The following edited passage is an
excerpt from Around the World in
Eighty Days by Jules Vernes
introducing Phileas Fogg.

Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No.
7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the
house in which Sheridan died in 1814.
He was one of the most noticeable
5 members of the Reform Club, though
he seemed always to avoid attracting
attention; an enigmatical personage,
about whom little was known, except
that he was a polished man of the world.
10 People said that he resembled Byron—
at least that his head was Byronic.

Certainly an Englishman, it was more
doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a
Londoner. He was never seen on
15 ’Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the
counting-rooms of the “City”; no ships
ever came into London docks of which
he was the owner; he had no public
employment; he had never been entered
20 at any of the Inns of Court, either at the
Temple, or Lincoln’s Inn, or Gray’s Inn;
nor had his voice ever resounded in the
Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer,
or the Queen’s Bench, or the
25 Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was
not a manufacturer; nor was he a
merchant or a gentleman farmer. His
name was strange to the scientific and
learned societies, and he never was
30 known to take part in the sage
deliberations of the Royal Institution or
the London Institution, the Artisan’s
Association, or the Institution of Arts
and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to
35 none of the numerous societies which
swarm in the English capital, from the
Harmonic to that of the Entomologists.

Phileas Fogg was a member of the
Reform, and that was all.

40 The way in which he got admission to
this exclusive club was simple enough.

He was recommended by the Barings,
with whom he had an open credit. His
cheques were regularly paid at sight
45 from his account current, which was
always flush.

Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly.
But those who knew him best could not
imagine how he had made his fortune,
50 and Mr. Fogg was the last person to
whom to apply for the information.
Whenever he knew that money was
needed for a noble, useful, or
benevolent purpose, he supplied it
55 quietly and sometimes anonymously. He
was, in short, the least communicative
of men. He talked very little, and
seemed all the more mysterious for his
taciturn manner. His daily habits were
60 quite open to observation; but whatever
he did was so exactly the same thing
that he had always done before, that the
wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.

Had he travelled? It was likely, for no
65 one seemed to know the world more
familiarly; there was no spot so
secluded that he did not appear to have
an intimate acquaintance with it. He
often corrected, with a few clear words,
70 the thousand conjectures advanced by
members of the club as to lost and
unheard-of travellers, pointing out the
true probabilities, and seeming as if
gifted with a sort of second sight, so
75 often did events justify his predictions.
He must have travelled everywhere, at
least in the spirit.

It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg
had not absented himself from London
80 for many years. Those who were
honoured by a better acquaintance with
him than the rest, declared that nobody
could pretend to have ever seen him
anywhere else. His sole pastimes were
85 reading the papers and playing whist.
Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the
sake of playing. The game was in his
eyes a contest, a struggle with a

difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying
90 struggle, congenial to his tastes.

Phileas Fogg was not known to have e
ither wife or children, which may
happen to the most honest people; either
relatives or near friends, which is
95 certainly more unusual. He lived alone
in his house in Saville Row, whither
none penetrated. A single domestic
sufficed to serve him. He breakfasted
and dined at the club, at hours
100 mathematically fixed, in the same room,
at the same table, never taking his meals
with other members, much less bringing
a guest with him; and went home at
exactly midnight, only to retire at once
105 to bed. He never used the cosy
chambers which the Reform provides
for its favoured members. He passed ten
hours out of the twenty-four in Saville
Row, either in sleeping or making his
110 toilet. When he chose to take a walk it
was with a regular step in the entrance
hall with its mosaic flooring, or in the
circular gallery with its dome supported
by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns,
115 and illumined by blue painted windows.
When he breakfasted or dined all the
resources of the club—its kitchens and
pantries, its buttery and dairy—aided to
crowd his table with their most
120 succulent stores; he was served by the
gravest waiters, in dress coats, and
shoes with swan-skin soles, who
proffered the viands in special
porcelain, and on the finest linen.

The following passage is taken from The
Leardo Map of the World, 1452 or 1453
by John Kirtland Wright on the calendar
and the inscription behind it. 

The calendars encircling Leardo’s three
maps constitute exceptional additions.Of
these calendars, the one on the Society’s
map is the most interesting. The
5 inscription in the panel below the circles,
in part an explanation of the calendar, is
somewhat awkwardly phrased in the
Venetian dialect of the fifteenth century,
but, although it lacks the beginning of
10 each line, the meaning is fairly clear,
especially when certain of the missing
lines are reconstructed from the
corresponding inscription on the map in
Vicenza.

15 In the first two lines the cartographer
makes an excursion into the realm of
theology.

This passage is followed by a statement
that the map shows how the land and
20 islands stand in relation to the seas and
how the many provinces and mountains
and principal rivers are distributed on the
land. Then, on the asserted authority of
Macrobius, “a very excellent astrologer
25 and geometrician,” figures are given for
the dimensions of the earth and of various
heavenly bodies. These are quite fanciful,
bearing little relation to the corresponding
figures actually cited by Macrobius.

