hors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part. The copyright system was created expressly for the purpose of encouraging authorship. In the domain for which it was invented--books, which could be copied economically only on a printing press--it did little harm, and did not obstruct most of the individuals who read the books.
All intellectual property rights are just licenses granted by society because it was thought, rightly or wrongly, that society as a whole would benefit by granting them. But in any particular situation, we have to ask: are we really better off granting such license? What kind of act are we licensing a person to do?
The case of programs today is very different from that of books a hundred years ago. The fact that the easiest way to copy a program is from one neighbor to another, the fact that a program has both source code and object code which are distinct, and the fact that a program is used ra
ee, Inshallah!" The old woman pondered for a full hour with brow earthwards bent; after which she raised her head and said to him, "O thou beautiful youth, wilt thou indeed keep compact and covenant?" He replied, "Yes, by Him who raised the heavens and dispread the earth upon the waters, I will indeed keep faith and troth!" Thereupon quoth she, "I will win for thee thy wish, Inshallah! but for the present go thou into the garden and take thy pleasure therein and eat of its fruits, that have neither like in the world nor equal, whilst I send for my son Shahyal and confabulate with him of the matter. Nothing but good shall come of it, so Allah please, for he will not gainsay me nor disobey my commandment and I will marry thee with his daughter Badi'a al-Jamal. So be of good heart for she shall assuredly be thy wife, O Sayf al-Muluk." The Prince thanked her for those words and kissing her hands and feet, went forth from her into the garden; whilst she turned to Marjanah and said to her, "Go seek my son Shahyal w
ll the knowledge of good and evil that God had perhaps given her, but that no one had ever thought of developing. I shall always remember her, as she passed along the boulevards almost every day at the same hour, accompanied by her mother as assiduously as a real mother might have accompanied her daughter. I was very young then, and ready to accept for myself the easy morality of the age. I remember, however, the contempt and disgust which awoke in me at the sight of this scandalous chaperoning. Her face, too, was inexpressibly virginal in its expression of innocence and of melancholy suffering. She was like a figure of Resignation.
One day the girl's face was transfigured. In the midst of all the debauches mapped out by her mother, it seemed to her as if God had left over for her one happiness. And why indeed should God, who had made her without strength, have left her without consolation, under the sorrowful burden of her life? One day, then, she realized that she was to have a child, and all that re
looking as though it had been but just torn off. One side of the paper was entirely blank -- or at least, if there ever had been any writing upon it, it had disappeared through the influence of time and damp; on the other were some blurred and indistinct characters, so faded as to be scarcely distinguishable, and, in a bold hand-writing in fresh black ink the two letters "Ra".
Since the ink with which these letters were written corresponded exactly with that which I was in the habit of using, I could hardly doubt that they had been written at my table, and were the commencement of some explanation that the spectre had wished, but for some reason found himself unable, to make. Why he should have taken the trouble to bring his own paper with him I could not understand, but I inferred that probably some mystery was hidden beneath those undecipherable yellow marks, so I turned all my attention to them. After patient and long-continued effort, however, I was unable to make anything like sense out of them,
ig chief," went on Jones, "me go far north--Land of LittleSticks--Naza! Naza! rope musk-ox; rope White Manitou of GreatSlave Naza! Naza!"
"Naza!" replied the Navajo, pointing to the North Star; "no--no."
"Yes me big paleface--me come long way toward setting sun--gocross Big Water--go Buckskin--Siwash--chase cougar."
The cougar, or mountain lion, is a Navajo god and the Navajoshold him in as much fear and reverence as do the Great SlaveIndians the musk-ox.
"No kill cougar," continued Jones, as the Indian's bold featureshardened. "Run cougar horseback--run long way--dogs chase cougarlong time--chase cougar up tree! Me big chief--me climbtree--climb high up--lasso cougar--rope cougar--tie cougar alltight."
The Navajo's solemn face relaxed
"White man heap fun. No."
"Yes," cried Jones, extending his great arms. "Me strong; me ropecougar--me tie cougar; ride off wigwam, keep cougar alive."
"No," replied the savage vehemently.
"Yes," protested Jones, nodding earnestly.
"No," a
ied; in which the narrator of the tale finds himself unexpectedly involved both on its ruthless and its delicate side.
