah's brother, was walking swiftly uptown from Mr. Easterly's Wall Street office and his face was pale. At last, the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact and he was slated for the Senate. The price he had paid was high. He was to represent the interests of the new trust and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the combine's legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would affect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary, the last constituating a particularly clever artifice which, under the guise of convenience and handling, would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compressed machinery to be supplied, of course, by the trust. As Mr. Smith drew near Mrs. Gray's Murray Hill residence, his face had melted to a cynical smile. After all, why should he care? He had tried independence and philanthropy and failed. Why should he not be as other men? He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything. They were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Cresswell. Did his aristocratic air prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions and promising the influence of his father and the whole Farmers League to the new project? Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscot englowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. There was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without. It made both the fire and the table with its soft linen, gold and silver plate, and twinkling glasses a warming, satisfying sight. Mrs. Gray was a portly woman, inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes, both of which were always rich and costly. She was not herself a notably intelligent woman. She greatly admired intelligence or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others. Her money, too, was to her an ever-worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly and spend philanthropically, a difficult combination. As she awaited her guests, she surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few. Tonight there were, she checked them off on her fingers, Sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer and Lady Crichton, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderpool, Mr. Harry Cresswell and his sister, John Taylor and his sister, and Mr. Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United States Senator from New Jersey. A selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day. Mrs. Gray's chef was high-priced and efficient, and her butler was the envy of many. Consequently, she knew the dinner would be good. To her intense satisfaction, it was far more than this. It was a most agreeable couple of hours. All save perhaps Mr. Smith, unbent, the Englishmen especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious. But if the general pleasure was owing to any one person particularly, it was to Mr. Harry Cresswell. Mrs. Gray had met Southerners before, but not intimately, and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor Negroes, a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was therefore most agreeably surprised to hear Mr. Cresswell express himself so cordially as approving of Negro education. Really now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of amalgamation, do you? He sang. Mr. Cresswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station, filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, it meant terrible danger to Southern white women. Do you believe in some education? Asked Mary Taylor." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1836_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 239.5, "ms": 13520.1, "words": 674, "errors": 33, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the honorable charles smith miss sarah's brother was walking swiftly uptown from mr easterly's wall street office and his face was pale at last the cotton combine was to all appearances an assured fact and he was slated for the senate the price he had paid was high He was to represent the interests of the new trust and sundry favorable measures were already drafted and reposing in the safe of the Combine's legal department. Among others was one relating to child labor, another that would affect certain changes in the tariff, and a proposed law providing for a cotton bale of a shape and dimensions different from the customary. the last constituating a particularly clever artifice which under the guise of convenience in handling would necessitate the installation of entirely new gin and compressed machinery to be supplied of course by the trust as mr smith drew near mrs gray's murray hill residence his face had melted to a cynical smile after all why should he care he had tried independence and philanthropy and failed why should he not be as other men He had seen many others that very day swallow the golden bait and promise everything. They were gentlemen. Why should he pose as better than his fellows? There was young Cresswell. Did his aristocratic air prevent his succumbing to the lure of millions and promising the influence of his father and the whole Farmers League to the new project? Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and rang the bell. The door opened softly. The dark woodwork of the old English wainscot englowed with the crimson flaming of logs in the wide fireplace. there was just the touch of early autumn chill in the air without it made both the fire and the table with its soft linen gold and silver plate and twinkling glasses a warming satisfying sight mrs gray was a portly woman inclined to think much of her dinner and her clothes both of which were always rich and costly she was not herself a notably intelligent woman she greatly admired intelligence or whatever looked to her like intelligence in others Her money, too, was to her an ever-worrying mystery and surprise, which she found herself always scheming to husband shrewdly and spend philanthropically, a difficult combination. As she awaited her guests, she surveyed the table with both satisfaction and disquietude, for her social functions were few. Tonight there were, she checked them off on her fingers, Sir James Crichton, the rich English manufacturer, and Lady Crichton, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderpool, Mr. Harry Cresswell and his sister, john taylor and his sister and mr charles smith whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be united states senator from new jersey a selection of guests that had been determined unknown to the hostess by the meeting of cotton interests earlier in the day mrs gray's chef was high-priced and efficient and her butler was the envy of many consequently she knew the dinner would be good to her intense satisfaction it was far more than this it was a most agreeable couple of hours all save perhaps mr smith unbent the englishman especially and the vanderpools were most gracious but if the general pleasure was owing to any one person particularly it was to mr harry cresswell mrs gray had met southerners before but not intimately and she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to poor negroes a subject she made a point of introducing forthwith she was therefore most agreeably surprised to hear mr cresswell express himself so cordially as approving of negro education Really now, you do not mean to say that there's a danger of amalgamation, do you? He sang. Mr. Cresswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger, but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station, filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, It meant terrible danger to southern white women. Do you believe in some education? asked Mary Taylor." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 10937.6, "words": 654, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "He knew the silver fleece, his and Zora's, must be ruined. It was the first great sorrow of his life. It was not so much the loss of the cotton itself, but the fantasy, the hopes, the dreams built around it. If it failed, would not they fail? But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zora made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days. He pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless leaky cabin with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp. It was a fearful place in the rain, its oozing mud and fetid vapors, its clinging slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chilled their hearts. Yet here his Zora, his poor disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she too knew or knew and cared not or cared and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her all things meant something. Nothing was aimless. Nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him? Or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden, at midday, the sun shot out, hot and still. No breath of air stirred. The sky was like blue steel. The earth steamed. Perhaps if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall. But, pshaw! Where was the use of imagining? The lagoon had been level with the dykes a week ago. And now? He could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled, drowned and rolling beneath the black lake of slime. He must at least see the grave of his hope in Zoras and out of it resurrect new love and strength. Perhaps she too might be there, waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The raindrops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees, flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing and put foot upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island. A great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy. The squares of cotton, sharp-edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath, the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment he paused, stupid, agape, with utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against the tree. The swamp, the eternal swamp, had been drained in its deepest fastness. But how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton! What a marvelous field! But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly, stopping near Zora's oak. Here lay the reading of the riddle. With infinite work and pain, someone had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek, into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight, a hundred yards through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora! And with the thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled, motionless, gray pallid beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips a-moaning. The earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on. The mud splashed and sunlight glistened. He saw long snakes slithering across his path, and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming. And..." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "1995-1837_0000", "speaker": "1995", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 13835.9, "words": 654, "errors": 13, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "he knew the silver fleece his and zora's must be ruined it was the first great sorrow of his life it was not so much the loss of the cotton itself but the fantasy the hopes the dreams built around it if it failed would not they fail But if his own despair was great, his pain at the plight of Zora made it almost unbearable. He did not see her in these seven days. He pictured her huddled there in the swamp in the cheerless leaky cabin with worse than no companions. Ah, the swamp, the cruel swamp. It was a fearful place in the rain, its oozing mud and fetid vapors, its clinging slimy draperies, how they twined about the bones of his victims and chilled their hearts. Yet here his Zora, his poor disappointed child, was imprisoned. Child? Child? The revelation of his love lighted and brightened slowly till it flamed like a sunrise over him and left him in burning wonder. He panted to know if she too knew or knew and cared not or cared and knew not. She was so strange and human a creature. To her all things meant something. Nothing was aimless. Nothing merely happened. Was this rain beating down and back her love for him? Or had she never loved? The world was water veiled in mists. Then of a sudden, at midday, the sun shot out. Hot and still, no breath of air stirred. The sky was like blue steel. The earth steamed. Perhaps if the water had but drained from the cotton, it was so strong and tall, but... pshaw where was the use of imagining the lagoon had been level with the dykes a week ago and now he could almost see the beautiful silver fleece bedraggled drowned and rolling beneath the black lake of slime he must at least see the grave of his hope in zoras and out of it resurrect new love and strength Perhaps she too might be there, waiting, weeping. He started at the thought. He hurried forth sadly. The raindrops were still dripping and gleaming from the trees, flashing back the heavy yellow sunlight. He splashed and stamped along farther and farther onward until he neared the rampart of the clearing and put foot upon the tree bridge. Then he looked down. The lagoon was dry. He stood a moment bewildered, then turned and rushed upon the island. A great sheet of dazzling sunlight swept the place, and beneath lay a mighty mass of olive green, thick, tall, wet, and willowy. The squares of cotton, sharp-edged, heavy, were just about to burst to bowls, and underneath, the land lay carefully drained and black. For one long moment, he paused, stupid, agape. with utter amazement, then leaned dizzily against the tree. The swamp, the eternal swamp, had been drained in its deepest fastness. But how? How? He gazed about, perplexed, astonished. What a field of cotton! What a marvelous field! But how had it been saved? He skirted the island slowly, stopping near Zora's oak, Here lay the reading of the riddle. With infinite work and pain, someone had dug a canal from the lagoon to the creek, into which the former had drained by a long and crooked way, thus allowing it to empty directly. The canal went straight, a hundred yards through stubborn soil, and it was oozing now with slimy waters. He sat down, weak, bewildered, and one thought was uppermost. Zora! And with the thought came a low moan of pain. There she lay, wet, bedraggled. motionless, grey pallid beneath her dark drawn skin, her burning eyes searching restlessly for some lost thing, her lips a-moaning. The earth staggered beneath him as he stumbled on, The mud splashed and sunlight glistened. He saw long snakes slithering across his path and fear struck beasts fleeing before his coming." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 9822.9, "words": 589, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It is a very fine old place of red brick, softened by a pale, powdery lichen, which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity, so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three gables, the windows, and the doorplace. But the windows are patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think, is like the gate. It is never opened. For it is a solid, heavy, handsome door, and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair. And now, the half-weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse-spilled hovel against the left-hand wall come out and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless supposing that it has reference to buckets of milk. A large, open fireplace with rusty dogs in it, and a bare, boarded floor. At the far end, fleeces of wool stacked up. In the middle of the floor, some empty corn bags. That is the furniture of the dining room. And what through the left-hand window? Several clothes horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags. At the edge of this box, there lies a great wooden doll, which, so far as mutilation is concerned, bears a strong resemblance to the finest Greek sculpture, and especially in the total loss of its nose. Near it, there is a little chair and the butt end of a boy's leather, long-lashed whip. The history of the house is plain now. It was once the residence of a country squire, whose family, probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood, got merged in the more territorial name of Donnythorne. But there is always a stronger sense of life when the sun is brilliant after rain. And now he is pouring down his beams and making sparkles among the wet straw, and lighting up every patch of vivid green moss on the red tiles of the cow shed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain into a mirror for the yellow-billed ducks, who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink with as much body in it as possible. For the great barn doors are thrown wide open, and men are busy there mending the harness under the superintendence of Mr. Gobi, the Whittaw, otherwise Saddler, who entertains them with the latest Trettlestone gossip. Hetty Sorrell often took the opportunity, when her aunt's back was turned, of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished surfaces. For the oak table was usually turned up like a screen, and was more for ornament than for use. And she could see herself sometimes in the great round pewter dishes that were arranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table, or in the hobs of the grate which always shone like jasper. Do not suppose, however, that Mrs. Poyser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance. She was a good-looking woman, not more than eight and thirty, of fair complexion and sandy hair, well-shapen, light-footed. The family likeness between her and her niece Dinah Morris, with the contrast between her keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression, might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for a Martha and Mary." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2094-142345_0000", "speaker": "2094", "seconds": 236.03, "ms": 13277.6, "words": 589, "errors": 17, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "it is a very fine old place of red brick softened by a pale powdery lichen which has dispersed itself with happy irregularity so as to bring the red brick into terms of friendly companionship with the limestone ornaments surrounding the three gables, the windows, and the door place. But the windows are patched with wooden panes, and the door, I think, is like the gate. It is never opened. for it is a solid heavy handsome door and must once have been in the habit of shutting with a sonorous bang behind the liveried lackey who had just seen his master and mistress off the grounds in a carriage and pair and now the half-weaned calves that have been sheltering themselves in a gorse-spilled hovel against the left-hand wall come out and set up a silly answer to that terrible bark, doubtless supposing that it has reference to buckets of milk a large open fireplace with rusty dogs in it and a bare boarded floor at the far end fleeces of wool stacked up in the middle of the floor some empty corn bags That is the furniture of the dining room. And what through the left-hand window? Several clothes horses, a pillion, a spinning wheel, and an old box wide open and stuffed full of colored rags. At the edge of this box there lies a great wooden doll which so far as mutilation is concerned bears a strong resemblance to the finest greek sculpture and especially in the total loss of its nose near it there's a little chair and the butt end of a boy's leather long-lashed whip the history of the house is plain now it was once the residence of a country squire whose family probably dwindling down to mere spinsterhood got merged in the more territorial name of donnythorne but there is always a stronger sense of life when the sun is brilliant after rain And now he is pouring down his beams and making sparkles among the wet straw, and lighting up every patch of vivid green moss on the red tiles of the cowshed, and turning even the muddy water that is hurrying along the channel to the drain into a mirror for the yellow billed ducks who are seizing the opportunity of getting a drink with as much body in it as possible for the great barn doors are thrown wide open and men are busy there mending the harness under the superintendence of mr goby the whittah who entertains them with the latest treadleston gossip Hetty Searle often took the opportunity, when her aunt's back was turned, of looking at the pleasing reflection of herself in those polished services. for the oak table was usually turned up like a screen and was more for ornament than for use and she could see herself sometimes in the great round pewter dishes that were arranged on the shelves above the long deal dinner table or in the hobs of the great which always shone like jasper do not suppose however that mrs poyser was elderly or shrewish in her appearance she was a good-looking woman not more than eight and thirty of fair complexion and sandy hair well-shapen light-footed the family likeness between her and her niece dinah morris with the contrast between her keenness and dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression might have served a painter as an excellent suggestion for a martha and mary" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 10336.4, "words": 591, "errors": 27, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Paris plant, like that at the Crystal Palace, was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent, supplying, before it was torn out, no fewer than 3,000 lamps in hotels, churches, stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn Viaduct. There, Messiers Johnson and Hammer put into practice many of the ideas now standard in the art and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the first Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power. It went into service August 15, 1882, about three weeks before the Pearl Street station. The dynamo-electric machine, though small, was robust, for under all the varying speeds of water power and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until 1899, 17 years. But his attention was in reality concentrated closely on the supply of great centers of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime. And except in regard to furnishing isolated plants, he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations. That was left to others and to the application of the alternating current, which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers and, within thoroughly economical limits, transmit thousands of horsepower as much as 200 miles at pressures of 80,000 and 100,000 volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers, Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to get it up to the city. By digging a cheap trench and putting in an insulated cable and connecting such station with the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying low pressure currents to the public, there is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp, fundamental distinction between high pressure alternating current for transmission and low pressure direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison from the financial standpoint if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current. But that made no difference to him, as it was a matter of conviction. And Edison's convictions are granitic, broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them. He is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods, to plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Everything he has done has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture. Burbank and his tribe represent in the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical. circle." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2300-131720_0000", "speaker": "2300", "seconds": 238.51, "ms": 13356.2, "words": 591, "errors": 26, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Paris plant, like that at the Crystal Palace, was a temporary exhibit. The London plant was less temporary, but not permanent, supplying, before it was torn out, no fewer than 3,000 lamps in hotels, churches, stores, and dwellings in the vicinity of Holborn Viaduct. There, Messiers, Johnson, and Hammer put into practice many of the ideas now standard in the art, and secured much useful data for the work in New York, of which the story has just been told. As a matter of fact, the first Edison commercial station to be operated in this country was that at Appleton, Wisconsin, but its only serious claim to notice is that it was the initial one of the system driven by water power. It went into service August 15, 1882, about three weeks before the Pearl Street station. The dynamo electric machine, though small, was robust, For under all the varying speeds of water power and the vicissitudes of the plant to which it belonged, it continued in active use until 1899, 17 years. But his attention was in reality concentrated closely on the supply of great centers of population, a task which he then felt might well occupy his lifetime. and except in regard to furnishing isolated plants he did not pursue further the development of hydroelectric stations that was left to others and to the application of the alternating current which has enabled engineers to harness remote powers and within thoroughly economical limits, transmit thousands of horsepower as much as 200 miles at pressures of 80,000 and 100,000 volts. Owing to his insistence on low pressure, direct current for use in densely populated districts as the only safe and truly universal, profitable way of delivering electrical energy to the consumers Edison has been frequently spoken of as an opponent of the alternating current. This does him an injustice. Why, if we erect a station at the falls, it is a great economy to get it up to the city, By digging a cheap trench and putting in an insulated cable and connecting such station with the central part of Richmond, having the end of the cable come up into the station from the earth and there connected with motors, the power of the falls would be transmitted to these motors. If now the motors were made to run dynamos conveying low pressure currents to the public, there is no possible way whereby this high pressure current could get to the public. In other words, Edison made the sharp, fundamental distinction between high pressure alternating current for transmission and low pressure direct current for distribution. And this is exactly the practice that has been adopted in all the great cities of the country today. There seems no good reason for believing that it will change. It might perhaps have been altogether better for Edison, from the financial standpoint, if he had not identified himself so completely with one kind of current. but that made no difference to him as it was a matter of conviction and edison's convictions are granitic broad as the prairies and free in thought as the winds that swept them he is idiosyncratically opposed to loose and wasteful methods to plans of empire that neglect the poor at the gate. Everything he has done has been aimed at the conservation of energy, the contraction of space, the intensification of culture. Burbank and his tribe represent in the vegetable world, Edison in the mechanical." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 11351.5, "words": 694, "errors": 21, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed, Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work, increased by her absence, loomed up before her, till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning. At night, when no one knew it, the tears would come racing over the poor, forlorn little face and would not be squeezed back. It got to be noticed finally, and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever. The only place, except in front of the grand piano, where Polly approached a state of comparative happiness, was in the greenhouse. Here she would stay, comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics, rejoicing the heart of old Turner the gardener, who since Polly's first rapturous entrance had taken her into his good graces for all time. Every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied, was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers. Even with the music and flowers, the dancing light in the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and the small and spacious rooms with gay and springing step. \"Polly don't like us,\" at last said Van one day in despair. \"Then, dear,\" said Mrs. Whitney, \"you must be kinder to her than ever. Think what it would be for one of you to be away from home, even among friends.\" \"I'd like at first-rate to be away from Percy,\" said Van, reflectively. \"I wouldn't come back in three--no, six weeks.\" \"My son,\" said his Mama, \"just stop and think how badly you would feel if you really couldn't see Percy.\" \"Well,\" said Van, \"and he showed signs of relenting a little at that. But Percy is perfectly awful, Mama. You don't know. And he feels so smart, too,\" he said vindictively. \"Well,\" said Mrs. Whitney, softly, \"let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face.\" \"I don't know,\" said Van, running over in his mind all the possible ways he could think of for entertaining anybody, unless she'd like my new book of travels, \"or my Velocipede,\" he added. \"I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose,\" said his Mama, smiling, \"especially the last. Yet we must think of something.\" But just here Mr. King thought it about time to take manners into his hands. So, with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by, he had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest, it seemed as if she could bear it no longer. If she could only see Franzi for just one moment. \"I shall have to give up,\" she moaned. \"I can't bear it.\" And over went her head on the music rack. \"Where is she?\" said a voice over in front of the piano, in the gathering dusk, unmistakably Mr. King's. \"Oh, she's always at the piano,\" said Van. \"She must be there now, somewhere.\" And then somebody laughed. Then came in the loudest of whispers from little Dick. \"Oh, Jappy, what'll she say?\" \"Hush!\" said one of the other boys. \"Do be still, Dick.\" Polly sat up very straight and whisked off the tears quickly. \"Here, Polly, hold your arms,\" he had only strength to gasp. At this the bundle opened suddenly, and out popped Franzi. \"Here I am. I'm here, Polly.\" But Polly couldn't speak, and if Jasper hadn't caught her just in time, she would have tumbled over backward from the stool, Franzi and all. \"Aren't you glad I've come, Polly?\" asked Franzi, with her little face close to Polly's own. That brought Polly too." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-126133_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 234.8, "ms": 12572.2, "words": 694, "errors": 17, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Yes, it must be confessed, Polly was homesick. All her imaginations of her mother's hard work, increased by her absence, loomed up before her, till she was almost ready to fly home without a minute's warning. at night when no one knew it the tears would come racing over the poor forlorn little face and would not be squeezed back it got to be noticed finally and one and all redoubled their exertions to make everything twice as pleasant as ever the only place except in front of the grand piano where polly approached a state of comparative happiness was in the green-house here she would stay comforted and soothed among the lovely plants and rich exotics Rejoicing the heart of old Turner the gardener, who, since Polly's first rapturous entrance, had taken her into his good graces for all time. Every chance she could steal after practice hours were over, and after the clamorous demands of the boys upon her time were fully satisfied, was seized to fly on the wings of the wind to the flowers. But even with the music and flowers the dancing light in the eyes went down a little, and Polly, growing more silent and pale, moved around with a little droop to the small figure that had only been wont to fly through the wide halls and spacious rooms with gay and springing steps. \"'Polly don't like us,' at last said Van one day in despair. \"'Then, dear,' said Mrs. Whitney, \"'you must be kinder to her than ever. \"'Think what it would be for one of you \"'to be away from home, even among friends.' \"I'd like at first-rate to be away from Percy,\" said Fan, reflectively. \"I wouldn't come back in three--no, six weeks.\" \"My son,\" said his Mama, \"just stop and think how badly you would feel if you really couldn't see Percy.\" \"'Well,' said Van, and he showed signs of relenting a little at that. \"'But Percy is perfectly awful, Mama. You don't know. And he feels so smart, too,' he said vindictively. \"'Well,' said Mrs. Whitney, softly, \"'let's think what we can do for Polly. It makes me feel very badly to see her sad little face.' \"'I don't know,' said Van, running over in his mind all the possible ways he could think of for entertaining anybody, unless she'd like my new book of travels, or my Velocipede,' he added. \"'I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose,' said his mamma, smiling, especially the last. Yet we must think of something.' but just here mr king thought it about time to take manners into his hands so with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was by he had departed after breakfast one day simply saying he shouldn't be back to lunch somehow of all the days when the home feeling was the strongest this day it seemed as if she could bear it no longer if she could only see phronsie for just one moment i shall have to give up she moaned i can't bear it and over went her head on the music rack where is she said a voice over in front of the piano in the gathering dusk unmistakably mr kings oh she's always at the piano said van she must be there now somewhere and then somebody laughed then came in the loudest of whispers from little dick oh chappy what'll she say hush said one of the other boys do be still dick polly sat up very straight and whisked off the tears quickly here polly hold your arms he had only strength to gasp at this the bundle opened suddenly and out popped phronsie here i am i'm here polly but polly couldn't speak and if jasper hadn't caught her just in time she would have tumbled over backward from the stool phronsie and all aren't you glad i've come polly asked phronsie with her little face close to polly's own that brought polly too" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 8810.8, "words": 602, "errors": 14, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Part 2. Neighbouring Fields. It is sixteen years since John Bergson died. His wife now lies beside him, and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat-fields. Could he rise from beneath it, he would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie, which they lifted to make him a bed, has vanished for ever. From the Norwegian graveyard, one looks out over a vast checkerboard, marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light. Telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. From the graveyard gate one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses. The gilded weather-vanes on the big red barns wink at each other, across the green and brown and yellow fields. The divide is now thickly populated. The rich soil yields heavy harvests, the dry, bracing climate, and the smoothness of the land make labour easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring ploughing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length, and the brown earth, with such a strong, clean smell, and such a power of growth and fertility in it, yields itself eagerly to the plough, rolls away from the sheer, not even dimming the brightness of the metal, with a soft, deep sigh of happiness. The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night, as well as all day, and in good seasons there are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back. Like the plains of Lombardy, it seems to rise a little to meet the sun. The air and the earth are curiously mated and intermingled, as if the one were the breath of the other. You feel in the atmosphere the same tonic, puissant quality that is in the tilth, the same strength and resoluteness. One June morning a young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe in strokes unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade, he slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling, but softly, out of respect to the quiet folk about him. Unconscious respect, probably, for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts, and, like the gladiators, they were far away. He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine-tree, with a handsome head and stormy grey eyes deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the cornet in the university band. When the grass required his close attention, or when he had to stoop to cut about a head-stone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel-song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again. He was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered. The old wild country, the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed while so many men broke their hearts and died, he can scarcely remember." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134493_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 227.01, "ms": 12490.3, "words": 602, "errors": 12, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "part two neighboring fields it is sixteen years since john bergson died his wife now lies beside him and the white shaft that marks their graves gleams across the wheat fields Could he rise from beneath it, he would not know the country under which he has been asleep. The shaggy coat of the prairie, which they lifted to make him a bed, has vanished for ever. From the Norwegian graveyard one looks out over a vast checkerboard, marked off in squares of wheat and corn, light and dark, dark and light. Telephone wires hum along the white roads, which always run at right angles. from the graveyard gate one can count a dozen gaily painted farmhouses the gilded weather-vanes on the big red barns wink at each other across the green and brown and yellow fields the divide is now thickly populated The rich soil yields heavy harvests, the dry, bracing climate, and the smoothness of the land make labor easy for men and beasts. There are few scenes more gratifying than a spring plowing in that country, where the furrows of a single field often lie a mile in length, and the brown earth with such a strong clean smell and such a power of growth and fertility in it yields itself eagerly to the plough rolls away from the sheer not even dimming the brightness of the metal with a soft deep sigh of happiness The wheat cutting sometimes goes on all night as well as all day, and in good seasons there are scarcely men and horses enough to do the harvesting. The grain is so heavy that it bends toward the blade and cuts like velvet. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back. like the plains of lombardy it seems to rise a little to meet the sun the air and the earth are curiously mated and intermingled as if the one were the breath of the other You feel in the atmosphere the same tonic, puissant quality that is in the tilth, the same strength and resoluteness. One June morning a young man stood at the gate of the Norwegian graveyard, sharpening his scythe in strokes unconsciously timed to the tune he was whistling. He wore a flannel cap and duck trousers, and the sleeves of his white flannel shirt were rolled back to the elbow. When he was satisfied with the edge of his blade, he slipped the whetstone into his hip pocket and began to swing his scythe, still whistling. but softly out of respect to the quiet folk about him unconscious respect probably for he seemed intent upon his own thoughts and like the gladiators they were far away He was a splendid figure of a boy, tall and straight as a young pine tree, with a handsome head and stormy grey eyes deeply set under a serious brow. The space between his two front teeth, which were unusually far apart, gave him the proficiency in whistling for which he was distinguished at college. He also played the cornet in the university band. When the grass required his close attention, or when he had to stoop to cut about a headstone, he paused in his lively air, the jewel song, taking it up where he had left it when his scythe swung free again. he was not thinking about the tired pioneers over whom his blade glittered the old wild country the struggle in which his sister was destined to succeed while so many men broke their hearts and died he can scarcely remember" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 10182.0, "words": 709, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the Goulds was getting a divorce, and Frank took it as a personal affront. In printing the story of the young man's marital troubles, the knowing editor gave a sufficiently colored account of his career, stating the amount of his income, and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it. Frank read English slowly, and the more he read about this divorce case, the angrier he grew. He turned to his farm hand, who was reading the other half of the paper. By God, listen here what he'd do with his money! And Frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. Marie sighed. She thought it hard that the Goulds, for whom she had nothing but goodwill, should make her so much trouble. She hated to see the Sunday newspapers come into the house. Frank was always reading about the doings of rich people, and feeling outraged. He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies, how they bribed the courts, and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose. Frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. After he was gone, Marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter-making. A brisk wind had come up, and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky. The orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun. Marie stood looking toward it wistfully, her hand on the lid of the churn, when she heard a sharp ring in the air, the merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe. That invitation decided her. She ran into the house, put on a short skirt and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow. His yellow canvas leggings and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees. \"Isn't everything beautiful after the rain? Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed. When I heard it raining in the night, I thought maybe you would come and do it for me to-day. The wind wakened me. Didn't it blow dreadfully? Just smell the wild roses. They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before. I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them, too?\" \"What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty?\" \"Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season, too, then. It's exciting to see everything growing so fast. And to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last, if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them. I mean that low place down by my tree, where there are so many. Aren't you splashed? Look at the spiderwebs all over the grass. Good-bye. I'll call you if I see a snake.\" In a few moments he heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail, and he began to swing his scythe with that long, even stroke that few American boys ever learn. Marie picked cherries, and sang softly to herself, stripping one glittering branch after another, shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair, and Emil mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry trees. That summer the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than Shabbata and his man could do to keep up with the corn. The orchard was a neglected wilderness. All sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there, splotches of wild larkspur, pale green and white spikes of whorehound, plantations of wild cotton, tangles of foxtail and wild wheat. South of the apricot trees, cornering on the wheat-field, was Frank's alfalfa, where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms. Emil paused and straightened his back. \"I don't know. About like the Germans, wasn't it?\" Marie went on as if she had not heard him. \"I" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "237-134500_0000", "speaker": "237", "seconds": 236.43, "ms": 14509.7, "words": 709, "errors": 15, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Frank sat up until a late hour reading the Sunday newspapers. One of the Goulds was getting a divorce, and Frank took it as a personal affront. in printing the story of the young man's marital troubles the knowing editor gave a sufficiently coloured account of his career stating the amount of his income and the manner in which he was supposed to spend it frank read english slowly and the more he read about this divorce case the angrier he grew He turned to his farmhand, who was reading the other half of the paper. \"'By God! Listen here what he'd do with his money!' And Frank began the catalogue of the young man's reputed extravagances. marie sighed she thought it hard that the goulds for whom she had nothing but good will should make her so much trouble she hated to see the sunday newspapers come into the house frank was always reading about the doings of rich people and feeling outraged He had an inexhaustible stock of stories about their crimes and follies, how they bribed the courts and shot down their butlers with impunity whenever they chose. Frank and Lou Bergson had very similar ideas, and they were two of the political agitators of the county. after he was gone marie went out to the back porch to begin her butter making a brisk wind had come up and was driving puffy white clouds across the sky the orchard was sparkling and rippling in the sun marie stood looking toward it wistfully her hand on the lid of the churn when she heard a sharp ring in the air the merry sound of the whetstone on the scythe That invitation decided her. She ran into the house, put on a short skirt and a pair of her husband's boots, caught up a tin pail, and started for the orchard. When he saw her coming, he stopped and wiped his brow. His yellow canvas leggings and khaki trousers were splashed to the knees. Isn't everything beautiful after the rain? Oh, but I'm glad to get this place mowed. When I heard it raining in the night, I thought maybe you would come and do it for me today. The wind wakened me. Didn't it? blow dreadfully? Just smell the wild roses. They are always so spicy after a rain. We never had so many of them in here before. I suppose it's the wet season. Will you have to cut them too? What's the matter with you? What makes you so flighty? Am I flighty? I suppose that's the wet season too, then. It's exciting to see everything growing so fast, and to get the grass cut. Please leave the roses till last, if you must cut them. Oh, I don't mean all of them. I mean that low place down by my tree, where there are so many. aren't you splashed look at the spiderwebs all over the grass good-bye i'll call you if i see a snake in a few moments he heard the cherries dropping smartly into the pail and he began to swing his scythe with that long even stroke that few american boys ever learn marie picked cherries and sang softly to herself stripping one glittering branch after another shivering when she caught a shower of raindrops on her neck and hair and emil mowed his way slowly down toward the cherry-trees that summer the rains had been so many and opportune that it was almost more than shibata and his man could do to keep up with the corn the orchard was a neglected wilderness all sorts of weeds and herbs and flowers had grown up there splotches of wild larkspur pale green and white spikes of whorehound plantations of wild cotton tangles of fox tail and wild wheat south of the apricot trees cornering on the wheat field was frank's alfalfa where myriads of white and yellow butterflies were always fluttering above the purple blossoms emil paused and straightened his back \"'I don't know. About like the Germans, wasn't it?' Marie went on as if she had not heard him." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 11228.9, "words": 605, "errors": 21, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, August 15th. The sea unbroken all round. No land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant. My head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. My uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. He examines the horizon all round with his glass and folds his arms with the air of an injured man. All my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him. But now that I am well, his nature has resumed its sway. And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favorably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? You seem anxious, my uncle, I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. Anxious? No, not at all. Impatient, then? One might be, with less reason than now. Yet, we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues. Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. We are not descending, as we ought to be, the professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea upon, and our long voyage taking a little sail. But, I remarked, since we have followed the road that Sack Newsom has shown us, that is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Sack Newsom meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream what we followed led us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, August 16th. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed by the apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim or fail altogether. But there seemed no reason to fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly, the sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. And why not? My uncle took sounding several times. But when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth! I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. Yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal. The jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. I could not take my eyes off this intended iron bar. Surely will my last night's dream be realized. These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization. Gigantic proportions. Prodigious strength. I shudder as I recall these monsters to my remembrance. No human eye has ever beheld them living. I saw at the Hamburg Museum the skeleton of one of these creatures, thirty feet in length. No, surely it cannot be." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123286_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 234.44, "ms": 14729.1, "words": 605, "errors": 18, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Saturday, August 15th. The sea unbroken all round. No land in sight. The horizon seems extremely distant. my head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream my uncle has had no dreams but he is out of temper he examines the horizon all round with his glass and folds his arms with the air of an injured man all my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him but now that i am well his nature has resumed its sway And yet, what cause was there for anger? Is not the voyage prospering as favorably as possible under the circumstances? Is not the raft spinning along with marvelous speed? \"'You seem anxious, my uncle,' I said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. \"'Anxious?' \"'No, not at all.' \"'Impatient, then?' One might be, with less reason than now. Yet we are going very fast. What does that signify? I am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide. I then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues. Now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. We're not descending as we ought to be, the professor declares. We are losing time, and the fact is, I have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft. He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage taking a little sail. \"But,\" I remarked, \"since we have followed the road that Sack Newsom has shown us, that is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Sack Newsom meet with a sheet of water? Did he cross it?\" Has not the stream what we followed led us altogether astray? I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore, don't talk to me about views and prospects. I take this as my answer, and I leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. Sunday, August 16th. Nothing new, weather unchanged. The wind freshens. on awaking my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light i was possessed by an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim or fail altogether but there seemed no reason to fear The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. Truly, the sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. And why not? My uncle took sounding several times, but when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. I looked at the hunter. I had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. I returned to the Icelander. Teeth, I cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. yes indeed those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal the jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength i could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar Surely will my last night's dream be realized. These thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours sleep. The world then belonged to reptiles. They possessed a perfect organization, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength, i shudder as i recall these monsters to my remembrance no human eye has ever beheld them living i saw at the hamburg museum the skeleton of one of these creatures thirty feet in length no surely it cannot be" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 11936.3, "words": 621, "errors": 25, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather. If we may use the term, we'll change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapors, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of saline waters. The clouds are sinking lower and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain which is dropped over the theater on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. I feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures on earth, at the approach of violent atmospheric changes. The heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomingly and threateningly. They wear that impeccable look which I have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm. The air is heavy. The sea is calm. In the distance, the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. By degrees they dilate, then gain in huge size what they lose in number. Such is their ponderous weight that they cannot rise from the horizon, but obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields. The gloom upon them deepens, and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. From time to time a fleecy tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it, drops down upon the dense floor of gray and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. The atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. My whole body is saturated. My hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool under the action of an electrical machine. It seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. At ten in the morning, the symptoms of storm become aggravated. The wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength. The vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful, windy gusts and rushing storms. Here are some very bad weather coming on. The professor made no answer. His temper is awful to judge from the working of his features, as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him to an indefinite extent. He can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously. There's a heavy storm coming on! I cried, pointing towards the horizon. Those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea. A deep silence falls on all around. The lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm. Nature seems to breathe no more, and to be sinking into the stillness of death. On the mast already I see the light play of Alamon and St. Elbow's fire. The outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind and hangs like a sheet of lead. The rudder stands motionless in a sluggish, waveless sea. But if we have now ceased to advance, why do we yet leave that sail loose, which at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment? That will be the safest! No! No! Never! shouted my impetuous uncle. Never! Let the wind catch us if it will! The words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. The piled-up vapors condensed into water, and the air, put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mist, rouses itself into a whirlwind. It rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern. The darkness deepens. Scarcely can I jot down a few hurried notes. The helm makes abound. My uncle falls full length. I creep close to him. Thank you." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123288_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 238.12, "ms": 13339.3, "words": 621, "errors": 18, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The wind has risen and has rapidly carried us away from Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance. The weather. If we may use the term, will change before long. The atmosphere is charged with vapors, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of saline waters. The clouds are sinking lower and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain, which is dropped over the theater on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. i feel peculiar sensations like many creatures on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes the heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomily and threateningly they wear that impeccable look which i have sometimes noted at the outbreak of a great storm The air is heavy. The sea is calm. In the distance, the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. by degrees they dilate then gain in huge size what they lose in number such is their ponderous weight that they cannot rise from the horizon but obeying an impulse from higher currents their dense consistency slowly yields the gloom upon them deepens and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface from time to time a fleecy tuft of mist with yet some gleaming light left upon it drops down upon the dense floor of gray and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass the atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity my whole body is saturated my hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool under the action of an electrical machine it seems to me as if my companions the moment they touched me would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel at ten in the morning the symptoms of storm become aggravated The wind never lulls, but to acquire increased strength. The vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful, windy gusts and rushing storms. here is some very bad weather coming on the professor made no answer his temper is awful to judge from the working of his features as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him to an indefinite extent he can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously there's a heavy storm coming on i cried pointing towards the horizon those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea a deep silence falls on all around the lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm nature seems to breathe no more and to be sinking into the stillness of death on the mast already i see the light play of alamon and st abel's fire the outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind and hangs like a sheet of lead the rudder stands motionless in a sluggish waveless sea but if we have now ceased to advance why do we yet leave that sail loose which at the first shock of a tempest may capsize us in a moment That will be the safest. No, no, never, shouted my impetuous uncle. Never. Let the wind catch us if it will. The words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. The piled-up vapors condensed into water and the air put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mist rouses itself into a whirlwind. it rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern the darkness deepens scarcely can i jot down a few hurried notes the helm makes a bound my uncle falls full length i creep close to him" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 11245.9, "words": 716, "errors": 11, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Oh, my poor little feet! I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears, and how odd the directions will look. Hearthrug near the fender with Alice's love. Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking! Just then, her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact, she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look into the garden with one eye. But to get through was more hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, said Alice. A great girl like you, she might well say this. To go on crying in this way, stop this moment, I tell you. But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time, she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came. Oh, the Duchess! The Duchess! Oh, won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting? Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone. So when the rabbit came near her, she began in a low, timid voice. If you please, sir. The rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking. Dear, dear, how queer everything is today, and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. I'm sure I'm not Ada, she said, for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all. And I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things. And she, oh, she knows such a very little, besides she, she, and I'm I. And oh, dear, how puzzling it all is. I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. I shall never get to twenty at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome, no, that's all wrong, I'm certain. I must have been changed for Mabel. How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words, said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on. I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that pokey little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh, ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use. They're putting their heads down and saying, Come up again, dear. Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up. If not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else. But oh, dear, cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, I do wish they would put their heads down. I am so very tired of being all alone here." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "260-123440_0000", "speaker": "260", "seconds": 239.23, "ms": 14254.3, "words": 716, "errors": 8, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "oh my poor little feet i wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now dears and how odd the directions will look hearthrug near the fender with alice's love Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking. Just then, her head struck against the roof of the hall. In fact, she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. poor alice it was as much as she could do lying down on one side to look through into the garden with one eye but to get through was more hopeless than ever she sat down and began to cry again you ought to be ashamed of yourself said alice a great girl like you she might well say this to go on crying in this way stop this moment i tell you But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. After a time, she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the white rabbit returning, splendidly dressed with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other. he came trotting along in a great hurry muttering to himself as he came oh the duchess the duchess oh won't she be savage if i've kept her waiting Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone. So when the rabbit came near her, she began in a low, timid voice, If you please, sir. The rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness, as hard as he could go. Alice took up the fan and gloves, and as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking. Dear, dear, how queer everything is today, and yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think, was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is... who in the world am i ah that's the great puzzle i'm sure i'm not ada she said for her hair goes in such long ringlets and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all and i'm sure i can't be mabel for i know all sorts of things and she oh she knows such a very little besides she she and i'm i and oh dear how puzzling it all is i'll try if i know all the things i used to know I shall never get to twenty at that rate. However, the multiplication table doesn't signify. Let's try geography. London is the capital of Paris. and paris is the capital of rome and rome no that's all wrong i'm certain i must have been changed for mabel how cheerfully he seems to grin how neatly spread his claws and welcome little fishes in with gently smiling jaws i'm sure those are not the right words said poor alice and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on i must be mabel after all and i shall have to go and live in that pokey little house and have next to no toys to play with and oh ever so many lessons to learn. No, I've made up my mind about it. If I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here. It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying, \"Come up again, dear. Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up.\" if not i'll stay down here till i'm somebody else but oh dear cried alice with a sudden burst of tears i do wish they would put their heads down i am so very tired of being all alone here" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 9441.5, "words": 579, "errors": 44, "deleted": 28, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 21, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will, on one condition. And what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American. Streamline him, so to speak. Because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran church, actually to read Luther unless we make him talk as he would talk today to Americans. And what book would be your choice? There is one book that Luther himself liked better than any other. Let us begin with that. His commentary on Galatians. The undertaking, which seems so attractive when viewed as a literary task, proved a most difficult one, and at times became oppressive. The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than 1,500 pages, ordinary octavo, like this, since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides laboring under the handicaps of an archaic style, had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary on Galatians. The reformer had lectured on this epistle of St. Paul's in 1519, and again in 1523. It was his favorite among all the biblical books. In his table talks, the saying is recorded, Much later, when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his Latin works, he remarked to his home circle, If I had my way about it, they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine, my Galatians, for instance. The lectures which are preserved in the works herewith submitted to the American public were delivered in 1531. They were taken down by George Rohrer, who held something of a deanship at Wittenberg University, and who was one of Luther's aides in the translation of the Bible. In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians, and Rohrer prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justice Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings, published in 1539. It presents, like no other of Luther's writings, the central thought of Christianity, the justification of the sinner for the sake of Christ's merits alone. We have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand, which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the Latin original. But the essence of Luther's lectures is there. May the reader accept with indulgence, where in this translation we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The Lord who has given us power to teach and to hear, let him also give us the power to serve and to do. Luke 2 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men. Isaiah 40 The word of our God shall stand forever. Amen." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3979_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 203.04, "ms": 11019.1, "words": 579, "errors": 16, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "We want you to help us publish some leading work of Luther's for the general American market. Will you do it? I will, on one condition. And what is that? The condition is that I will be permitted to make Luther talk American. Streamline him. so to speak, because you will never get people, whether in or outside the Lutheran church, actually to read Luther unless we make him talk as he would talk today to Americans. And what book would be your choice? there is one book that luther himself liked better than any other let us begin with that his commentary on galatians the undertaking which seemed so attractive when viewed as a literary task proved a most difficult one and at times became oppressive The letter to the Galatians consists of six short chapters. It was written in Latin. It would have run to more than 1,500 pages, ordinary octavo, like this, since it is impossible to use the compressed structure of sentences which is characteristic of Latin, and particularly of Luther's Latin. The work had to be condensed. German and English translations are available, but the most acceptable English version, besides laboring under the handicaps of an archaic style, had to be condensed into half its volume in order to accomplish the streamlining of the book. A word should now be said about the origin of Luther's commentary on Galatians. The reformer had lectured on this epistle of St. Paul's in 1519 and again in 1523. it was his favorite among all the biblical books in his table talks the saying is recorded the epistle to the galatians is my epistle to it i am as it were in wedlock it is my catherine much later when a friend of his was preparing an edition of all his latin works he remarked to his home circle if i had my way about it they would republish only those of my books which have doctrine my galatians for instance the lectures which are preserved in the works herewith submitted to the american public were delivered in fifteen thirty one they were taken down by george rohrer who held something of a deanship at wittenberg university and who was one of luther's aides in the translation of the bible In other words, these three men took down the lectures which Luther addressed to his students in the course of Galatians, and Rohrer prepared the manuscript for the printer. A German translation by Justus Menius appeared in the Wittenberg edition of Luther's writings, published in 1539. it presents like no other of luther's writings the central thought of christianity the justification of the sinner for the sake of christ's merits alone we have permitted in the final revision of the manuscript many a passage to stand which seemed weak and ineffectual when compared with the trumpet tones of the latin original But the essence of Luther's lectures is there. May the reader accept with indulgence, where in this translation we have gone too far in modernizing Luther's expression, making him talk American. The Lord who has given us power to teach and to hear, let him also give us the power to serve and to do luke two glory to god in the highest and on earth peace good will to men isaiah forty the word of our god shall stand forever" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 10734.1, "words": 726, "errors": 14, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 8, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The world bears the gospel a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world. Jealous for its own religious views, the world in turn charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine, offensive to God and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience, and every blessing. Just for that, the world abhors the gospel. In every way, they sought to undermine the authority of St. Paul. They said to the Galatians, You have no right to think highly of Paul. He was the last to turn to Christ. But we have seen Christ. We heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error, we who have received the Holy Ghost? Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ, nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed, he persecuted the Church of Christ for a long time. When men claiming such credentials come along, they deceive not only the naive, but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith. This same argument is used by the papacy. Do you suppose that God, for the sake of a few Lutheran heretics, would disown his entire Church? Or do you suppose that God would have left his Church floundering in error all these centuries? The Galatians were taken in by such arguments, with the result that Paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question. Against these boasting false apostles, Paul boldly defends his apostolic authority in ministry. Humble man that he was, he will not now take a back seat. The certainty of our calling. As the ambassador of a government is honored for his office, and not for his private person, so the minister of Christ should exalt his office, in order to gain authority among men. This is not vain glory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise, but to the praise of God. Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of God. Paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry. He says to the Galatians, My call may seem inferior to you. When Paul speaks of those called by men, I take it he means those whom neither God nor man send, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by man, I take it he means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways. Either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. The most they could claim is that they were sent by others. But as for me, I was called neither of men nor by man, but directly by Jesus Christ. My call is in every respect like the call of the apostles. In fact, I am an apostle. He mentions the apostles first because they were appointed directly by God. Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates and then cast lots, praying that God would indicate which one he would have. To be an apostle, he had to have his appointment from God. In the same manner, Paul was called as the apostle of the Gentiles. The call is not to be taken lightly. For a person to possess knowledge is not enough. He must be sure that he is properly called. This is our comfort in the ministry. That ours is a divine office to which we have been divinely called. Reversely, what an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. It spoils one's best work. When I was a young man, I thought Paul was making too much of his call. I did not understand his purpose. I did not then realize the importance of the ministry." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2830-3980_0000", "speaker": "2830", "seconds": 239.88, "ms": 14467.6, "words": 726, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The world bears the gospel a grudge because the gospel condemns the religious wisdom of the world. Jealous for its own religious views, the world in turn charges the gospel with being a subversive and licentious doctrine, offensive to God and man, a doctrine to be persecuted as the worst plague on earth. As a result, we have this paradoxical situation. The gospel supplies the world with the salvation of Jesus Christ, peace of conscience, and every blessing. Just for that, the world abhors the gospel. In every way they sought to undermine the authority of St. Paul. They said to the Galatians, You have no right to think highly of Paul. He was the last to turn to Christ. But we have seen Christ. We heard him preach. Paul came later and is beneath us. It is possible for us to be in error, we who have received the Holy Ghost. Paul stands alone. He has not seen Christ, nor has he had much contact with the other apostles. Indeed, he persecuted the Church of Christ for a long time. when men claiming such credentials come along they deceive not only the naive but also those who seemingly are well established in the faith this same argument is used by the papacy do you suppose that god for the sake of a few lutheran heretics would disown his entire church or do you suppose that god would have left his church floundering in error all these centuries the galatians were taken in by such arguments with the result that paul's authority and doctrine were drawn in question against these boasting false apostles paul boldly defends his apostolic authority in ministry humble man that he was he will not now take a back seat the certainty of our calling as the ambassador of a government is honored for his office and not for his private person so the minister of christ should exalt his office in order to gain authority among men This is not vain glory, but needful glory. Paul takes pride in his ministry, not to his own praise, but to the praise of God. Paul exalts his ministry out of the desire to make known the name, the grace, and the mercy of God. verse one paul an apostle not of men etc paul loses no time in defending himself against the charge that he had thrust himself into the ministry He says to the Galatians, My call may seem inferior to you. When Paul speaks of those called by men, I take it he means those whom neither God nor man sent, but who go wherever they like and speak for themselves. When Paul speaks of those called by man, I take it he means those who have a divine call extended to them through other persons. God calls in two ways. Either he calls ministers through the agency of men, or he calls them directly as he called the prophets and apostles. Paul declares that the false apostles were called or sent neither by men nor by man. the most they could claim is that they were sent by others but as for me i was called neither of men nor by man but directly by jesus christ my call is in every respect like the call of the apostles In fact, I am an apostle. He mentions the apostles first because they were appointed directly by God. Matthias was called in this manner. The apostles chose two candidates and then cast lots praying that god would indicate which one he would have to be an apostle he had to have his appointment from god in the same manner paul was called as the apostle of the gentiles the call is not to be taken lightly for a person to possess knowledge is not enough he must be sure that he is properly called This is our comfort in the ministry, that ours is a divine office to which we have been divinely called. Reversely, what an awful thing it must be for the conscience if one is not properly called. it spoils one's best work when i was a young man i thought paul was making too much of his call i did not understand his purpose i did not then realize the importance of the ministry" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 14729.1, "words": 512, "errors": 44, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 36, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 32, "text": "the obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science out of the confusion of theological mathematical and physiological notions out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts and from a greater perception of similarities which lie on the surface than of differences which are hidden from view to bring sense under the control of reason to find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances either the highway of mathematics or more devious paths suggested by the analogy of men with the world and of the world with men to see that all things have a cause and are tending towards an end this is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher he has no notion of trying an experiment and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature which are tumbling out at his feet or of interpreting even the most obvious of them he is driven back from the nearer to the more distant from particulars to generalities from the earth to the stars he lifts up his eyes to the heavens and seeks to guide by their motions his erring footsteps but we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination the same hold upon us for he is hanging between matter and mind he is under the dominion at the same time both of sense and of abstractions his impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature he sees the light but not the objects which are revealed by the light and he brings into juxtaposition things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder because he finds nothing between them he passes abruptly from persons to ideas and numbers and from ideas and numbers to persons from the heavens to man from astronomy to physiology he confuses or rather does not distinguish subject and object from persons to ideas and numbers, and from ideas and numbers to persons, from the heavens to man, from astronomy to physiology, he confuses, or rather does not distinguish subject and object, first and final causes, and is dreaming of geometrical figures lost in a flux of sense. He has no implements of observation such as the telescope or microscope. The great science of chemistry is a blank to him. It is only by an effort that the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher, or understand how, under such unequal conditions, he seems in many instances by a sort of inspiration to have anticipated the truth. The influence which the Timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due partly to a misunderstanding. In the supposed depths of this dialogue, the Neoplatonists found hidden meanings in connections with the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and out of them they elicited doctrines quite at the same as the spirit of the spirit of Plato. Believing that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost, or had received his wisdom from Moses, they seemed to find in his writings the Christian trinity, the word, the church, the creation of the world in a Jewish sense, as they really found the personality of God or of mind, and the immortality of the soul." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-960_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.54, "ms": 13002.8, "words": 512, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the obscurity arises in the infancy of physical science out of the confusion of theological mathematical and physiological notions out of the desire to conceive the whole of nature without any adequate knowledge of the parts and from a greater perception of similarities which lie on the surface than of differences which are hidden from view to bring sense under the control of reason to find some way through the mist or labyrinth of appearances either the highway of mathematics or more devious paths suggested by the analogy of men with the world and of the world with men to see that all things have a cause and are tending towards an end this is the spirit of the ancient physical philosopher he has no notion of trying an experiment and is hardly capable of observing the curiosities of nature which are tumbling out at his feet or of interpreting even the most obvious of them he is driven back from the nearer to the more distant from particulars to generalities from the earth to the stars he lifts up his eyes to the heavens and seeks to guide by their motions his erring footsteps but we neither appreciate the conditions of knowledge to which he was subjected nor have the ideas which fastened upon his imagination the same hold upon us for he is hanging between matter and mind he is under the dominion at the same time both of sense and of abstractions his impressions are taken almost at random from the outside of nature he sees the light but not the objects which are revealed by the light and he brings into juxtaposition things which to us appear wide as the poles asunder because he finds nothing between them he passes abruptly from persons to ideas and numbers and from ideas and numbers to persons from the heavens to man from astronomy to physiology he confuses or rather does not distinguish subject and object first and final causes and is dreaming of geometrical figures lost in a flux of sense he has no implements of observation such as the telescope or microscope the great science of chemistry is a blank to him it is only by an effort that the modern thinker can breathe the atmosphere of the ancient philosopher, or understand how, under such unequal conditions, has seems, in many instances, by a sort of inspiration to have anticipated the truth the influence which the timaeus has exercised upon posterity is due partly to a misunderstanding in the supposed depths of this dialogue the neoplatonists found hidden meanings in connections with the jewish and christian scriptures and out of them they elicited doctrines quite at variance with the spirit of plato believing that he was inspired by the holy ghost or had received his wisdom from moses they seemed to find in his writings the christian trinity the word the church the creation of the world in a jewish sense as they really found the personality of god or of mind and the immortality of the soul" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 11529.5, "words": 585, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "socrates begins the timaeus with a summary of the republic he lightly touches upon a few points the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes the double nature and training of the guardians the community of property and of women and children but he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers and now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion he would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle and therefore to you i turn timaeus citizen of locris who are at once a philosopher and a statesman and to you critias whom all athenians know to be similarly accomplished and to hermocrates who is also fitted by nature and education to share in our discourse hermocrates we will do our best and have been already preparing for on our way home critias told us of an ancient tradition which i wish critias that you would repeat to socrates i will if timaeus approves i approve listen then socrates to a tale of solens who being the friend of tropidas my great-grandfather told it to my grandfather critias and he told me the narrative related to ancient famous actions of the athenian people and to one especially which i will rehearse in honour of you and of the goddess critias when he told this tale of the olden time was ninety years old i being not more than ten the occasion of the day of the epituria called the registration of youth at which our parents gave prizes for recitation some poems of solen were recited by the boys they had not at that time gone out of fashion and the recital of them led some one to say perhaps in compliment to critias that solen was not only the wisest of men but also the best of poets and what was the subject of the poem said the person who made the remark the subject was a very noble one he described the most famous action in which the athenian people were ever engaged but the memory of their exploits had passed away owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors tell us said the other the whole story and where solen heard the story the citizens have a friendly feeling towards the athenians believing themselves to be related to them hither came solen and was received with honour and here he first learnt by conversing with the egyptian priests how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity thereupon an aged priest said to him o solen solen you helenes are ever young and there is no old man who is a helene what do you mean he asked in mind replied the priest i mean to say that you are children there is no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you which is white with age and i will tell you why like the rest of mankind you have suffered from convulsions of nature which are chiefly brought about by the two great agencies of fire and water for there occurs at long intervals a derangement of the heavenly bodies and then the earth is destroyed by fire now the nile is our saviour from fire and as there is little rain in egypt we are not harmed by water whereas in other countries when a deluge comes the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "2961-961_0000", "speaker": "2961", "seconds": 233.47, "ms": 13034.8, "words": 585, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "socrates begins the timaeus with a summary of the republic he lightly touches upon a few points the division of labor and distribution of the citizens into classes the double nature and training of the guardians the community of property and of women and children but he makes no mention of the second education or of the government of philosophers and now he desires to see the ideal state set in motion he would like to know how she behaved in some great struggle and therefore to you i turn timaeus citizen of locris who are at once a philosopher and a statesman and to you critias whom all athenians know to be similarly accomplished and to hermocrates who is also fitted by nature and education to share in our discourse hermocrates we will do our best and have been already preparing for on our way home critias told us of an ancient tradition which i wish critias that you would repeat to socrates i will if timeas approves i approve listen then socrates to a tale of solace who being the friend of tropidas my great-grandfather told it to my grandfather critias and he told me the narrative related to ancient famous actions of the athenian people and to one especially which i will rehearse in honour of you and of the goddess critias when he told this tale of the olden time was ninety years old i being not more than ten the occasion of the rehearsal was the day of the apeturia called the registration of youth at which our parents gave prizes for recitation some poems of solon were recited by the boys they had not at that time gone out of fashion and the rest of all of them led some one to say perhaps in compliment to critias that solon was not only the wisest of men but also the best of poets and what was the subject of the poem said the person who made the remark the subject was a very noble one he described the most famous action in which the athenian people were ever engaged but the memory of their exploits had passed away owing to the lapse of time and the extinction of the actors tell us said the other the whole story and where solon heard the story the citizens have a friendly feeling towards the athenians believing themselves to be related to them hither came solon and was received with honor and here he first learned by conversing with the egyptian priests how ignorant he and his countrymen were of antiquity thereupon an aged priest said to him o sullen sullen you hellenes are ever young and there is no old man who is a hellene what do you mean he asked in mind replied the priest i mean to say that you are children there is no opinion or tradition of knowledge among you which is white with age and i will tell you why like the rest of mankind you have suffered from convulsions of nature which are chiefly brought about by the two great agencies of fire and water for there occurs at long intervals a derangement of the heavenly bodies and then the earth is destroyed by fire now the nile is our saviour from fire and as there is little rain in egypt we are not harmed by water whereas in other countries when a deluge comes the inhabitants are swept by the rivers into the sea" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 10523.1, "words": 672, "errors": 17, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters. Another, scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one, is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling, and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already at a point in economic evolution far antedating the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods as an evidence of pecuniary strength had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predatory culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are all so intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character, but unlike the latter it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative growth. It is an adaption to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well established in men's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honorable superior class made up of the able-bodied men on the one side and a base inferior class of laboring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls to the women is merely incidental to their work. It is a means to their continued labor, and not a consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. Unproductive consumption of goods is honorable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily, it becomes substantially honorable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things. The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, the taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals, and more particularly, certain beverages, are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dieter is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be noble and honorific. Therefore, the base classes, primarily the women, practice an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, except in countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down, through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men, of gentle birth and breeding, to consume them. Drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants, therefore tend in their turn to become honorific, as being a mark, at the secondary move, of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence. Thank you." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5694_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.57, "ms": 13455.8, "words": 672, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "One portion of the servant class, chiefly those persons whose occupation is vicarious leisure, come to undertake a new subsidiary range of duties, the vicarious consumption of goods. The most obvious form in which this consumption occurs is seen in the wearing of liveries and the occupation of spacious servants' quarters. Another, scarcely less obtrusive or less effective form of vicarious consumption, and a much more widely prevalent one, is the consumption of food, clothing, dwelling and furniture by the lady and the rest of the domestic establishment. But already at a point in economic evolution far antedating the emergence of the lady, specialized consumption of goods as an evidence of pecuniary strength had begun to work out in a more or less elaborate system. The beginning of a differentiation in consumption even antedates the appearance of anything that can fairly be called pecuniary strength. It is traceable back to the initial phase of predatory culture, and there is even a suggestion that an incipient differentiation in this respect lies back of the beginnings of the predatory life. This most primitive differentiation in the consumption of goods is like the later differentiation with which we are all so intimately familiar, in that it is largely of a ceremonial character, but unlike the latter it does not rest on a difference in accumulated wealth. The utility of consumption as an evidence of wealth is to be classed as a derivative growth. It is an adaption to a new end by a selective process of a distinction previously existing and well-established in man's habits of thought. In the earlier phases of the predatory culture, the only economic differentiation is a broad distinction between an honourable superior class, made up of the able-bodied men on the one side, and a base inferior class of labouring women on the other. According to the ideal scheme of life in force at the time, it is the office of the men to consume what the women produce. Such consumption as falls to the women is merely incidental to their work. It is a means to their continued labor, and not a consumption directed to their own comfort and fullness of life. Unproductive consumption of goods is honorable, primarily as a mark of prowess and a perquisite of human dignity. Secondarily, it becomes substantially honorable to itself, especially the consumption of the more desirable things. The consumption of choice articles of food, and frequently also of rare articles of adornment, becomes taboo to the women and children, and if there is a base, servile class of men, the taboo holds also for them. With a further advance in culture, this taboo may change into simple custom of a more or less rigorous character, but whatever be the theoretical basis of the distinction which is maintained, whether it be a taboo or a larger conventionality, the features of the conventional scheme of consumption do not change easily. In the nature of things, luxuries and the comforts of life belong to the leisure class. Under the taboo, certain victuals, and more particularly, certain beverages, are strictly reserved for the use of the superior class. The ceremonial differentiation of the dieter is best seen in the use of intoxicating beverages and narcotics. If these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be noble and honorific. Therefore the base classes, primarily the women, practice an enforced continence with respect to these stimulants, except in countries where they are obtainable at a very low cost. From archaic times down, through all the length of the patriarchal regime, it has been the office of the women to prepare and administer these luxuries, and it has been the perquisite of the men of gentle birth and breeding to consume them. drunkenness and the other pathological consequences of the free use of stimulants therefore tend in their turn to become honorific as being a mark at the secondary move of the superior status of those who are able to afford the indulgence" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 11935.3, "words": 747, "errors": 8, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently, these two groups coincide. The dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife, or the chief wife, and, as would be expected in the later development of the institution, when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last. But as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached, where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone. In the communities of the Western culture, this point is at present found among the lower middle class. And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class there is no pretense of leisure on the part of the head of the household. Through force of circumstances it has fallen into disuse. But the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household, disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary businessman of today. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity, in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities, which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond, showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us chiefly because we have been taught to find them pleasing. Pretty much all that is here insisted on is that, as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance if they are, they must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves through the great economic law of wasted effort. The requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure. At a point below which little, if any pretense of wasted effort, in ceremonial cleaners and the like, is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously for the reputability of the household and its head. So that, as the latter-day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset the dredge and chattel of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume, has become the ceremonial consumer of goods which he produces. But she still, quite unmistakably, remains his chattel in theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practiced by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life, since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the second remove. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, Both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5695_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 235.49, "ms": 13831.5, "words": 747, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "In a general way, though not wholly nor consistently, these two groups coincide. The dependent who was first delegated for these duties was the wife, or the chief wife, and, as would be expected in the later development of the institution, when the number of persons by whom these duties are customarily performed gradually narrows, the wife remains the last. But as we descend the social scale, the point is presently reached, where the duties of vicarious leisure and consumption devolve upon the wife alone. In the communities of the Western culture, this point is at present found among the lower middle class. And here occurs a curious inversion. It is a fact of common observance that in this lower middle class there is no pretense of leisure on the part of the head of the household. Through force of circumstances it has fallen into disuse. But the middle class wife still carries on the business of vicarious leisure for the good name of the household and its master. In descending the social scale in any modern industrial community, the primary fact, the conspicuous leisure of the master of the household, disappears at a relatively high point. The head of the middle-class household has been reduced by economic circumstances to turn his hand to gaining a livelihood by occupations which often partake largely of the character of industry, as in the case of the ordinary businessman of today. But the derivative fact, the vicarious leisure and consumption rendered by the wife, and the auxiliary vicarious performance of leisure by menials, remains in vogue as a conventionality which the demands of reputability will not suffer to be slighted. It is by no means an uncommon spectacle to find a man applying himself to work with the utmost assiduity, in order that his wife may in due form render for him that degree of vicarious leisure which the common sense of the time demands. The leisure rendered by the wife in such cases is, of course, not a simple manifestation of idleness or indolence. It almost invariably occurs disguised under some form of work or household duties or social amenities, which prove an analysis to serve little or no ulterior end beyond showing that she does not occupy herself with anything that is gainful or that is of substantial use. The effects are pleasing to us chiefly because we have been taught to find them pleasing. Pretty much all that is here insisted on is that, as regards these amenities of life, the housewife's efforts are under the guidance of traditions that have been shaped by the law of conspicuously wasteful expenditure of time and substance. If beauty or comfort is achieved, and it is a more or less fortuitous circumstance if they are, they must be achieved by means and methods that commend themselves through the great economic law of wasted effort. The requirement of vicarious consumption at the hands of the wife continues in force even at a lower point in the pecuniary scale than the requirement of vicarious leisure. At a point below which little, if any pretense of wasted effort, in ceremonial cleaners and the like, is observable, and where there is assuredly no conscious attempt at ostensible leisure, decency still requires the wife to consume some goods conspicuously for the reputability of the household and its head. So that, as the latter-day outcome of this evolution of an archaic institution, the wife, who was at the outset the dredge and chettle of the man, both in fact and in theory, the producer of goods for him to consume, has become the ceremonial consumer of goods which he produces. But she still, quite unmistakably, remains his chattel in theory, for the habitual rendering of vicarious leisure and consumption is the abiding mark of the unfree servant. This vicarious consumption practiced by the household of the middle and lower classes cannot be counted as a direct expression of the leisure class scheme of life, since the household of this pecuniary grade does not belong within the leisure class. It is rather that the leisure class scheme of life here comes to an expression at the secondary move. Accordingly, both of these methods are in vogue as far down the scale as it remains possible, and in the lower strata in which the two methods are employed, both offices are in great part delegated to the wife and children of the household." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 10702.2, "words": 677, "errors": 12, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground and tend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance, both absolutely and relatively, until it had absorbed all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual course of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods, both as a direct exponent of wealth and as an element in the standard of decency during the quasi-peaceful culture. From that point onward consumption has gained ground, until at present it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honourable and becomes imperative partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labour. The archaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi-peaceful stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship. Other circumstances permitting, that instinct disposes men to look with favour upon productive efficiency and on whatever it is of human use. It disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labour continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all productive effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness. But when the quasi-peaceable stage, with slavery and status, passes into the peaceable stage of industry, with wage labour and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play. It then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious and asserts itself at least as an auxiliary canon of self-complacency. But the fact that it may under stress of circumstances eventuate in inanities no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nest full of china eggs. This latter-day uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecorously productive of either individual or collective gain marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the quasi-peaceable stage. At the earliest stage, as was said above, the all-dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent in predatory activity now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated, especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the otium cum dignitate. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand and will permit nothing beyond the most transient vogue to any employment that is substantially useful or productive. The consequence is that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practiced by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3570-5696_0000", "speaker": "3570", "seconds": 229.83, "ms": 14003.3, "words": 677, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Under the simple test of effectiveness for advertising, we should expect to find leisure and the conspicuous consumption of goods dividing the field of pecuniary emulation pretty evenly between them at the outset. Leisure might then be expected gradually to yield ground and tend to obsolescence as the economic development goes forward and the community increases in size, while the conspicuous consumption of goods should gradually gain in importance, both absolutely and relatively, until it had absorbed all the available product, leaving nothing over beyond a bare livelihood. But the actual course of development has been somewhat different from this ideal scheme. Leisure held the first place at the start and came to hold a rank very much above wasteful consumption of goods, both as a direct exponent of wealth and as an element in the standard of decency during the quasi-peaceful culture. From that point onward consumption has gained ground until at present it unquestionably holds the primacy, though it is still far from absorbing the entire margin of production above the subsistence minimum. The early ascendancy of leisure as a means of reputability is traceable to the archaic distinction between noble and ignoble employments. Leisure is honourable and becomes imperative partly because it shows exemption from ignoble labour. The archaic differentiation into noble and ignoble classes is based on an invidious distinction between employments as honorific or debasing, and this traditional distinction grows into an imperative canon of decency during the early quasi-peaceful stage. This alien factor is the instinct of workmanship. Other circumstances permitting that instinct disposes men to look with favour upon productive efficiency and on whatever is of human use. It disposes them to deprecate waste of substance or effort. The instinct of workmanship is present in all men and asserts itself even under very adverse circumstances. It is only less promptly and with less constraining force that it reaches such substantial violations of its requirements as are appreciated only upon reflection. So long as all labour continues to be performed exclusively or usually by slaves, the baseness of all productive effort is too constantly and deterrently present in the mind of men to allow the instinct of workmanship seriously to take effect in the direction of industrial usefulness. But when the quasi-peaceable stage... with slavery and status, passes into the peaceable stage of industry. With wage labour and cash payment, the instinct comes more effectively into play. It then begins aggressively to shape men's views of what is meritorious, and asserts itself at least as an auxiliary canon of self-complacency. But the fact that it may, under stress of circumstances, eventuate in inanities no more disproves the presence of the instinct than the reality of the brooding instinct is disproved by inducing a hen to sit on a nest full of china eggs. This latter-day uneasy reaching out for some form of purposeful activity that shall at the same time not be indecorously productive of either individual or collective gain marks a difference of attitude between the modern leisure class and that of the quasi-peaceable stage. At the earliest stage, as was said above, the all-dominating institution of slavery and status acted resistlessly to discountenance exertion directed to other than naively predatory ends. The line of least resistance has changed in some measure, and the energy which formerly found a vent in predatory activity now in part takes the direction of some ostensibly useful end. Ostensibly purposeless leisure has come to be deprecated, especially among that large portion of the leisure class whose plebeian origin acts to set them at variance with the tradition of the otium cum dignitate. But that canon of reputability which discountenances all employment that is of the nature of productive effort is still at hand and will permit nothing beyond the most transient vogue to any employment that is substantially useful or productive. The consequence is that a change has been wrought in the conspicuous leisure practiced by the leisure class, not so much in substance as in form." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 12013.9, "words": 691, "errors": 18, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as everyone likes to judge for himself, I copy the six opening stanzas, about a third of the whole, and certainly not the worst. So where he reigns in glory bright, above those starry skies of night, amid his paradise of light, oh why may I not be? And often has my mother said, while on her lap I laid my head, she feared for time I was not made, but for eternity. So I can read my title clear, to mansions in the skies, and let me bid farewell to fear, and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, she was distressed by a hearing that her friend E was likely to leave the neighbourhood for a considerable length of time. February 20th What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You first pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavouring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we are in danger of loving each other too well, of losing sight of the Creator and idolatry of the creature. At first I could not say, Thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so. Being left a moment alone this morning, I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of God's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severer hand than the present disappointment. Since then I have felt calmer and humbler, and consequently happier. Last Sunday I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind. I began to read. A feeling stole over me such as I have not known for many long years. A sweet, placid sensation, like those I remember, which used to visit me when I was a little child, and on Sunday evenings in the summer, stood by the open window reading the life of a certain French nobleman, who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Tory and clergyman's daughter, was always in a minority of one in our house of violent dissent and radicalism. Her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose anyone without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously, sometimes picking out any grain of sense there might be in what I said, but never allowing anyone materially to interfere with her independence of thought and action. Mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence, but of strong, not to say violent, prejudices, all running in favor of republicanism and dissent. No other county but Yorkshire could have produced such a man. His brother had been a détenu in France, and had afterwards voluntarily taken up his residence there. Mr. T himself had been much abroad, both on business and to see the great continental galleries of paintings. He spoke French perfectly, I have been told, when need was, but delighted usually in talking the broadest Yorkshire. He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. He would speak his broadest, bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms, and by and by, if he found his hearer could stand the shock, he would involuntarily show his warm, kind heart, and his true taste and real refinement. They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand. Mr. T is dead. And" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3575-170457_0000", "speaker": "3575", "seconds": 238.26, "ms": 13754.2, "words": 691, "errors": 19, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The poetry enclosed seems to me by no means equal to parts of the letter, but as everyone likes to judge for himself, I copy the six opening stanzas, about a third of the whole and certainly not the worst. So where he reigns in glory bright, above those starry skies of night. amid his paradise of light oh why may i not be and often has my mother said while on her lap i laid my head she feared for time i was not made but for eternity So I can read my title clear to Mansions in the Skies and let me bid farewell to fear and wipe my weeping eyes. Soon after Charlotte returned to Dewsbury Moor, she was distressed by a hearing that her friend E was likely to leave the neighborhood for a considerable length of time. February 20th What shall I do without you? How long are we likely to be separated? Why are we to be denied each other's society? It is an inscrutable fatality. You first pointed out to me that way in which I am so feebly endeavoring to travel, and now I cannot keep you by my side. I must proceed sorrowfully alone. Why are we to be divided? Surely it must be because we're in danger of loving each other too well, of losing sight of the Creator and idolatry of the creature. At first I could not say, Thy will be done. I felt rebellious, but I knew it was wrong to feel so. Being left a moment alone this morning, I prayed fervently to be enabled to resign myself to every decree of God's will, though it should be dealt forth by a far severer hand than the present disappointment. Since then I have felt calmer and humbler. and consequently happier. Last Sunday I took up my Bible in a gloomy state of mind. I began to read. A feeling stole over me such as I have not known for many long years. a sweet placid sensation like those i remember which used to visit me when i was a little child and on sunday evenings in the summer stood by the open window reading the life of a certain french nobleman who attained a purer and higher degree of sanctity than has been known since the days of the early martyrs. We used to dispute about politics and religion. She, a Tory and clergyman's daughter, was always in a minority... of one in our house of violent dissent and radicalism. Her feeble health gave her her yielding manner, for she could never oppose anyone without gathering up all her strength for the struggle. Thus she would let me advise and patronize most imperiously, sometimes picking out any grain of sense there might be in what i said but never allowing anyone materially to interfere with her independence of thought and action mary's father was a man of remarkable intelligence but of strong not to say violent prejudices all running in favour of republicanism and dissent. No other county but Yorkshire could have produced such a man. His brother had been a detainee in France and had afterwards voluntarily taken up his residence there. mr t himself had been much abroad both on business and to see the great continental galleries of paintings he spoke french perfectly i have been told when need was but delighted usually in talking the broadest yorkshire He bought splendid engravings of the pictures which he particularly admired, and his house was full of works of art and of books, but he rather liked to present his rough side to any stranger or newcomer. he would speak his broadest bring out his opinions on church and state in their most startling forms and by and by if he found his hearer could stand the shock he would involuntarily show his warm kind heart and his true taste and real refinement They are scattered far and wide. Martha, the younger daughter, sleeps in the Protestant cemetery at Brussels. Mary is in New Zealand. Mr. T is dead." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 10440.2, "words": 598, "errors": 15, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "My apprenticeship in Paris, portraits, oddities, all sorts of things. To celebrate the arrival of her son, Sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives, and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance. Valetti's father, who had just recovered from a long illness, was not with us, but we had his father's sister, who was older than Mario. She was known, under her theatrical name of Flaminia, in the literary world by several translations, but I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account than in consequence of the story, known throughout Italy, of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. I had been announced to Flaminia as a candidate for literary fame, and she thought she honored me by addressing me at all, but she was wrong, for she displeased me greatly by her face, her manners, her style, even by the sound of her voice. Without saying it positively, she made me understand that being herself an illustrious member of the Republic of Letters, she was well aware that she was speaking to an insect. In order to please her, I spoke to her of the Abbey Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer. Madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word skevra, which means divided, saying that it ought to be pronounced skura, and she added that I ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in Paris, telling me that it would be an important day in my life. She would have kept up the discussion, but her husband, a man of eighty years of age, told her that she was wrong. She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an imposter. Her husband, Louis Riccoboni, better known as Lelio, was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716, and placed it at the service of the regent. He was a man of great merit. He had been very handsome and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public, in consequence not only of his talent, but also of the purity of his life. She was then about fifty years old. Her figure was elegant, her air noble, her manners graceful and easy. She was affable, witty, kind to everybody, simple and unpretending. Her face was an enigma, for it inspired everyone with the warmest sympathy. And yet, if you examined it attentively, there was not one beautiful feature. She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly. Yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she? Beautiful, certainly, but owing to charms unknown to all those who, not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling which compelled them to love her, had not the courage to study her, or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her. Sylvia was the adoration of France, and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her, especially of the plays of Marivaux, for without her, his comedies would never have gone to prosperity. In Sylvia, every quality was from nature, and the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "3729-6852_0000", "speaker": "3729", "seconds": 231.63, "ms": 12752.0, "words": 598, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "my apprenticeship in paris portraits oddities all sorts of things to celebrate the arrival of her son sylvia gave a splendid supper to which she had invited all her relatives and it was a good opportunity for me to make their acquaintance valetti's father who had just recovered from a long illness was not with us but we had his father's sister who was older than mario she was known under her theatrical name of flamenia in the literary world by several translations but I had a great wish to make her acquaintance less on that account than in consequence of the story, known throughout Italy, of the stay that the three literary men of great fame had made in Paris. i had been announced to flaminia as a candidate for literary fame and she thought she honoured me by addressing me at all but she was wrong for she displeased me greatly by her face her manners her style even by the sound of her voice without saying it positively she made me understand that being herself an illustrious member of the republic of letters she was well aware that she was speaking to an insect In order to please her, I spoke to her of the Abbey Conti, and I had occasion to quote two lines of that profound writer. Madame corrected me with a patronizing air for my pronunciation of the word skevra, which means divided, saying that it ought to be pronounced skiora. and she added that i ought to be very glad to have learned so much on the first day of my arrival in paris telling me that it would be an important day in my life she would have kept up the discussion but her husband a man of eighty years of age told her that she was wrong She held her tongue, but from that time she told everybody that I was an imposter. Her husband, Louis Riccoboni, better known as Lelio, was the same who had brought the Italian company to Paris in 1716 and placed it at the service of the regent. he was a man of great merit he had been very handsome and justly enjoyed the esteem of the public in consequence not only of his talent but also of the purity of his life she was then about fifty years old her figure was elegant her air noble her manners graceful and easy she was affable witty kind to everybody simple and unpretending her face was an enigma for it inspired everyone with the warmest sympathy and yet if you examined it attentively there was not one beautiful feature She could not be called handsome, but no one could have thought her ugly. Yet she was not one of those women who are neither handsome nor ugly, for she possessed a certain something which struck one at first sight and captivated the interest. Then what was she?' beautiful certainly but owing to charms unknown to all those who not being attracted towards her by an irresistible feeling which compelled them to love her had not the courage to study her or the constancy to obtain a thorough knowledge of her sylvia was the adoration of france and her talent was the real support of all the comedies which the greatest authors wrote for her especially of the plays of marivaux for without her his comedies would never have gone to posterity. In Sylvia, every quality was from nature, and the art which gave the last touch of perfection to her qualities was never seen." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 11125.9, "words": 601, "errors": 17, "deleted": 12, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 11, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "On the 6th of April, 1830, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was formally organized and thus took on a legal existence. At that time there may have been, and probably were, many times that number who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith. But as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formally took part. Such was the beginning of the Church, soon to be so universally maligned. Its origin was small, a germ, an insignificant seed, hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition. What was there to fear in the voluntary association of six men, avowedly devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes? At first, but a family affair. Opposition to the work has involved successfully the town, the county, the state, the country, and today the Mormon question has been accorded extended consideration at the hands of the national government. Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the Church. Instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most two score of adherents, the organization numbers today many hundred thousand souls. In place of a single hamlet, in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated, there now are about seventy stakes of Zion and about seven hundred organized wards, each ward and stake with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations. The practice of gathering its proselytes into one place prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches, and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad, very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the Church. Nevertheless, the mustard seed, among the smallest of all seeds, has attained the proportions of a tree, and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches. The acorn is now in oak, offering protection and the sweets of satisfaction to every earnest pilgrim journeying its way for truth. From the organization of the Church, the spirit of emigration rested upon the people. Their eyes were from the first, turned in anticipation toward the evening sun. Not merely that the work of proselyting should be carried on in the West, but that the headquarters of the Church should be there established. The Book of Mormon had taught the people the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark-skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes. Within three months from the beginning, the Church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the Latter-day Saints with favor, seeing in the Book of Mormon striking agreement with their own traditions. The first well-established seat of the Church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of Lake Erie. And here soon rose the first temple of modern times. Among their many other peculiarities, the Latter-day Saints are characterized as a temple-building people, as history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been. In the days of their infancy as a Church, while in the thrall of poverty, and amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes, they laid the cornerstone, and in less than three years thereafter, they celebrated the dedication of the Kirtland Temple, a structure at once beautiful and imposing." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13751_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 235.58, "ms": 13916.1, "words": 601, "errors": 10, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "on the sixth of april eighteen thirty the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints was formally organized and thus took on a legal existence at that time there may have been and probably were many times that number who had professed adherence to the newly restored faith but as the requirements of the law governing the formation of religious societies were satisfied by the application of six, only the specified number formerly took part. Such was the beginning of the church. soon to be so universally maligned its origin was small a germ an insignificant seed hardly to be thought of as likely to arouse opposition What was there to fear in the voluntary association of six men, avowedly devoted to peaceful pursuits and benevolent purposes? At first, but a family affair, opposition to the work has involved successfully the town, the state the country and today the mormon question has been accorded extended consideration at the hands of the national government and indeed most civilized nations have taken cognizance of the same Let us observe the contrast between the beginning and the present proportions of the Church. Instead of but six regularly affiliated members, and at most two score of adherents, The organization numbers today many hundred thousand souls. In place of a single hamlet, in the smallest corner of which the members could have congregated, there now are about 70 stakes of Zion and about 700 organized wards. each ward and stake with its full complement of officers and priesthood organizations the practice of gathering its proselytes into one place prevents the building up and strengthening of foreign branches and inasmuch as extensive and strong organizations are seldom met with abroad very erroneous ideas exist concerning the strength of the church nevertheless the mustard seed among the smallest of all seeds has attained the proportions of a tree and the birds of the air are nesting in its branches The acorn is now in oak, offering protection and the sweets of satisfaction to every earnest pilgrim journeying its way for truth. From the organization of the church, The spirit of emigration rested upon the people. Their eyes were from the first, turned in anticipation toward the evening sun. Not merely that the work of proselyting should be carried on in the west, but but that the headquarters of the church should be there established. The Book of Mormon had taught the people the true origin and destiny of the American Indians, and toward this dark-skinned remnant of a once mighty people, the missionaries of Mormonism early turned their eyes, and with their eyes went their hearts and their hopes. Within three months from the beginning, the church had missionaries among the Lamanites. It is notable that the Indian tribes have generally regarded the religion of the Latter-day Saints with favor, seeing in the Book of Mormon striking agreement with their own traditions. The first well-established seat of the church was in the pretty little town of Kirtland, Ohio, almost within sight of Lake Erie. And here soon rose the first temple of modern times. Among their many other peculiarities, the latter-day saints are characterized as a temple-building people, as history proves the Israel of ancient times to have been. In the days of their infancy as a church, while in the thrall of poverty, and amidst the persecution and direful threats of lawless hordes they laid the cornerstone and in less than three years thereafter they celebrated the dedication of the kirtland temple a structure at once beautiful and imposing" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 9783.5, "words": 624, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The troops, once in Utah, had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly bought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then, in their hasty departure, the soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities, in the way of accoutrement and camp equipage. The army found the people in poverty, and left them in comparative wealth. And what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military? For many months, ominous rumblings had been heard. Indications of the gathering storm which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife. It could not be doubted that war was imminent. Already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds, doing nothing for any phase of the public good. But a word further concerning the expedition in general. The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme to weaken the government in its impending struggle with the secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession, but the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the north, while accumulating the munitions of war in the south, to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated and remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army in the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion, are matters of history. It is also told how, at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the Confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah, ostensibly, to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion, which in fact had never come into existence, but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists. When the history of that great struggle with its antecedent, and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indict naught but truth, when prejudice and partisanship are lived down, it may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan, was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion, turned his arms against the flag he had sworn to defend, doffed the blue, donned the gray, and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. Changes many and great followed in bewildering succession in Utah. The people were besought to take sides with the south in the awful scenes of cruel strife. It was openly stated in the east that Utah had allied herself with the cause of secession, and by others that the design was to make Salt Lake City the capital of an independent government. And surely such conjectures were pardonable on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nourished the delusion of Mormon disloyalty. Moreover, had the people been inclined to rebellion, what greater opportunity could they have wished? Already a north and a south were talked of. Why not set up also a west? A supreme opportunity had come, and how was it used? It was at this very time that the overland telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic and the Pacific, was completed. And the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Rigam Young, Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and laws of our country. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences, and in the outrages to which they had been subjected, only the maladministration of laws and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4077-13754_0000", "speaker": "4077", "seconds": 223.61, "ms": 12763.1, "words": 624, "errors": 8, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The troops, once in Utah, had to be provisioned, and everything the settlers could spare was eagerly bought at an unusual price. The gold changed hands. Then, in their hasty departure, the soldiers disposed of everything outside of actual necessities in the way of accoutrement and camp equipage. the army found the people in poverty and left them in comparative wealth and what was the cause of this hurried departure of the military for many months ominous rumblings had been heard indications of the gathering storm which was soon to break in the awful fury of civil strife It could not be doubted that war was imminent. Already the conflict had begun, and a picked part of the army was away in the western wilds, doing nothing for any phase of the public good. But a word further concerning the expedition in general. The sending of troops to Utah was part of a foul scheme to weaken the government in its impending struggle with his secessionists. He was unjustly charged with favoring secession, but the charge was soon disproved. The successful efforts of this officer to disarm the North, while accumulating the munitions of war in the South, to scatter the forces by locating them in widely separated and remote stations, and in other ways to dispose of the regular army in the manner best calculated to favor the anticipated rebellion are matters of history. It is also told how, at the commencement of the rebellion, he allied himself with the Confederate forces, accepting the rank of brigadier general. It was through Floyd's advice that Buchanan ordered the military expedition to Utah. ostensibly to install certain federal officials and to repress an alleged infantile rebellion which in fact had never come into existence but in reality to further the interests of the secessionists when the history of that great struggle with its antecedent and its consequent circumstances is written with a pen that shall indict naught but truth when prejudice and partisanship are lived down It may appear that Jefferson Davis, rather than James Buchanan, was the prime cause of the great mistake. He left Utah in the early stages of the rebellion, turned his arms against the flag he had sworn to defend, doffed the blue, donned the gray, and fell a rebel on the field of Shiloh. changes many and great followed in bewildering succession in utah the people were besought to take sides with the south in the awful scenes of cruel strife it was openly stated in the east that utah had allied herself with the cause of secession and by others that the design was to make salt lake city the capital of an independent government and surely such conjectures were pardonable on the part of all whose ignorance and prejudice still nourished the delusion of mormon disloyalty moreover had the people been inclined to rebellion what greater opportunity could they have wished already a north and a south were talked of why not set up also a west a supreme opportunity had come and how was it used It was at this very time that the Overland Telegraph line, which had been approaching from the Atlantic and the Pacific, was completed, and the first tremor felt in that nerve of steel carried these words from Rigam Young, Utah has not seceded, but is firm for the constitution and laws of our country. The Mormon people saw in their terrible experiences and in the outrages to which they had been subjected only the maladministration of laws and the subversion of justice through human incapacity and hatred. Never even for a moment did they question the supreme authority and the inspired origin of the constitution of their land." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 9877.2, "words": 737, "errors": 48, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 12, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the nephew of one of the standard victorian novelists main hall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of london and its outlying suburbs careful to lose touch with none of them he had written a number of books himself among them a history of dancing a history of costume a key to shakespeare's sonnets a study of the poetry of ernest dowson etc although main hall's enthusiasm was often tiresome and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination his imperturbable good-nature overcame even the people whom he bored most so that they ended up by becoming in a reluctant manner his friends in appearance main hall was astonishingly like the conventional stage englishman of american drama tall and thin with high hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair main hall liked alexander because he was an engineer he had preconceived ideas about everything and his idea about americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics he hated them when they presumed to be anything else it's tremendously well put on to florence merrill and cyril henderson but hilda burgoyne's the hit of the piece he's written a delightful part for her and she's quite inexpressible it's been on only two weeks and i've been half a dozen times already i happen to have mcconnell's box for tonight or there'd be no chance of our getting places there's everything in seeing hilda while she's fresh and apart she's apt to grow a bit stale after a time the ones who have any imagination do hilda burgoyne alexander exclaimed mildly why i haven't heard of her for years main hall laughed it's only lately since mcconnell and his set have got hold of her that she's come up myself i always knew she had it in her if we had one real critic in london but what can one expect do you know alexander main hall looked with perplexity up into the top of the handsome and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger do you know i sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself in a way it would be a sacrifice but dear me we do need someone just then they drove up to the duke of york so alexander did not commit himself but followed main hall into the theater when they entered the stage box on the left the first act was well underway the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of ireland as they sat down a burst of applause drew alexander's attention to the stage miss burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door after all he reflected there's a small probability of her recognizing me she doubtless hasn't thought of me for years the audience had come forewarned evidently and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation everyone smiled and glowed and main hall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing you see he murmured at alexander's ear as the curtain fell on the first act one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness of course hilda is irish the burgoynes have been stage people for generations and she has the irish voice it's delightful to hear it in a london theater she saves her hand too she's at her best in the second act she's really mcconnell's poetic motif you see makes the whole thing a fairy tale the second act opened before philly doyle's underground still with peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pothene across the bog and to bring philly word of what was doing in the world without and of what what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather alexander annoyed by main hall's sighs and exclamations watched her with keen half skeptical interest as main hall had said she was the second act the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot her lightness of touch upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2271_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 238.21, "ms": 12896.7, "words": 737, "errors": 33, "deleted": 9, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the nephew of one of the standard victorian novelists main hall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of london and its outlying suburbs careful to lose touch with none of them he had written a number of books himself among them a history of dancing a history of costume a key to shakespeare's sonnets a study of the poetry of ernest dowson etc although mainhall's enthusiasm was often tiresome and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination his imperturbable good-nature overcame even the people whom he bored most so that they ended up by becoming in a reluctant manner his friends in appearance mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stage englishman of american drama tall and thin with high hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair mainhall liked alexander because he was an engineer he had preconceived ideas about everything and his idea about americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics he hated them when they presumed to be anything else it's tremendously well put on too florence merrill and cyril henderson but hildeburg goynes the hit of the piece He's written a delightful part for her, and she's quite inexpressible. It's been on only two weeks, and I've been half a dozen times already. I happen to have McConnell's box for tonight, or there'd be no chance of our getting places. There's everything in seeing Hilda while she's fresh and apart. She's apt to grow a bit stale after a time. The ones who have any imagination do. Hilda Burgoyne, Alexander exclaimed mildly, why I haven't heard of her for years. Maynall laughed. It's only lately, since McConnell and his set have got hold of her, that she's come up. myself i always knew she had it in her if we had one real critic in london but one can one expect do you know alexander may hall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger do you know i sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself in a way it would be a sacrifice but dear me we do need someone just then they drove up to the duke of york so alexander did not commit himself but followed main hall into the theatre when they entered the stage box on the left the first act was well under way the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of ireland as they sat down a burst of applause drew alexander's attention to the stage miss burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door after all he reflected there's a small probability of her recognizing me she doubtless hasn't thought of me for years the audience had come forewarned evidently and whenever the ragged slip of a donkey girl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation everyone smiled and glowed and mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing you see he murmured at alexander's ear as the curtain fell on the first act one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness Of course, Hilda is Irish, the Burgoynes have been stage people for generations, and she has the Irish voice. It's delightful to hear it in a London theatre. She saves her hand, too. She's at her best in the second act. She's really McConnell's poetic motif, you see. Makes the whole thing a fairy tale. the second act opened before philly doyle's underground still with peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of pothene across the bog and to bring philly word of what was doing in the world without and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather alexander annoyed by mainhall's sighs and exclamations watched her with keen half-sceptical interest as mainhall had said she was the second act the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot her lightness of touch upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 10977.5, "words": 804, "errors": 21, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "On Sunday afternoon, Alexander remembered Miss Burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment. He found it a delightful little place, and he met charming people there. Hilda lived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant, who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty-odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon. Hugh McConnell came with his sister and stood about, managing his tea-cup awkwardly, and watching everyone out of his deep-set, faded eyes. He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere, and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party. The editor of a monthly review came with his wife, and Lady Kildare, the Irish philanthropist, brought her young nephew, Robert Owen, who had come up from Oxford and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. Sarah Frost, the novelist, came with her husband, a very genial and placid old scholar, who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters, he was perfectly rational, and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their bus. They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. American tours have spoiled them, I'm afraid. They have all grown very smart. Lamb wouldn't care a great deal about many of them, I fancy. Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with McConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting, jumped into a handsome, and drove to Bedford Square. When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening, Marie, the pretty little French girl, met him at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. Everyone at Lady Walford's was looking at it. Hilda curtsied. Is that why you think I'm pretty? I've no need for fine clothes in Max Play this time, so I can afford a few duddies for myself. It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I'm able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, for I remember you don't like English cookery. Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. I haven't had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is. Where did you get those etchings? They're quite unusual, aren't they? Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas. She is very much interested in the American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d'Este, you see. He painted that group of cypresses for the salon, and it was bought for the Luxembourg. Alexander walked over to the bookcases. It's the air of the whole place here that I like. You haven't got anything that doesn't belong. Rooms always look better by lamplight, in London at least, though Marie is clean, really clean as the French are. Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden Market yesterday morning. I'm glad, said Alexander simply. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear everyone saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends, he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don't talk of anyone else as they do of you. Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously, I've a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. It's not worth much, but I love it. it." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2273_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 236.69, "ms": 13905.1, "words": 804, "errors": 22, "deleted": 6, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "on sunday afternoon alexander remembered miss burgoyne's invitation and called at her apartment he found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there hilda lived alone attended by a very pretty and competent french servant who answered the dora and brought in the tea alexander arrived early and some twenty-odd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon hugh mcconnell came with his sister and stood about managing his tea-cup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deep-set faded eyes he was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere and alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come into a young girl's party the editor of a monthly review came with his wife and lady kildare the irish philanthropist brought her young nephew robert owen who had come up from Oxford, and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne. Hilda was very nice to him, and he sat on the edge of his chair, flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar. sarah frost the novelist came with her husband a very genial and placid old scholar who would become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension on other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did, and walked with them over to Oxford Street, where they waited for their bus. \"'They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea, \"'and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda. \"'American tours have spoiled them, I'm afraid. \"'They have all grown very smart. \"'Lam wouldn't care a great deal about many of them, I fancy.' Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon. He had a long talk with McConnell, but he got no word with Hilda alone, and he left in a discontented state of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. on thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting jumped into a hansom and drove to bedford square when bartley arrived at bedford square on sunday evening marie the pretty little french girl met him at the door and conducted him upstairs \"'Hilda was writing in her living room, under the light of a tall desk lamp. \"'Everyone at Lady Walford's was looking at it. \"'Hilda curtsied. \"'Is that why you think I'm pretty? \"'I've no need for fine clothes in Mac's play this time, \"'so I can afford a few duddies for myself. \"'It's owing to that same chance, by the way, that I'm able to ask you to dinner.' \"'I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, \"'and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit. \"'I should never have asked you if Molly had been here, \"'for I remember you don't like English cookery.' \"'Alexander walked about the room, looking at everything. \"'I haven't had a chance yet to tell you \"'what a jolly little place I think this is. \"'Where did you get those etchings? \"'They're quite unusual, aren't they?' lady westmere sent them to me from rome last christmas she is very much interested in the american artist who did them they are all sketches made about the villa d'este you see he painted that group of cypresses for the salon and it was bought for the luxembourg alexander walked over to the bookcases it's the air of the whole place here that i like you haven't got anything that doesn't be long rooms always look better by lamp-light in london at least though marie is clean really clean as the french are marie got them all fresh in covent garden market yesterday morning \"'I'm glad,' said Alexander simply. \"'I can't tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here, and to hear everyone saying such nice things about you.' \"'You've got awfully nice friends,' he added humbly, picking up a little jade elephant from her desk. \"'Those fellows are all very loyal, even Mainhall. They don't talk of anyone else as they do of you.' \"'Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously, \"'I've a neat little sum in the bank, too, now, \"'and I own a mite of a hut in Galway. \"'It's not worth much, but I love it.'" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 11755.7, "words": 776, "errors": 16, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 5, "text": "The stop at Queenstown, the tedious passage up the Mercy, were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience. Emerging at Euston at half-past three o'clock in the afternoon, Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square. She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. But why do you let me chatter on like this? Come over to the fire. You're chilled through. She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl. When did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word. I got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train. Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. Hilda watched him with perplexity. There's something troubling you, Bartley. What is it? Bartley bent, lowered over the fire. It's the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I. Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash. What about us, Bartley? She asked in a thin voice. He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame while the coals crackled and the clock ticked, and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word. Everything! Hilda was pale by this time, and her eyes were wide with fright. She looked about desperately, from Bartley to the door, then to the windows, and back again to Bartley. She rose uncertainly, touched his hair with her hand, then sank back upon her stool. I'll do anything you wish me to, Bartley, she said tremulously. I can't stand seeing you miserable. I can't live with myself any longer, he answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy. Hilda watched him from the corner, trembling and scarcely breathing, dark shadows growing about her eyes. It hasn't always made you miserable, has it? Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered. Always. But it's worse now. It's unbearable. It tortures me every minute. I am not a man who can live two lives, he went on feverishly. Each life spoils the other. I get nothing but misery out of either. The world is all there, just as it used to be, but I can't get at it anymore. There is this deception between me and everything. At the word deception spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda's face, as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend and not someone who had to be defied? It was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out. He looked at her, and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire. \"'I'm not a man." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4446-2275_0000", "speaker": "4446", "seconds": 237.66, "ms": 13849.3, "words": 776, "errors": 7, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the stop at queenstown the tedious passage up the mercy were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience emerging at euston at half-past three o'clock in the afternoon alexander had his luggage sent to the savoy and drove at once to bedford square She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs. Alexander paced up and down the hallway, buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat, until she returned and took him up to Hilda's living room. The room was empty when he entered. A coal-fire was crackling in the grate, and the lamps were lit, for it was already beginning to grow dark outside. Alexander did not sit down. He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in. She called his name on the threshold, but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly... that he could not tell just when she did it. She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder. Oh, what a grand thing to happen on a raw day! I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up. \"'I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along. \"'I never dreamed it would be you, Bartley. \"'But why do you let me chatter on like this? \"'Come over to the fire. You're chilled through.' She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth, her knees drawn up to her chin, laughing like a happy little girl. \"'When did you come, Bartley, and how did it happen? You haven't spoken a word.' \"'I got in about ten minutes ago. I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train.' \"'Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze. \"'Hilda watched him with perplexity. \"'There's something troubling you, Bartley. What is it?' \"'Bartley bent lowered over the fire. \"'It's the whole thing that troubles me, Hilda. You and I.' Hilda took a quick, soft breath. She looked at his heavy shoulders and big, determined head, thrust forward like a catapult in leash. \"'What about us, Bartley?' she asked in a thin voice. He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate, and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame, while the coals crackled and the clock ticked, and a street vendor began to call under the window. At last Alexander brought out one word. \"'Everything!' hilda was pale by this time and her eyes were wide with fright she looked about desperately from bartley to the door then to the windows and back again to bartley she rose uncertainly touched his hair with her hand then sank back upon her stool \"'I'll do anything you wish me to, Bartley,' she said tremulously. \"'I can't stand seeing you miserable.' \"'I can't live with myself any longer,' he answered roughly. He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room, seeming to find it too small for him. He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy.' \"'Hilda watched him from the corner, \"'trembling and scarcely breathing, \"'dark shadows growing about her eyes. \"'It hasn't always made you miserable, has it?' \"'Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered. \"'Always. But it's worse now. It's unbearable.' \"'It tortures me every minute. \"'I am not a man who can live two lives,' he went on feverishly. \"'Each life spoils the other. \"'I get nothing but misery out of either. \"'The world is all there, just as it used to be, \"'but I can't get at it any more. \"'There is this deception between me and everything.' At the word deception spoken with such self-contempt, the color flashed back into Hilda's face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. \"'Could you—could you sit down and talk about it quietly, Bartley, as if I were a friend and not someone who had to be defied?' \"'It was myself I was defying, Hilda. I have thought about it until I am worn out.' He looked at her, and his haggard face softened. He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 11661.0, "words": 448, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 8, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 7, "text": "CHAPTER I. ORIGIN. PIGRITA is a terrible word. It engenders a whole world, la pegre, for which read theft, and a hell, la pegrene, for which read hunger. Thus, idleness is the mother. She has a son, theft, and a daughter, hunger. Where are we at this moment, in the land of slang? What is slang? It is, at one and the same time, a nation and a dialect. It is theft in its two kinds, people and language. It is the language of prisons, galleys, convicts, of everything that is most abominable in society. We have never understood this sort of objections. Since that time, two powerful romancers, one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart, the other an intrepid friend of the people, Balzac and Eugene Sue, having represented their ruffians as talking their natural language, as the author of The Last Day of a Condemned Man did in 1828. The same objections have been raised. People repeated, what do authors mean by that revolting dialect, slang is odious, slang makes one shudder? Who denies that? Of course it does. When it is a question of probing a wound, a gulf, a society, a man who has been considered wrong. Since when has it been considered wrong to go too far, to go to the bottom? We have always thought that it was sometimes a courageous act, and, at least, a simple and useful deed, worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted in fulfilled merits. Why should one not explore everything and study everything? Why should one halt on the way? The halt is a matter depending on the sounding line and not on the leads man. Nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity, in the broad light of thought, of the horrible swarming of slang. It seems, in fact, to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night, which has just been torn from its cesspool. One thinks one beholds a frightful, living, and bristling thicket which quivers, rustles, wavers, returns to shadow, threatens, and glares. One word resembles a claw, another an extinguished and bleeding eye. Such and such a phrase seems to move like the claw of a crab. Now, when has horror ever excluded study? Since when has malady banished medicine? Can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper, the bat, the scorpion, the centipede, the tarantula, and one who would cast them back into their darkness, saying, Oh, how ugly that is! He would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language, a philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity. What is slang, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4507-16021_0000", "speaker": "4507", "seconds": 224.99, "ms": 11434.9, "words": 448, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "chapter i origin pigreta is a terrible word it engenders a whole world la pegre for which red theft and a hell la pegren for which red hunger thus idleness is the mother she has a son theft and a daughter hunger where are we at this moment in the land of slang what is slang it is at one and the same time a nation and a dialect it is theft in its two kinds people and language it is the language of prisons galleys convicts of everything that is most abominable in society we have never understood this sort of objections since that time two powerful romancers one of whom is a profound observer of the human heart the other an intrepid friend of the people balzac and eugene sue having represented their ruffians as talking their natural language as the author of the last day of a condemned man did in eighteen twenty eight the same objections have been raised people repeated what do authors mean by that revolting dialect slang is odious slang makes one shudder who denies that of course it does when it is a question of probing a wound a gulf a society since when has it been considered wrong to go too far to go to the bottom we have always thought that it was sometimes a courageous act and at least a simple and useful deed worthy of the sympathetic attention which duty accepted in fulfilled merits why should one not explore everything and study everything why should one halt on the way the halt is a matter depending on the sounding line and not on the leads man nothing is more lugubrious than the contemplation thus in its nudity in the broad light of thought of the horrible swarming of slang it seems in fact to be a sort of horrible beast made for the night which has just been torn from its cesspool one thinks one beholds a frightful living and bristling thicket which quivers rustles wavers returns to shadow threatens and glares one word resembles a claw another an extinguished and bleeding eye such and such a phrase seems to move like the claw of a crab now when has horror ever excluded study since when has malady banished medicine can one imagine a naturalist refusing to study the viper the bat the scorpion the centipede the tarantula and one who would cast them back into their darkness saying oh how ugly that is he would be like a philologist refusing to examine a fact in language a philosopher hesitating to scrutinize a fact in humanity What is slang, properly speaking? It is the language of wretchedness." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 11678.9, "words": 652, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "oh it's easy enough to make a fortune henry said it seems to be easier than it is i begin to think replied philip well why don't you go into something you'll never dig it out of the astor library to the young american here or elsewhere the paths to fortune are innumerable and all open there is invitation in the air and success in all his wide horizon he is embarrassed which to choose and is not unlikely to waste years in dallying with his chances before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object he has no traditions to bind him or guide him and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed and make a new way for himself philip sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself for ten years to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain he felt that he could be a rich man he wanted to be rich he had a sincere desire for a fortune but for some unaccountable reason he hesitated about addressing himself to the narrow work of getting it he never walked broadway a part of its tide of abundant shifting life without feeling something of the flesh of wealth and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well-to-do in this prosperous world especially at night in the crowded theatre philip was too young to remember the old chamber street box where the serious burden led his hilarious and pagan crew in the intervals of the screaming comedy when the orchestra scraped and grunted and tooted its dissolute tunes the world seemed full of opportunities to philip and his heart exulted with a conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting on the stage where virtue had its reward in three easy acts perhaps it was the excessive light of the house or the music or the buzz of the excited talk between acts perhaps it was youth which believed everything but for some reason while philip was at the theatre he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire of cheap sentiment and high and mighty dialogue will there not always be rosen enough for the squeaking fiddle bow and when he advances down to the footlights and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness do we not all applaud so as to drown the rest of the sentence philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman with the exception named but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man without any exception whatsoever is always acquitted by the jury the fact was though philip sterling did not know it that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth the modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement it might be for a book or for the skilful management of some great newspaper or for some daring expedition like that of lieutenant strain or dr kane he was unable to decide exactly what it should be sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit and humbly preach the gospel of repentance and it even crossed his mind that it would be noble to give himself to a missionary life to some benighted region where the date palm grows and the nightingale's voice is in tune and the bulbul sings on the off-nights philip had a good appetite a sunny temper and a clear hearty laugh" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29093_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 235.39, "ms": 14910.5, "words": 652, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "oh it's easy enough to make a fortune henry said it seems to be easier than it is i begin to think replied philip well why don't you go into something you'll never dig it out of the astor library to the young american here or elsewhere the paths to fortune are innumerable and all open there is invitation in the air and success in all his wide horizon he is embarrassed which to choose and is not unlikely to waste years in dallying with his chances before giving himself to the serious tug and strain of a single object he has no traditions to bind him or guide him and his impulse is to break away from the occupation his father has followed and make a new way for himself philip sterling used to say that if he should seriously set himself for ten years to any one of the dozen projects that were in his brain he felt that he could be a rich man he wanted to be rich he had a sincere desire for a fortune but for some unaccountable reason he hesitated about addressing himself to the narrow work of getting it he never walked broadway a part of its tide of abundant shifting life without feeling something of the flesh of wealth and unconsciously taking the elastic step of one well-to-do in this prosperous world especially at night in the crowded theatre philip was too young to remember the old chamber street box for the serious burden led his hilarious and pagan crew in the intervals of the screaming comedy when the orchestra scraped and grunted and tooted its dissolute tunes the world seemed full of opportunities to philip and his heart exulted with a conscious ability to take any of its prizes he chose to pluck perhaps it was the swimming ease of the acting on the stage where virtue had its reward in three easy acts perhaps it was the excessive light of the house or the music or the buzz of the excited talk between acts perhaps it was youth which believed everything but for some reason while philip was at the theatre he had the utmost confidence in life and his ready victory in it delightful illusion of paint and tinsel and silk attire of cheap sentiment and high and mighty dialogue will there not always be rosen enough for the squeaking fiddle bow and when he advances down to the footlights and defiantly informs the audience that he who lays his hand on a woman except in the way of kindness do we not all applaud so as to drown the rest of the sentence philip never was fortunate enough to hear what would become of a man who should lay his hand on a woman with the exception named but he learned afterwards that the woman who lays her hand on a man without any exception whatsoever is always acquitted by the jury the fact was though philip sterling did not know it that he wanted several other things quite as much as he wanted wealth the modest fellow would have liked fame thrust upon him for some worthy achievement it might be for a book or for the skilful management of some great newspaper or for some daring expedition like that of lieutenant strain or dr kane he was unable to decide exactly what it should be sometimes he thought he would like to stand in a conspicuous pulpit and humbly preach the gospel of repentance and it even crossed his mind that it would be noble to give himself to a missionary life to some benighted region where the date-palm grows and the nightingale's voice is in tune and the bulbul sings on the off-nights philip had a good appetite a sunny temper and a clear hearty laugh" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 13134.2, "words": 637, "errors": 9, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the letter that philip sterling wrote to ruth bolton on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the west found that young lady in her own father's house in philadelphia it was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country by the intrusive strip of camden and amboy sand which shuts it off from the atlantic ocean it is a city of steady thrift the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts it was a spring morning and perhaps it was the influence of it that made ruth a little restless satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors her sisters had gone to the city to show some country visitors independence hall gerard college and fairmount waterworks and park four objects which americans cannot die peacefully even in naples without having seen but ruth confessed that she was tired of them and also of the mint she was tired of other things she tried this morning an air or two upon the piano sang a simple song in a sweet but slightly metallic voice and then seating herself by the open window read philip's letter was she thinking about philip as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the tree-tops to the chelton hills or of that world which his entrance into her tradition bound life had been one of the means of opening to her whatever she thought she was not idly musing as one might see by the expression of her face after a time she took up a book it was a medical work and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen as the statutes at large but her face was soon aglow over its pages and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door ruth well mother said the young student looking up with a shade of impatience i wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans mother thee knows i couldn't stand it at westfield the school stifled me it's a place to turn young people into dried fruit i know said margaret bolton with a half-anxious smile thee chafes against all the ways of friends but what will thee do why is thee so discontented if i must say it mother i want to go away and get out of this dead level i had a visit yesterday from the societies committee by way of discipline because we have a piano in the house which is against the rules i hope thee told the elders that father and i are responsible for the piano and that much as thee loves music thee is never in the room when it is played fortunately father is already out of meeting so they can't discipline him i heard father tell cousin abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now thy ways greatly try me ruth and all thy relations i desire thy happiness first of all but thee is starting out on a dangerous path is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people i have not asked him ruth replied with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies who first made up her own mind and then compelled others to make up theirs in accordance with hers" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4970-29095_0000", "speaker": "4970", "seconds": 237.38, "ms": 14030.6, "words": 637, "errors": 7, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the letter that philip sterling wrote to ruth bolton on the evening of setting out to seek his fortune in the west found that young lady in her own father's house in philadelphia it was one of the pleasantest of the many charming suburban houses in that hospitable city which is territorially one of the largest cities in the world and only prevented from becoming the convenient metropolis of the country by the intrusive strip of camden and amboy sand which shuts it off from the atlantic ocean it is a city of steady thrift the arms of which might well be the deliberate but delicious terrapin that imparts such a royal flavor to its feasts it was a spring morning and perhaps it was the influence of it that made ruth a little restless satisfied neither with the outdoors nor the indoors her sisters had gone to the city to show some country visitors independence hall gerard college and fairmount waterworks and park four objects which americans cannot die peacefully even in naples without having seen but ruth confessed that she was tired of them and also of the mint she was tired of other things she tried this morning an air or two upon the piano sang a simple song in a sweet but slightly metallic voice and then seating herself by the open window read philip's letter was she thinking about philip as she gazed across the fresh lawn over the tree-tops to the chelton hills or of that world which his entrance into her tradition-bound life had been one of the means of opening to her whatever she thought she was not idly musing as one might see by the expression of her face after a time she took up a book it was a medical work and to all appearance about as interesting to a girl of eighteen as the statutes at large but her face was soon aglow over its pages and she was so absorbed in it that she did not notice the entrance of her mother at the open door ruth well mother said the young student looking up with a shade of impatience i wanted to talk with thee a little about thy plans mother thee knows i couldn't stand it at westfield the school stifled me it's a place to turn young people into dried fruit i know said margaret bolton with a half-anxious smile thee chafes against all the ways of friends but what will thee do why is thee so discontented if i must say it mother i want to go away and get out of this dead level i had a visit yesterday from the society's committee by way of discipline because we have a piano in the house which is against the rules i hope thee told the elders that father and i are responsible for the piano and that much as thee loves music thee is never in the room when it is played fortunately father is already out of meeting so they can't discipline him i heard father tell cousin abner that he was whipped so often for whistling when he was a boy that he was determined to have what compensation he could get now thy ways greatly try me ruth and all thy relations i desire thy happiness first of all but thee is starting out on a dangerous path is thy father willing thee should go away to a school of the world's people i have not asked him ruth replied with a look that might imply that she was one of those determined little bodies who first made up her own mind and then compelled others to make up theirs in accordance with hers" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 12262.6, "words": 638, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "but the more forgetfulness had then prevailed the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke at first so sound her sleep had been that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy but that she was unhappy she well recollected when the cause came to her memory she would have slept again but it was impossible though her rest had been sound it had not been refreshing she was far from well and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast lord elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered mr sanford shook his head miss milner's health is not good said mrs horton a few minutes after lord elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her so there is to me added sanford with a sarcastic sneer and so there is to me said miss woodley with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh lord elmwood gazed by turns at each as each delivered their sentiments and when they were all silent he looked bewildered not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences soon after breakfast mr sanford withdrew to his own apartment mrs horton in a little time went to hers lord elmwood and miss woodley were left alone he immediately rose from his seat and said i think miss woodley miss milner was extremely to blame though i did not choose to tell her so before mr sanford in giving lord frederick an opportunity of speaking to her unless she means that he shall renew his addresses that i am certain replied miss woodley she does not mean and i assure you my lord seriously it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage i am glad to hear it he returned quickly for although i am not of a suspicious nature yet in regard to her affections for him i cannot but still have my doubts you need have none my lord replied miss woodley with a smile of confidence and yet you must own her behaviour has warranted them has it not been in this particular incoherent and unaccountable the behaviour of a person in love no doubt answered miss woodley don't i say so replied he warmly and is not that a just reason for my suspicions but is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix said miss woodley with the colour mounting into her face not that i know of not one more that i know of he replied with astonishment at what she had insinuated and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong perhaps i am mistaken answered she i believe i am perfectly acquainted with them replied miss woodley with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn after a hesitation it is far from me replied he to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me much less would i take any unfair means to be informed of them to ask any more questions of you i believe would be unfair yet i cannot but lament that i am not as well informed as you are i wish to prove my friendship to miss milner but she will not suffer me and every step that i take for her happiness i take in the most perplexing uncertainty miss woodley sighed but she did not speak he seemed to wait for her reply but as she made none he proceeded if ever breach of confidence could be tolerated i certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorise it as the present" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-23283_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.64, "ms": 14900.1, "words": 638, "errors": 12, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "but the more forgetfulness had then prevailed the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke at first so sound her sleep had been that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy but that she was unhappy she well recollected when the cause came to her memory she would have slept again but it was impossible though her rest had been sound it had not been refreshing she was far from well and sent word of her indisposition as an apology for not being present at breakfast lord elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered mr sandford shook his head miss milner's health is not good said mrs horton a few minutes after lord elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her so there is to me added sanford with a sarcastic sneer and so there is to me said miss woodley with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh lord elmwood gazed by turns at each as each delivered their sentiments and when they were all silent he looked bewildered not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences soon after breakfast mr sandford withdrew to his own apartment mrs horton in a little time went to hers lord elmwood and miss woodley were left alone he immediately rose from his seat and said i think miss woodley miss milner was extremely to blame though i did not choose to tell her so before mr sanford in giving lord frederick an opportunity of speaking to her unless she means that he shall renew his addresses that i am certain replied miss woodley she does not mean and i assure you my lord seriously it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage i am glad to hear it he returned quickly for although i am not of a suspicious nature yet in regard to her affections for him i cannot but still have my doubts you need have none my lord replied miss woodley with a smile of confidence and yet you must own her behaviour has warranted them has it not been in this particular incoherent and unaccountable the behaviour of a person in love no doubt answered miss woodley don't i say so replied he warmly and is not that a just reason for my suspicions but is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix said miss woodley with the colour mounting into her face not that i know of not one more that i know of he replied with astonishment at what she had insinuated and yet with a perfect assurance that she was in the wrong perhaps i am mistaken answered she i believe i am perfectly acquainted with them replied miss woodley with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn after a hesitation it is far from me replied he to wish to be intrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to withhold them from me much less would i take any unfair means to be informed of them to ask any more questions of you i believe would be unfair yet i cannot but lament that i am not as well informed as you are i wish to prove my friendship to miss milner but she will not suffer me and every step that i take for her happiness i take in the most perplexing uncertainty miss woodley sighed but she did not speak he seemed to wait for her reply but as she made none he proceeded if ever breach of confidence could be tolerated i certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorize it as the present" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 16641.2, "words": 703, "errors": 61, "deleted": 10, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "The Cary children had only found it by accident. All their errands took them down the main street to the village, to the Popham's cottage at the foot of Little Lane turning toward the river, or on to the post office and Bill Harmon's store, or to Colonel Wheeler's house and then to the railway station. One afternoon Nancy and Kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastures new, and had spied down in a distant hollow a gloomy gray house almost surrounded by cedars. A grove of poplars to the left of it only made the prospect more depressing. And if it had not been for a great sheet of water nearby, floating with cow lilies and pond lilies, the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary. You won't never see nothing of them, said Mr. Popham. Henry Lord ain't never dark in the village for years, I guess, and the young ones ain't never been to school so far. They have a teacher out from Portland Tuesdays and Fridays, and the rest of the week they study up for him. Henry's about as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mountain, and he's bringing up the children so they'll be just as odd as he is. Is the mother dead? Mrs. Carey asked. Yes, dead these four years, and a good job for her, too. It's an awful queer world, not that I could make a better one. I allers say when folks grumble. Now, if you was given the materials, could you turn out a better world than this one? And when it come to that, what if you heed to furnish your own materials, same as the Lord did? I guess you'd be put to it. Well, as I say, it's an awful queer world. They clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife-beaters. I allers thought a general reproof would be enough punishment for a wife-beater, cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows. And the firebugs can't think of the right name something like Cendiaries. And the breakers of the peace and what not, and yet the law has nothing to say to a man like Han Lord. Doctor of what? asked Mrs. Carey. Blamed if I know. I wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat. People don't have to be doctors of medicine, interrupted Gilbert. Grandfather was Alexander Carey, LLD, doctor of laws, that is. Mr. Popham laid down his brush. I swain to man, he ejaculated. If you don't work hard, you can't keep up with the times. Doctor of laws? Well, all I can say is they need doctrine, and I'm glad they got round to him, only Han Lord ain't the man to do him any good. What has he done to make him so unpopular? queried Mrs. Carey. Done? He ain't done a thing he oughter since he was born. He keeps the thou shalt not commandments first-rate, Han Lord does. He neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death. Poor little Shatter. He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so he could study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper which Osh always alluded to as the White Maria, whether in memory of his wife's Christian name or because his French accent was not up to the mark, no one could say. Mr. Popham exaggerated nothing, but on the contrary left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the House of Lords. Henry Lord with a degree of PhD to his credit had been professor of zoology at a New England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific textbooks. Always irritable, cold, indifferent. He had grown rapidly more so as years went on. And then," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41797_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 239.31, "ms": 15797.1, "words": 703, "errors": 49, "deleted": 8, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the carey children had only found it by accident all their errands took them down the main street to the village to the popham's cottage at the foot of a little lane turning toward the river or on to the post-office and bill harmon's store or to colonel wheeler's house and then to the railway station one afternoon nancy and kathleen had walked up the road in search of pastures new and had spied down in a distant hollow a gloomy gray house almost surrounded by cedars a grove of poplars to the left of it only made the prospect more depressing and if it had not been for a great sheet of water nearby floating with cow lilies and pond lilies the whole aspect of the place would have been unspeakably dreary you won't never see nothin of em said mr popham henry lord ain't never dark in the village for years i guess and the young ones ain't never been to school so far they have a teacher out from portland tuesdays and fridays and the rest of the week they study up for him henry's bout as much of a hermit's if he lived in a hut on a mountain and he's bringing up the children so they'll be just as odd as he is is the mother dead mrs carey asked yes dead these four years and a good job for her too it's an awful queer world not that i could make a better one i allers say when folks grumble now if you was given the materials could you turn out a better world than this one and when it come to that what if you had to furnish your own materials same as the lord did i guess you'd be put to it well as i say it's an awful queer world they clap all the burglars in jail and the murderers and the wife beaters i allers thought a gentle reproof would be enough punishment for a wife beater cause he probably has a lot of provocation that nobody knows and the firebugs can't think of the right name something like cendiaries and the breakers of the peace and what-not and yet the law has nothing to say to a man like hand lord doctor of what asked mrs carey blamed if i know i wouldn't trust him to doctor a sick cat people don't have to be doctors of medicine interrupted gilbert grandfather was alexander carey ll d doctor of laws that is mr popham laid down his brush i swain to man he ejaculated if you don't work hard you can't keep up with the times doctor of laws well all i can say is they need doctrine and i'm glad they got round to him only hen lord ain't the man to do him any good what has he done to make him so unpopular queried mrs carey done he ain't done a thing he oughter since he was born he keeps the thou shalt not commandments first-rate hen lord does he neglected his wife and froze her blood and frightened her to death poor little shadder He gave up his position and shut the family up in that tomb of a house so he could study his books. This information was delivered in the intervals of covering the guest chamber walls with a delightful white moor paper, which Osh always alluded to as the White Maria. whether in memory of his wife's christian name or because his french accent was not up to the mark no one could say mr popham exaggerated nothing but on the contrary left much unsaid in his narrative of the family at the house of lords Henry Lord with a degree of PhD to his credit had been professor of zoology at a New England college, but had resigned his post in order to write a series of scientific textbooks. always irritable cold indifferent he had grown rapidly more so as years went on" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 15932.8, "words": 631, "errors": 27, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through Cousin Anne's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frost could not affect them. Natty Harmon tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening, for the water had to run uphill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink, and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment. The stove and the cellar, always alluded to by Gilbert as the young furnace, had not yet been used, save by way of experiment, but it was believed to be a perfect success. Tonight there was no need of extra heat, and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearthstones. They began with the one in the family sitting room. Colonel Wheeler, Ralph Thurston, Mr. and Mrs. Bill Harmon with Natty and Ruffus, Mr. and Mrs. Popham with Digby and Lally Joy, all standing in admiring groups, and thrilling with delight at the order of events. Mother Carrie sat by the fireplace, little Peter fairly radiant with excitement, leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand. When you come into a house, salute it, and if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it. To all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation, may it be a house of God, a gate of heaven. For every house is builded by some man. But he that built all things is God, seeing that he giveth to every one of us life and breath and all good things. Mother Carrie spoke these words so simply and naturally, as she looked toward her neighbors one after another, with her hand resting on Peter's curly head, that they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say amen. Was that the Bible, Osh? whispered Bill Harmon. Don't know. Most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me. In the hush that followed Mother Carrie's salutation, Gilbert approached with a basket over his arm, and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass and irons in the hearth. Then Nancy handed Peter a loosely bound sheaf, saying, To light this fire I give you a torch. In it are herbs of the field for health of the body, a fern leaf for grace, a sprig of elm for peace, one of oak for strength, with evergreen to show that we live forever in the deeds we have done. Kathleen waved the torch to and fro, as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to-night. Burn, fire, burn, flicker, flicker, flame, whose hand above this blaze is lifted shall be with touch of magic gifted, to warm the hearts of chilly mortals who stand without these open portals. The touch shall draw them to this fire, nigher, nigher, by desire. Whoso shall stand on this hearth's stone, flame, fan, and, shall never, never, stand alone. Whose home is dark and drear and old, whose hearth is cold, this is his own. Flicker, flicker, flicker, flame. Next came Olive's turn to help in the ceremonies. Ralph Thurston had found a line of Latin for them in his beloved Horace. Tibi splendid focus. For you the hearth fire shines. Olive had painted the motto on a long, narrow panel of canvas, and, giving it to Mr. Popham, stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place prepared for it. The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the center of attraction, but he was as dumb as Peter, and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "4992-41806_0000", "speaker": "4992", "seconds": 234.75, "ms": 15150.1, "words": 631, "errors": 20, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Water flowed freely through cousin Anne's expensive pipes that had been buried so deep in their trenches that the winter frost could not affect them. Natty Harmon tried the kitchen pump secretly several times during the evening, for the water had to run up hill all the way from the well to the kitchen sink and he believed this to be a continual miracle that might give out at any moment the stove and the cellar always alluded to by gilbert as the young furnace had not yet been used save by way of experiment but it was believed to be a perfect success to-night there was no need of extra heat and there were great ceremonies to be observed in lighting the fires on the hearthstones they began with the one in the family sitting-room colonel wheeler ralph thurston mr and mrs bill harmon with natty and ruffis mr and mrs popham with digby and lally joy all standing in admiring groups and thrilling with delight at the order of events mother carrie sat by the fireplace little peter fairly radiant with excitement leaning against her knee and waiting for his own great moment now close at hand when ye come into a house salute it and if the house be worthy let your peace come upon it to all those who may dwell therein from generation to generation may it be a house of god a gate of heaven for every house is builded by some man, but he that built all things is God, seeing that he giveth to every one of us life and breath and all good things. mother carrie spoke these words so simply and naturally as she looked toward her neighbors one after another with her hand resting on peter's curly head that they hardly knew whether to keep quiet or say amen \"'Was that the Bible, Osh?' whispered Bill Harmon. \"'Don't know. Most everything she says sounds like the Bible or Shakespeare to me.'\" in the hush that followed mother carrie's salutation gilbert approached with a basket over his arm and quickly and neatly laid a little fire behind the brass and irons in the hearth then nancy handed peter a loosely bound sheaf saying to light this fire i give you a torch in it are herbs of the field for health of the body a fern leaf for grace a sprig of elm for peace one of oak for strength with evergreen to show that we live for ever in the deeds we have done kathleen waved the torch to and fro as she recited some beautiful lines written for some such purpose as that which called them together to-night burn fire burn flicker flicker flame whose hand above this blaze is lifted shall be with touch of magic gifted to warm the hearts of chilly mortals who stand without these open portals the touch shall draw them to this fire nigher nigher by desire whoso shall stand on this hearth-stone flame fanned shall never never stand alone whose home is dark and drear and old whose hearth is cold this is his own flicker flicker flicker flame next came olive's turn to help in the ceremonies ralph thurston had found a line of latin for them in his beloved horace tibi splendet focus for you the hearth fire shines olive had painted the motto on a long narrow panel of canvas and giving it to mr popham stood by the fireside while he deftly fitted it into the place prepared for it The family had feared that he would tell a good story when he found himself the center of attraction, but he was as dumb as Peter, and for the same reason." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 12955.0, "words": 648, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Captain Servadac and his orderly. At the time of which I write, there might be seen in the registers of the Minister of War the following entry. Property. Twelve hundred francs in Rentus. Length of service. Fourteen years, three months, and five days. Rank captain on the staff at Mostagnum. Hector Servadac was thirty years of age. An orphan without lineage and almost without means. Thirsting for glory rather than for gold. Slightly scatterbrained, but warm-hearted, generous, and brave. He was eminently formed to be the protege of the god of battles. For the first year and a half of his existence, he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine-dresser of Medoc. A lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess. In a word, he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things. And around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck. In appearance, Hector Servadac was quite the type of an officer. He was rather more than five feet six inches high. Slim and graceful. With dark curling hair and mustaches. Well-formed hands and feet. And a clear blue eye. He seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed. It must be owned, and no one was more ready to confess it than himself, that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order. We don't spin tops, is a favorite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits. But it must be confessed that Servadac, being naturally idle, was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draftsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famous Uncle Tom at the writing school of St. Cyr. And in the records of his military service, his name had several times been included in the order of the day. Once, in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment. In an instant, Servadac mounted the side-work, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body, shouted, March on! And through a storm of shot, not one of which touched the prostrate officer, the troop passed in safety. Sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore, and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff, altogether being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end. Captain Servadac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment. Of rivals he was well aware he had not a few, and amongst these not the least formidable was the Russian Count Timoshef. And although the young widow was all unconscious of the share she had in the matter, it was she, and she alone, who was the cause of the challenge just given and accepted by her two ardent admirers. During his residence in the Gerbi, Hector Servadac's sole companion was his orderly, Ben Zuf. Ben Zuf was devoted body and soul to his superior officer. His name might seem to imply that he was a native of Algeria, but such was by no means the case. In all his travels, and these had been not a few, he had never beheld scenery which could compete with that of his native home. No cathedral, not even Burgos itself, could vie with the church at Montmartre. Its race-course could well hold its own against that of Pentelique. Its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade. Its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flour, but provided material for cakes of worldwide renown." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28233_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 232.73, "ms": 14489.1, "words": 648, "errors": 26, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "captain servidac and his orderly at the time of which i write there might be seen in the registers of the minister of war the following entry property twelve hundred francs in rentas length of service fourteen years three months and five days rank captain on the staff at most agnam hector servodac was thirty years of age an orphan without lineage and almost without means thirsting for glory rather than for gold slightly scatterbrained but warm-hearted generous and brave he was eminently formed to be the protege of the god of battles For the first year and a half of his existence he had been the foster child of the sturdy wife of a vine-dresser of Medoc, a lineal descendant of the heroes of ancient prowess. In a word, he was one of those individuals whom nature seems to have predestined for remarkable things. and around whose cradle have hovered the fairy godmothers of adventure and good luck. In appearance Hector Servodek was quite the type of an officer. He was rather more than five feet six inches high, slim and graceful, with dark curling hair and mustaches, well-formed hands and feet, and a clear blue eye. he seemed born to please without being conscious of the power he possessed it must be owned and no one was more ready to confess it than himself that his literary attainments were by no means of a high order \"We don't spin tops\" is a favorite saying amongst artillery officers, indicating that they do not shirk their duty by frivolous pursuits. But it must be confessed that Servodac, being naturally idle, was very much given to spinning tops. His good abilities, however, and his ready intelligence had carried him successfully through the curriculum of his early career. He was a good draftsman, an excellent writer, having thoroughly mastered the successor to the famous Uncle Tom at the writing school of St. Cyr. And in the records of his military service his name had several times been included in the order of the day. Once, in action, he was leading a detachment of infantry through an entrenchment. In an instant Servidak mounted the sidework, laid himself down in the gap, and thus filling up the breach by his own body shouted, March on! and through a storm of shot not one of which touched the prostrate officer the troop passed in safety sometimes he would wander on foot upon the sandy shore and sometimes he would enjoy a ride along the summit of the cliff altogether being in no hurry at all to bring his task to an end captain servidac had not yet ventured to declare his attachment of rivals he was well aware he had not a few and amongst these not the least formidable was the russian count timoshef and although the young widow was all unconscious of the share she had in the matter it was she and she alone who was the cause of the challenge just given and accepted by her two ardent admirers during his residence in the gerby hector servidac's sole companion was his orderly ben ben zuf was devoted body and soul to his superior officer his name might seem to imply that he was a native of algeria but such was by no means the case in all his travels and these had been not a few he had never beheld scenery which could compete with that of his native home no cathedral not even burgos itself could vie with the church at montmartre Its race-course could well hold its own against that of Pentelique. Its reservoir would throw the Mediterranean into the shade. Its forests had flourished long before the invasion of the Celts, and its very mill produced no ordinary flour, but provided material for cakes of worldwide renown." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 12098.2, "words": 627, "errors": 61, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 40, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 35, "text": "inquiries unsatisfied. Fast as his legs could carry him, Servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff. It was quite true that a vessel was in sight, hardly more than six miles from the shore, but owing to the increase in the earth's convexity, and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the rigging of the top masts alone was visible above the water. This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight. The Dobrina! exclaimed Servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope. Impossible, sir! rejoined Ben Zoof. There are no signs of smoke. The Dobrina! repeated the captain positively. She is under sail, but she is Count Timoshef's yacht. He was right. If the Count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could Servadac regard him in the light of an adversary. Circumstances had changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events. During the twenty-seven days that she had been absent, the Dobrina, he conjectured, would have explored the Mediterranean, would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to Gorby Island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning its cause. Count Timoshef was no doubt of the time of the time of the sea. He was able to do the same thing. He was able to do the same thing. He was able to do the same thing. He was able to do the same thing. He was able to do the same thing. The wind being adverse, the Dobrina did not make very rapid progress. But as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and the sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoiter the new island, which must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted. Servidac took it for granted that the Dobrina was endeavoring to put in. It occurred to him, however, that the Count, on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. Zephyr and Galette were soon saddled, and in twenty minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast. They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point there was a small, well-sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in the roughest weather, would ensure the calmness of its waters. What, however, seemed most remarkable was the manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood, which was caused in all probability by the proximity of the body of which the huge disk had been so conspicuous on the night of the thirty-first of December, the phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion. Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servidac turned his entire attention to the Dobrina, which, now little more than a mile from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsman, soon carried nothing but her two topsails, Brigantine and Jib." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28240_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 233.94, "ms": 15853.6, "words": 627, "errors": 18, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "inquiries unsatisfied fast as his legs could carry him servodac had made his way to the top of the cliff it was quite true that a vessel was in sight hardly more than six miles from the shore but owing to the increase in the earth's convexity and the consequent limitation of the range of vision the rigging of the topmasts alone was visible above the water This was enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner, an impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight. The Dobrina! exclaimed Servidac. keeping his eye unmoved at his telescope. Impossible, sir, rejoined Ben Zoof. There are no signs of smoke. The Dobrina repeated the captain positively. She is under sail, but she is Count Timoshef's yacht. He was right. if the count were on board a strange fatality was bringing him to the presence of his rival but no longer now could sir veddak regard him in the light of an adversary circumstances had changed and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable events during the twenty-seven days that she had been absent the dobrina he conjectured would have explored the mediterranean would very probably have visited spain france or italy and accordingly would convey to gorby island some intelligence from one or other of those countries he reckoned therefore not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe but upon learning its cause count timoshef was no doubt magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly the wind being adverse the dobrina did not make very rapid progress but as the weather in spite of a few clouds remained calm and the sea was quite smooth she was enabled to hold a steady course it seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine as whoever was on board would be naturally impatient to reconnoitre the new island which must just have come within their view the probability that suggested itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted servidac took it for granted that the dobrina was endeavouring to put in it occurred to him however that the count on discovering an island where he had expected to find the mainland of africa would not unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage zephyr and galette were soon saddled and in twenty minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast they were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point there was a small well-sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage a narrow channel formed a passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea and which even in the roughest weather would insure the calmness of its waters what however seemed most remarkable was the manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood which was caused in all probability by the proximity of the body of which the huge disc had been so conspicuous on the night of the thirty-first of december the phenomenon had been gradually lessening and in fact was now reduced to the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion without doing more than note the circumstance servidac turned his entire attention to the dobrina which now little more than a mile from shore could not fail to see and understand his signals slightly changing her course she first struck her mainsail and in order to facilitate the movements of her helmsman soon carried nothing but her two topsails brigantine and jib" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 12071.0, "words": 655, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The Dabrina, a strong craft of two hundred tons burden, had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the Isle of Wight. Her sea-going qualities were excellent, and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe. Count Timoshef was himself no sailor, but had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of Lieutenant Procope, a man of about thirty years of age and an excellent seaman. Born on the Count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the Emperor Alexander, Procope was sincerely attached, by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty and affection, to his patron's service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant ship he had entered the Imperial Navy, and had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the Count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht, in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in the Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters. The ship could not have been in better hands. The lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession, and his attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend who had given him his education. These men, without exception, were all sons of the Count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued, so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from his consciousness that the Count secretly partook of his own anxiety. Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards. With a favorable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour, had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress. Although only a moderate breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's attraction, rendering the liquid particles so buoyant, that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented. For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of Algeria, but no land appeared to the south. Happily, the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass. The magnetic needle, which in these regions had pointed about twenty-two degrees from the north pole, had never deviated in the least, a proof that, although east and west had apparently changed places, north and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly useless. On the first morning of the cruise, Lieutenant Procope, who, like most Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining these peculiarities to Captain Servodak. The count was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred, as naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them all. It is very evident, said the lieutenant, that ever since the first of January the earth has been moving in a new orbit, and from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the sun. No doubt about that, said Servodak, and I suppose that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a good chance of running into the orbit of Mercury. And finish up by a collision with the sun, added the count. There's no fear of that, sir. The earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated on to the sun. Can you satisfy us of that? asked the count. I can, sir. ." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5105-28241_0000", "speaker": "5105", "seconds": 235.99, "ms": 15126.7, "words": 655, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the dobrina a strong craft of two hundred tons burden had been built in the famous shipbuilding yards in the isle of wight her sea-going qualities were excellent and would have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe count timoshef was himself no sailor but had the greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht in the hands of Lieutenant Procope, a man of about thirty years of age and an excellent seaman. Born on the Count's estates, the son of a serf who had been emancipated long before the famous edict of the Emperor Alexander, Procope was sincerely attached by a tie of gratitude as well as of duty and affection to his patron service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant ship he had entered the Imperial Navy. and had already reached the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed him to the charge of his own private yacht in which he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of his time throughout the winter generally cruising in the mediterranean whilst in the summer he visited more northern waters the ship could not have been in better hands the lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside the pale of his profession and his attainments were alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend who had given him his education these men without exception were all sons of the count's tenants and so tenaciously even out at sea did they cling to their old traditions that it mattered little to them what physical disorganization ensued so long as they felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and master the late astounding events however had rendered procope manifestly uneasy and not the less so from his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his own anxiety steam up and canvas spread the schooner started eastwards with a favourable wind she would certainly have made eleven knots an hour had not the high waves somewhat impeded her progress although only a moderate breeze was blowing the sea was rough a circumstance to be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the earth's attraction rendering the liquid particles so buoyant that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a height that was quite unprecedented for a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably occupied by the coast of algeria but no land appeared to the south happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the compass the magnetic needle which in these regions had pointed about twenty-two degrees from the north pole had never deviated in the least a proof that although east and west had apparently changed places north and south continued to retain their normal position as cardinal points the log and the compass therefore were able to be called upon to do the work of the sextant which had become utterly useless on the first morning of the cruise lieutenant procope who like most russians spoke french fluently was explaining these peculiarities to captain servidac the count was present and the conversation perpetually recurred as naturally it would to the phenomena which remained so inexplicable to them all it is very evident said the lieutenant that ever since the first of january the earth has been moving in a new orbit and from some unknown cause has drawn nearer to the sun no doubt about that said servodac and i suppose that having crossed the orbit of venus we have a good chance of running into the orbit of mercury and finish up by a collision with the sun added the count there's no fear of that sir the earth has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit but she is not incurring any probable risk of being precipitated on to the sun \"Can you satisfy us of that?\" asked the Count. \"I can, sir.