30 The astronomical details are followed in
the third paragraph by the explanation of
the calendar. The latter consists of eight
concentric circles, of which the innermost
gives the dates of a religious holiday for
35 ninety-five years, from April 1, 1453, to
April 10, 1547; when this holiday falls in
April, A is written in the small
compartment, when in March, M; leap
years are designated by B (“bissextile
40 years”).

The second circle shows the names of the
months, beginning with March, which

was officially reckoned the first month of
the year in the Republic of Venice until
45 as late as 1797; it also tells the day, hour,
and minute when the sun enters each of
the twelve signs of the zodiac.

The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth circles
enable one to calculate the phases of the
50 moon. In the third circle the first nineteen
letters of the alphabet represent in order
the years of the Metonic lunisolar cycle.
These years were usually designated by
the golden numbers, but before the
55 Gregorian reform letters were frequently
employed in place of the numbers.
Leardo explains that C stands for 1453, D
for 1454, and so on until T is reached,
after which we begin over again at A. A
60 letter is placed opposite the figures (in the
fourth, fifth, and sixth 4 circles) showing
respectively the day of the month, the
hour of the day, and the “point of the
hour” at which the “conjunction of the
65 moon” (i.e. new moon) will take place in
the years to which the letter refers. For
example, there will be a new moon on
April 8, 1453, at 16 hours, 200 points.
Leardo adds that there are 1080 points in
70 an hour.

The seventh circle gives the dominical, or
“Sunday,” letters; these are indicated
opposite the days of the month (fourth
circle) on which Sunday falls in the years
75 designated by the seven first letters of the
alphabet. If we know the dominical letter
for any particular year, we may thus
determine the days of the week.
Leardo, however, does not specify the
80 years to which the dominical letters in his
calendar refer.

The eighth and ninth circles give the
lengths of the days in hours and minutes.
From this we see that the vernal equinox
85 fell on March 11, inasmuch as the
calendar was constructed before the
Gregorian reform. Finally, in the tenth
circle religious festivals are shown.

The first passage is from Special Reports
on Diseases of the Horse by A. A.
Holcombe faults on conformation. The
second edited passage is taken from
Diseases of the Horse’s Foot by H.
Caulton Reeks on a disease in the horse’s
foot.

Passage 1

A large percentage of horses have feet
which are not perfect in conformation,
and as a consequence they are especially
predisposed to certain injuries and
5 diseases.

Flatfoot is that condition in which the
sole has little or no convexity. It is a
peculiarity common to some breeds,
especially heavy, lymphatic animals
10 raised on low, marshy soils. It is confined
to the fore feet, which are generally
broad, low-heeled, and with a wall less
upright than is seen in the perfect foot.

In flatfoot there can be little or no
15 elasticity in the sole, for the reason that it
has no arch, and the weight of the animal
is received on the entire plantar surface,
as it rests upon the ground instead of on
the wall. For these reasons such feet are
20 particularly liable to bruises of the sole,
corns, pumiced sole, and excessive
suppuration when the process is once
established. Horses with flatfoot should
be shod with a shoe having a wide web,
25 pressing on the wall only, while the heels
and frog are never to be pared. Flatfoot
generally has weak walls, and as a
consequence the nails of the shoe are
readily loosened and the shoe cast.

30 Clubfoot is a term applied to such feet as
have the walls set nearly perpendicular.
When this condition is present the heels
are high, the fetlock joint is thrown
forward, or knuckles, and the weight of
35 the animal is received on the toes. Many
mules are clubfooted, especially behind,
where it seems to cause little or no
inconvenience. Severe cases of clubfoot

may be cured by cutting the tendons, but
40 as a rule special shoeing is the only
measure of relief that can be adopted. The
toe should not be pared, but the heels are
to be lowered as much as possible and a
shoe put on with a long, projecting toe
45 piece, slightly turned up, while the heels
of the shoe are to be made thin.

Crookedfoot is that condition in which
one side of the wall is higher than the
other. If the inside wall is the higher, the
50 ankle is thrown outward, so that the
fetlock joints are abnormally wide apart
and the toes close together. Animals with
this deformity are “pigeon-toed,” and are
prone to interfere, the inside toe striking
55 the opposite fetlock. If but one foot is
affected, the liability to interfere is still
greater, for the reason that the fetlock of
the perfect leg is nearer the center plane.

