BMTG Daily Dose

Formerly known as the Daily Dose, the Weekly Dose is home to weekly excerpts from a wide variety of important books. These excerpts are near and dear to the hearts of the BMTG membership. Submissions from BMTG members are welcome, as long as the guidelines are followed. Submissions that do not conform to the official guidelines will be rejected without the opportunity to appeal. Excerpts are best when read aloud with a dramatic flair.

2006
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Week of June 27, 2005

Aeroplanes and Dirigibles of War by Frederick A. Talbot

The airman engaged in strategical aerial reconnaissance must possess, above all things, what is known as a "military" eye concerning the country he traverses. He must form tolerably correct estimates of the forces beneath and their character. He must possess the ability to read a map rapidly as he moves through the air and to note upon it all information which is likely to be of service to the General Staff. The ability to prepare military sketches rapidly and intelligibly is a valuable attribute, and skill in aerial photography is a decidedly useful acquisition.

Captain Blood by Rafael Sabatini

        "Ha! Then it's adieu, my Captain." Venomously he added: "It is my belief that we shall not meet again."
        "Your belief is my hope," said Captain Blood.
        Cahusac flung away, obscenely vituperative. Before noon he was under way with his followers, some sixty dejected men who had allowed themselves to be persuaded by him into that empty-handed departure - in spite even of all that Yberville could do to prevent it. The Admiral kept faith with him, and allowed him free passage out to sea, which, from his knowledge of Spaniards, was more than Captain Blood had expected.

Week of June 20, 2005

It Happened in Egypt by C. N. Williamson & A. M. Williamson

Each of us stood with a wet pillow in his hand, gazing at his borrowed bunk. In the one I had selected, lay a small chamois-skin bag, attached to a narrow pink ribbon. In the bed chosen by Fenton, was a tiny white enamelled watch, on a platinum chain. Both these things had been covered by their respective owners' pillows, and forgotten in the hasty
change of quarters. The watch was Monny's. She wore it round her neck every day--therefore the chamois-skin bag on the other bed must be Brigit's. I told myself that in it she probably kept her pathetic store of money, hidden under her bodice by day, her pillow by night; and beholding this intimate souvenir of my childhood's friend, my heart
yearned over her.

The Planet Mars & Its Inhabitants by Eros Urides (A Martian)

Your planet is in slavery. You are slaves to your conventionalities. They are like shackles on your souls: like bands of iron. And yet you cling to them until it seems you do
not want freedom.
It is only Truth that will free you; and as long as you cling to false ideals and sham systems you must expect to be slaves.

Week of June 13, 2005

Dead Men Tell No Tales by E. W. Hornung

The evening was damp and thick. It melted into night as we drove. I could form no impression of the country, but this seemed desolate enough. I believe we met no living soul on the high road which we followed for the first three miles or more. At length we turned into a narrow lane, with a stiff stone wall on either hand, and this eventually led us past the lights of what appeared to be a large farm; it was really a small hamlet; and now we were nearing our destination. Gates had to be opened, and my poor driver breathed
hard from the continual getting down and up. In the end a long and heavy cart-track brought us to the loneliest light that I have ever seen. It shone on the side of a hill - in the heart of an open wilderness - as solitary as a beacon-light at sea. It was the light of the cottage which was to be my temporary home.
A very tall, gaunt woman stood in the doorway against the inner glow. She advanced with a loose, long stride, and invited me to enter in a voice harsh (I took it) from disuse. I was warming myself before the kitchen fire when she came in carrying my heaviest
box as though it had nothing in it. I ran to take it from her, for the box was full of books, but she shook her head, and was on the stairs with it before I could intercept her.

The Second William Penn - A true account of incidents that happened along the
old Santa Fe Trail by William H. Ryus

When Col. Leavenworth introduced Satanta to me he grinningly answered "Si; all my people know this driver, for we have drank coffee with him on the plains before this day." This was spoken in the Indian tongue and interpreted by Col. Leavenworth.
Satanta immediately ordered some of his young warriors to go out and herd our mules for the night--he told them to stake them where they could get plenty of grass and put sufficient guard to protect them. I told Satanta that we would want to start on our journey by daylight.

Week of June 6, 2005

Flappers and Philosophers by F. Scott Fitzgerald

"You see, I am fate," it shouted, "and stronger than your puny plans; and I am how-things-turn-out and I am different from your little dreams, and I am the flight of time and the end of beauty and unfulfilled desire; all the accidents and imperceptions and the little minutes that shape the crucial hours are mine. I am the exception that proves no rules, the limits of your control, the condiment in the dish of life."

The Rock of Chickamauga by Joseph A. Altsheler

A little later he heard a note, low, faint and musical. It was behind him, but he was sure at first that it was made by negroes singing. It was a pleasing sound. The negro had a great capacity for happiness, and Dick as a young lad had played with and liked the young colored lads of his age.
But as he walked on he heard the low, musical note once more and, as before, directly behind him. It seemed a little nearer. He paused and listened. It came again, always nearer and nearer, and now it did not seem as musical as before. There was a sinister thread in that flowing note, and suddenly Dick remembered.