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The Hound of the Baskervilles is the third of the crime novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle featuring the detective Sherlock Holmes. Originally serialized in The Strand Magazine from August 1901 to April 1902, it is set largely on Dartmoorin Devon in England's West Country and tells the story of an attempted murder inspired by the legend of a fearsome, diabolical hound of supernatural origin.

Well do I remember the first time I stumbled upon the Indian village in which he lived. I had set out from Montreal with two trappers to pay a visit to the Labrador coast; we had travelled most of the way in a small Indian canoe, coasting along the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and reconnoitering in the woods for portages to avoid rounding long capes and points of land, and sometimes in search of game; for we depended almost entirely upon our guns for food.(Illustrated)

THE invasion of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies by Garibaldi with a force of but a thousand irregular troops is one of the most romantic episodes ever recorded in military history. In many respects it rivals the conquest of Mexico by Cortez. The latter won, not by the greater bravery of his troops, but by their immense superiority in weapons and defensive armour. Upon the contrary, Garibaldi’s force were ill-armed and practically without artillery, and were opposed by an army of a hundred and twenty thousand men carrying the best weapons of the time, and possessing numerous and powerful artillery. In both cases the invaders were supported by a portion of the population who had been reduced to a state of servitude, and who joined them against their oppressors. There is another point of resemblance between these remarkable expeditions, inasmuch as the leaders of both were treated with the grossest ingratitude by the monarchs for whom they had gained such large acquisitions of territory. For the leading incidents in the campaign I have relied chiefly upon Garibaldi’s Autobiography and the personal narrative of the campaign by Captain Forbes, R.N.G. A. HENTY.

WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT A Tale of the Seven Years' War. With 12 full-page illustrations. The hero of this story while still a youth entered the service of Frederick the Great, and by a succession of fortunate circumstances and perilous adventures, rose to the rank of colonel. Attached to the staff of the king, he rendered distinguished services in many battles, in one of which he saved the king's life. Twice captured and imprisoned, he both times escaped from the Austrian fortresses. The story follows closely the historic lines, and no more vivid description of the memorable battles of Rossbach, Leuthen, Prague, Zorndorf, Hochkirch, and Torgau can be found anywhere than is here given. Woven in this there runs the record of the daring and hazardous adventures of the hero, and the whole narrative has thus, with historic accuracy, the utmost charm of romance.

What is the most interesting book in all the world? Perhaps different people would give different answers to this question. Boys might think of books describing the lives and actions of great men in history: the battles they fought, the brave deeds they did, and the wonderful things they accomplished. And girls might think of the life-story of some noble woman, less prominent on the world's stage but equally brave, and perhaps more useful and helpful to those with whom she came in contact.But while such books are both interesting and helpful, yet there is ONE BOOK that far surpasses all others, not only as a book of history and narrative, but in every other way. That book is THE BIBLE.In it are found stories of the very earliest times. The first of all stories and the most wonderful of all stories is found in the first Chapter of Genesis. There we read how God, in six days, prepared this world to be the habitation of men, providing for their use, with gracious care, every tree pleasant to the sight and good for food. Then, when our first parents had sinned and brought ruin and death into the fair scene, God in wonderful grace gave them the promise of a SAVIOUR.Moreover, we know from the Bible that God will again prepare a new Heaven and a NEW EARTH wherein righteousness will dwell and into which sin cannot enter. Between the accounts of these two most wonderful events we find other stories of great and good men, brave and strong men, wise and noble men; of gentle and loving women, faithful and true women, kind and useful women.All these stories of men and women who have lived for God are recorded for our example, for only those who are really good can ever be truly great.But that which makes the Bible the book of supreme interest is that in it we find the wonderful STORY OF LOVE — the story of the Life and Death, the Resurrection, and Ascension to Heaven of our Lord Jesus Christ. All who know the Saviour love the Bible, for everything in it, in some way or other, speaks of Him. The Bible thus becomes to them a very precious possession. H. M. Stanley, the great explorer, when he set out to find Livingstone, took with him one hundred books to read while on his journey. As the difficulties of the march increased, and the loads of the carriers had to be lightened, everything not strictly necessary had to be thrown away. One by one the books followed, until ninety-nine out of the hundred had been left in the swamps of Central Africa, and only ONE remained. Which book do you think that was? It was the Bible. Stanley had selected the hundred most interesting books, but he found that the most interesting of all the hundred was the Word of God.In our days Bibles are so common and so easily procured that we are apt to think that they have always been so. And while we are deeply thankful for an open Bible in our Protestant land, yet we do well to remember that England has not always been a Protestant country, and the following pages are an endeavour to trace how the Scriptures came to us, and what a noble Englishman did and suffered in order that we might be able to read the Scriptures in our own language.

"Facing Death" is a story with a purpose. It is intended to show that a lad who makes up his mind firmly and resolutely that he will rise in life, and who is prepared to face toil and ridicule and hardship to carry out his determination, is sure to succeed. The hero of the story is a typical British boy, dogged, earnest, generous, and though "shame-faced" to a degree, is ready to face death in the discharge of duty. (This book is Illustrated)

Fifteen-year-old Ralph, mischievous young Peterkin and clever, brave Jack are shipwrecked on a coral reef with only a telescope and a broken pocketknife between them. At first the island seems a paradise, with its plentiful foods and wealth of natural wonders. But then a party of cannibals arrives, and after that a pirate ship...what is to become of them?R. M. Ballantyne (24 April 1825 – 8 February 1894) was a Scottish juvenile fiction writer.Born Robert Michael Ballantyne in Edinburgh, he was part of a famous family of printers and publishers. At the age of 16 he went to Canada and was six years in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company. He returned to Scotland in 1847, and published his first book the following year, Hudson's Bay: or, Life in the Wilds of North America. For some time he was employed by Messrs Constable, the publishers, but in 1856 he gave up business for the profession of literature, and began the series of adventure stories for the young with which his name is popularly associated.