When the outside heel is higher the ankle
60 is thrown in and the toe turns out. Horses
with such feet interfere with the heel. If
but one foot is so affected, the liability to
interfere is less than when both feet are
affected, for the reason that the ankle of
65 the perfect leg is not so near to the center
plane. Such animals are especially liable
to stumbling and to lameness from injury
to the ligaments of the fetlock joints. This
deformity is to be overcome by such
70 shoeing as will equalize the disparity in
length of walls, and by proper boots to
protect the fetlocks from interfering.

Passage 2

Definition. In veterinary surgery the term
‘corn’ is used to indicate the changes
75 following upon a bruise to that portion of
the sensitive sole between the wall and
the bar. Usually they occur in the fore-
feet, and are there found more often in the
inner than in the outer heel.

80 The changes are those depending upon
the amount of hemorrhage and the
accompanying inflammatory phenomena
occasioned by the injury.

Thus, with the hemorrhage we get
85 ecchymosis, and consequent red staining
of the surrounding structures. As is the
case with extravasations of blood
elsewhere, the hemoglobin of the escaped
corpuscles later undergoes a series of
90 changes, giving rise to a succession of
brown, blue, greenish and yellowish
coloration.

With the inflammation thereby set up we
get swelling of the surrounding blood
95 vessels, pain from the compression of the
swollen structures within the non-
yielding hoof, and moistness as a result of
the inflammatory exudate. In a severe
case the inflammation is complicated by
100 the presence of pus.

Classification. Putting on one side the
classification of Lafosse (natural and
accidental), as perhaps wanting in
correctness, seeing that all are accidental,
105 and disregarding the suggested divisions
of Zundel (corn of the sole and corn of
the wall) as serving no practical use, we
believe, with Girard, that it is better to
classify corns according to the changes
110 just described. Following his system, we
shall recognise three forms: (1) Dry, (2)
moist, (3) suppurating.

The dry corn is one in which the injury
has fortunately been unattended with
115 excessive inflammatory changes, and
where nothing but the coloration imparted
to the horn by the extravasated blood
remains to indicate what has happened.

The moist corn is that in which a great
120 amount of inflammatory exudate is the
most prominent symptom. It indicates an
injury of comparatively recent infliction.

The suppurating corn, as the name
indicates, is a corn in which the
125 inflammatory changes are complicated by
the presence of pus.

The following edited passage is taken
from Sign Language among North
American Indians by Garrick Mallery on
the origins of sign language.

In observing the maxim that nothing can
be thoroughly understood unless its
beginning is known, it becomes necessary
to examine into the origin of sign
5 language through its connection with that
of oral speech. In this examination it is
essential to be free from the vague
popular impression that some oral
language, of the general character of that
10 now used among mankind, is “natural” to
mankind. It will be admitted on reflection
that all oral languages were at some past
time far less serviceable to those using
them than they are now, and as each
15 particular language has been thoroughly
studied it has become evident that it grew
out of some other and less advanced
form. In the investigation of these old
forms it has been so difficult to ascertain
20 how any of them first became a useful
instrument of inter-communication that
many conflicting theories on this subject
have been advocated.

Oral language consists of variations and
25 mutations of vocal sounds produced as
signs of thought and emotion. But it is not
enough that those signs should be
available as the vehicle of the producer’s
own thoughts. They must be also efficient
30 for the communication of such thoughts
to others. It has been, until of late years,
generally held that thought was not
possible without oral language, and that,
as man was supposed to have possessed
35 from the first the power of thought, he
also from the first possessed and used
oral language substantially as at present.
That the latter, as a special faculty,
formed the main distinction between man
40 and the brutes has been and still is the
prevailing doctrine. In a lecture delivered
before the British Association in 1878 it
was declared that “animal intelligence is
unable to elaborate that class of abstract
45 ideas, the formation of which depends

upon the faculty of speech.” If instead of
“speech” the word “utterance” had been
used, as including all possible modes of
intelligent communication, the statement
50 might pass without criticism. But it may
be doubted if there is any more necessary
connection between abstract ideas and
sounds, the mere signs of thought, that
strike the ear, than there is between the
55 same ideas and signs addressed only to
the eye.

The point most debated for centuries has
been, not whether there was any primitive
oral language, but what that language
60 was. Some literalists have indeed argued
from the Mosaic narrative that because
the Creator, by one supernatural act, with
the express purpose to form separate
peoples, had divided all tongues into their
65 present varieties, and could, by another
similar exercise of power, obliterate all
but one which should be universal, the
fact that he had not exercised that power
showed it not to be his will that any man
70 to whom a particular speech had been
given should hold intercourse with
another miraculously set apart from him
by a different speech. By this reasoning,
if the study of a foreign tongue was not
75 impious, it was at least clear that the
primitive language had been taken away
as a disciplinary punishment, and that,
therefore, the search for it was as fruitless
as to attempt the passage of the flaming
80 sword. In accordance with the advance of
linguistic science they have successively
shifted back the postulated primitive
tongue to Sanskrit, then to Aryan, and
now seek to evoke from the vasty deeps
85 of antiquity the ghosts of other rival
claimants for precedence in dissolution.
As, however, the languages of man are
now recognized as extremely numerous,
and as the very sounds of which these
90 several languages are composed are so
different that the speakers of some are
unable to distinguish with the ear certain
sounds in others, still less able to
reproduce them, the search for one
95 common parent language is more difficult

than was supposed by medieval
ignorance.