"Falk" shares with one other of my stories ("The Return" in the "Tales of Unrest" volume) the distinction of never having been serialized. I think the copy was shown to the editor of some magazine who rejected it indignantly on the sole ground that "the girl never says anything." This is perfectly true. From first to last Hermann's niece utters no word in the tale -- and it is not because she is dumb, but for the simple reason that whenever she happens to come under the observation of the narrator she has either no occasion or is too profoundly moved to speak. The editor, who obviously had read the story, might have perceived that for himself. Apparently he did not, and I refrained from pointing out the impossibility to him because, since he did not venture to say that "the girl" did not live, I felt no concern at his indignation.
All the other stories were serialized. The "Typh
Tales and Proper NamesIndex to the Variants and AnaloguesIndex to the Notes of W. A. Clouston and W. F. KirbyAlphabetical Table of Notes (Anthropological, &c.)Additional Notes on the Bibliography of the Thousand and OneNights, by W. F. KirbyThe Biography of the Book and Its Reviewers ReviewedOpinions of the Press
The Translator's Foreword.
This volume has been entitled "THE NEW ARABIAN 1 NIGHTS," a namenow hackneyed because applied to its contents as far back as 1819in Henry Weber's "Tales of the East" (Edinburgh, Ballantyne).
The original MS. was brought to France by Al-Káhin DiyánisiásSháwísh, a Syrian priest of the Congregation of St. Basil, whosename has been Frenchified to Dom Dennis (or Denys) Chavis. He wasa student at the European College of Al-Kadís Ithanásiús (St.Athanasius) in Rúmiyah the Grand (Constantinople) and wassummoned by the Minister of State, Baron de Breteuil, to Paris,where he presently became "Teacher of the Arabic Tongue at the
Y HAS A GOOD WORD FOR SOME SPARROWS The Song, White-throated and Fox Sparrows.
IV CHIPPY, SWEETVOICE AND DOTTY The Chipping, Vesper and Tree Sparrows.
V PETER LEARNS SOMETHING HE HADN'T GUESSED The Bluebird and the Robin.
VI AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW HOME The Phoebe and the Least Flycatcher.
VII THE WATCHMAN OF THE OLD ORCHARD The Kingbird and the Great Crested Flycatcher.
VIII OLD CLOTHES AND OLD HOUSES The Wood Peewee and Some Nesting Places.
IX LONGBILL AND TEETER The Woodcock and the Spotted Sandpiper.
X REDWING AND YELLOW WING The Red-winged Blackbird and the Golden-winged Flicker.
XI DRUMMERS AND CARPENTERS The Downy, Hairy and Red-headed Woodpeckers.
XII SOME UNLIKE RELATIVES The Cowbird and the Baltimore Oriole.
XIII MORE OF THE BLACKBIRD FAMILY The Orchard Oriole and the Bobolink.
XIV BOB WHITE AND CAROL THE MEADOW LARK The So-called Quail and the Meadow Lark.
XV A SWALLOW AND ONE WHO ISN'T The Tree Swallow and the Chimn
rn sounded, and the mail-coach drew up at thedoor of the George and Dragon to set down a passenger and his luggage.
Dick Turnbull rose and went out to the hall with careful bustle, andDoctor Torvey followed as far as the door, which commanded a view of it,and saw several trunks cased in canvas pitched into the hall, and bycareful Tom and a boy lifted one on top of the other, behind the cornerof the banister. It would have been below the dignity of his cloth to goout and read the labels on these, or the Doctor would have doneotherwise, so great was his curiosity.
CHAPTER III
Philip Feltram
The new guest was now in the hall of the George, and Doctor Torvey couldhear him talking with Mr. Turnbull. Being himself one of the dignitariesof Golden Friars, the Doctor, having regard to first impressions, didnot care to be seen in his post of observation; and closing the doorgently, returned to his chair by the fire, and in an under-tone informedhis cronie
new trail had not been noticed. It ran deep and well marked through the heavy brush of a gully to a place where the brush commenced to thin, and there it branched into a dozen dim trails that joined and blended with the old, well worn cattle paths of the hillside.
"Somebody's might foxy," observed the man; "but I don't see what it's all about. The days of cattle runners and bandits are over."
"Just imagine!" exclaimed the girl. "A real mystery in our lazy, old hills!"
The man rode in silence and in thought. A herd of pure-bred Herefords, whose value would have ransomed half the crowned heads remaining in Europe, grazed in the several pastures that ran far back into those hills; and back there somewhere that trail led, but for what purpose? No good purpose, he was sure, or it had not been so cleverly hidden.