The executioner was about to obey when a noise was heard at the door of the Council Chamber, and a cavalier, booted and spurred and splashed with mud, as if he had ridden fast and far, strode hastily up to the Duke and whispered in his ear. The effect of the whisper was striking, for an expression of mingled surprise, horror, and alarm overspread for a few moments even his hard visage. At the same time the Bishop of Galloway was observed to turn deadly pale, and an air of consternation generally marked the members of Council(Illustrated)

At the time of which I am about to write, you, dear young friends, who are the children of many prayers, and who have been taught from your earliest infancy to lisp the sweet name of Jesus, can have little or no idea of the spiritual darkness that hung over our land. You have been accustomed all your lives to hear the bells ringing out all around you, calling you Sunday after Sunday to hear the Word of God. You have been taught sweet hymns, and sweeter texts, all about the saving love of our tender Saviour and you know that your confession of love to Christ would be received with the deepest joy and thanksgiving by your loving Christian parents.But if you had lived in the thirteenth century how different would have been your lot. There would have been none then to gently lead you to the feet of Jesus, telling you of His free grace and dying love. If perchance your conscience was troubled about your sins, and you said in trembling tones, "What must I do to be saved?" there would have been none to answer lovingly, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." A shaven priest with austere countenance would perhaps have taken you by the hand and leading you to some dreary cell, would have shewn you a gaunt man, with haggard face and weary eyes, prostrate before a cross, and with the marks of the scourge upon his back. He would have told you that this man was doing his best by prayers and penances to reach at last the kingdom of heaven, and he would have advised you to go and do likewise. If, appalled by the sight, you shrank away, thinking to put off till another day your soul's salvation, a priest of quite another kind would perhaps have taken you under his care, and with a smile on his round red face would have told you of a far easier way to obtain the forgiveness of your sins. He would have whispered to you that the Church required money, and that by the payment of a certain sum he was able to forgive you all you had committed, or even would commit. The youngest of my readers would laugh to scorn such a thought, but in those days, from the king on the throne to the beggar by the wayside, there was scarcely one who would have dared to say, "God alone can forgive sins."You will say, But how could this be! I will tell you. In all our fair land there was not a Bible written in a language that the people could understand, and so the sweet words of the Lord Jesus were unknown. Thus the people were kept in utter ignorance, under the power of priests and friars, many of them wicked men who kept the truth from the poor souls around them, that by so doing they might enrich themselves, and add to their own power. How early had those who called themselves the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ forgotten His words! He, the gentle lowly One, had said, "Ye are not of the world even as I am not of the world." He had taught them that he who would be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, must be the least.

This is volume 10 of the "THE MOTOR BOYS" series "OVER THE ROCKIES"Excerpt from book:For a few minutes after rising in the airship, the boys were busy adjusting machinery and looking at various gauges to see that everything was running smoothly. The Comet had never behaved better, and was sailing along like a bird.“Some class to this, eh?” inquired Bob, who, in addition to his appetite, had another failing—that of using slang occasionally.“She’s running as well as we could expect, and a little better, considering the treatment she had at the hands of Noddy Nixon,” responded Jerry. “I’ll speed her a bit, now.”He adjusted the lever controlling the motor and propellers, and the big blades, in front of the airship, that served to pull it forward, whizzed around so swiftly that they looked like blurs of light. Then, fastening the side rudder, so that the craft would head due west, Jerry left the pilot house, and joined his companions in the main[96] cabin, where Professor Snodgrass was busy looking over his specimens, to ascertain if any had suffered harm when they escaped from the box during his rush through the crowd.“How did you happen to hear we were going to make another trip, Mr. Snodgrass?” asked Bob.“Why, your father mentioned it in a letter I had from him a few days ago,” answered the scientist. “I wrote, as I do, once in a while, to inquire how you all were, and when he replied he stated that you were going on a trip West, but he did not say what for. As it happened, the museum with which I am now connected, and for which I travel, collecting specimens, needed a flying lizard. They are very scarce, and only one museum that I know of has a specimen. So I decided to get another. These lizards are supposed to exist in certain parts of our country, and I think the west is as likely to contain them as is any other section. So as soon as I learned you were going there I hastily packed up, and came along. But I very nearly missed you.”“Yes, a few minutes more and we would have been gone,” observed Ned. “But you didn’t bring your trunk with you, Professor.”“No, I couldn’t manage it with my box of[97] specimens, spare cases in which to put new specimens I may get, my net and other things,” and, truly, it did seem as if the professor could not have carried another thing, for every pocket bulged with something, and over his shoulders and around his waist were strapped boxes and cases, besides various nets, and other instruments he used in his capture of insects and reptiles. “I will buy extra clothing at the first place we stop,” went on the scientist. “But you boys haven’t yet told me why you are going West, and your father didn’t mention it, Bob.”“We are going out to inspect our mine,” spoke Jerry quickly, at the same time guardedly motioning to Bob and Ned not to say anything about the incident of Jackson Bell, the former hermit. “We have heard that some one may try to get possession of it and we want to stop him.” Jerry decided it would be just as well, for the present, not to mention the trouble they had had with Noddy Nixon, and he also resolved to keep silent regarding the strange mystery they hoped to solve.“Well, your plans will not be interfered with by me,” continued Uriah Snodgrass. “I will go anywhere you do, and look for the flying lizard.” The professor went on, and told of his hurried trip to Cresville, that he might join his friends.[98] They talked of former trips, of his pursuit of the wonderful butterfly in the everglades of Florida, and of his search for the horned toad in California.