The discussion is now, however, varied
by the suggested possibility that man at
100 some time may have existed without any
oral language. It is conceded by some
writers that mental images or
representations can be formed without
any connection with sound, and may at
105 least serve for thought, though not for
expression. It is certain that concepts,
however formed, can be expressed by
other means than sound. One mode of
this expression is by gesture, and there is
110 less reason to believe that gestures
commenced as the interpretation of, or
substitute for words than that the latter
originated in, and served to translate
gestures. Many arguments have been
115 advanced to prove that gesture language
preceded articulate speech and formed the
earliest attempt at communication,
resulting from the interacting subjective
and objective conditions to which
120 primitive man was exposed. Some of the
facts on which deductions have been
based, made in accordance with well-
established modes of scientific research
from study of the lower animals, children,
125 and deaf-mutes, will be briefly
mentioned.

The following edited passage is taken
from Fungi: Their Nature and Uses by
M. C. Cooke on the species, Agaricini. 

Without some knowledge of the
structure of fungi, it is scarcely possible
to comprehend the principles of
classification, or to appreciate the
5 curious phenomena of polymorphism.
Yet there is so great a variety in the
structure of the different groups, that
this subject cannot be compressed
within a few paragraphs, neither do we
10 think that this would be desired if
practicable, seeing that the anatomy and
physiology of plants is, in itself,
sufficiently important and interesting to
warrant a rather extended and explicit
15 survey. In order to impart as much
practical utility as possible to this
chapter, it seems advisable to treat some
of the most important and typical orders
and suborders separately, giving
20 prominence to the features which are
chiefly characteristic of those sections,
following the order of systematists as
much as possible, whilst endeavouring
to render each section independent to a
25 considerable extent, and complete in
itself. Some groups naturally present
more noteworthy features than others,
and will consequently seem to receive
more than their proportional share of
30 attention, but this seeming inequality
could scarcely have been avoided,
inasmuch as hitherto some groups have
been more closely investigated than
others, are more intimately associated
35 with other questions, or are more readily
and satisfactorily examined under
different aspects of their life-history.

For the structure that prevails in the
order to which the mushroom belongs,
40 an examination of the species Agaricini
will be almost sufficient. Here we shall
at once recognize three distinct parts
requiring elucidation, viz. the rooting
slender fibres that traverse the soil, and
45 termed the mycelium, or spawn, the
stem and cap or pileus, which together

constitute what is called the
hymenophore, and the plates or gills on
the under surface of the cap, which bear
50 the hymenium. The earliest condition in
which the mushroom can be recognized
as a vegetable entity is in that of the
“spawn” or mycelium, which is
essentially an agglomeration of
55 vegetating spores. Its normal form is
that of branched, slender, entangled,
anastomosing, hyaline threads. At
certain privileged points of the
mycelium, the threads seem to be
60 aggregated, and become centres of
vertical extension. At first only a small
nearly globose budding, like a grain of
mustard seed, is visible, but this
afterwards increases rapidly, and other
65 similar buddings or swellings appear at
the base. These are the young
hymenophore.

As it pushes through the soil, it
gradually loses its globose form,
70 becomes more or less elongated, and in
this condition a longitudinal section
shows the position of the future gills in
a pair of opposite crescent-shaped
darker-coloured spots near the apex.
75 The dermal membrane, or outer skin,
seems to be continuous over the stem
and the globose head. At present, there
is no external evidence of an expanded
pileus and gills; a longitudinal section at
80 this stage shows that the gills are being
developed, that the pileus is assuming
its cap-like form, that the membrane
stretching from the stem to the edge of
the young pileus is separating from the
85 edge of the gills, and forming a veil,
which, in course of time, will separate
below and leave the gills exposed.
When, therefore, the mushroom has
arrived almost at maturity, the pileus
90 expands, and in this act the veil is torn
away from the margin of the cap, and
remains for a time like a collar around
the stem. Fragments of the veil often
remain attached to the margin of the
95 pileus, and the collar adherent to the

stem falls back, and thenceforth is
known as the annulus or ring. We have
in this stage the fully-developed
hymenophore,—the stem with its ring,
100 supporting an expanded cap or pileus,
with gills on the under surface bearing
the hymenium.