As they came to the trail which they called the Camino Corto, where it commenced at the gate leading from the old goat corral, the man jerked his thumb toward the west along it
hors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part. The copyright system was created expressly for the purpose of encouraging authorship. In the domain for which it was invented--books, which could be copied economically only on a printing press--it did little harm, and did not obstruct most of the individuals who read the books.
All intellectual property rights are just licenses granted by society because it was thought, rightly or wrongly, that society as a whole would benefit by granting them. But in any particular situation, we have to ask: are we really better off granting such license? What kind of act are we licensing a person to do?
The case of programs today is very different from that of books a hundred years ago. The fact that the easiest way to copy a program is from one neighbor to another, the fact that a program has both source code and object code which are distinct, and the fact that a program is used ra
ee, Inshallah!" The old woman pondered for a full hour with brow earthwards bent; after which she raised her head and said to him, "O thou beautiful youth, wilt thou indeed keep compact and covenant?" He replied, "Yes, by Him who raised the heavens and dispread the earth upon the waters, I will indeed keep faith and troth!" Thereupon quoth she, "I will win for thee thy wish, Inshallah! but for the present go thou into the garden and take thy pleasure therein and eat of its fruits, that have neither like in the world nor equal, whilst I send for my son Shahyal and confabulate with him of the matter. Nothing but good shall come of it, so Allah please, for he will not gainsay me nor disobey my commandment and I will marry thee with his daughter Badi'a al-Jamal. So be of good heart for she shall assuredly be thy wife, O Sayf al-Muluk." The Prince thanked her for those words and kissing her hands and feet, went forth from her into the garden; whilst she turned to Marjanah and said to her, "Go seek my son Shahyal w
ll the knowledge of good and evil that God had perhaps given her, but that no one had ever thought of developing. I shall always remember her, as she passed along the boulevards almost every day at the same hour, accompanied by her mother as assiduously as a real mother might have accompanied her daughter. I was very young then, and ready to accept for myself the easy morality of the age. I remember, however, the contempt and disgust which awoke in me at the sight of this scandalous chaperoning. Her face, too, was inexpressibly virginal in its expression of innocence and of melancholy suffering. She was like a figure of Resignation.
One day the girl's face was transfigured. In the midst of all the debauches mapped out by her mother, it seemed to her as if God had left over for her one happiness. And why indeed should God, who had made her without strength, have left her without consolation, under the sorrowful burden of her life? One day, then, she realized that she was to have a child, and all that re
looking as though it had been but just torn off. One side of the paper was entirely blank -- or at least, if there ever had been any writing upon it, it had disappeared through the influence of time and damp; on the other were some blurred and indistinct characters, so faded as to be scarcely distinguishable, and, in a bold hand-writing in fresh black ink the two letters "Ra".
Since the ink with which these letters were written corresponded exactly with that which I was in the habit of using, I could hardly doubt that they had been written at my table, and were the commencement of some explanation that the spectre had wished, but for some reason found himself unable, to make. Why he should have taken the trouble to bring his own paper with him I could not understand, but I inferred that probably some mystery was hidden beneath those undecipherable yellow marks, so I turned all my attention to them. After patient and long-continued effort, however, I was unable to make anything like sense out of them,
ig chief," went on Jones, "me go far north--Land of LittleSticks--Naza! Naza! rope musk-ox; rope White Manitou of GreatSlave Naza! Naza!"
"Naza!" replied the Navajo, pointing to the North Star; "no--no."
"Yes me big paleface--me come long way toward setting sun--gocross Big Water--go Buckskin--Siwash--chase cougar."
The cougar, or mountain lion, is a Navajo god and the Navajoshold him in as much fear and reverence as do the Great SlaveIndians the musk-ox.
"No kill cougar," continued Jones, as the Indian's bold featureshardened. "Run cougar horseback--run long way--dogs chase cougarlong time--chase cougar up tree! Me big chief--me climbtree--climb high up--lasso cougar--rope cougar--tie cougar alltight."
The Navajo's solemn face relaxed
"White man heap fun. No."
"Yes," cried Jones, extending his great arms. "Me strong; me ropecougar--me tie cougar; ride off wigwam, keep cougar alive."
"No," replied the savage vehemently.
"Yes," protested Jones, nodding earnestly.
"No," a
ied; in which the narrator of the tale finds himself unexpectedly involved both on its ruthless and its delicate side.