\"" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 14208.2, "words": 823, "errors": 11, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "at another time harold asked what is your country olaf have you always been a thrall the thrall's eyes flashed there far off is my country across the water my father was gudbran the big two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle ten sons sat at meat with him and i was the youngest one day he said you are all grown to be men and there is not elbow room here for so many chiefs the eldest of you shall have my farm when i die the rest of you off a viking he had three ships these he gave to three of my brothers but i stayed that spring and built me a boat i made her for only twenty oars because i thought few men would follow me for i was young fifteen years old but i made her in the likeness of a dragon at the prow i carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out i painted the eyes red for anger there stand so i said and glare and hiss at my foes in the stern i carved the tail up almost as high as the head there i put the pilot seat and a strong tiller for the rudder on the breast and sides i carved the dragon scales there she sat on the rollers as fair a ship as i ever saw this is my vow i will sail to norway and i will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches then i will get me a farm and will winter in that land now who will follow me he is but a boy the man said thirty men one after another raised their horns and said on the next morning we got into my dragon and started i sat high in the pilot's seat as our boat flashed down the rollers into the water i made this song and sang it the dragon runs where will she steer where swords will sing where spears will bite where i shall laugh so we harried the coast of norway we ate at many men's tables uninvited many men we found overburdened with gold then i said my dragon's belly is never full and on board went the gold oh it is better to live on the sea and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals a house smells of smoke a ship smells of frolic from a house you see a sooty roof from a ship you see valhalla up and down the water we went to get much wealth and much frolic what of the farm olaf not yet i answered viking is better for summer it was so dark that i could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth i stood with my back to the wall for i wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me now start up the fire i said come come i called when no one obeyed a fire my men laughed yes a stingy host he acts as though he had not expected us but now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood on a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together oh thralls i called to them bring in the table we are hungry what man wants to spend the winter with no guests the thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat they set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it and we sat and watched it boil while we joked at last the supper began the farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat and you cannot wonder for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths you would not eat with us you cannot say no to half of my ale i drink this to your health then i drank half of the hornful and set the rest across the fire to the farmer he took it and smiled saying i thought that all this night's work would be my death oh do not fear that i laughed for a dead man sets no tables so we drank and all grew merrier at last i stood up and said come they cried thank him for that farmer did you ever have such a lordly guest before i went on so i will give out this law that my men shall never leave you alone hawkin there shall be your constant companion friend farmer he shall not leave you day or night whether you are working or playing or sleeping i named nine others and said and these shall follow your thralls in the same way so i set guards over every one in that house" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-33396_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 236.91, "ms": 15410.9, "words": 823, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "at another time harold asked what is your country olaf have you always been a thrall the thrall's eyes flashed there far off is my country across the water my father was gudbran the big two hundred warriors feasted in his hall and followed him to battle ten sons sat at meat with him and i was the youngest one day he said you are all grown to be men and there is not elbow room here for so many chiefs the eldest of you shall have my farm when i die the rest of you off a viking he had three ships these he gave to three of my brothers but i stayed that spring and built me a boat i made her for only twenty oars because i thought few men would follow me for i was young fifteen years old but i made her in the likeness of a dragon at the prow i carved the head with open mouth and forked tongue thrust out i painted the eyes red for anger there stand so i said and glare and hiss at my foes in the stern i carved the tail up almost as high as the head there i put the pilot seat and a strong tiller for the rudder on the breast and sides i carved the dragon's scales there she sat on the rollers as fair a ship as i ever saw this is my vow i will sail to norway and i will harry the coast and fill my boat with riches then i will get me a farm and will winter in that land now who will follow me is but a boy the man said thirty men one after another raised their horns and said on the next morning we got into my dragon and started i sat high in the pilot's seat as our boat flashed down the rollers into the water i made this song and sang it the dragon runs where will she steer where swords will sing where spears will bite where i shall laugh so we harried the coast of norway we ate at many men's tables uninvited many men we found overburdened with gold then i said my dragon's belly is never full and on board went the gold oh it is better to live on the sea and let other men raise your crops and cook your meals a house smells of smoke a ship smells of frolic from a house you see a sooty roof from a ship you see valhalla up and down the water we went to get much wealth and much frolic what of the farm olaf not yet i answered viking is better for summer it was so dark that i could see nothing but a few sparks on the hearth i stood with my back to the wall for i wanted no sword reaching out of the dark for me now start up the fire i said come come i called when no one obeyed a fire my men laughed yes a stingy host he acts as though he had not expected us but now the farmer was blowing on the coals and putting on fresh wood on a bench in a far corner were a dozen people huddled together oh thralls i called to them bring in the table we are hungry what man wants to spend the winter with no guests the thralls were bringing in a great pot of meat they set up a crane over the fire and hung the pot upon it and we sat and watched it boil while we joked at last the supper began the farmer sat gloomily on the bench and would not eat and you cannot wonder for he saw us putting potfuls of his good beef and basket loads of bread into our big mouths you would not eat with us you cannot say no to half of my ale i drink this to your health then i drank half of the hornful and set the rest to cross the fire to the farmer he took it and smiled saying i thought that all this night's work would be my death oh do not fear that i laughed for a dead man sets no tables so we drank and all grew merrier at last i stood up and said come they cried thank him for that farmer did you ever have such a lordly guest before i went on so i will give out this law that my men shall never leave you alone hawkin there shall be your constant companion friend farmer he shall not leave you day or night whether you are working or playing or sleeping i named nine others and said and these shall follow your thralls in the same way so i set guards over every one in that house" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 13564.4, "words": 810, "errors": 25, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "my spirits sank as i looked round me supper-time was still an event in the future i lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what i firmly believe to have been the first french novel ever produced at morwick farm it was one of the masterly and charming stories of dumas the elder in five minutes i was in a new world and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest french company the sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell recalled me in due time to the regions of reality i looked at my watch nine o'clock ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper-room mr meddicroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table on his right-hand side sat a sad and silent daughter she signed to me with a ghostly solemnity to take the vacant place on the left of her father the door opened again while i was still studying the two brothers without i honestly confess being very favorably impressed by either of them a new member of the family circle who instantly attracted my attention entered the room a little cracked that in the popular phrase was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper-room mr meddicroft the elder having not spoken one word thus far himself introduced the newcomer to me with a side glance at his sons which had something like defiance in it a glance which as i was sorry to notice was returned with the defiance on their side by the two young men philip lefrank this is my overlooker mr iago said the old man formally presenting us he is not well he has come over the ocean for rest and change of scene mr iago is an american philip i hope you have no prejudice against americans make acquaintance with mr iago sit together they pointedly drew back from john iago as he approached the empty chair next to me and moved round to the opposite side of the table was the young lady naomi colebrook i looked at ambrose and saw the answer in his face naomi colebrook at last a pretty girl and so far as i could judge by appearances a good girl too describing her generally i may say that she had a small head well carried and well set on her shoulders bright grey eyes that looked at you honestly and meant what they looked a trim slight little figure too slight for our english notions of beauty a strong american accent and a rare thing in america a pleasantly toned voice which made the accent agreeable to english ears our first impressions of people are in nine cases out of ten the right impressions for once in a way i proved a true prophet ambrose made room for naomi to sit between his brother and himself the only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between naomi and me he looked up at naomi doubtingly from his plate and looked down again slowly with a frown when i addressed him he answered constrainedly by way of making my first evening at the farm all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger i discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other through mr iago and through me every time she took a prominent part in this way in keeping the peace melancholy miss metacroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference a more dreary and more disunited family party i never sat at the table with envy hatred malice and uncharitableness are never so essentially detestable to my mind as when they are animated by the sense of propriety and work under the surface but for my interest in naomi and my other interest in the little love looks which i now and then surprised passing between her and ambrose i should never have sat through that supper i wish you good night she laid her bony hands on the back of mr metacroft's invalid chair cut him short in his farewell salutation to me and wheeled him out to his bed as if she were wheeling him out to his grave do you go to your room immediately sir if not may i offer you a cigar provided the young gentleman will permit it so picking his words with painful deliberation and pointing his reference to the young gentleman with one sardonic side look at them mr john iago performed the duties of hospitality on his side i excuse myself from accepting the cigar you were quite right to say no ambrose began never smoke with john iago his cigars will poison you" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5142-36377_0000", "speaker": "5142", "seconds": 235.97, "ms": 15419.7, "words": 810, "errors": 24, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "my spirits sank as i looked round me supper-time was still an event in the future i lighted the candles and took from my portmanteau what i firmly believe to have been the first french novel ever produced at morwick farm it was one of the masterly and charming stories of dumas the elder in five minutes i was in a new world and my melancholy room was full of the liveliest french company the sound of an imperative and uncompromising bell recalled me in due time to the regions of reality i looked at my watch nine o'clock ambrose met me at the bottom of the stairs and showed me the way to the supper-room mr meddicroft's invalid chair had been wheeled to the head of the table on his right-hand side sat his sad and silent daughter she signed to me with a ghostly solemnity to take the vacant place on the left of her father the door opened again while i was still studying the two brothers without i honestly confess being very favorably impressed by either of them a new member of the family circle who instantly attracted my attention entered the room a little cracked that in the popular phrase was my impression of the stranger who now made his appearance in the supper-room mr meddicroft the elder having not spoken one word thus far himself introduced the newcomer to me with a side glance at his sons which had something like defiance in it a glance which as i was sorry to notice was returned with the defiance on their side by the two young men philip lefrank this is my overlooker mr iago said the old man formally presenting us he is not well he has come over the ocean for rest and change of scene mr iago is an american philip i hope you have no prejudice against americans make acquaintance with mr yago sit together they pointedly drew back from john yago as he approached the empty chair next to me and moved round to the opposite side of the table was the young lady naomi colebrook i looked at ambrose and saw the answer in his face naomi colebrook at last a pretty girl and so far as i could judge by appearances a good girl too describing her generally i may say that she had a small head well carried and well set on her shoulders bright gray eyes that looked at you honestly and meant what they looked a trim slight little figure too slight for our english notions of beauty a strong american accent and a rare thing in america a pleasantly toned voice which made the accent agreeable to english ears our first impressions of people are in nine cases out of ten the right impressions for once in a way i proved a true prophet ambrose made room for naomi to sit between his brother and himself the only cheerful conversation was the conversation across the table between naomi and me he looked up at naomi doubtingly from his plate and looked down again slowly with a frown when i addressed him he answered constrainedly by way of making my first evening at the farm all the more embarrassing to me as a stranger i discovered before long that the father and sons were talking indirectly at each other through mr iago and through me every time she took a prominent part in this way in keeping the peace melancholy miss metacroft looked slowly round at her in stern and silent disparagement of her interference a more dreary and more disunited family party i never sat at the table with envy hatred malice and uncharitableness are never so essentially detestable to my mind as when they are animated by the sense of propriety and work under the surface but for my interest in naomi and my other interest in the little love looks which i now and then surprised passing between her and ambrose i should never have sat through that supper i wish you good-night she laid her bony hands on the back of mr metacroft's invalid chair cut him short in his farewell salutation to me and wheeled him out to his bed as if she were wheeling him out to his grave do you go to your room immediately sir if not may i offer you a cigar provided the young gentleman will permit it so picking his words with painful deliberation and pointing his reference to the young gentleman with one sardonic side look at them mr john iago performed the duties of hospitality on his side i excuse myself from accepting the cigar You were quite right to say no, Ambrose began. Never smoke with Johnny Iago. His cigars will poison you." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 12928.5, "words": 670, "errors": 25, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 7, "text": "Eleven o'clock had struck. It was a fine, clear night. They were the only persons on the road, and they sauntered leisurely along to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation provided for the Toledans in the valley or on the banks of their river. Secure, as he thought, in the careful administration of justice in that city and the character of its well-disposed inhabitants, the good Hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family. This young cavalier, whose real name we shall, for good reasons, conceal under that of Rodolfo, was abroad that night with four of his companions, insolent young roysters like himself, and happened to be coming downhill as the old Hidalgo and his family were ascending it. The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rodolfo and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter and the servant-maid. The old Hidalgo indignantly remonstrated. They answered him with mocks and jeers and passed on. But Rodolfo had been struck by the great beauty of Leocadia, the Hidalgo's daughter, and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards. In a moment he communicated his thoughts to his companions, and in the next moment they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please Rodolfo. For the rich, who are open-handed, always find parasites ready to encourage their bad propensities. And thus to conceive this wicked design, to communicate it, approve it, resolve on ravishing Leocadia, and to carry that design into effect was the work of a moment. They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back, and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. Her father shouted, her mother shrieked, her little brother cried, the servant maid tore her own face and hair, but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded, the wailing moved no pity, the clawing and scratching was of no avail, for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot, the silence of the night, and the cruel hearts of the ravishers. Finally the one party went off exalting, and the other was left in desolation and woe. Rodolfo arrived at his own house without any impediment, and Leucadia's parents reached theirs, heartbroken and despairing. Meanwhile, Rodolfo had Leucadia safe in his custody, and in his own apartment. When Leucadia fainted in his arms, he had bandaged her eyes in order that she might not notice the streets through which she passed, or the house into which he took her, and before she recovered her senses, he effected his guilty purpose. Apathy and disgust commonly followed satiated lust. Rodolfo was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia, and made up his mind to lay her in the street, insensible as she was. Who touches me? Am I in bed? Mother, dear father, do you hear me? Alas, too well I perceive that you cannot hear me, and that I am in the hands of enemies. Whoever thou art, she exclaimed suddenly, seizing Rodolfo's hand, if thy soul is capable of pity, grant me one prayer. Having deprived me of honor, now deprive me of life. Let me not survive my disgrace. In mercy, kill me this moment. It is the only amends I ask of you for the wrong you have done me. Confused by the vehemence of her reproaches, Rodolfo knew not what to say or do, and answered not a word. This silence so astonished Leucadia that she began to fancy she was dreaming, or haunted by a phantom. But the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood. This is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong. But it is the greatest which I can ask, or you can grant me, and I will be the only one." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5639-40744_0000", "speaker": "5639", "seconds": 236.83, "ms": 14297.7, "words": 670, "errors": 26, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "eleven o'clock had struck it was a fine clear night they were the only persons on the road and they sauntered leisurely along to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation provided for the toledans in the valley or on the banks of their river secure as he thought in the careful administration of justice in that city and the character of its well-disposed inhabitants the good hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befall his family this young cavalier whose real name we shall for good reasons conceal under that of rudolfo was abroad that night with four of his companions insolent young roysters like himself and happened to be coming down a hill as the old hidalgo and his family were ascending it The two parties, the sheep and the wolves, met each other. Rodolfo and his companions, with their faces muffled in their cloaks, stared rudely and insolently at the mother, the daughter, and the servant-maid. the old hidalgo indignantly remonstrated they answered him with mocks and jeers and passed on but rodolpho had been struck by the great beauty of leocadia the hidalgo's daughter and presently he began to entertain the idea of enjoying it at all hazards in a moment he communicated his thoughts to his companions and in the next moment they resolved to turn back and carry her off to please rudolfo for the rich who are open-handed always find parasites ready to encourage their bad propensities and thus to conceive this wicked design to communicate it approve it resolve on ravish in laocadia and to carry that design into effect was the work of a moment They drew their swords, hid their faces in the flaps of their cloaks, turned back, and soon came in front of the little party, who had not yet done giving thanks to God for their escape from those audacious men. her father shouted her mother shrieked her little brother cried the servant-maid tore her own face and hair but the shouts and shrieks were disregarded the wailing moved no pity the clawing and scratching was of no avail for all was lost upon the loneliness of that spot the silence of the night and the cruel hearts of the ravishers finally the one party went off exulting and the other was left in desolation and woe rudolfo arrived at his own house without any impediment and leucadia's parents reached theirs heart-broken and despairing meanwhile rudolfo had leucadia safe in his custody and in his own apartment while leucadia fainted in his arms he had bandaged her eyes in order that she might not notice the streets through which she passed or the house into which he took her and before she recovered her senses he effected his guilty purpose \"'Apathy and disgust commonly followed satiated lust. \"'Rudolfo was now impatient to get rid of Leucadia \"'and made up his mind to lay her in the street, \"'insensible as she was. \"'Who touches me? Am I in bed? \"'Mother, dear father, do you hear me?' at last too well i perceive that you cannot hear me and that i am in the hands of enemies whoever thou art she exclaimed suddenly seizing rudolpho's hand if thy soul is capable of pity grant me one prayer having deprived me of honor now deprive me of life let me not survive my disgrace in mercy kill me this moment it is the only amends i ask of you for the wrong you have done me confused by the vehemence of her reproaches rudolpho knew not what to say or do and answered not a word this silence so astonished lucadia that she began to fancy she was dreaming or haunted by a phantom but the hands she grasped were of flesh and blood this is but a small recompense for so grievous a wrong but it is the greatest which i can ask or you can grant me" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 12137.3, "words": 562, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "chapter ten the ace of hearts who should i find in the drawing-room talking fluently and smiling after his want to old lady chelford who seemed to receive him very graciously for her at least but captain stanley lake i can't quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentleman-like figure standing among the brandon household gods at this moment communicated to me i glanced round for wilder but he was not there you know captain lake said lord chelford addressing me and lake turned round upon me a little abruptly his odd yellowish eyes a little like those of the sea eagle and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face with a stern and insidious look confronted me the churchyard meteor expired there was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition you're surprised to see me here he said in his very pleasing low tones i lighted on him in the village and i knew miss brandon would not forgive me if i allowed him to go away without coming here he had his hand upon lake's shoulder they are cousins you know we are cousins i am bad at genealogies my mother could tell us all about it we brandons lakes wilders and chelfords at this moment miss brandon entered with her brilliant cousin rachel the blonde and the dark it was a dazzling contrast so chelford led stanley lake before the lady of the castle i thought of the fair brunisende with the captive knight in the hands of her seneschal before her and i fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town and brought him up for judgment whatever lord chelford said miss brandon received it very graciously and even with a momentary smile i wonder she did not smile oftener it became her so but her greeting to captain lake was more than usually haughty and frozen and her features i fancied particularly proud and pale it seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference something of aversion and nearer to a positive emotion than anything i had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face how was it that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them an influence of pain or disturbance wherever almost he looked shake hands with your cousin my dear said old lady chelford peremptorily the little scene took place close to her chair and upon this stage direction the little piece of by-play took place and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on young as he was stanley lake was an old man of the world not to be disconcerted and never saw more than exactly suited him waiting in the drawing room i had some entertaining talk with miss lake her conversation was lively and rather bold not at all in the coarse sense but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life both both good-humoured and sarcastic and had carried into her rustic sequestration the melancholy and precocious lore of her early london experience when lord chelford joined us i perceived that wilder was in the room and saw a very cordial greeting between him and lake" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32865_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 231.1, "ms": 14727.0, "words": 562, "errors": 19, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "chapter ten the ace of hearts who should i find in the drawing-room talking fluently and smiling after his want to old lady chelford who seemed to receive him very graciously for her at least but captain stanley lake i can't quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure standing among the brandon household gods at this moment communicated to me I glanced round for Wilder, but he was not there. \"'You know Captain Lake,' said Lord Shelford, addressing me, and Lake turned round upon me. a little abruptly his odd yellowish eyes a little like those of the sea eagle and the ghost of his smile that flickered on his singularly pale face with a stern and insidious look confronted me the churchyard meteor expired there was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition you're surprised to see me here he said in his very pleasing low tones i lighted on him in the village and i knew miss brandon would not forgive me if i allowed him to go away without coming here he had his hand upon lake's shoulder they are cousins you know we are all cousins i am bad at genealogies my mother could tell us all about it we brandons lake's Wilder's and Chelford's. At this moment, Miss Brandon entered with her brilliant cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark, it was a dazzling contrast. so chalford led stanley lake before the lady of the castle i thought of the fair brunisende with the captive knight in the hands of her seneschal before her and i fancied he said something of having found him trespassing in her town and brought him up for judgment whatever lord shelford said miss brandon received it very graciously and even with a momentary smile i wonder she did not smile oftener it became her so but her greeting to captain lake was more than usually haughty and frozen and her features i fancied particularly proud and pale it seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere indifference Something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely apathetic face. How was it? that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to glean from them an influence of pain or disturbance wherever almost he looked shake hands with your cousin my dear said old lady chilford peremptorily the little scene took place close to her chair and upon this stage direction the little piece of by-play took place and the young lady coldly touched the captain's hand and passed on young as he was stanley lake was an old man of the world not to be disconcerted and never saw more than exactly suited him Waiting in the drawing-room, I had some entertaining talk with Miss Lake. Her conversation was lively, and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics and views of life, both good-humoured and sarcastic. and had carried into her rustic sequestration the melancholy and precocious lore of her early london experience when lord chalford joined us i perceived that wilder was in the room and saw a very cordial greeting between him and lake" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 13216.1, "words": 650, "errors": 27, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Miss Lake declined the carriage tonight. Her brother was to see her home, and there was a leave-taking, and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed, after the manner of their kind. To Captain Lake, Miss Brandon's adieux were as cold and haughty as her greeting. Old women always like rascals. And he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by Miss Lake, much as he disliked Stanley. For Wilder followed them out with Lord Shelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes, and I found myself near Miss Brandon for the first time that evening. And much to my surprise, she was first to speak, and that rather strangely. You seem to be very sensible, Mr. de Crisseron. Pray, tell me, frankly, what do you think of all this? I mean, of the family arrangements in which, as Mr. Wilder's friend, you seem to take an interest, she said. There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. I think it a very wise measure, I replied, much surprised. Very wise, exactly. But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly? Do you really think your friend, Mr. Wilder, cares about me? I take that for granted. In the nature of things it can hardly be otherwise, I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr. Wilder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, Mr. de Crisseron. And without awaiting my reply, she made some remark, which I forget, to Lady Chalford, who sat at a little distance, and, appearing quite absorbed in her new subject, she placed herself close beside the dowager and continued to chat in a low tone. I was vexed with myself, for having managed with so little skill a conversation which, opened so oddly and frankly, might have placed me on relations so nearly confidential with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime, I had formed a new idea of her. She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness there was something almost contemptuous. By this time, Lord Chalford and Wilder returned, and, disgusted, rather, with myself, I ruminated on my want of generalship. In the meantime, Miss Lake, with her hand on her brother's arm, was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath which, through wild copes and broken clumps near the park, emerges upon the still darker road which passes along the wooded glen by the mills and skirts the little paling of the recluse lady's garden. They had not walked far when Lake suddenly said, and he made a little dip of his cane towards Brandon Hall, over his shoulder. I don't think they pretend to like one another. It is quite understood. It was all, you know, Old Lady Chelford's arrangement. And Dorcas is so supine. I believe she would allow herself to be given away by anyone, and to anyone, rather than be at the least trouble. She provokes me. But I thought she liked Sir Harry Brackton. He's a good-looking fellow, and Queen's Brackton is a very nice thing, you know. Yes, so they said. But that would, I think, have been worse. Something may be made of Mark Wilder. He has some sense and caution, has not he? But Sir Harry is wickedness itself. Why, what has Sir Harry done? That is the way you women run away with things. If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he is Beelzebub at once. Crackton's a very good fellow, I can assure you." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32866_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 237.25, "ms": 15945.4, "words": 650, "errors": 25, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "miss lake declined the carriage to-night her brother was to see her home and there was a leave-taking and the young ladies whispered a word or two and kissed after the manner of their kind to captain lake miss brandon's Adieu were as cold and haughty as her greeting. Old women always like rascals. And he added something still less complimentary. I suppose the balance of attraction and repulsion was overcome by Miss Lake, much as he disliked Stanley. for wilder followed them out with lord shelford to help the young lady into her cloak and galoshes and i found myself near miss brandon for the first time that evening and much to my surprise she was first to speak and that rather strangely you seem to be very sensible mr de crisseron pray tell me frankly what do you think of all this i mean of the the family arrangements in which as mr wilder's friend you seem to take an interest she said \"'There can hardly be a second opinion, Miss Brandon. \"'I think it a very wise measure,' I replied, much surprised. \"'Very wise, exactly.' But don't these very wise things sometimes turn out very foolishly? Do you really think your friend, Mr. Wilder, cares about me? \"'I take that for granted. In the nature of things it can hardly be otherwise,' I replied, a good deal startled and perplexed by the curious audacity of her interrogatory. It was very foolish of me to expect from Mr. Wilder's friend any other answer. You are very loyal, Mr. de Crissero. And without awaiting my reply, she made some remark, which I forget, to Lady Chalford. who sat at a little distance and appearing quite absorbed in her new subject she placed herself close beside the dowager and continued to chat in a low tone I was vexed with myself for having managed with so little skill a conversation which, opened so oddly and frankly, might have placed me on relations so nearly confidential with that singular and beautiful girl. I ought to have rejoiced, but we don't always see what most concerns our peace. In the meantime, I had formed a new idea of her. She was so unreserved, it seemed, and yet in this directness there was something almost contemptuous. By this time, Lord Chalford and Wilder returned, and, disgusted, rather, with myself, i ruminated on my want of generalship in the meantime miss lake with her hand on her brother's arm was walking swiftly under the trees of the back avenue towards that footpath which through wild copes and broken clumps near the park emerges upon the still darker road which passes along the wooded glen by the mills and skirts the little paling of the recluse ladies garden they had not walked far when lake suddenly said and he made a little dip of his cane towards brandon hall over his shoulder i don't think they pretend to like one another it is quite understood it was all you know old lady chelford's arrangement and dorcas is so supine i believe she would allow herself to be given away by anyone and to anyone, rather than be at the least trouble. She provokes me. \"But I thought she liked Sir Harry Brackton. He's a good-looking fellow, and Queen's Brackton is a very nice thing, you know.\" \"Yes, so they said, but that would, I think, have been worse.\" Something may be made of Mark Wilder. He has some sense and caution, has not he? But Sir Harry is wickedness itself. Why, what has Sir Harry done? That is the way you women run away with things. If a fellow's been a little bit wild, he's Beelzebub at once. Bracton's a very good fellow, I can assure you." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 11156.1, "words": 626, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's Farm, inquired this grand and beautiful young lady. Well, she was better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed and this moment coming down, and would be very happy to see Miss Brandon if she would step into the drawing room. Miss Brandon took old Tamar's hand gently and pressed it. I suppose she was glad and took this way of showing it. And tall, beautiful, graceful, in rustling silks, she glided into the tiny drawing room silently and sat down softly by the window, looking out upon the flowers and the fallen leaves, mottled in light and shadow. So there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies. The small door opened and Rachel entered, with her hand extended and a pale smile of welcome. Women can hide their pain better than we men, and bear it better, too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel Lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile. She was sanguine. She was genial and companionable. And her spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face. This transient spring and lighting up are beautiful, a glamour beguiling our senses. It wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment and leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild, forgetful frolic. \"Rachel, dear, I'm so glad to see you,\" said Dorcas, placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice. There was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner, which was new to Rachel, and comforting. And she returned to the greeting as kindly, and felt more like her former self. \"You have been more ill than I thought, darling, and you are still far from quite recovered.\" Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye struck her with a painful surprise. \"I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be. That is, quite well,\" answered Rachel. \"You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often.\" They sat down side by side and Dorcas held her hand. \"Maybe, Rachel dear, you would like to drive a little?\" \"No, darling, not yet. It is very good of you.\" \"You have been so ill, my poor Rachel. Ill and troubled, dear. Troubled in mind and miserably nervous.\" Poor Rachel! Her nature recoiled from deceit and she told, at all events, as much of the truth as she dared. Dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave enquiry, and then Miss Brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet and was thinking a little sternly, maybe, and with a look of pain, still holding Rachel's hand, she said, with a sad sort of reproach in her tone. \"Rachel dear, you have not told my secret?\" \"No indeed, Dorcas. Never, and never will. And I think, though I have learned to fear death, I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it.\" She spoke with a sudden energy, which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek and made her languid eyes flash. \"Thank you, Rachel. My cousin Rachel. My only friend. I ought not to have doubted you.\" And she kissed her again. \"Chelford had a note from Mr. Wilder this morning. Another note. His coming delayed. And something of his having to see some person who is abroad,\" continued Dorcas, after a little pause." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "5683-32879_0000", "speaker": "5683", "seconds": 236.89, "ms": 15239.1, "words": 626, "errors": 8, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Dorcas Brandon pays Rachel a visit. It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redmond's farm. inquired this grand and beautiful young lady well she was better though she had had a bad night she was up and dressed and this moment coming down and would be very happy to see miss brandon if she would step into the drawing room miss brandon took old tamar's hand gently and pressed it i suppose she was glad and took this way of showing it and tall beautiful graceful in rustling silks she glided into the tiny drawing-room silently and sat down softly by the window looking out upon the flowers and the fallen leaves mottled in light and shadow so there came a step and a little rustling of feminine draperies The small door opened and Rachel entered, with her hand extended and a pale smile of welcome. Women can hide their pain better than we men, and bear it better too, except when shame drops fire into the dreadful chalice. But poor Rachel Lake had more than that stoical hypocrisy which enables the tortured spirits of her sex to lift a pale face through the flames and smile. She was sanguine. She was genial and companionable. and our spirits rose at the sight of a friendly face this transient spring and lighting up are beautiful a glamour beguiling our senses it wakens up the frozen spirit of enjoyment and leaves the sad faculties forth on a wild forgetful frolic rachel dear i'm so glad to see you said dorcas placing her arms gently about her neck and kissing her twice or thrice there was something of sweetness and fondness in her tones and manner which was new to rachel and comforting and she returned the greeting as kindly and felt more like her former self you have been more ill than i thought darling \"'and you are still far from quite recovered.' \"'Rachel's pale and sharpened features and dilated eye \"'struck her with a painful surprise. \"'I shall soon be as well as I am ever likely to be, \"'That is quite well,' answered Rachel. \"'You have been very kind. I've heard of your coming here and sending so often.' They sat down side by side, and Dorcas held her hand. \"'Maybe, Rachel dear, you would like to drive a little?' \"'No, darling, not yet. It is very good of you.' you have been so ill my poor rachel ill and troubled dear troubled in mind and miserably nervous poor rachel her nature recoiled from deceit and she told at all events as much of the truth as she dared dorcas's large eyes rested upon her with a grave enquiry and then miss brandon looked down in silence for a while on the carpet and was thinking a little sternly maybe and with a look of pain still holding rachel's hand she said with a sad sort of reproach in her tone \"'Rachel, dear, you have not told my secret.' \"'No, indeed, Dorcas, never, and never will. \"'And I think, though I have learned to fear death, \"'I would rather die than let Stanley even suspect it.' She spoke with a sudden energy, which partook of fear and passion, and flushed her thin cheek and made her languid eyes flash. Thank you, Rachel, my cousin Rachel, my only friend. I ought not to have doubted you. And she kissed her again. \"Chelford had a note from Mr. Wilder this morning, another note, his coming delayed, and something of his having to see some person who is abroad,\" continued Dorcas, after a little pause." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 13432.1, "words": 703, "errors": 17, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "robin started back angrily and faced the squire he began a confused complaint against the wizard who had vanished behind the curtain on the left master montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently give not so earnest a mind to these mummeries child twas all a trick what did you see a golden fortune and a happy life he was like unto my father in a way and yet was not my father also there was a stripling page who turned into a maid very beautiful she was and i would know her again in any guise ah master robin have you eyes for the maids already this was so sweet a lady sir and in some manner i do think she died and the man shot an arrow meaning me to see where it fell since there would be her grave that is what i think he meant but then the picture was gone as quickly as it came sister nell do you hear these marvels take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you these things are true that the glass mirror shows lording answered the wizard reappearing the crystal cannot lie he spoke unwittingly in a natural key robin turned round upon him very shrewdly friend wizard said the youth have you ever played at archery in that green wood which your glass showed us so prettily like as not young master though i am an old man remember that the crystal cannot lie it tells me now that you and i will meet in rivalry to shoot together for a strange prize the freedom of sherwood the wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass what would you do he whispered fiercely keep your secret for i will not betray you at this moment there up rose without the booth a most deafening tumult forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss but master will who peeped out first needed no more than one glance he gave way to the others very readily and retreated unperceived by the squire and mistress fitzuth to the rear of the tent cries of a nottingham a nottingham rent the air and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings as the squire and robin looked forth they beheld a flying crowd of men and women all running and shouting before them fled the stroller and his three sons capless and terrified the old man's triangle had been torn from him and was being jangled now by nodding him fingers there is trouble before us come robin said montfichet as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels what is the tumult and rioting cried out the squire authoritatively and he blew twice on the silver whistle which hung at his belt the strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemies resolutely when they had gained his side they were out of breath and their story was a confused one the little tumbler recovered first nay we refused their request most politely most noble said the little stroller and then they became vexed and would have snatched your purse from us i could not see my boy injured excellence for but doing his duty as one of cumberland's sons so i did push this fellow it is enough said george gamewale sharply as he turned upon the crowd shame on you citizens cried he i blush for my fellows of nottingham is this how you play an english game to force your rivals to lose to you any way cumberland has won my purse the test was fairly set and fairly where we conquered surely we can submit with good grace tis fine for you to talk old man answered the lean sullen apprentice but i wrestled with this fellow and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout spoke the squire losing all patient and it was to you that i gave another person consolation go your ways ere i cause you to be more soundly whipped than your deserts which should bring heavy enough punishment for sure" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70968_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.61, "ms": 15722.7, "words": 703, "errors": 13, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Robin started back angrily and faced the squire. He began a confused complaint against the wizard, who had vanished behind the curtain on the left. Master Montfichet shrugged his shoulders indulgently. give not so earnest a mind to these mummeries child twas all a trick what did you see a golden fortune and a happy life he was like unto my father in a way and yet was not my father Also, there was a stripling page who turned into a maid. Very beautiful she was, and I would know her again in any guise. Ah, Master Robin, have you eyes for the maids already? this was so sweet a lady sir and in some manner i do think she died and the man shot an arrow meaning me to see where it fell since there would be her grave that is what i think he meant but then the picture was gone as quickly as it came \"Sister Nell, do you hear these marvels? Take your place and let us see what the crystal can show to you.\" \"These things are true that the glass mirror shows, Lording,\" answered the wizard reappearing. \"The crystal cannot lie.\" he spoke unwittingly in a natural key robin turned round upon him very shrewdly friend wizard said the youth half at random have you ever played at archery in that green wood which your glass showed us so prettily like as not young master though I am an old man. Remember that the crystal cannot lie. It tells me now that you and I will meet in rivalry to shoot together for a strange prize, the freedom of Sherwood. The wizard hastily drew near and pretended to peer into the glass. What? \"What would you do?\" he whispered fiercely. \"Keep your secret, for I will not betray you.\" At this moment there uprose without the booth a most deafening tumult. Forthwith all ran to the opening of the tent to see what might be amiss, but Master Will, who peeped out first, needed no more than one glance. he gave way to the others very readily and retreated unperceived by the squire and mistress fitzuth to the rear of the tent cries of a nottingham a nottingham rent the air and added to the clangor of bells and trumpetings as the squire and robin looked forth they beheld a flying crowd of men and women all running and shouting Before them fled the stroller and his three sons, capless and terrified. The old man's triangle had been torn from him, and was being jangled now by nodding him fingers. \"'There is trouble before us. Come, Robin,' said Montfichet as he stepped out with the lad close at his heels. \"'What is the tumult and rioting?' cried out the squire authoritatively, and he blew twice on the silver whistle which hung at his belt. the strollers rushed at once toward the old man and faced their enemies resolutely when they had gained his side they were out of breath and their story was a confused one the little tumbler recovered first nay we refused their request most politely most noble said the little stroller and then they became vexed and would have snatched your purse from us \"'I could not see my boy injured, excellence, for but doing his duty as one of Cumberland's sons. So I did push this fellow.' \"'It is enough,' said George Gamewell sharply, as he turned upon the crowd. \"'Shame on you, citizens!' cried he. \"'I blush for my fellows of Nottingham!' is this how you play an english game to force your rivals to lose to you any way cumberland has won my purse the test was fairly set and fairly where we conquered surely we can submit with good grace \"'Tis fine for you to talk, old man,\" answered the lean, sullen apprentice, \"but I wrestled with this fellow, and do know that he played unfairly in the second bout,\" spoke the squire, losing all patient. \"And it was to you that I gave another person consolation. Go your ways, ere I cause you to be more soundly whipped than your desserts, which should bring heavy enough punishment for sure.\"" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 12011.8, "words": 757, "errors": 19, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "young Fitzuth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire there befell an anxious interview mistress Fitzuth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath robin was perplexed indeed his ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he as a true montfichet must adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of gamewell most of all robin thought of his father what would he counsel remain Fitzuth and fight your own way in the world boy that is what he might say in the end robin decided to sleep upon the matter in any case he would not consent to rob jeffrey of his inheritance and he told old gamewell this to his face when i am gone you can do what you will with the place boy the old man had answered i have no son but of course the fees and revenues will be yours if for whim you beggar yourself i cannot stay you but take it whilst i live and wear montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight for you will never disgrace our dutch and i warrant me perchance tis jeffrey's sole chance that you should wear the badge of gamewell i might choose to bequeath it elsewhere the lad had checked him then never that sir he had said let gamewell land be ruled for ever by gamewell's proper lord i pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere i answer you it is what i would suggest myself go to her then had come the argument with his mother which had unsettled him more than before he went down to discuss with warrenton and studley the means by which they best could bring the horse and arms to jeffrey and it soon became evident that no one other than warrenton dare attempt it for fear of betraying the son to his still angry father are you sure warrenton that you will perform this business right carefully robin asked over and over again until the old servant became vexed i am part of the house of montfichet lording snapped warrenton at last and it is not reasonable to think that i will turn against myself as it were be sure that the horse and his trappings will be safely carried to my second master jeffrey at the hour given do you keep the squire employed in talk and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own that you may hear him if he moves so robin and will went back to the hall and presently the squire's voice was heard through the arras which covered the north entrance to the apartment he was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall holding him by the arm for a moment robin and will were unperceived then the squire's bright keen eyes discovered them now to bed boy cried he dropping his detaining hold of the priest tis late and i go myself within a short space dismiss your squire robin and bid me goodean an early sleeper maketh a sound man did i see you with warrenton robin fitzuth put in the clerk curiously i would fain have some talk with him on the matter of archery i am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in nottingham as any in england i would say said gamewell proudly that is in his day now that age is upon warrenton and his master cunning in such matters is to seek yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come now kiss me boy and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to-morrow good night god keep thee robin he seemed to take it for granted that robin would in the end consent to become of the house of gamewell already squire george looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres even as slowly did warrenton the shrewd and faithful man at arms truth to tell the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye young fitzuth embraced his uncle and bade him good-night with real affection there was no chance to alter his sleeping room to one nearer to gamewell's chamber" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "61-70970_0000", "speaker": "61", "seconds": 238.29, "ms": 16283.7, "words": 757, "errors": 22, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 3, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "young fitzuth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he had come out from his converse with the squire there befell an anxious interview mistress fitzuth arguing for and against the squire's project in a breath robin was perplexed indeed His ambition was fired by the squire's rosy pictures of what he, as a true Montfichet, must adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell. Most of all Robin thought of his father. What would he counsel? Remain, Fitzuth, and fight your own way in the world, boy. that is what he might say in the end robin decided to sleep upon the matter in any case he would not consent to rob jeffrey of his inheritance and he told old gamewell this to his face when i am gone you can do what you will with the place boy the old man had answered i have no son but of course the fees and revenues will be yours if for whim you beggar yourself i cannot stay you but take it whilst i live and wear montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so brave a sight for you will ne'er disgrace our stuchin i warrant me perchance tis jeffrey's sole chance that you should wear the badge of gamewell i might choose to bequeath it elsewhere the lad had checked him then never that sir he had said let gamewell land be ruled forever by gamewell's proper lord i pray you to let me take counsel with my mother ere i answer you it is what i would suggest myself go to her Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more than before. He went down to discuss with Warrington and Stutley the means by which they best could bring the horse and arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became evident that no one other than Warrington dare attempt it. for fear of betraying the son to his still angry father. \"Are you sure, Warrington, that you will perform this business right carefully?\" Robin asked over and over again, until the old servant became vexed. \"I am part of the House of Montfichet, Lording,\" snapped Warrington at last. and it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against myself, as it were. Be sure that the horse in his trappings will be safely carried to my second master, Geoffrey, at the hour given. do you keep the squire employed in talk and find excuse to lie in the little room next to his own that you may hear him if he moves so robin and will went back to the hall and presently the squire's voice was heard through the arrows which covered the north entrance to the apartment he was in deep converse with the clerk and entered the hall holding him by the arm for a moment robin and will were unperceived then the squire's bright keen eyes discovered them now to bed boy cried he dropping his detaining hold of the priest tis late and i go myself within a short space dismiss your squire robin and bid me goodean an early sleeper maketh a sound man did i see you with warrenton robin fitzuth put in the clerk curiously i would fain have some talk with him on the matter of archery i am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in nottingham as any in england i would say said gamewell proudly that is in his day now that age is upon warrenton and his master cunning in such matters is to seek yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is come now kiss me boy and keep clear head and ready hand for the joustings and games to-morrow good-night god keep thee robin he seemed to take it for granted that robin would in the end consent to become of the house of gamewell already squire george looked upon him as heir to the hall and its acres even as slowly did warrenton the shrewd and faithful man-at-arms truth to tell the old servant did not regard the prospect with too kind an eye young fitzuth embraced his uncle and bade him good-night with real affection there was no chance to alter his sleeping-room to one nearer to gamewell's chamber" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 13860.0, "words": 534, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Out in the woods stood a nice little fir tree. The place he had was a very good one. The sun shone on him. As to fresh air, there was enough of that. And round him grew many large-sized comrades, pines as well as firs. But the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown-up tree. He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air. He did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods looking for wild strawberries. The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree and said, Oh, how pretty he is! What a nice little fir! But this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and after another year he was another long bit taller. For with fir trees one can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. Oh, then would the birds build nests among my branches, And when there was a breeze I could bend with as much stateliness as the others. Neither the sunbeams, nor the birds, nor the red clouds which morning and evening sailed above him gave the little tree any pleasure. In winter, when the snow lay glittering on the ground, a hare would often come leaping along and jump right over the little tree. Oh, that made him so angry! But two winters were passed, and in the third the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it. To grow and grow, to get older and be tall, thought the tree. That, after all, is the most delightful thing in the world. In autumn, the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees. This happened every year. And the young fir tree, that had now grown to a very comely size, trembled at the sight. For the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, The branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. They were hardly to be recognized. And then they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? What became of them? Have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you, for they lifted themselves on high most majestically. But how does the sea look in reality? What is it like? Rejoice in thy growth, said the sunbeams. Rejoice in thy vigorous growth, and in the fresh life that moveth within thee. And the wind kissed the tree, and the Jew wept tears over him, but the fir understood it not. These young trees, and they were always the finest looking, retained their branches. They were laid on carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. Where are they going to? Asked the fir. Asked the fir-tree, trembling in every bough. And then? What happens then? We did not see anything more. It was incomparably beautiful." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "672-122797_0000", "speaker": "672", "seconds": 234.07, "ms": 15505.0, "words": 534, "errors": 5, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "out in the woods stood a nice little fir-tree the place he had was a very good one the sun shone on him as to fresh air there was enough of that And round him grew many large-sized comrades, pines as well as firs. But the little fir wanted so very much to be a grown-up tree. he did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air he did not care for the little cottage children that ran about and prattled when they were in the woods looking for wild strawberries The children often came with a whole pitcher full of berries, or a long row of them threaded on a straw, and sat down near the young tree and said, Oh, how pretty he is! What a nice little fir! But this was what the tree could not bear to hear. At the end of a year he had shot up a good deal, and after another year he was another long bit taller. For with fir-trees one can always tell by the shoots how many years old they are. \"'Oh, then would the birds build nests among my branches!' and when there was a breeze i could bend with as much stateliness as the others neither the sunbeams nor the birds nor the red clouds which morning and evening sailed above him gave the little tree any pleasure in winter when the snow lay glittering on the ground a hare would often come leaping along and jump right over the little tree oh that made him so angry but two winters were past and in the third the tree was so large that the hare was obliged to go round it to grow and grow to get older and be tall thought the tree that after all is the most delightful thing in the world in autumn the woodcutters always came and felled some of the largest trees this happened every year and the young fir tree that had now grown to a very comely size trembled at the sight For the magnificent great trees fell to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and the trees looked long and bare. They were hardly to be recognized. And then they were laid in carts, and the horses dragged them out of the wood. Where did they go to? What became of them? Have you not met them anywhere? I may congratulate you, for they lifted themselves on high most majestically. Okay. but how does the sea look in reality what is it like rejoice in thy growth said the sunbeams rejoice in thy vigorous growth and in the fresh life that moveth within thee and the wind kissed the tree and the jew wept tears over him but the fir understood it not these young trees and they were always the finest looking retained their branches they were laid on carts and the horses drew them out of the wood where are they going to asked the fir asked the fir-tree trembling in every bough and then what happens then we did not see anything more it was incomparably beautiful" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 13805.1, "words": 760, "errors": 38, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Kenneth and Beth refrained from telling the other girls or Uncle John of old Will Rogers' visit, but they got Mr. Watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check. It was a serious crime indeed, Mr. Watson told them, and Tom Gates bade fair to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act. But it was a generous act, too, said Beth. I can't see it in that light, said the old lawyer. It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The Squireses are a selfish, hard-fisted lot, and the old lady especially is a well-known virago. But they could not have proven a case against Lucy if she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff, so this boy was doubly foolish in ruining himself to get sixty dollars to pay an unjust demand. He was soft-hearted and impetuous, said Beth, and being in love he didn't stop to count the cost. Indeed, there's never an excuse for crime. The young man is guilty, and he must suffer the penalty. Is there no way to save him? asked Kenneth. If the prosecution were withdrawn, and the case settled with the victim of the forged check, then the young man would be allowed his freedom, but under the circumstances, I doubt if such an arrangement could be made. We're going to try it anyhow, was the prompt decision. So as soon as breakfast was over the next morning, Beth and Kenneth took one of the automobiles, the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time. Fairview was twelve miles away, but by ten o'clock they drew up at the county jail. They were received in the little office by a man named Markham, who was the jailer. He was a round-faced, respectable-appearing fellow, but his mood was distinctly unsociable. We wish to talk with him, answered Kenneth. Talk? What's the good? You're no friend of Tom Gates. I am Kenneth Forbes of Elmhurst. I'm running for representative on the Republican ticket, said Kenneth quietly. Oh, say, that's different, observed Markham, altering his demeanor. You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, Mr. Forbes. I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerves something awful. Maybe see Gates at once, asked Kenneth. Surely, I'll take you to a cell myself. It's just shocking how much a little thing is stopping smoking will rile up a fellow. Come this way, please. They followed the jailer along a succession of passages. Sometimes I'm that yearning for a smoke, I'm nearly crazy, and I don't know which is worse, dying one way or the other. He unlocked the door and called. Here's visitors, Tom. Thank you, Mr. Markham, replied a quiet voice as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. How are you feeling today? Worse, Tom. Worse than ever, replied the jailer gloomily. Well, stick it out, old man. Don't give in. I won't, Tom. Smoking'll kill me, sure, and there's a faint hope of living through this struggle to give it up. This visitor is Mr. Forbes of Elmhurst, and the young lady is... Mr. Graff, said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically, as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it. Will you leave us alone, please, Mr. Markham? Sorry we haven't any reception room in the jail. All visits has to be made in the cells. Then he deliberately locked Kenneth and Beth in with the forger and retreated along the passage. Sit down, please, said Gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice. There's a bench here. Why did you do it? asked Beth. He was silent and turned his face away. A fresh, wholesome-looking boy was Tom Gates, with steady gray eyes, an intelligent forehead, but a sensitive, rather weak mouth. He was of sturdy, athletic build, and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material, but well-brushed and cared for. Beth thought his appearance pleasing and manly. We have heard something of your story, said Kenneth, and are interested in it. Do you know Lucy, sir? asked the young man." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68769_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 238.76, "ms": 16545.7, "words": 760, "errors": 39, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "kenneth and beth refrained from telling the other girls or uncle john of old will rogers visit but they got mr watson in the library and questioned him closely about the penalty for forging a check it was a serious crime indeed mr watson told them and tom gates bade fair to serve a lengthy term in the state's prison as a consequence of his rash act but it was a generous act too said beth i can't see it in that light said the old lawyer It was a deliberate theft from his employers to protect a girl he loved. I don't doubt the girl was unjustly accused. The Squireses are a selfish, hard-fisted lot, and the old lady especially is a well-known virago. but they could not have proven a case against Lucy if she was innocent, and all their threats of arresting her were probably a mere bluff. So this boy was doubly foolish in ruining himself to get $60 to pay an unjust demand. he was soft-hearted and impetuous said beth and being in love he didn't stop to count the cost indeed there is never an excuse for crime the young man is guilty and he must suffer the penalty is there no way to save him asked kenneth if the prosecution were withdrawn and the case settled with the victim of the forged check then the young man would be allowed his freedom but under the circumstances i doubt if such an arrangement could be made we're going to try it anyhow was the prompt decision so as soon as breakfast was over the next morning beth and kenneth took one of the automobiles the boy consenting unwillingly to this sort of locomotion because it would save much time fairview was twelve miles away but by ten o'clock they drew up at the county drail they were received in the little office by a man named markham who was the jailer he was a round-faced respectable appearing fellow but his mood was distinctly unsociable we wish to talk with him answered kenneth talk what's the good you're no friend of tom gates i am kenneth forbes of elmhurst i'm running for representative on the republican ticket said kenneth quietly \"'Oh, say, that's different,' observed Markham, altering his demeanor. \"'You mustn't mind my being gruff and grumpy, Mr. Forbes. \"'I've just stopped smoking a few days ago, and it's got on my nerves something awful.' May we see Gates at once? asked Kenneth. Surely, I'll take you to a cell myself. It's just shocking how much a little thing is stopping smoking will rile up a fellow. Come this way, please. They followed the jailer along a succession of passages. Sometimes I'm that yearning for a smoke, I'm nearly crazy, and I don't know which is worst. \"'Die in one way or the other.' \"'He unlocked the door and called. \"'Here's visitors, Tom.' \"'Thank you, Mr. Markham,' replied a quiet voice \"'as a young man came forward from the dim interior of the cell. \"'How are you feeling today?' \"'Worse, Tom, worse than ever,' replied the jailer gloomily. \"'Well, stick it out, old man. Don't give in.' \"'I won't, Tom. Smokin''ll kill me, sure, \"'and there's a faint hope of livin' through this struggle to give it up.' \"'This visitor is Mr. Forms of Elbhurst, and the young lady is—' \"'Mr. Graff,' said Kenneth, noticing the boy's face critically, \"'as he stood where the light from the passage fell upon it. \"'Will you leave us alone, please, Mr. Markham? \"'Sorry we haven't any reception-room in the jail. \"'All visits has to be made into the cells.' then he deliberately locked kenneth and beth in with the forger and retreated along the passage sit down please said gates in a cheerful and pleasant voice there's a bench here why did you do it asked beth he was silent and turned his face away a fresh wholesome-looking boy was tom gates with steady gray eyes an intelligent forehead but a sensitive rather weak mouth he was of sturdy athletic build and dressed neatly in a suit that was of coarse material but well brushed and cared for beth thought his appearance pleasing and manly we have heard something of your story said kenneth and are interested in it do you know lucy sir asked the young man" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 12324.0, "words": 610, "errors": 26, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "CHAPTER XII. BETH MEETS A REBUFF The campaign was now growing warm. Mr. Hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and that defeat met his political ruin. So, to the surprise of the Democratic Committee and all his friends, Mr. Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes' aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness, and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary. He did not laugh at his opponent any longer. To himself, he admitted their shrewdness and activity, and acknowledged that an experienced head was managing their affairs. One of Mr. Hopkins' first tasks, after calling his faithful henchmen around him, was to make a careful canvas of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished. This canvas was quite satisfactory, for final reports showed only about a hundred majority for Forbes. But to offset this cheering condition, the Democratic agents who made the canvas reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm and faint-hearted, and might easily be induced to change their votes. This was what must be prevented. The weak-kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition. The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County, where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the Democratic strongholds of the state. The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties included in the 8th district were strongly Republican, and being more populous, gave to the district its natural Republican majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature was the candidate for sheriff of Monroe County. A man named Cummings was the Republican, and Seth Reynolds, the livery man, the Democratic nominee. Under ordinary conditions, Reynolds was sure to be elected, but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect Hopkins. This trading votes, which was often done, was considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice, and consented readily to the arrangement. Mr. Cummings, who was to profit by the deal, was called to a private consultation, and agreed to slaughter Kenneth Forbes to secure votes for himself. But the Honorable Erastus had no intention of taking chances, or monkeying with fate, as he tersely expressed it. Every scheme known to politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend Marshall, the manager at the mill, and this was why Kenneth and Beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mr. Hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners. The description she gave of the coming reception to the Women's Political League was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them, and thus Mr. Hopkins failed to notice who the occupants of the other vehicle were. Louise was making great preparations to entertain the Women's Political League, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady, and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes. Forbes. Forbes." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6829-68771_0000", "speaker": "6829", "seconds": 237.43, "ms": 14872.7, "words": 610, "errors": 18, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "chapter twelve beth meets a rebuff the campaign was now growing warm mr hopkins had come to realize that he had the fight of his life on his hands and that defeat met his political ruin so to the surprise of the democratic committee and all his friends mr hopkins announced that he would oppose forbes's aggressive campaign with an equal aggressiveness and spend as many dollars in doing so as might be necessary he did not laugh at his opponent any longer to himself he admitted their shrewdness and activity and acknowledged that an experienced head was managing their affairs one of mr hopkins first tasks after calling his faithful henchmen around him was to make a careful canvass of the voters of his district to see what was still to be accomplished this canvass was quite satisfactory for final reports showed only about a hundred majority for forbes but to offset this cheering condition the democratic agents who made the canvass reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the district and that many of those who declared for hopkins were lukewarm and faint-hearted and might easily be induced to change their votes this was what must be prevented the weak-kneed contingency must be strengthened and fortified and a couple of hundred votes in one way or the other secured from the opposition the democratic committee figured out a way to do this monroe county where both forbes and hopkins resided was one of the democratic strongholds of the state The portions of Washington and Jefferson counties included in the 8th district were as strongly Republican and being more populous gave to the district its natural Republican majority. on the same ticket that was to elect a representative to the state legislature was the candidate for sheriff of monroe county a man named cummings was the republican and seth reynolds the liveryman the democratic nominee under ordinary conditions reynolds was sure to be elected but the committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect hopkins this trading votes which was often done was considered by the politicians quite legitimate The only thing necessary was to fix Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. Reynolds saw the political necessity of the sacrifice and consented readily to the arrangement. mr cummings who was to profit by the deal was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter kenneth forbes to secure votes for himself but the honourable erastus had no intention of taking chances or monkeying with fate as he tersely expressed it every scheme known to politicians must be worked and none knew the intricate game better than hopkins this was why he held several long conferences with his friend marshall the manager at the mill and this was why kenneth and beth discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy mr hopkins had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the elmhurst grounds and she had given him accurate information concerning the movements of the girl campaigners the description she gave of the coming reception to the women's political league was so humorous and diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the young people passed them and thus mr hopkins failed to notice who the occupants of the other vehicle were louise was making great preparations to entertain the women's political league an organization she had herself founded the members of which were wives of farmers in the district these women were flattered by the attention of the young lady and had promised to assist in electing mr forbes" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 12170.6, "words": 655, "errors": 7, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French, in return, invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From the respect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen, and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appeared an object of worship. The queen mother gave the French the most affectionate reception. France was her native country, and she had suffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made her forget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affection for it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received and where a brilliant future opened for them. The count had thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs. Bodily, I suppose. Yes, bodily. This has indeed been a harassing day, continued the young man, his eyes fixed upon his friend. Yes, a night's rest will probably restore me. Shall I leave you? You will be frank with me? I always am. Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent? I suspect. Because he is in love with Madame, is it not? One could almost swear to it, to observe him. You are mistaken. There is nothing of the kind. It is you who are mistaken, Raoul. I have read his distress in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day. I can perceive love clearly enough. I am convinced of what I say, said the count. Now inform me, count, said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him. What happened to render you so clear-sighted? I mean that. Generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening. I am fatigued. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens you tonight. It is annoyance, then. What annoyance? That of this evening. The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean? Yes, you are right. But I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. Yes, certainly. But this is the very thing that amazes me so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice. What did you say to him? You think he loves her. You admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then. The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him, Count, replied Raoul, I will repeat to you. Listen to me. In those very terms I even added more. How would you regard us, I said, if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyal enough, to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master? But, continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, heaven be praised, the French, who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless even, are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance. Thus, it is that the honor of three is saved, our country, our masters, and our own. It is thus that we act, your grace. It is thus that every man of honor ought to act. But now I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-75918_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 16559.8, "words": 655, "errors": 9, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and French rivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to the illustrious travellers. The English forwarded to the French baskets of flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet the arrival of the young princess. The French, in return, invited the English to a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations were poured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. from the respect paid her on all sides she seemed like a queen and from the adoration with which she was treated by two or three she appeared an object of worship the queen-mother gave the french the most affectionate reception france was her native country and she had suffered too much unhappiness in england for england to have made her forget france she taught her daughter then by her own affection for it that love for a country where they had both been hospitably received and where a brilliant future opened for them the count had thrown himself back on his seat leaning his shoulders against the partition of the tent and remained thus his face buried in his hands with heaving chest and restless limbs bodily i suppose yes bodily this has indeed been a harassing day continued the young man his eyes fixed upon his friend yes a night's rest will probably restore me shall i leave you you will be frank with me i always am can you imagine why buckingham has been so violent i suspect because he is in love with madame is it not one could almost swear to it to observe him you are mistaken there is nothing of the kind it is you who are mistaken raoul i have read his distress in his eyes in his every gesture and action the whole day i can perceive love clearly enough i am convinced of what i say said the count now inform me count said ralph fixing a penetrating look upon him what happened to render you so clear-sighted i mean that generally you are less out of spirits than seems to be the case this evening i am fatigued believe me it is not fatigue that saddens you to-night it is annoyance then what annoyance that of this evening The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean? Yes, you are right, but I do not think any danger is to be apprehended from Buckingham. You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. yes certainly but this is the very thing that amazes me so much you spoke to him in a low tone of voice what did you say to him you think he loves her you admit that such a passion does not give way readily he does not love her then The noble character of the young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easily be read. What I said to him, Count, replied Rao, I will repeat to you, listen to me. in those very terms i even added more how would you regard us i said if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough disloyal enough to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respects for a princess who is the destined wife of our master but continued row not interrupted by this movement of his friend heaven be praised the french who are pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet reckless even are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on matters of such high importance thus it is that the honor of three is saved our country our masters and our own it is thus that we act your grace it is thus that every man of honor ought to act. But now I entreat you, leave me to myself. Do you wish it?" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 12993.5, "words": 687, "errors": 16, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Goliath makes another discovery. \"Oh, Cynthia,\" gasped joy at length, \"isn't it too comical? We're just as far from it all as ever!\" And they both fell to chuckling again. They were certainly no near the solution of their problem, for, facing the room once more, the mysterious picture looked forth, the portrait of two babies. They were plump, placid babies, aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were: twins, and evidently brother and sister, for one youngster's dress being a trifle severe in style indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. \"The poor little things,\" cried Cynthia, \"think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now what is the sense of it? Two innocent babies like that!\" But Joyce had not been listening. All at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion. \"I've got it,\" she announced. \"It came to me all of a sudden. Of course those babies were our twins. Brother and sister. Anyone can tell that.\" \"Well don't you see? One of them, the girl, was our lovely lady.\" \"The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now what have you to say, Cynthia Sprague?\" \"You must be right,\" admitted Cynthia. \"I thought we were stumped again when I first saw that picture, but it's been of some use after all. Do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing?\" All this while, Cynthia had been standing, candle in one hand and dust cloth in the other. At that point she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dust cloth. Presently she spoke. \"Joyce, do you think there would be any harm in my doing something I've longed to do ever since we first entered this house?\" \"What in the world is it?\" queried Joyce. \"Why, I want to dust this place, and clear out of the way some of the dirt and cobwebs. They worry me terribly, and besides, I'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it.\" \"Good scheme, Sin!\" cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. \"I'll tell you what. We'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything. I'm sure, for we won't disturb things at all. But let's go and finish our studying now, and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon!\" \"Filled with fresh enthusiasm, the two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt, have been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair. Smuggling the house cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window unobserved that afternoon, proved no easy task, for Cynthia had added a whisked broom and dustpan to the outfit. But a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed, till Goliath, basking on the verandah steps, spied it. The lure proved too much for him, and he came sporting after it, as friskly as a young kitten, much to Cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him. \"Oh, let him come along,\" she urged. \"I do love to see him about that old house. He makes it sort of cozier.\" And so Goliath followed into the Borden-Up house." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-76324_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.31, "ms": 13742.1, "words": 687, "errors": 16, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "goliath makes another discovery oh cynthia gasped joy at length isn't it too comical we're just as far from it all as ever and they both fell to chuckling again they were certainly no near the solution of their problem for facing the room once more the mysterious picture looked forth the portrait of two babies they were plump placid babies aged probably about two or three years and they appeared precisely alike it took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were twins and evidently brother and sister for one youngsters dress being a trifle severe in style indicated that it was doubtless a boy these two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes fat red cheeks and adorable fluffy golden curls They were pictured as sitting hand in hand on a green bank under a huge spreading tree and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple. The poor little things, cried Cynthia, think of them having been turned to the wall all these years. Now what is the sense of it? two innocent babies like that but joyce had not been listening all at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion i've got it she announced it came to me all of a sudden of course those babies were twins brother and sister anyone can tell that well don't you see One of them, the girl, was our lovely lady. The twin brother did something she didn't like, and she turned his picture to the wall. Hers happened to be on the same frame too, but she evidently didn't care about it. Now what have you to say, Cynthia Sprague? you must be right admitted cynthia i thought we were stumped again when i first saw that picture but it's been of some use after all do you suppose the miniature was a copy of the same thing All this while, Cynthia had been standing, candle in one hand and dust cloth in the other. At that point, she put the candlestick on the table and stood gazing intently at the dust cloth. Presently, she spoke. \"'Joyce, do you think there would be any harm in my doing something I've longed to do ever since we first entered this house?' what in the world is it queried joyce why i want to dust this place and clear out of the way some of the dirt and cobwebs may worry me terribly and besides i'd like to see what this lovely furniture looks like without such quantities of dust all over it good scheme sin cried Joyce, instantly delighted with the new idea. I'll tell you what, we'll come in here this afternoon with old clothes on and have a regular house cleaning. It can't hurt anything, I'm sure, for we won't disturb things at all. But let's go and finish our studying now and get that out of the way. Hurrah for house cleaning this afternoon! Filled with fresh enthusiasm, the two girls rushed out to hurry through the necessary studies before the anticipated picnic of the afternoon. If their respective mothers had requested them to perform so arduous a task as this at home, they would, without doubt, have been instantly plunged into deep despair. This thought, however, did not enter the heads of the enthusiastic pair. Smuggling the house-cleaning paraphernalia into the cellar window unobserved that afternoon proved no easy task, for Cynthia had added a whisked broom and dustpan to the outfit. but a long end soon worked out and trailed behind her unnoticed till goliath basking on the veranda steps spied it the lure proved too much for him and he came sporting after it as friskily as a young kitten much to cynthia's delight when she caught sight of him oh let him come along she urged i do love to see him about that old house he makes it sort of cosier and so goliath followed into the boarded-up house" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 13036.7, "words": 559, "errors": 4, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "i suppose i must have gone on blindly for some time for when i again became conscious i stood beside a river while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead strange noises filled the air sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me which presently changed into hisses until it seemed as if a thousand serpents were creeping all around me the waters of the river looked black while above me were weird fantastic forms leaping in the stillness of the night no words were spoken no language was uttered save that of wailing and hissing and that somehow was indistinct as if it existed in fancy and not in reality by and by however i heard a voice onward it said and i became unconscious again i realized my existence in a vague shadowy way i stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple large grey lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religious system but which was now terrible in its weird desolation i watched eagerly but they faded away leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place i heard a noise behind i turned and saw kaffir his black eyes shining while in his hand he held a gleaming knife he lifted it above his head as if to strike but i had the strength of ten men and i hurled him from me he looked at me with a savage leer onward said a distant voice the temple vanished and with it all my realization of life save a vague fancy that i was moving somewhere i knew not where i stood by a well remembered spot i was by the side of drear water pond around me was a stretch of common land on which grew heather and firs in front of me were noiseless waters a dismal sight at the best of times but awful as i saw them across the pond in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees no sound broke the stillness of the night the wind had gone to rest the moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds i stood alone each minute my surroundings became more real i recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness the story of its evil influence came back to me and in my bewildered condition i wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said what was that the waters moved distinctly moved near to where i stood and from their dark depths something appeared i could not at first tell what what could it be the ghost of some murdered man or woman what then a human hand large and shapely appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond nothing more not even the wrist to which it might be attached it did not beckon or indeed move at all it was as still as the hand of death i stood motionless and watched while the outline of the hand became more clear then i gave an awful shudder the hand was red i gave a shriek and for a time remembered nothing more" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "6930-81414_0000", "speaker": "6930", "seconds": 234.11, "ms": 14587.2, "words": 559, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "i suppose i must have gone on blindly for some time for when i again became conscious i stood beside a river while tall trees waved their leafless branches overhead strange noises filled the air sometimes wailing sounds were wafted to me which presently changed into hisses until it seemed as if a thousand serpents were creeping all around me the waters of the river looked black while above me were weird fantastic forms leaping in the stillness of the night no words were spoken no language was uttered save that of wailing and hissing and that somehow was indistinct as if it existed in fancy and not in reality by and by however i heard a voice onward it said and i became unconscious again i realized my existence in a vague shadowy way i stood beneath the ruined walls of an eastern temple large grey lizards crawled in and out among the crevices of the rocks and seemed to laugh as they sported amidst what was once the expression of a great religious system but which was now terrible in its weird desolation i watched eagerly but they faded away leaving nothing save the feeling that a terrible presence filled the place i heard a noise behind i turned and saw kaffir his black eyes shining while in his hand he held a gleaming knife He lifted it above his head as if to strike, but I had the strength of ten men, and I hurled him from me. He looked at me with a savage leer. Oh! onward said a distant voice the temple vanished and with it all my realization of life save a vague fancy that i was moving somewhere i knew not where i stood by a well-remembered spot i was by the side of drear water pond around me was a stretch of common land on which grew heather and firs in front of me were noiseless waters a dismal sight at the best of times but awful as i saw them across the pond in the near distance loomed the dark fir trees no sound broke the stillness of the night the wind had gone to rest the moon shone dimly from behind the misty clouds i stood alone each minute my surroundings became more real i recognized more clearly the objects which had struck me during my first visit while the stories which had been told came back to me with terrible distinctness the story of its evil influence came back to me and in my bewildered condition i wondered whether there was not some truth in what had been said what was that the waters moved distinctly moved near to where i stood and from their dark depths something appeared i could not at first tell what what could it be the ghost of some murdered man or woman what then a human hand large and shapely appeared distinctly on the surface of the pond nothing more not even the wrist to which it might be attached it did not beckon or indeed move at all it was as still as the hand of death i stood motionless and watched while the outline of the hand became more clear then i gave an awful shudder the hand was red i gave a shriek and for a time remembered nothing more" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 13473.3, "words": 556, "errors": 25, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Three Modes of Management. To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in effecting such a substitution as that is entirely to mistake its nature and design. The only government of the parent over the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority. Complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are, one, government by maneuvering and artifice. Two, by reason and affection. Three, by authority. She brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth. And before the chase comes to the door, she sends Mary out into the garden with her sister, under pretense of showing her a bird's nest which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill in diverting the child's mind and amusing her with something else in the garden until the chase is gone. As the chase drives away, Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep, her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust, and suspicion of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor surge and swell among those delicate organizations on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend, doing perhaps an irreparable injury. The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement that she was going to the doctors, it may or may not have been true, most likely not. For mothers who manage their children on this system find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood so vague and ill-defined that they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love Mama, I am sure, and wish to have her get well soon, so you will be a good girl, I know, and not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly, won't you? Then I shall love you, and your Papa will love you, and after I get well, we will take you to ride with us someday. The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child and partly on an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. Why can't you take me? asks Mary. I cannot tell you why now, replies the mother, but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason. And at any rate, I have decided that you are not to go. If you are a good girl, and do not make any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the front doorstep, and can see the chase come to the door, and see your father and me get in and drive away, and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a good bye. Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission, In Mary's continents, the mother would add," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79730_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 228.76, "ms": 14993.4, "words": 556, "errors": 26, "deleted": 7, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "The Three Modes of Management To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in effecting such a substitution as that, is entirely to mistake its nature and design. The only government of the parent over the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority. Complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. They are 1. Government by maneuvering an artifice. 2. by reason and affection three by authority she brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth and before the chase comes to the door she sends mary out into the garden with her sister under pretense of showing her a bird's nest which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill in diverting the child's mind and amusing her with something else in the garden until the chaise is gone. As the chaise drives away, Mary stands bewildered and perplexed on the doorstep, her mind in a tumult of excitement, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust, and suspicion of her mother disappointment vexation and ill-humour surge and swell among those delicate organizations on which the structure and development of the soul so closely depend doing perhaps an irreparable injury The mother, as soon as the chase is so far turned that Mary can no longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfaction on her face at the ingenuity and success of her little artifice. In respect to her statement that she was going to the doctors, it may or may not have been true, most likely not. For mothers who manage their children on this system find the line of demarcation between deceit and falsehood so vague and ill-defined, that they soon fall into the habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without hesitation, anything which will serve the purpose in view. You love Mama, I am sure. and wish to have her get well soon so you will be a good girl i know and not make any trouble but will stay at home contentedly won't you then i shall love you and your papa will love you and after i get well \"We will take you to ride with us someday.\" The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies partly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly on an appeal to her affection. Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this afternoon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we cannot take you with us. \"Why can't you take me?\" asks Mary. \"I cannot tell you why now,\" replies the mother, \"but perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think there is a good reason; and at any rate I have decided.\" that you are not to go if you are a good girl and do not make any difficulty you can have your little chair out upon the front doorstep and can see the chaise come to the door and see your father and me get in and drive away and you can wave your handkerchief to us for a good-bye Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or insubmission in Mary's continence, the mother would add," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 13430.0, "words": 612, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 11, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 11, "text": "Della and the Dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, the charge of young children without any absolute authority over them, or any means, or even any right to enforce their commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sister referred to in the preceding illustrations. To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della. Della had a young sister named Maria and a cousin whose name was Jane. Now, Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls. But being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it and would listen with the utmost attention. And there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves. To give an idea of these conversations, I will report one of them in full, \"I am very glad to see you. How nice you look. You have come. Andella.\" Andella was the name of Jane's doll. \"To make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it and try to pull it away from one another. But one waits like a lady until the other has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Andella, since you were here last.\" Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone, \"Has she been a good girl, Jane? And you don't look very well now. You must take good care of yourself. And, if you don't feel well, you must ask your mother to bring you in to me, and I will give you a dose of my medicine, my daughter to be a good girl.\" Andella was the name of her. \"Aquasacarina, a medium of reproof.\" Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. For instance, one day, the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza instead of putting them away in their places, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor. Delia came to the parlor, and with an air of great mystery, beckoned the children aside, and said to them, in a whisper, \"Leave Andella and Rosalie here, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a secret, something I would not have them know on any account.\" So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. \"There,\" said she, pointing to the playthings, \"see? All your playthings left out. Put them away quick, before Andella and Rosalie see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. They would think that they might do so too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble.\"" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79740_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 239.82, "ms": 15872.9, "words": 612, "errors": 4, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Della and the Dolls. This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, the charge of young children without any absolute authority over them or any means or even any right to enforce their commands as was the case in fact with the older brothers or sister referred to in the preceding illustrations To such persons, these indirect modes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers. Della Della had a young sister named Maria and a cousin whose name was Jane. Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendancy over the minds of the children by means of these dolls. Lectures to the dolls. But being addressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it and would listen with the utmost attention. and there is no doubt that the counsels and instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon their minds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves to give an idea of these conversations i will report one of them in full i am very glad to see you how nice you look you have come andella andella was the name of jane's doll to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You will have a very pleasant time, I am sure, because you never quarrel. I observe that when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it. and try to pull it away from one another but one waits like a lady until the other has done with it i expect you have been a very good girl andella since you were here last then turning to jane she asked in a somewhat altered tone has she been a good girl jane and you don't look very well now you must take good care of yourself and if you don't feel well you must ask your mother to bring you in to me and i will give you a dose of my medicine my aqua a medium of reproof delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose of instruction but sometimes for reproof in many ingenious ways for instance one day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other playthings and finally had gone into the house leaving all the things on the floor of the piazza instead of putting them away in their places as they ought to have done They were now playing with their dolls in the parlor. Delia came to the parlor and with an air of great mystery beckoned the children aside and said to them, in a whisper leave andela and rosalie here and don't say a word to them i want you to come with me there is a secret something i would not have them know on any account So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of the room and round by a circuitous route to the piazza. said she, pointing to the playthings. See, all your playthings left out. Put them away quick, before Andella and Rosalie see them. I would not have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in that way for any consideration. they would think that they might do so too, and that would make you a great deal of trouble." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 16509.7, "words": 435, "errors": 22, "deleted": 14, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 5, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "If, for example, he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, on a careful scrutiny, find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house with which he was familiar in early life. Nature of the effect produced by early impressions. That is comparatively nothing. You have made a lifelong change, if not in the very structure, at least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone. The nature and origin of general ideas. It is the same substantially in respect to all those abstract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man, and have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character. They are chiefly formed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood. Every story, therefore, which you relate to a child to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness takes its place, or rather, the impression which it makes takes its place as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. Vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see on reflection how vast an influence on the ideas and conceptions, as well as on the principles of action in mature years, must be exerted by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind. Vast importance of the pain. Vast importance of the pain. of the young, provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence to which a father subjects his son may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain. Even the remembrance of it may at length fade from the mind, but there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression which you make upon his perceptive powers must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may, in some cases, be forever indelible. Let us then take care that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall be sources of enjoyment for them in future years." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-79759_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 193.64, "ms": 11930.1, "words": 435, "errors": 3, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "if for example he reads an account of transactions represented as taking place in an english palace or castle he will usually on a careful scrutiny find that the basis of his conception of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms of some fine house with which he was familiar in early life nature of the effect produced by early impressions that is comparatively nothing you have made a life-long change if not in the very structure at least in the permanent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that can never, by any possibility, be undone. The nature and origin of general ideas. It is the same substantially. in respect to all those abstract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects which constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man. and have so great an influence in the formation of his habits of thought and of his character they are chiefly formed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood every story therefore which you relate to a child to exemplify the principles of justice or goodness takes its place or rather the impression which it makes, takes its place as one of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern his future life are formed. vast importance and influence of this mental furnishing. Without going to any such extreme as this, we can easily see on reflection how vast an influence on the ideas and and conceptions as well as on the principles of action in mature years must be exerted by the nature and character of the images which the period of infancy and childhood impress upon the mind among other bearings of this thought It gives great weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in the management and training of the young, provided that such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and angry violence, to which a father subjects his son, may soon pass away, but the memory of it does not pass away with the pain. Even the remembrance of it may at length fade from the mind. but there is still an effect which does not pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impression which you make upon his perceptive powers must have a very lasting influence, and even the impression itself may, in some cases, be forever indelible. Let us then take care that these impressions shall be, as far as possible, such as shall be sources of enjoyment for them in future years." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 11761.5, "words": 584, "errors": 13, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer, walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking, and he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dare me, he said, if I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peat load. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peat loads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road, he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jackknife. He gazed and gazed at the cap and could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jackknife to boot. Now, this knife was a splendid one. Though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked, and Anders knew that one is almost a man as soon as one has a jackknife. Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said goodbye to Lars with a nod. But Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap, which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman, and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball. Yes, why not, thought Anders. Seeing that I am so fine, I may as well go and visit the king. And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers with shining helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came, both the muskets were leveled at him. Where may you be going? Asked one of the soldiers. I am going to the court ball, answered Anders. Indeed you are not, said the other soldier, and put his foot forward. But just at this instant, the princess came tripping across the yard. She was dressed in white silk, with bows of ribbon. When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. Oh, she said, he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head, that that will do just as well as a uniform. And she took Anders' hand and walked with him up the broad marble stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through the magnificent halls where courtiers in silk and velvet stood bowing wherever he went. For, like as not, they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap. At the farther end of the largest hall, a table was set, with golden cups and golden plates in long rows. On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side. But you must not eat with your cap on your head, she said, and was going to take it off." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7021-85628_0000", "speaker": "7021", "seconds": 232.67, "ms": 14974.7, "words": 584, "errors": 15, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "But Anders cared nothing about that. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and went out for a walk, for he did not begrudge anybody seeing how fine he was. The first person he met was a farm laborer, walking alongside a load of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back came near breaking. And he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he saw it was nobody but Anders. Dare me, he said, if I did not think it was the gracious little count himself. And then he invited Anders to ride on the peat load. But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to ride on peat loads, and Anders trotted proudly by. At the turn of the road, he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jackknife. He gazed and gazed at the cap. and could not keep from fingering the blue tassel. Let's swap caps, he said, and I will give you my jackknife to boot. Now, this knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and the handle was a little cracked. And Anders knew that one is almost a man as soon as one has a jackknife. Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that. And then he said goodbye to Lars with a nod. But Lars only made faces at him, for he was very much put out, because he could not cheat Anders out of his cap, which his mother had made. She called him a little gentleman and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball. \"'Yes, why not?' thought Anders. \"'Seeing that I am so fine, I may as well go and visit the king.' And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers with shining helmets and with muskets over their shoulders. And when Anders came, both the muskets were leveled at him. \"'Where may you be going?' asked one of the soldiers. \"'I am going to the court ball.' answered anders indeed you are not said the other soldier and put his foot forward but just at this instant the princess came tripping across the yard she was dressed in white silk with bows of ribbon When she became aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them. Oh, she said, he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head that that will do just as well as a uniform. and she took ander's hand and walked with him up the broad marble stairs where soldiers were posted at every third step and through the magnificent halls where courtiers in silk and velvet stood bowing wherever he went for like as not they must have thought him a prince when they saw his fine cap at the farther end of the largest hall a table was set with golden cups and golden plates in long rows On huge silver platters were pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering decanters. The princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of roses, and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side. But you must not eat with your cap on your head, she said, and was going to take it off." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 12590.8, "words": 623, "errors": 9, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 4, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring, which was the result of so much imagination, and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court. As for the ballet itself, every person knew the part he had to take in it, and how to perform it. The king had resolved to make it surprise. Both replied that they only awaited his orders, and that everything was ready to begin, but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out. The king opened his window. The pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood, and the moon, white as snow, was already mounting the heavens. Not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters. The swans themselves, even, reposing with folded wings, like ships at anchor, seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air, the freshness of the water, and the silence of the beautiful evening. Ah, very well. Let him come in, then, said the king. And as if Colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself a courant with the conversation, he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers. Gentlemen, do your posts. Whereupon St. Aignan and Villeroy took their leave. Certainly, sire. But I must have money to do that. What? Sire, they were sent at the hour promised. Well? Well, sire, the colored lamps, the fireworks, the musicians, and the cooks have swallowed up four millions in eight days. Entirely? To the last penny. Every time your majesty directed the banks of the Grand Canal to be illuminated, as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins. What do you mean? What do you mean? inquired Luis. He has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give, if they are required, which is the case at the present moment. It is necessary, therefore, that he should comply. The king frowned. Colbert turned pale. And yet, he said, your majesty did not use this language some time ago, when the news about Belle Isle arrived, for instance. In my thoughts, monsieur, everything has changed. Does your majesty, then, no longer believe the disloyal attempt? My affairs concern myself alone, monsieur, and I have already told you I transact them without interference. Then I perceive, said Colbert, trembling with anger and fear, that I have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty. Not at all. You are, on the contrary, most agreeable to me. Yet, sire, said the minister, with a certain affected bluntness, so successful when it was a question of flattering Luis's self-esteem, what use is there in being agreeable to your majesty if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion, and, believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your majesty's plan, then, in this affair, is, you will take them from my private treasure. The king took a pen and signed an order immediately, then handed it to Colbert. The order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of Fontainebleau. It was already known, too, that the king was trying on his costume, and that the ballet would be danced in the evening. The news circulated with the rapidity of lightning. During its progress, it kindled every variety of coquetry, desire, and wild ambition." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75946_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 227.36, "ms": 13929.5, "words": 623, "errors": 5, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "At the conclusion of the banquet, which was served at five o'clock, the king entered his cabinet, where his tailors were awaiting him for the purpose of trying on the celebrated costume representing spring. which was the result of so much imagination and had cost so many efforts of thought to the designers and ornament workers of the court as for the ballet itself every person knew the part he had to take in it and how to perform it the king had resolved to make it surprise both replied that they only awaited his orders and that everything was ready to begin but that it was necessary to be sure of fine weather and a favorable night before these orders could be carried out the king opened his window the pale gold hues of the evening were visible on the horizon through the vistas of the wood and the moon white as snow was already mounting the heavens not a ripple could be noticed on the surface of the green waters the swans themselves even reposing with folded wings like ships at anchor seemed inspirations of the warmth of the air the freshness of the water and the silence of the beautiful evening ah very well let him come in then said the king and as if colbert had been listening at the door for the purpose of keeping himself au courant with the conversation he entered as soon as the king had pronounced his name to the two courtiers gentlemen do your posts whereupon St. Aignan and Villaroy took their leave. Certainly, sire. But I must have money to do that. What? Sire, they were sent at the hour promised. Well? well sire the colored lamps the fireworks the musicians and the cooks have swallowed up four millions in eight days entirely to the last penny every time your majesty directed the banks of the grand canal to be illuminated as much oil was consumed as there was water in the basins what do you mean inquired louise he has given them with too much grace not to have others still to give if they are required which is the case at the present moment it is necessary therefore that he should comply the king frowned colbert turned pale and yet he said your majesty did not use this language some time ago when the news about belle isle arrived for instance in my thoughts monsieur everything has changed does your majesty then no longer believe the disloyal attempt my affairs concern myself alone monsieur and i have already told you i transact them without interference then i perceive said colbert trembling with anger and fear that i have had the misfortune to fall into disgrace with your majesty not at all you are on the contrary most agreeable to me yet sire said the minister with a certain affected bluntness so successful when it was a question of flattering louise's self-esteem What use is there in being agreeable to your majesty if one can no longer be of any use? I reserve your services for a better occasion, and believe me, they will only be the better appreciated. Your majesty's plan, then, in this affair is, you will take them from my private treasure. the king took a pen and signed an order immediately then handed it to colbert the order issued by the king was known throughout the whole of fontainebleau it was already known too that the king was trying on his costume and that the ballet would be danced in the evening the news circulated with the rapidity of lightning during its progress it kindled every variety of coquetry desire and wild ambition" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 11734.6, "words": 578, "errors": 10, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be. He then turned towards Madame for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn. Young persons love with more vivacity, perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion, than others more advanced in years. But all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor. So that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love, the latter feeling, according to the laws of Equipoise, never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty years of age. Louise thought of Madame, but only after he had studiously thought of himself, and Madame carefully thought of herself without bestowing a single thought upon the king. Everyone could observe his agitation and prostration, a prostration which was, indeed, the more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him, with his arms hanging listlessly by his side, his head bewildered, and his eyes, with all their bright intelligence, bedimmed. All these sufferings, successes, and remarks were blended, confounded, and lost in the uproar of applause. Upon this, Madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the Comte, observing, the Comte's patience almost forsook him, as he continued, Your Royal Highness danced just now most charmingly. Do you think so? She replied with indifference. Yes, the character which Your Royal Highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own. Oh, there can be no doubt of it. Explain yourself. You represented a divinity, beautiful, disdainful, and constant. You mean Pomona, Comte? I allude to the goddess. Nay, Madame, I am only one of those who are never noticed, or who are soon forgotten, if they ever happen to be noticed. With this remark, accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fiber of one's being, his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast, his head on fire, and his gaze wandering, he bowed breathlessly, and withdrew behind the thicket. The only reply Madame Condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders, and, as her ladies of honor had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted, she recalled them by a look. The ladies were Mademoiselle de Tonnet-Charlotte and Mademoiselle de Montelay. Did you hear what the Comte de Guiche said? the princess inquired. No. And then, in a louder voice, fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable, she said, in the first place, he danced badly, and afterwards his remarks were very silly. She then rose, humming the air to which she was presently going to dance. The arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally. Then, at the risk of interrupting the progress of the Fete by his annoyance, he fled from the scene, tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces, and scattering, as he went along, the branches of vines, mulberry, and almond trees with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity. A quarter of an hour afterwards, he returned to the theatre. But it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back. Or perhaps, for love is thus strangely constituted, he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart. Madame was finishing her figure." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7127-75947_0000", "speaker": "7127", "seconds": 235.73, "ms": 14623.3, "words": 578, "errors": 9, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the king remained for a moment to enjoy a triumph as complete as it could possibly be he then turned towards madame for the purpose of admiring her also a little in her turn young persons love with more vivacity perhaps with greater ardor and deeper passion than others more advanced in years but all the other feelings are at the same time developed in proportion to their youth and vigor so that vanity being with them almost always the equivalent of love the latter feeling according to the laws of equipaz never attains that degree of perfection which it acquires in men and women from thirty to five and thirty years of age louis thought of madame but only after he had studiously thought of himself and madame carefully thought of herself without bestowing a single thought upon the king everyone could observe his agitation and prostration a prostration which was indeed the more remarkable since people were not accustomed to see him with his arms hanging listlessly by his side his head bewildered and his eyes with all their bright intelligence bedimmed all these sufferings successes and remarks were blended confounded and lost in the uproar of applause upon this madame deigned to turn her eyes languishingly towards the comte observing the comte's patience almost forsook him as he continued your royal highness danced just now most charmingly do you think so she replied with indifference yes the character which your royal highness assumed is in perfect harmony with your own oh there can be no doubt of it explain yourself you represented a divinity beautiful disdainful inconstant you mean pomona i allude to the goddess nay madame i am only one of those who are never noticed or who are soon forgotten if they ever happen to be noticed with this remark accompanied by one of those deep sighs which affect the remotest fiber of one's being his heart burdened with sorrow and throbbing fast his head on fire and his gaze wandering he bowed breathlessly and withdrew behind the thicket the only reply madame condescended to make was by slightly raising her shoulders and as her ladies of honour had discreetly retired while the conversation lasted she recalled them by a look the ladies were mademoiselle de tonnay-chalante and mademoiselle de montellay did you hear what the comte de guiche said the princess inquired no and then in a louder voice fearful lest her unhappy victim might lose a syllable she said in the first place he danced badly and afterwards his remarks were very silly she then rose humming the air to which she was presently going to dance the arrow pierced his heart and wounded him mortally then at the risk of interrupting the progress of the fete by his annoyance he fled from the scene tearing his beautiful costume of autumn in pieces and scattering as he went along the branches of vines mulberry and almond trees with all the other artificial attributes of his assumed divinity a quarter of an hour afterwards he returned to the theatre but it will be readily believed that it was only a powerful effort of reason over his great excitement that enabled him to go back or perhaps for love is thus strangely constituted he found it impossible even to remain much longer separated from the presence of one who had broken his heart Madame was finishing her figure." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 12168.3, "words": 685, "errors": 20, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "It directly overhung a transparent amber-brown shoot of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of North Fork Rapids. The strange-mannered duck had no proper talons wherewith to grasp his perch, but his strong clawed webs held him steadily nonetheless as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent. Here, where the North Fork stream fell into the Odenunsis, was a resort exactly to his liking. And most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down either the Fork or the Parent River, chose to pass through that sleuth of swift but unbroken flow immediately beneath the overhanging branch on which he perched. For all the splendor of his plumage, the Mergancer was not conspicuous where he sat. All about him was a tumult of bright and broken color, scattered in broad splashes. The rapids were foam-white or golden-ruddy or deep, shining green-brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sewn thickly with wet black rocks, here and there glinting with purple. The Mergancer had a crested head of iridescent green-black, a broad collar of lustrous white, black back, black and white wings, white belly, sides finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich chestnut red streaked with black. His feet were red, his long, narrow beak, with its saw-toothed edges and sharp hooked tip was bright red. In every line and hue, he was unmistakably unaristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite, but for his powers. His beak, with its keen-toothed edges, was a formidable weapon, by means of which he could doubtless have captured, disabled, and dragged ashore even a fish of a pound or so in weight. But here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles. He had no rending claws. But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface. A watcher directly overhead, escaping the baffling reflections, might have seen him swimming, head outstretched, mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes, fairly outspeeding the fish in their own element. Near the limit of the clear water, he overtook and seized the quarry which he had marked, a trout not far from seven inches in length. The saw-toothed edges of his beak gripped it securely, and he rose with it to the surface, just where the shoot was breaking into a smother of trampled foam. With a furious flapping of wings, he lifted himself almost clear of the flood, and beat along the tossed surface, dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight. Once fairly a wing, however, he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch. Here, he proceeded to swallow his prize head first. It was a long, difficult choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted. But a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and, after many an undignified paroxysm, he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that, even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green-winged teal was beating his way above the treetops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart. A mighty flyer, his short, muscular wings drove him through the air at a speed not much less than ninety or a hundred miles an hour. But behind him, overtaking him inexorably, came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duck-hawk." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-88083_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 239.53, "ms": 14667.2, "words": 685, "errors": 22, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 3, "text": "it directly overhung a transparent amber-brown shoot of unbroken water in the midst of the loud turmoil of north fork rapids the strange-mannered duck had no proper talons wherewith to grasp his perch but his strong clawed webs held him steadily none the less as he peered downward into the clear rush of the torrent Here, where the North Fork stream fell into the Odenunsis, was a resort exactly to his liking. And most of the fish, trout, salmon, grills, or par, which journeyed up and down either the Fork or the Parent River, chose to pass through that sleuth of swift but unbroken flow immediately beneath the overhanging branch of the Odenunsis. on which he perched. For all the splendor of his plumage, the Mergancer was not conspicuous where he sat. All about him was a tumult of bright and broken color, scattered in broad splashes. The rapids were foam-white, or golden ruddy, or deep, shining green-brown under the sharp and patchy sunlight, and they were sewn thickly with wet black rocks, here and there glinting with purple. The merganser had a crested head of iridescent green-black, a broad collar of lustrous white, black back, black and white wings, white belly, sides finely penciled in black and white, and a breast of rich chestnut red streaked with black— His feet were red, his long, narrow beak, with its saw-toothed edges and sharp hooked tip, was bright red. In every line and hue, he was unmistakably an aristocrat among ducks, and an arrogant one at that. Most of them were much too big, not for his appetite, but for his powers. His beak, with its keen-toothed edges, was a formidable weapon, by means of which he could doubtless have captured, disabled, and dragged ashore even a fish of a pound or so in weight. but here he was at a terrible disadvantage as compared with the owls, hawks, and eagles. He had no rending claws. But suddenly, straight and swift as a diving cormorant, he shot down into the torrent and disappeared beneath the surface— a watcher directly overhead escaping the baffling reflections might have seen him swimming head outstretched mastering the tremendous rush of the stream with mighty strokes fairly outspeeding the fish in their own element near the limit of the clear water he overtook and seized the quarry which he had marked a trout not far from seven inches in length the saw toothed edges of his beak gripped it securely and he rose with it to the surface just where the shoot was breaking into a smother of trampled foam with a furious flapping of wings he lifted himself almost clear of the flood and beat along the tossed surface dragging tail and feet for perhaps a dozen yards before he could get into full flight once fairly a wing however he wheeled and made back hurriedly for his perch Here he proceeded to swallow his prize headfirst. It was a long, difficult choking process, for the fish was one of the stoutest he had ever attempted. But a little choking was of small consequence in view of his heroic appetite, and after many an undignified paroxysm, he accomplished the task. It might have seemed that a trout of this size was a fairly substantial meal, but such was his keenness that even while the wide flukes of his engorged victim were still sticking out at the corners of his beak, his fierce red eyes were once more peering downward into the torrent in search of fresh prey. Just about this time, in the clear blue overhead, a green-winged teal was beating his way above the treetops, making for the stream with the fear of death at his heart. A mighty flyer, his short, muscular wings drove him through the air at a speed not much less than ninety or a hundred miles an hour, but behind him was a man. overtaking him inexorably came the shape that stood for doom itself in the eyes of all his tribe, the dreadful blue falcon or duck hawk." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 13407.2, "words": 754, "errors": 3, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "The successful playwright is indeed a man to be envied. Leaving aside for the moment the question of super tax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly spelt on buses which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and West Norwood, and his name spelt incorrectly beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect, who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play, actor-managers nod to him, editors allow him to contribute, without charge, to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and if he is not careful, somebody will say so. But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments. Now he says he is writing a play, and we look around the spacious lawns and terraces and marvel at the run his last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs Your play must be not merely a good play, but a successful one. How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say. How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you. But suppose you said, I'm fond of writing. My people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've got a little idea for a play about a man and a woman and another woman, and... But perhaps I better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting and I can do the dialogue all right. Suppose you spoke to me like this. Then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, You have come to the right shop. Lend me your ear for ten minutes, And you shall learn just what stagecraft is. And I should begin with a short homily on... Soliloquy If you ever read your Shakespeare, And no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, He may always pick up something in them which may be useful for his next play. If you ever read your Shakespeare, It is possible that you have come across this passage. Enter Hamlet. Ham. To be or not to be. And so on in the same vein for some thirty lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy, Being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now, the object of this soliloquy is plain. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, Distending the nostrils, And exploring the lower molars with the tongue, By which it is possible to denote, respectively, Surprise, Defiance, And doubt. Indeed, Irresolution being the keynote of Hamlet's soliloquy, A clever player could to some extent indicate the whole thirty lines by a silent working of the jaw. But at the same time, It would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns, To take only one line would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being, We moderns, however, See the absurdity of it. If it be granted, First, That the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, And secondly, That soliloquy, Or the habit of thinking aloud, Is in opposition to modern stage technique, How shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, There are more ways than one, And now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, In this play we have been talking about, An easy way of avoiding Hamlet's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak first. Ham, I am wondering whether to be or not to be, Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer, And so on, Till you get to the end when Ophelia might say, Ah, yes, Or something non-committal of that sort. This would be an easy way of doing it, But it would not be the best way, For the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear That you are conveying Hamlet's thoughts to the audience In rather a clever manner. Sure." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7176-92135_0000", "speaker": "7176", "seconds": 238.62, "ms": 16393.1, "words": 754, "errors": 12, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 4, "text": "The successful playwright is indeed a man to be envied. Leaving aside for the moment the question of super tax, the prizes which fall to his lot are worth something of an effort. He sees his name correctly spelt on \"Busses which go to such different spots as Hammersmith and West Norwood\" and his name spelt incorrectly beneath the photograph of somebody else in the illustrated butler. He is a welcome figure at the garden parties of the elect who are always ready to encourage him by accepting free seats for his play. Actor managers nod to him, editors allow him to contribute without charge to a symposium on the price of golf balls. In short, he becomes a prominent figure in London society, and if he is not careful, somebody will say so. But even the unsuccessful dramatist has his moments. Now he says he is writing a play, and we look around the spacious lawns and terraces and marvel at the run his last one must have had. However, I assume that you who read this are actually in need of the dibs. Your play must be not merely a good play, but a successful one. How shall this success be achieved? Frankly, I cannot always say. How shall I do it? Well, I couldn't help you. But suppose you said, I'm fond of writing. My people always say my letters home are good enough for punch. I've got a little idea for a play about a man and a woman and another woman, and, but perhaps I better keep the plot a secret for the moment. Anyhow, it's jolly exciting and I can do the dialogue alright. Suppose you spoke to me like this, then I could do something for you. My dear sir, I should reply, or madam, you have come to the right shop. Lend me your ear for ten minutes and you shall learn just what stagecraft is. And I should begin with a short homily on... Soliloquy. If you ever read your Shakespeare, and no dramatist should despise the works of another dramatist, he may always pick up something in them which may be useful for his next play. If you ever read your Shakespeare, it is possible that you have come across his passage. Enter Hamlet, Ham, to be or not to be, and so on in the same vein for some thirty lines. These few remarks are called a soliloquy, being addressed rather to the world in general than to any particular person on the stage. Now, the object of this soliloquy is plain, which is a soliloquy. Of course, a really good actor can often give a clue to the feelings of a character simply by facial expression. There are ways of shifting the eyebrows, distending the nostrils, and exploring the lower molars with the tongue, by which it is possible to denote, respectively, surprise, defiance and doubt. Indeed, irresolution being the keynote of Hanlon's soliloquy, a clever player could to some extent indicate the whole thirty lines by a silent working of the jaw. But at the same time, it would be idle to deny that he would miss the finer shades of the dramatist's meaning. The insolence of office and the spurns, to take only one line, would tax the most elastic face. So the soliloquy came into being. We moderns, however, see the absurdity of it, if it be granted, first, that the thoughts of a certain character should be known to the audience, and secondly, that soliloquy, or the habit of thinking aloud, is in opposition to modern stage technique, how shall a soliloquy be avoided without damage to the play? Well, there are more ways than one. And now we come to what is meant by stagecraft. Thus, in this play we have been talking about, an easy way of avoiding Ham's soliloquy would be for Ophelia to speak first. Ham, I am wondering whether to be or not to be, whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer... And so on, till you get to the end when Ophelia might say, Ah, yes, or something non-committal of that sort. This would be an easy way of doing it, but it would not be the best way, for the reason that it is too easy to call attention to itself. What you want is to make it clear that you are conveying Hamlet's thoughts to the audience in rather a clever manner." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 13168.0, "words": 543, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the bogus legislature numbered thirty-six members this was at the march election eighteen fifty five that summer's immigration however being mainly from the free states greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties for general service therefore requiring no special effort the numerical strength of the factions was about equal while on extraordinary occasions the two thousand border ruffian reserve lying a little farther back from the state line could at any time easily turn the scale the free state men had only their convictions their intelligence their courage and the moral support of the north the conspiracy had its secret combination the territorial officials the legislature the bogus laws the courts the militia officers the president and the army this was a formable array of advantages slavery was playing with loaded dice with such a radical opposition of sentiment both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground the bogus laws having been enacted and the free state men having at the big springs convention resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them to a bloody issue the conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority opportunely for them about this time governor shannon appointed to succeed reader arrived in the territory coming by way of the missouri river towns he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences and perhaps having his inclinations already moulded by his washington instructions his early impressions were decidedly adverse to the free state cause his reception speech at westport in which he maintained the legality of the legislature and his determination to enforce their laws delighted his pro-slavery auditors all the territorial dignitaries were present governor shannon presided john calhoun the surveyor general made the principal speech a denunciation of the abolitionists supporting the topeka movement chief justice lecomte dignified the occasion with approving remarks all dissent all non-compliance all hesitation all mere silence even were in their stronghold towns like leavenworth branded as abolitionism declared to be hostility to the public welfare and punished with proscription personal violence expulsion and frequently death of the lynchings the mobs and the murders it would be impossible except in a very extended work to note the frequent and atrocious details the present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the civil war in kansas which happily are not sanguinary if however the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described they would show a startling aggregate of barbarity and a loss of life for opinion's sake some of these revolting crimes though comparatively few in number were committed generally in the spirit of wallace retaliation by free state men several hundred free state men promptly responded to the summons the free state hotel served as barracks it was in fact the best weapon of its day the free state volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the east and their range rapidity and effectiveness had been not only duly set forth but highly exaggerated by many marvellous stories throughout the territory and along the border the leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "7729-102255_0000", "speaker": "7729", "seconds": 232.53, "ms": 14900.9, "words": 543, "errors": 13, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the bogus legislature numbered thirty-six members this was at the march election eighteen fifty five that summer's immigration however being mainly from the free states greatly changed the relative strengths of the two parties For general service, therefore, requiring no special effort, the numerical strength of the factions was about equal, while on extraordinary occasions the 2000 Border Ruffian Reserve lying a little farther back from the state line could at any time easily turn the scale the free state men had only their convictions their intelligence their courage and the moral support of the north the conspiracy had its secret combination the territorial officials the legislature the bogus laws the courts the militia officers the president and the army this was a formidable array of advantages slavery was playing with loaded dice with such a radical opposition of sentiment both factions were on the alert to seize every available vantage ground the bogus laws having been enacted and the free state men having at the big springs convention resolved on the failure of peaceable remedies to resist them to a bloody issue the conspiracy was not slow to cover itself and its projects with the sacred mantle of authority opportunely for them about this time governor shannon appointed to succeed reader arrived in the territory coming by way of the missouri river towns he fell first among border ruffian companionship and influences and perhaps having his inclinations already molded by his washington instructions his early impressions were decidedly adverse to the free state cause his reception speech at westport in which he maintained the legality of the legislature and his determination to enforce their laws delighted his proslavery auditors all the territorial dignitaries were present governor shannon presided john calhoun the surveyor-general made the principal speech a denunciation of the abolitionists supporting the topeka movement chief justice le comte dignified the occasion with approving remarks all dissent all non-compliance all hesitation all mere silence even were in their stronghold towns like leavenworth branded as abolitionism declared to be hostility to the public welfare and punished with proscription personal violence expulsion and frequently death of the lynchings the mobs and the murders it would be impossible except in a very extended work to note the frequent and atrocious details The present chapters can only touch upon the more salient movements of the civil war in Kansas, which, happily, are not sanguinary. If, however, the individual and more isolated cases of bloodshed could be described, they would show a startling aggregate of barbarity and a loss of life for opinion's sake some of these revolting crimes though comparatively few in number were committed generally in the spirit of lawless retaliation by free-state men several hundred free-state men promptly responded to the summons the free-state hotel served as barracks it was in fact the best weapon of its day the free-state volunteers had some months before obtained a partial supply of them from the east and their range rapidity and effectiveness had been not only duly set forth but highly exaggerated by many marvellous stories throughout the territory and along the border the leaders of the conspiracy became distrustful of their power to crush the town" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 12175.4, "words": 465, "errors": 29, "deleted": 18, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 17, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "In the second insurrection, a great military command was entrusted to him by the Covenanters, and he was the first that passed the Tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of England. He found means, however, soon after to convey a letter to the king, and by the infidelity of some about that prince, Hamilton as was suspected, a copy of this letter was sent to Levin, the Scottish general. Being accused of treachery and a correspondence with the enemy, Montrose openly avowed the letter, and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign an enemy, and by this bold and magnanimous behaviour he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution. As he was now fully known to be of the royal party, he no longer concealed his principles, and he endeavoured to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master's service. Though thrown into prison for this enterprise, and detained some time, he was not discouraged, but still continued by his countenance and protection to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists. Among other persons of distinction who united themselves to him was Lord Napier of Murcheston, son of the famous inventor of the logarithms, the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced. Charles was so far from harbouring suspicion against him, that the very first time Hamilton came to court, he received him into his bedchamber, and passed alone the night with him. But such was the duke's unhappy fate or conduct, that he escaped not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign, and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service, his integrity and sincerity have not been thought by historians entirely free from blemish. While the former foretold that the Scottish Covenanters were secretly forming a union with the English Parliament, and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking, the latter still insisted that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not perhaps inclined. Unhappily for the royal cause, Hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of Montrose, and the Covenanters were allowed without interruption to proceed in all their hostile measures. Montrose then hastened to Oxford, where his invectives against Hamilton's treachery, concurring with the general prepossession, and supported by the unfortunate event of his councils, were entered with universal probation. His brother, Lanniric, who was also put under confinement, found means to make his escape, and to fly into Scotland. And..." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274381_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 228.69, "ms": 13876.8, "words": 465, "errors": 7, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "in the second insurrection a great military command was entrusted to him by the covenanters and he was the first that passed the tweed at the head of their troops in the invasion of england he found means however soon after to convey a letter to the king and by the infidelity of some about that prince hamilton as was suspected a copy of this letter was sent to levin the scottish general Being accused of treachery and a correspondence with the enemy, Montrose openly avowed the letter, and asked the generals if they dared to call their sovereign an enemy. and by this bold and magnanimous behaviour he escaped the danger of an immediate prosecution. As he was now fully known to be of the royal party he no longer concealed his principles and he endeavoured to draw those who had entertained like sentiments into a bond of association for his master's service though thrown into prison for this enterprise and detained some time he was not discouraged but still continued by his countenance and protection to infuse spirit into the distressed royalists among other persons of distinction who united themselves to him was lord napier of murcheston son of the famous inventor of the logarithms the person to whom the title of a great man is more justly due than to any other whom his country ever produced being accused by lord ray not without some appearance of probability of a conspiracy against the king charles was so far from harboring suspicion against him that the very first time hamilton came to court He received him into his bed-chamber, and passed alone the night with him. But such was the duke's unhappy fate or conduct, that he escaped not the imputation of treachery to his friend and sovereign and though he at last sacrificed his life in the king's service his integrity and sincerity have not been thought by historians entirely free from blemish while the former foretold that the scottish covenanters were secretly forming a union with the english parliament and inculcated the necessity of preventing them by some vigorous undertaking the latter still insisted that every such attempt would precipitate them into measures to which otherwise they were not perhaps inclined unhappily for the royal cause hamilton's representations met with more credit from the king and queen than those of montrose and the covenanters were allowed without interruption to proceed in all their hostile measures montrose then hastened to oxford where his invectives against hamilton's treachery concurring with the general prepossession and supported by the unfortunate event of his counsels were entered with universal probation his brother laneric who was also put under confinement found means to make his escape and to fly into scotland" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 12206.6, "words": 515, "errors": 10, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "He rode before a portmanteau and called himself Ashburnham's servant. He passed through Henley, St Albans, and came so near to London as Harrow on the Hill. He once entertained thoughts of entering into that city and of throwing himself on the mercy of the Parliament. But at last, after passing through many crossroads, he arrived at the Scottish camp before Newark. The Parliament, hearing of his escape from Oxford, issued rigorous orders and threatened with instant death whoever should harbour or conceal him. The Scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise on the appearance of the King, and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity, they instantly set a guard upon him under colour of protection, and made him in reality a prisoner. They informed the English Parliament of this unexpected incident, and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the King. They applied to him for orders to Belassus, governor of Newark, to surrender that town, now reduced to extremity, and the orders were instantly obeyed. It was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news, and on every great event the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion. Have we eaten at all of the King's cost? Or hath he given us any gift? And the men of Israel answered the men of Judah, and said, We have ten parts in the King, and we have also more right in David than ye. Why then did ye despise us, that our advice should not be first had in bringing back our King? And the words of the men of Judah were fiercer than the words of the men of Israel. Another preacher, after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment, ordered this psalm to be sung. Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself, thy wicked deeds to praise? The King stood up, and called for that psalm, which begins with these words. Have mercy, Lord, on me, I pray, for men would me devour. The good-natured audience, in pity to fallen majesty, showed for once greater deference to the King than to the minister, and sung the psalm which the former had called for. Charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation. The terms given to most of them were honourable, and Fairfax, as far as it lay in his power, was very exact in observing them. Far from allowing violence, he would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity, so cruel a civil war was ended, in appearance, very calmly between the parties. Ormond, having received like orders, delivered Dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers. Montrose also, after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune, threw down his arms, and retired out of the kingdom. The Marquis of Worcester, a man past 84, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament," }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8224-274384_0000", "speaker": "8224", "seconds": 235.98, "ms": 14708.7, "words": 515, "errors": 9, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "he rode before a portmanteau and called himself ashburnham's servant he passed through henley st albans and came so near to london as harrow on the hill he once entertained thoughts of entering into that city and of throwing himself on the mercy of the parliament but at last after passing through many cross-roads he arrived at the scottish camp before newark the parliament hearing of his escape from oxford issued rigorous orders and threatened with instant death whoever should harbour or conceal him the scottish generals and commissioners affected great surprise on the appearance of the king and though they paid him all the exterior respect due to his dignity they instantly set a guard upon him under colour of protection and made him in reality a prisoner. They informed the English Parliament of this unexpected incident and assured them that they had entered into no private treaty with the king. they applied to him for orders to belassus governor of newark to surrender that town now reduced to extremity and the orders were instantly obeyed it was the mode of that age to make the pulpit this scene of news and on every great event the whole scripture was ransacked by the clergy for passages applicable to the present occasion have we eaten at all of the king's cost or hath he given us any gift and the men of israel answered the men of judah and said we have ten parts in the king and we have also more right in david than ye why then did ye despise us that our advice should not be first had in bringing back our king and the words of the men of judah were fiercer than the words of the men of israel another preacher after reproaching him to his face with his misgovernment ordered this psalm to be sung why dost thou tyrant boast thyself thy wicked deeds to praise The king stood up and called for that psalm which begins with these words, Have mercy, Lord, on me, I pray, for men would me devour. the good-natured audience in pity to fallen majesty showed for once greater deference to the king than to the minister and sung the psalm which the former had called for charles had very little reason to be pleased with his situation the terms given to most of them were honourable and fairfax as far as it lay in his power was very exact in observing them far from allowing violence he would not even permit insults or triumph over the unfortunate royalists, and by his generous humanity so cruel a civil war was ended, in appearance very calmly between the parties. Ormond said, having received like orders delivered dublin and other forts into the hands of the parliamentary officers montrose also after having experienced still more variety of good and bad fortune threw down his arms and retired out of the kingdom The Marquis of Worcester, a man past 84, was the last in England that submitted to the authority of the Parliament." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 11645.4, "words": 577, "errors": 6, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "Memory, which we are to consider today, introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms. The analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the thirteenth lecture and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise. I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be affected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorists employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures. In the present lecture, I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory, in some form, is presupposed in almost all other knowledge. Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge. It might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i.e., with that integral experience of things and the environment, out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis. What is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates, images and expectations of their usual correlates, all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation. The purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult, though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the non-sensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems, which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture, I alluded to Hume's principle that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions which are correspondent to them and which they exactly represent. Whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions, everyone would agree that it has a broad measure of truth, though the word exactly might seem an overstatement, and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions. What sort of evidence is there? And what sort of evidence is logically possible? The difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory, while, on the other hand, memory of past sensations seems only possible by means of present images. How then are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute if we say that images differ from their prototypes as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred, or even that the past should have existed at all. There is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was with a population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now or will happen in the future can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I am not suggesting that the non-existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8230-279154_0000", "speaker": "8230", "seconds": 237.54, "ms": 14857.0, "words": 577, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "memory which we are to consider today introduces us to knowledge in one of its forms the analysis of knowledge will occupy us until the end of the thirteenth lecture and is the most difficult part of our whole enterprise I do not myself believe that the analysis of knowledge can be affected entirely by means of purely external observation, such as behaviorists employ. I shall discuss this question in later lectures. In the present lecture, I shall attempt the analysis of memory knowledge, both as an introduction to the problem of knowledge in general, and because memory, in some form, is presupposed in almost all other knowledge. Sensation, we decided, is not a form of knowledge. It might, however, have been expected that we should begin our discussion of knowledge with perception, i.e., with that integral experience of things and the environment. out of which sensation is extracted by psychological analysis. What is called perception differs from sensation by the fact that the sensational ingredients bring up habitual associates. images and expectations of their usual correlates, all of which are subjectively indistinguishable from the sensation. The purely psychological problems which it raises are not very difficult, though they have sometimes been rendered artificially obscure by unwillingness to admit the fallibility of the non-sensational elements of perception. On the other hand, memory raises many difficult and very important problems, which it is necessary to consider at the first possible moment. One reason for treating memory at this early stage is that it seems to be involved in the fact that images are recognized as copies of past sensible experience. In the preceding lecture, I alluded to Hume's principle that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are derived from simple impressions which are correspondent to them and which they exactly represent. whether or not this principle is liable to exceptions everyone would agree that it has a broad measure of truth though the word exactly might seem an overstatement and it might seem more correct to say that ideas approximately represent impressions what sort of evidence is there And what sort of evidence is logically possible? The difficulty of this question arises through the fact that the sensation which an image is supposed to copy is in the past when the image exists, and can therefore only be known by memory, while On the other hand, memory of past sensations seems only possible by means of present images. How then are we to find any way of comparing the present image and the past sensation? The problem is just as acute if we say that images differ from their prototypes as if we say that they resemble them. It is the very possibility of comparison that is hard to understand. It is not logically necessary to the existence of a memory belief that the event remembered should have occurred. or even that the past should have existed at all. There is no logical impossibility in the hypothesis that the world sprang into being five minutes ago, exactly as it then was with a population that remembered a wholly unreal past. There is no logically necessary connection between events at different times. Therefore, nothing that is happening now or will happen in the future can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago. I'm not suggesting that the non-existence of the past should be entertained as a serious hypothesis." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 11837.6, "words": 681, "errors": 24, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 4, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the new governor so said i to myself because of jack and his love all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed it was for that that i wept i wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world i remained there alone for many hours but i must acknowledge that before i left the chambers i had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light had eva crestwell not been good-looking had jack been still at college had sir kennington oval remained in england had mr bunnett and the barkeeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill should i have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend that was a question which i ought to ask myself had crestwell departed and had the system then been stopped should i not have appeared a murderer even to myself but though i have been strong enough to originate the idea i have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the opinions of those around me when i should have exercised against those dear to me the mandates of the new law if i could in the spirit have leaped over a space of thirty years and been myself deposited in due order i could see that my memory would have been embalm with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens such had been my ambition such had been my hope had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient rome would the romans have accepted it or have stoned wheatstone on arriving at home at my own residence i found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company we did not usually use the room but on entering the house i heard the clatter of conversation and went in he rose to meet me and i saw that he was a handsome tall man about 40 with a determined face and a winning smile mr president said he i am in command of her majesty's gunboat the john bright and i have come to pay my respects to the ladies i am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you i look around the room and there with other of our fair citizens i saw eva as i spoke i made him a gracious bow and i think i showed him by my mode of address that i did not bear any grudge as to my individual self i have come to your shores mr president with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world things were progressing captain battle axe pretty well before this morning we have our little struggles here as elsewhere and all things cannot be done by rosewater we are quite satisfied now captain battle axe said my wife quite satisfied said eva i am sure we are all delighted to hear the ladies speak in so pleasant a manner said first lieutenant cross trees an officer with whom i have since become particularly intimate then there was a little pause in the conversation and i felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which i had this morning been subjected and yet that something must be playful in its nature i must by no means show in such company as was now present the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind you will perceive captain battle axe that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony which was to have been accomplished this morning the ladies in compliance with that softness of heart which is their characteristic are on one side and the men by whom the world has to be managed are on the other no doubt in process of time the ladies will follow their masters said mrs neverbend this was a pretty little speech enough and received the eager compliments of the officers of the john bright" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8455-210777_0000", "speaker": "8455", "seconds": 238.59, "ms": 16812.3, "words": 681, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the new governor so said i to myself because of jack and his love all the aspirations of my life are to be crushed it was for that that i wept i wept to think that a spirit of honesty should as yet have prevailed so little in the world i remained there alone for many hours but i must acknowledge that before i left the chambers i had gradually brought myself to look at the matter in another light had eva cressweller not been good-looking had jack been still at college had sir kennington oval remained in england had mr bunnett and the barkeeper not succeeded in stopping my carriage on the hill should i have succeeded in arranging for the final departure of my old friend that was a question which i ought to ask myself had crestweller departed and had the system then been stopped should i not have appeared a murderer even to myself but though i have been strong enough to originate the idea i have not been strong enough to bear the terrible harshness of the opinions of those around me when i should have exercised against those dear to me the mandates of the new law if i could in the spirit have leaped over a space of thirty years and been myself deposited in due order i could see that my memory would have been embalmed with those who had done great things for their fellow citizens such had been my ambition such had been my hope had the telegraph been invented in the days of ancient rome would the romans have accepted it or have stoned wheatstone on arriving at home at my own residence i found that our salon was filled with a brilliant company we did not usually use the room but on entering the house i heard the clatter of conversation and went in he rose to meet me and i saw that he was a handsome tall man about forty with a determined face and a winning smile mr president said he i am in command of her majesty's gun-bolt the john bright and i have come to pay my respects to the ladies i am sure the ladies have great pleasure in seeing you I looked round the room, and there, with other of our fair citizens, I saw Eva. As I spoke, I made him a gracious bow, and I think I showed him by my mode of address that I did not bear any grudge as to my individual self. \"I have come to your shores, Mr. President, with the purpose of seeing how things are progressing in this distant quarter of the world.\" Things were progressing, Captain Battleaxe, pretty well before this morning. we have our little struggles here as elsewhere and all things cannot be done by rosewater we are quite satisfied now captain battleaxe said my wife quite satisfied said eva i am sure we are all delighted to hear the lady speak in so pleasant a manner said first lieutenant crosstrees an officer with whom i have since become particularly intimate Then there was a little pause in the conversation, and I felt myself bound to say something as to the violent interruption to which I had this morning been subjected. and yet that something must be playful in its nature i must by no means show in such company as was now present the strong feeling which pervaded my own mind you will perceive captain battleax that there is a little difference of opinion between us all here as to the ceremony which was to have been accomplished this morning the ladies in compliance with that softness of heart which is their characteristic are on one side and the men by whom the world has to be managed are on the other no doubt in process of time the ladies will follow their masters said mrs neverbend this was a pretty little speech enough and received the eager compliments of the officers of the john bright" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 11870.9, "words": 680, "errors": 21, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "While this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy, still they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit, or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage. The treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford, and the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and corn cake for a diet. Julius, who was successful enough to bring his wife and a boy with him, was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions. Nor was he all muscled by a great deal. He was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness. In looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered, he could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced, from which it was evidence that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. Especially was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely or of good report belonging to the system. Julius had been kept in the dark in Maryland, but on free soil the light rushed in upon his astonished vision to a degree almost bewildering. That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit, since they were obtained from unpaid labor. In his review, allusion was made not only to his master, but also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman, middling stout. This was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections, and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward. It is hardly necessary to say more of them here. Henry was about twenty-three years of age, of an active turn, brown skin, and had given the question of freedom his most serious attention, as his actions proved. While he could neither read nor write, he could think. From the manner in which he expressed himself, with regard to Robert Holland, no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he. His enthrallment while under Holland will hardly ever be forgotten. Of this party, Edward, a boy of seventeen, called forth much sympathy. He, too, was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical makeup, and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely, a residence in Canada. Arrival from Maryland, 1858. John Wesley Combash, Jacob Taylor, and Thomas Edward Skinner. The revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to, and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt. John Wesley was thirty-two years of age, of a lively turn, pleasant countenance, dark color, and ordinary size. In unburdening his mind to the committee, the all-absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave, and the character of those who had oppressed him. He stated that he had been a victim of a man or party named Johnson, in whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high-handed phases of barbarism. Said he, These Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants. A few years back, one of their slaves, a coachman, was kept on the coach box one cold night, when they were out at a ball, until he became almost frozen to death. In fact, he did die in the infirmary from the effects of the frost about one week afterwards. Another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state, who was one day knocked down stairs by Mrs. Johnson herself, and in a few weeks after, the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received. The doctor who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-287645_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 239.81, "ms": 14463.7, "words": 680, "errors": 25, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 7, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 5, "text": "while this party was very respectable in regard to numbers and enlisted much sympathy still they had no wounds or bruises to exhibit or very hard reports to make relative to their bondage the treatment that had been metered out to them was about as tolerant as slavery could well afford and the physical condition of the passengers bore evidence that they had been used to something better than herring and corn-cake for a diet julius who was successful enough to bring his wife and a boy with him was a wonderful specimen of muscular proportions nor was he all muscled by a great deal He was well balanced as to mother wit and shrewdness. In looking back into the pit from which he had been delivered, he could tell a very interesting story of what he had experienced, from which it was evidence that he had not been an idle observer of what had passed relative to that peculiar institution. especially was it very certain that he had never seen anything lovely or of good report belonging to the system julius had been kept in the dark in maryland but on free soil the light rushed in upon his astonished vision to a degree almost bewildering That his master was a man of means and pretty high standing, Julius thought was not much to his credit, since they were obtained from unpaid labor. In his review, allusion was made not only to his master, but also to his master. but also to his mistress, in which he said that she was a quarrelsome and crabbed woman, middling stout. This was what did the mischief so far as the running away was concerned. His wife and boy shared fully in his affections, and seemed well pleased to have their faces turned Canadaward. it is hardly necessary to say more of them here henry was about twenty-three years of age of an active turn brown skin and had given the question of freedom his most serious attention as his actions proved while he could neither read nor write he could think from the manner in which he expressed himself with regard to robert holland no man in the whole range of his recollections will be longer remembered than he his enthralment while under holland will hardly ever be forgotten of this party edward a boy of seventeen called forth much sympathy He, too, was claimed by Holland. He was of good physical makeup and seemed to value highly the great end he had in view, namely a residence in Canada. Arrival from Maryland, 1858. John Wesley Combash, Jacob Taylor, and Thomas Edward Skinner. the revelations made by these passengers were painful to listen to and would not have been credited if any room had existed for doubt john wesley was thirty-two years of age of a lively turn pleasant countenance dark color and ordinary size in unburdening his mind to the committee The all-absorbing theme related to the manner in which he had been treated as a slave, and the character of those who had oppressed him. He stated that he had been a victim of a man or party named Johnson, in whose family John had been a witness to some of the most high-handed phases of barbarism. Said he, \"These Johnsons were notorious for abusing their servants. A few years back one of their slaves, a coachman, was kept on the coach box one cold night when they were out at a ball until he became almost frozen to death in fact he did die in the infirmary from the effects of the frost about one week afterwards another case was that of a slave woman in a very delicate state who was one day knocked down stairs by mrs johnson herself and in a few weeks after the poor woman died from the effects of the injury thus received The doctor who attended the injured creature in this case was simply told that she slipped and fell down the stairs as she was coming down." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 11014.9, "words": 511, "errors": 17, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "the deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us admits professor aranach's early in this novel what goes on in those distant depths what creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water it's almost beyond conjecture this reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of twenty thousand leagues under the seas born in the french river town of nance verne had a lifelong passion for the sea first as a paris stockbroker later as a celebrated author and yachtsman he went on frequent voyages to britain america the mediterranean but the specific stimulus for this novel was an eighteen sixty five fan letter for a fellow writer madame george sand thus inspired and created one of literature's great rebels a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare initially burns narrative was influenced by the eighteen sixty three uprising of poland against sarist russia nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine the nautilus then conducts and underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor verne reworked its political content devising new nationalities for nemo and his great enemy information revealed only in a later novel the mysterious island eighteen seventy five in the present work nemo's background remains a dark secret in all the novel had a difficult gestation these observations partly apply here shark attacks giant squid cannibals hurricanes whale hunts and other rip-roaring adventures erupt almost at random these unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum other subtleties occur inside each episode the textures sparkling with wit information and insight and verne regards the sea from many angles in the domain of marine biology he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish seashells coral sometimes in great catalogs that swirl past like musical cascades in the realm of geology he studied volcanoes literally inside and out in the world of commerce he celebrates the high energy entrepreneurs who lay the atlantic cable or dig the suez canal and verne's marine engineering proves especially authoritative his specifications for an open sea submarine and a self-containing diving suit were decades before their time yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly true today's scientists know a few things he didn't the south pole isn't at the water's edge but far inland sharks don't flip over before attacking giant squid sport ten tentacles not eight sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins this notwithstanding verne furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of jacques custod and technicolor film lastly the book has stature as a novel of character even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn professor aranax the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict conseil the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous taglines for verne's fast facts the harpooner ned land a creature of constant appetites man as heroic animal but much of the novel's brooding power comes from captain nemo" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294825_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 225.25, "ms": 14591.2, "words": 511, "errors": 14, "deleted": 2, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 2, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "the deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us admits professor aranax early in this novel what goes on in those distant depths what creatures inhabit or could inhabit those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water it is almost beyond conjecture this reality begins to explain the dark power and otherworldly fascination of twenty thousand leagues under the seas born in the french river town of nantes verne had a lifelong passion for the sea first as a paris stockbroker later as a celebrated author and yachtsman he went on frequent voyages to britain america the mediterranean but the specific stimulus for this novel was an eighteen sixty five fan letter from a fellow writer madame george sand thus inspired verne created one of literature's great rebels a freedom fighter who plunged beneath the waves to wage a unique form of guerrilla warfare initially verne's narrative was influenced by the eighteen sixty three uprising of poland against czarist russia nemo builds a fabulous futuristic submarine the nautilus then conducts an underwater campaign of vengeance against his imperialist oppressor verne reworked its political content devising new nationalities for Nemo and his great enemy, information revealed only in a later novel, The Mysterious Island, 1875. In the present work, Nemo's background remains a dark secret. In all, the novel had a difficult gestation. these observations partly apply here shark attacks giant squid cannibals hurricanes whale hunts and other rip-roaring adventures erupt almost at random these unifying threads tighten the narrative and accelerate its momentum Other subtleties occur inside each episode, the textures sparkling with wit, information, and insight. Vern regards the sea from many angles. In the domain of marine biology, he gives us thumbnail sketches of fish, seashells, coral, sometimes in great catalogs that swirl past like musical cascades. In the realm of geology, he studied volcanoes, literally inside and out. In the world of commerce, he celebrates the high-energy entrepreneurs who lay the Atlantic Cable or dig the Suez Canal. And Vern's marine engineering proves especially authoritative. His specifications for an open-sea submarine and a self-containing diving suit were decades before their time, yet modern technology bears them out triumphantly. True, today's scientists know a few things he didn't. The South Pole isn't at the water's edge but far inland. Sharks don't flip over before attacking. giant squid sport ten tentacles not eight sperm whales don't prey on their whalebone cousins this notwithstanding vern furnishes the most evocative portrayal of the ocean depths before the arrival of jacques cousteau and technicolor film lastly the book has stature as a novel of character even the supporting cast is shrewdly drawn professor aranax the career scientist caught in an ethical conflict conseil the compulsive classifier who supplies humorous tag lines for vern's fast facts the harpooner ned land a creature of constant appetites man as heroic animal but much of the novel's brooding power comes from captain nemo" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 12215.2, "words": 620, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "Chapter 3. As Master Wishes Three seconds before the arrival of J.B. Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the Northwest Passage. Three seconds after reading this letter from the Honorable Secretary of the Navy, I understood at last that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it. Even so, I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections. But now nothing could hold me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused, all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France. That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas as a personal favor to me, and I'll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a meter of its ivory lance. Conce was my manservant, a devoted lad who went with me on all of my journeys, a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment, a born stoic, punctilious on principle, habitually hard-working, rarely startled by life's surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means counsel, never giving advice, not even the unsolicited kind. From rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two. In Conce, I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. But there his science came to a halt. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. Well versed in the theory of classification, he was poorly versed in its practical application, and I doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale. And yet, what a fine, gallant lad! For the past ten years, Conce had gone with me wherever science beckoned. Not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey. Never did he object to buckling up his suitcase for any country whatever, China or the Congo, no matter how far off it was. He went here, there, and everywhere in perfect contentment. The lad was thirty years old, and his age to that of his employer was as fifteen is to twenty. Please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that I had turned forty. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person, to the point where it got tiresome. Conce, I repeated, while feverishly beginning my preparations for departure. To be sure, I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely, a hazardous undertaking whose purpose was to hunt an animal that could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell. There was good reason to stop and think, even for the world's most emotionless man. What would Conce say? Conce, I called a third time. Conce appeared. Did Master summon me? He said, entering. We're departing in two hours. As Master wishes, Conce replied serenely. We haven't a moment to lose." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8463-294828_0000", "speaker": "8463", "seconds": 236.15, "ms": 15153.5, "words": 620, "errors": 14, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 6, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "Chapter 3: As Master Wishes Three seconds before the arrival of J.B. Hobson's letter, I no more dreamed of chasing the unicorn than of trying for the Northwest Passage. three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable secretary of the navy i understood at last that my true vocation my sole purpose in life was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it Even so, I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the botanical gardens, my dearly beloved collections. But now nothing could hold me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government's offer. Besides, I mused. All roads lead home to Europe. and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of france that fine animal may even let itself be captured in european seas as a personal favor to me and i'll bring back to the museum of natural history at least half a meter of its ivory lance conse was my man's servant a devoted lad who went with me on all of my journeys a gallant flemish boy whom i genuinely liked and who returned the compliment a born stoic punctilious on principle habitually hard-working rarely startled by life's surprises very skillful with his hands efficient in his every duty and despite his having a name that means counsel never giving advice not even the unsolicited kind. From rubbing shoulders with scientists in our little universe by the botanical gardens, the boy had come to know a thing or two. In Conce, I had a seasoned specialist in biological classification, An enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. But there his science came to a halt. classifying was everything to him so he knew nothing else well versed in the theory of classification he was poorly versed in its practical application and i doubt that he could tell a sperm whale from a baleen whale and yet what a fine gallant lad for the past ten years conse had gone with me wherever science beckoned not once did he comment on the length or the hardships of the journey never did he object to buckling up his suit-case for any country whatever china or the congo no matter how far off it was he went here there and everywhere in perfect contentment the lad was thirty years old and his age to that of his employer was as fifteen is to twenty please forgive me for this underhanded way of admitting that i had turned forty he was a fanatic on formality and he only addressed me in the third person to the point where it got tiresome conseil i repeated while feverishly beginning my preparations for departure. To be sure, I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys, but this time an expedition was at issue that could drag on indefinitely. a hazardous undertaking whose purpose was to hunt an animal that could sink a frigate as easily as a walnut shell there was good reason to stop and think even for the world's most emotionless man what would conseil say conseil i called a third time conseil appeared did master summon me he said entering we're departing in two hours as master wishes conseil replied serenely we haven't a moment to lose" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 12659.2, "words": 752, "errors": 27, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "he found the cord still tied to his big toe and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing-room while he put on his clothes the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull hoping to hurt cap'n bill's big toe and make him yell but as no response came to this mean action the buliru finally looked into the room only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch and that his prisoner had escaped then he flew into a mighty rage and running out into the hall he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard knocking the fellow off his feet then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured while the buliru stormed and raged a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in surrounding cap'n bill who was again firmly bound so no one can resist the mighty buliru of the blues so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands hold him fast to my men and as soon as i've had my coffee and oatmeal i'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him i wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself said cap'n bill i've had considerable exercise this morning and i'm all ready for breakfast very well replied the buliru you shall eat with me for then i can keep an eye on you my guards are not to be trusted and i don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched so cap'n bill and the buliru had breakfast together six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailorman to grab him if he attempted to escape but cap'n bill made no such attempt knowing it would be useless trot was in the room too standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save cap'n bill from being patched no one could see her so no one not even cap'n bill knew she was there after breakfast was over a procession was formed headed by the buliru and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife invisible trot followed soberly after them still wondering what she could do to save her friend as soon as they entered the room of the great knife the buliru gave a yell of disappointment the frightened soldiers hurried away to find tiggel and trot was well pleased because she knew tiggel was by this time safely hidden the buliru stamped up and down the room muttering threats and declaring cap'n bill should be patched whether tiggel was found or not and while they waited trot took time to make an inspection of the place which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight the room of the great knife was high and big and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon in one place at the head of the room was a raised platform for the royal family with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snub-nosed princesses the poor queen by the way was seldom seen as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game therefore her majesty paid no attention to any one and no one paid any attention to her in the center of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the blue city the knife was built into a huge framework like a derrick that reached to the ceiling and it was so arranged that when the buliru pulled a cord the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it and in order that the slicing would be accurate there was another frame to which the prisoner was tied so that he couldn't wiggle either way this frame was on rollers so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284447_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 234.39, "ms": 14982.0, "words": 752, "errors": 30, "deleted": 5, "inserted": 5, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 2, "text": "he found the cord still tied to his big toe and at first imagined his prisoner was safe in the dressing-room while he put on his clothes the king occasionally gave the cord a sudden pull hoping to hurt cap'n bill's big toe and make him yell but as no response came to this mean action the bulirou finally looked into the room only to find he had been pulling on a leg of the couch and that his prisoner had escaped then he flew into a mighty rage and running out into the hall he aimed a blow at the unfaithful guard knocking the fellow off his feet then he rushed downstairs into the courtyard shouting loudly for his soldiers and threatening to patch everybody in his dominions if the sailorman was not recaptured while the bularoos stormed and raged a band of soldiers and citizens came marching in surrounding cap'n bill who was again firmly bound so no one can resist the mighty buleroo of the blues so it is folly for you to rebel against my commands hold him fast to my men and as soon as i've had my coffee and oatmeal i'll take him to the room of the great knife and patch him i wouldn't mind a cup of coffee myself said cap'n bill i've had considerable exercise this morning and i'm all ready for breakfast very well replied the boule-a-roo you shall eat with me for then i can keep an eye on you my guards are not to be trusted and i don't mean to let you out of my sight again until you are patched so cap'n bill and the bullaroo had breakfast together six blueskins standing in a row back of the sailorman to grab him if he attempted to escape but cap'n bill made no such attempt knowing it would be useless trot was in the room too standing in a corner and listening to all that was said while she racked her little brain for an idea that would enable her to save cap'n bill from being patched no one could see her so no one not even cap'n bill knew she was there after breakfast was over a procession was formed headed by the buliru and they marched the prisoner through the palace until they came to the room of the great knife invisible trot followed soberly after them still wondering what she could do to save her friend as soon as they entered the room of the great knife the buliru gave a yell of disappointment the frightened soldiers hurried away to find tigle and trot was well pleased because she knew tigle was by this time safely hidden the bouleroo stamped up and down the room muttering threats and declaring cap'n bill should be patched whether tiggle was found or not and while they waited trot took time to make an inspection of the place which she now saw for the first time in broad daylight the room of the great knife was high and big and around it ran rows of benches for the spectators to sit upon in one place at the head of the room was a raised platform for the royal family with elegant throne chairs for the king and queen and six smaller but richly upholstered chairs for the snub-nosed princesses the poor queen by the way was seldom seen as she passed all her time playing solitaire with a deck that was one card short hoping that before she had lived her entire six hundred years she would win the game therefore her majesty paid no attention to any one and no one paid any attention to her in the centre of the room stood the terrible knife that gave the place its name a name dreaded by every inhabitant of the blue city the knife was built into a huge framework like a derrick that reached the ceiling and it was so arranged that when the buliru pulled a cord the great blade would drop down in its frame and neatly cut into the person who stood under it and in order that the slicing would be accurate there was another frame to which the prisoner was tied so that he couldn't wiggle either way this frame was on rollers so that it could be placed directly underneath the knife" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 13456.9, "words": 675, "errors": 32, "deleted": 4, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "so they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen and in a short time the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace in this order they proceeded to the main gate which trot ordered the guards to throw wide open then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them at the head of the pinkies were gip gcizzle and button bright who had the parrot on his shoulder and they were supported by captain coralie and captain tintent and rosalie the witch they had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards that they might rescue trot and cap'n bill and conquer the boolaroo so when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate with banners flying and bands playing they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place however as the two forces came nearer together button bright spied trot and cap'n bill standing before the enemy and the sight astonished him considerably welcome friends shouted cap'n bill in a loud voice and welcome cried trot and welcome roared the blue soldiers and the people of the blue city hooray yelled the parrot and then he flapped his wings and barched like a dog with pure delight and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak said button bright i can't hear myself think the pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues and hesitated to advance but trot now ran up in front of them and made a little speech pinkies said she your queen has conquered the blue and is now the queen of the blues all of sky island except the fog bank is now my kingdom so i welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time the war is over and everybody must be sociable and happy or i'll know the reason why now indeed the pinkies raised a great shout of joy and the blues responded with another joyful shout and rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders and everybody shook hands with cap'n bill and congratulated him upon his escape and the parrot flew to trot's shoulder and screeched when the blueskin saw gipkissizzle they raised another great shout for he was the favourite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people but gipkissizzle did not heed the shouting he was looking downcast and sad and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the buleroo himself but the people called upon him for a speech so he faced the blueskins and said i escaped from the city because the bulleroo tried to patch me as you all know and the six snub-nosed princesses tried to marry me which would have been a far greater misfortune since last thursday i gipkissizzle have been the lawful bulleroo of the blue country but now that you are conquered by queen trot i suppose i am conquered too and you have no bulleroo at all hurrah cried the parrot when he finished she said cheerfully don't worry sizzle dear it'll all come right pretty soon now then let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked i'm nearly starving myself for this conquering kingdoms is hard work so the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merry-making that lasted for three full days the parrot perched upon the back of queen trot's chair and the girl fed it herself being glad to have the jolly bird with her again" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-284449_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 235.21, "ms": 15171.2, "words": 675, "errors": 33, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 2, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "so they were quite willing to obey the orders of their girl queen and in a short time the blast of trumpets and roll of drums and clashing of cymbals told trot and cap'n bill that the blue bands had assembled before the palace in this order they proceeded to the main gate which trot ordered the guards to throw wide open then they all marched out a little way into the fields and found that the army of pinkies had already formed and was advancing steadily toward them at the head of the pinkies were gipka sizzle and button bright who had the parrot on his shoulder and they were supported by captain coralie and captain tintant and rosalie the witch they had decided to capture the blue city at all hazards that they might rescue trot and cap'n bill and conquer the bularoos so when from a distance they saw the blueskins march from the gate with banners flying and bands playing they supposed a most terrible fight was about to take place however as the two forces came nearer together button-bright spied trot and cap'n bill standing before the enemy and the sight astonished him considerably welcome friends shouted cap'n bill in a loud voice and welcome cried trot and welcome roared the blue soldiers and the people of the blue city hurrah yelled the parrot and then he flapped his wings and barched like a dog with pure delight and added as fast as his bird's tongue could speak said button-bright i can't hear myself think the pinkies were amazed at the strange reception of the blues and hesitated to advance but trot now ran up in front of them and made a little speech pinkies said she your queen has conquered the bularoo and is now the queen of the blues all of sky island except the fog bank is now my kingdom so i welcome my faithful pinkies to my blue city where you are to be royally entertained and have a good time the war is over and everybody must be sociable and happy or i'll know the reason why now indeed the pinkies raised a great shout of joy and the blues responded with another joyful shout and rosalie kissed the little girl and said she had performed wonders and everybody shook hands with cap'n bill and congratulated him upon his escape and the parrot flew to trot's shoulder and screeched when the blueskin saw gipkissizzle they raised another great shout for he was the favourite of the soldiers and very popular with all the people but gipkissizzle did not heed the shouting he was looking downcast and sad and it was easy to see he was disappointed because he had not conquered the buleroo himself but the people called upon him for a speech so he faced the blueskins and said i escaped from the city because the bullero tried to patch me as you all know and the six snub-nosed princesses tried to marry me which would have been a far greater misfortune since last thursday i gip gisizzle have been the lawful bullaroo of the blue country but now that you are conquered by queen trot i suppose i am conquered too and you have no bullaroo at all hurrah cried the parrot when he finished she said cheerfully don't worry sizzle dear it'll all come right pretty soon now then let's enter the city and enjoy the great feast that's being cooked i'm nearly starving myself for this conquering kingdoms is hard work so the pinkies and the blues marched side by side into the city and there was great rejoicing and music and dancing and feasting and games and merry-making that lasted for three full days the parrot perched upon the back of queen trot's chair and the girl fed it herself being glad to have the jolly bird with her again" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 12881.7, "words": 511, "errors": 6, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of color through the sky that swirl and sweep and meet to break and foam like rainbow veils upon a bubble's dome yours are the songs that burst about my ears or blow away as many-colored spheres you are the star that made the skies all bright yet tore itself away in flaming flight you are the tree that suddenly awoke you are the rose that came to life and spoke guided by you how we might stroll towards death our only music one another's breath through gardens intimate with hollyhocks where silent poppies burned between the rocks by pools where birches bend to confidants above green waters scummed with lily plants there we might wander you and i alone through gardens filled with marble seats moss-grown and fountains water-threads that winds disperse while in the spray the birds sit and converse and when the fireflies mix their circling glow through the dark plants then gently might i know your lips light as the wings of the dragon-flies merely dreams fluttering in my eyes you thought i had forgotten you thought i had forgotten well i had although i never guessed i could forget those few great moments when we both went mad it was some trick the way your eyebrows raise your hands some vivid trifle with a start then i remembered how i lived alone writing bad poems and eating out my heart all for your beauty how the time has flown venice in a sunset glowing of crimson and gold she lies the glory of the world a beached king's galley whose sails are furled who is hung with tapestries rich and old she is a goddess left for us veiled with the softening veils of time her blue vain breasts are now sublime her moulded torso glorious the pity that we must come and go while the old gold and the marble stays forever gleaming its soft strong blaze calm in the early evening glow and still the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track light on the tides as lilies and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets the new macabre the pleasant graveyard of my soul with sentimental cypress trees and flowers is filled that i may stroll in meditation at my ease and while night rustles through the trees dragging the stars along i know the moon is rising on the breeze quivering as in a river's flow and ah that moon of silver sheen it is my heart hung in the sky and no clouds ever float between the grave flowers and my heart on high i do not read upon each stone the name that once was carven there i merely note new blossoms blown and breathe the perfume of the air thus walk i through my wonderland while all the evening is a tune beneath the cybers trees that stand like candles to the barren moon to war" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "8555-292519_0000", "speaker": "8555", "seconds": 237.75, "ms": 15366.7, "words": 511, "errors": 7, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "brighter than early dawn's most brilliant dye are blown clear bands of color through the sky that swirl and sweep and meet to break and foam like rainbow veils upon a bubble's dome yours are the songs that burst about my ears or blow away as many-colored spheres you are the star that made the skies all bright yet tore itself away in flaming flight you are the tree that suddenly awoke you are the rose that came to life and spoke guided by you how we might stroll towards death our only music one another's breath through gardens intimate with hollyhocks where silent poppies burn between the rocks by pools where birches bend to confidants above green waters scummed with lily plants there we might wander you and i alone through gardens filled with marble seats moss-grown and fountains water-threads that winds disperse while in the spray the birds sit and converse and when the fireflies mix their circling glow through the dark plants then gently might i know your lips light as the wings of the dragonflies merely dreams fluttering in my eyes you thought i had forgotten you thought i had forgotten well i had although i never guessed i could forget those few great moments when we both went mad it was some trick the way your eyebrows raise your hands some vivid trifle with a start then i remembered how i lived alone writing bad poems and eating out my heart all for your beauty how the time has flown venice in a sunset glowing of crimson and gold she lies the glory of the world a beached king's galley whose sails are furled who is hung with tapestries rich and old she is a goddess left for us veiled with the softening veils of time her blue vain breasts are now sublime her moulded torso glorious the pity that we must come and go while the old gold and the marble stays forever gleaming its soft strong blaze calm in the early evening glow and still the sensitive silhouettes of the gondolas pass and leave no track light on the tides as lilies and black in the rippling waters of long sunsets the new macabre the pleasant graveyard of my soul with sentimental cypress trees and flowers is filled that i may stroll in meditation at my ease and while night rustles through the trees dragging the stars along i know the moon is rising on the breeze quivering as in a river's flow and ah that moon of silver sheen it is my heart hung in the sky and no clouds ever float between the grave flowers and my heart on high i do not read upon each stone the name that once was carven there i merely note new blossoms blown and breathe the perfume of the air thus walk i through my wonderland while all the evening is a tune beneath the cybers trees that stand like candles to the barren moon to war" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 13227.2, "words": 520, "errors": 37, "deleted": 3, "inserted": 11, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 8, "text": "Does the eagle know what is in the pit? To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day. Down by the river of Adonna her soft voice is heard, And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew. O life of this our spring, why fades the lotus of the water? Why fade these children of the spring, born but to smile and fall? Ah, Thel is like a watery bow and like a parting cloud, Like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water, Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face, Like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air. Ah, gentle may I lay me down in gentle rest my head, And gentle sleep the sleep of death, And gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time. The lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass, Answered the lovely maid and said, I am a watery weed, and I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly veils. So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head, yet I am visited from heaven, And he that smiles on all walks in the valley, And each morn over me spreads his hand, saying, Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou newborn lily flower, Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks, For thou shall be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna, Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs, To flourish in eternal veils. They, why should Thel complain? Why should the mistress of the veils of Har utter a sigh? She ceased, and smiled in tears, Then sat down in her silver shrine. Thel answered, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, Thy wine doth purify the golden honey, Thy perfume, which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs, Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed, But Thel is like a faint cloud, kindled at the rising sun. I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place? Queen of the veils, the lily answered, Ask the tender cloud, and it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky, And why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. Descend, O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel. O little cloud, the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away. Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah, Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. The cloud then showed his golden head, and his bright form emerged, Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel. O virgin, knowest thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs, Where Louva doth renew his horses? Lookest thou on my youth, and fearest thou because I vanish, And am seen no more? Nothing remains. O maid, I tell thee when I pass away, And I think that's a good thing." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-157963_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 219.87, "ms": 13743.6, "words": 520, "errors": 27, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 3, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "does the eagle know what is in the pit to fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day down by the river of adonna her soft voice is heard and thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew o life of this our spring why fades the lotus of the water why fade these children of the spring born but to smile and fall ah thel is like a watery bow and like a parting cloud like a reflection in a glass like shadows in the water like dreams of infants like a smile upon an infant's face like the dove's voice, like transient day, like music in the air. Ah, gentle may I lay me down in gentle rest my head, and gentle sleep the sleep of death and gently hear the voice of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time the lily of the valley breathing in the humble grass answered the lovely maid and said i am a watery weed and i am very small and love to dwell in lowly veils so weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head yet i am visited from heaven and he that smiles on all walks in the valley and each morn over me spreads his hand saying rejoice thou humble grass thou new-born lily flower thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks for thou shalt be clothed in light and fed with morning manna till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs to flourish in eternal vales they why should thou complain why should the mistress of the vales of har utter a sigh She ceased and smiled in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine. Thel answered, O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley, thy wine doth purify the golden honey. thy perfume which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs revives the milked cow and tames the fire-breathing steed but thou is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun i vanish from my pearly throne and who shall find my place queen of the veils the lily answered ask the tender cloud and it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky and why it scatters its bright beauty through the humid air. Descend, O little cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel. O little cloud, the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away. Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah, Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice. the cloud then showed his golden head and his bright form emerged hovering and glittering on the air before the face of phel o virgin know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs where luva doth renew his horses lookest thou on my youth and fearest thou because i vanish and am seen no more nothing remains o maid i tell thee when i pass away" }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "whole", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 10828.3, "words": 522, "errors": 11, "deleted": 0, "inserted": 1, "longestGap": 0, "longestExtra": 1, "text": "All is said without a word. I sit beneath thy looks, as children do in the noon sun, with souls that tremble through their happy eyelids from an unaverd yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most, but the occasion that we too should for a moment stand unministered by a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close, thou dove-like help. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed a wrong on thee. Is the same, the same, perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy? When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers or break off from a game, to run and answer with the smile that came at play last moment, and went on with me through my obedience. Shall I never miss home talk and blessing and the common kiss that comes to each in turn? Nor count it strange when I look up to drop on a new range of walls and floors another home than this. Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is filled by dead eyes too tender, to know change that's hardest? If to conquer love has tried to conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove, for grief indeed is love, and grief beside. Alas! I have grieved, so I am hard to love. Yet love me. Wilt thou? Open thy heart wide, and fold within the wet wings of thy dove. Could it mean, to last, a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled, distrusting every light that seemed to gild the onward path, in fear to over-lean, a finger even. And though I have grown serene and strong since then, I think that God has willed a still renewable fear. O love! O troth! Lest these enclasped hands should never hold, this mutual kiss drop down between us both as an unowned thing, once the lips being cold, and love be false. If he, to keep one oath, must lose one joy, by his life's star foretold. Slow to world greetings, quick with its O list! when the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight than that first kiss. The second passed in height, the first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, half falling on the hair. O beyond mead! That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, with sanctifying sweetness, did proceed, the third upon my lips, was folded down in perfect, purple state. Since when, indeed, I have been proud, and said, my love, my own. Dearest, teach me so, to pour out gratitude, as thou dost good. They love through all this world of ours. Musselmans, and Gaiors, throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth for any weeping. Polypheme's white tooth slips on the nut, if, after frequent showers, the shell is over-smooth, and not so much, will turn the thing called love, aside to hate, or else to oblivion. But thou art not such a lover, my beloved." }, { "engine": "whisper", "condition": "pieces", "id": "908-31957_0000", "speaker": "908", "seconds": 234.65, "ms": 14758.7, "words": 522, "errors": 14, "deleted": 1, "inserted": 0, "longestGap": 1, "longestExtra": 0, "text": "all is said without a word i sit beneath thy looks as children do in the noon sun with souls that tremble through their happy eyelids from an unaverred yet prodigal inward joy behold I erred in that last doubt, and yet I cannot rue the sin most but the occasion that we too should, for a moment, stand unministered by a mutual present. Ah, keep near and close. thou dove-like help i did not wrong myself so but i placed a wrong on thee is the same the same perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy When called before, I told how hastily I dropped my flowers, or break off from a game, to run and answer with the smile that came at play last moment. and went on with me through my obedience shall i never miss home-talk and blessing and the common kiss that comes to each in turn nor count it strange when i look up to drop on a new range of walls and floors another home than this nay wilt thou fill that place by me which is filled by dead eyes too tender to know change that's hardest if to conquer love has tried to conquer grief tries more as all things prove for grief indeed is love and grief beside alas i have grieved so i am hard to love yet love me wilt thou open thy heart wide and fold within the wet wings of thy dove could it mean to last a love set pendulous between sorrow and sorrow nay i rather thrilled distrusting every light that seemed to gild the onward path in fear to overlean a finger even and though i have grown serene and strong since then i think that god has willed a still renewable fear o love o troth lest these enclasped hands should never hold this mutual kiss dropped down between us both as an unowned thing once the lips being cold and love be false if he to keep one oath must lose one joy by his life's star foretold slow to world greetings quick with its o list when the angels speak a ring of amethyst i could not wear here plainer to my sight than that first kiss the second passed in height the first and sought the forehead in half mist half falling on the hair oh beyond mead that was the chrism of love which love's own crown with sanctifying sweetness did proceed the third upon my lips was folded down in perfect purple state since when indeed i have been proud and said my love my own dearest teach me so to pour out gratitude as thou dost good they love through all this world of ours and gaiors throw kerchiefs at a smile and have no ruth for any weeping polypheem's white tooth slips on the nut if after frequent showers the shell is over-smooth and not so much will turn the thing called love aside to hate or else to oblivion but thou art not such a lover my beloved" } ] }