"Falk" shares with one other of my stories ("The Return" in the "Tales of Unrest" volume) the distinction of never having been serialized. I think the copy was shown to the editor of some magazine who rejected it indignantly on the sole ground that "the girl never says anything." This is perfectly true. From first to last Hermann's niece utters no word in the tale -- and it is not because she is dumb, but for the simple reason that whenever she happens to come under the observation of the narrator she has either no occasion or is too profoundly moved to speak. The editor, who obviously had read the story, might have perceived that for himself. Apparently he did not, and I refrained from pointing out the impossibility to him because, since he did not venture to say that "the girl" did not live, I felt no concern at his indignation.
All the other stories were serialized. The "Typh
Tales and Proper NamesIndex to the Variants and AnaloguesIndex to the Notes of W. A. Clouston and W. F. KirbyAlphabetical Table of Notes (Anthropological, &c.)Additional Notes on the Bibliography of the Thousand and OneNights, by W. F. KirbyThe Biography of the Book and Its Reviewers ReviewedOpinions of the Press
The Translator's Foreword.
This volume has been entitled "THE NEW ARABIAN 1 NIGHTS," a namenow hackneyed because applied to its contents as far back as 1819in Henry Weber's "Tales of the East" (Edinburgh, Ballantyne).
The original MS. was brought to France by Al-Káhin DiyánisiásSháwísh, a Syrian priest of the Congregation of St. Basil, whosename has been Frenchified to Dom Dennis (or Denys) Chavis. He wasa student at the European College of Al-Kadís Ithanásiús (St.Athanasius) in Rúmiyah the Grand (Constantinople) and wassummoned by the Minister of State, Baron de Breteuil, to Paris,where he presently became "Teacher of the Arabic Tongue at the
Y HAS A GOOD WORD FOR SOME SPARROWS The Song, White-throated and Fox Sparrows.
IV CHIPPY, SWEETVOICE AND DOTTY The Chipping, Vesper and Tree Sparrows.
V PETER LEARNS SOMETHING HE HADN'T GUESSED The Bluebird and the Robin.
VI AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW HOME The Phoebe and the Least Flycatcher.
VII THE WATCHMAN OF THE OLD ORCHARD The Kingbird and the Great Crested Flycatcher.
VIII OLD CLOTHES AND OLD HOUSES The Wood Peewee and Some Nesting Places.
IX LONGBILL AND TEETER The Woodcock and the Spotted Sandpiper.
X REDWING AND YELLOW WING The Red-winged Blackbird and the Golden-winged Flicker.
XI DRUMMERS AND CARPENTERS The Downy, Hairy and Red-headed Woodpeckers.
XII SOME UNLIKE RELATIVES The Cowbird and the Baltimore Oriole.
XIII MORE OF THE BLACKBIRD FAMILY The Orchard Oriole and the Bobolink.
XIV BOB WHITE AND CAROL THE MEADOW LARK The So-called Quail and the Meadow Lark.
XV A SWALLOW AND ONE WHO ISN'T The Tree Swallow and the Chimn
rn sounded, and the mail-coach drew up at thedoor of the George and Dragon to set down a passenger and his luggage.
Dick Turnbull rose and went out to the hall with careful bustle, andDoctor Torvey followed as far as the door, which commanded a view of it,and saw several trunks cased in canvas pitched into the hall, and bycareful Tom and a boy lifted one on top of the other, behind the cornerof the banister. It would have been below the dignity of his cloth to goout and read the labels on these, or the Doctor would have doneotherwise, so great was his curiosity.
CHAPTER III
Philip Feltram
The new guest was now in the hall of the George, and Doctor Torvey couldhear him talking with Mr. Turnbull. Being himself one of the dignitariesof Golden Friars, the Doctor, having regard to first impressions, didnot care to be seen in his post of observation; and closing the doorgently, returned to his chair by the fire, and in an under-tone informedhis cronie
new trail had not been noticed. It ran deep and well marked through the heavy brush of a gully to a place where the brush commenced to thin, and there it branched into a dozen dim trails that joined and blended with the old, well worn cattle paths of the hillside.
"Somebody's might foxy," observed the man; "but I don't see what it's all about. The days of cattle runners and bandits are over."
"Just imagine!" exclaimed the girl. "A real mystery in our lazy, old hills!"
The man rode in silence and in thought. A herd of pure-bred Herefords, whose value would have ransomed half the crowned heads remaining in Europe, grazed in the several pastures that ran far back into those hills; and back there somewhere that trail led, but for what purpose? No good purpose, he was sure, or it had not been so cleverly hidden.
As they came to the trail which they called the Camino Corto, where it commenced at the gate leading from the old goat corral, the man jerked his thumb toward the west along it