"Euthanasia : or, Medical treatment in aid of an easy death by William Munk" is a medical treatise from the Victorian era. It synthesizes clinical observation, ethical reflection, and practical bedside guidance to show how physicians and nurses can ease the final hours of the dying. The book argues that the act of dying is usually neither agonizing nor fearful, and urges the medical profession to study and practice an “easy death” as part of its duty. Its likely topic is the phenomena, modes, and clinical management of dying, aimed at securing a calm, pain‑relieved, and dignified end. The book is organized into three parts: first, it examines common experiences near death—diminishing pain perception, patterns of delirium, the “lightening before death,” and the persistence of hearing—countering the myth of the “death struggle.” Next, it outlines the main modes of dying by failure of the heart (syncope or asthenia), lungs (asphyxia), or brain (coma or exhaustion), with the classic bedside signs such as the facies Hippocratica. Finally, it gives detailed, practical care: avoid force‑feeding; prefer milk, cream, eggs, and farinacea; use wine or brandy judiciously as stimulants; offer ice for thirst; stop fluids when swallowing fails. Opium (ideally as morphia) is the chief remedy for pain and the dreadful sinking at the chest, while ether, ammonia, and occasional turpentine help dyspnea and bronchial clogging; drugs should be few and purpose‑driven. Care of environment—fresh cool air, adequate light, quiet ordinary voices (no whispering), few attendants—plus posture and light coverings are emphasized, with specific measures for stertor, hiccup, and bladder distention. The closing guidance covers special scenarios (heart, lung, brain failure) and notes that in death from old age, gentle nursing usually suffices, as nature itself provides the perfect euthanasia. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

Kurimus : Runoja by Yrjö Jylhä is a collection of lyric poems written in the late 1920s. The book explores inner turmoil, eros and guilt, death and fate, and the tension between artistic ideals and everyday reality, using folk motifs, biblical and mythic figures, and flashes of modern urban life to probe moral conflict and longing. The poems unfold in four movements: from childhood visions and a “metamorphosis” into darker seas, to lullabies for a wayward heart, fatigue, exile, and the shattering of heroic dreams; then to sharp social satires of ideologies and literary cults; then to love lyrics and tales—tenderness edged with cruelty, saxophone-bright travel reveries, St. George saving a princess, a shared quest toward a “blue mountain,” dreams of spring, and visitations by Death; and finally to a confessional descent where jealousy and lust speak plainly. The last part gathers stark scenes of obsession and violence, pleas and prayers that mix blasphemy with yearning, a beast within that cannot be gentled, and images of neon-lit nights, damning letters, and sailors burned by the sun who never truly return. Together the sequence sketches a soul wrestling with desire and conscience, reaching for grace while circling a fatal whirlpool. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Oration on Voltaire by Victor Hugo and Julius Moritzen" is a collection of an oration and critical essays compiled in the early 20th century. It presents a translated ceremonial address alongside an introduction and interpretive pieces that frame Voltaire’s life and influence. The book is best described as a literary-historical tribute and critical study, focusing on Voltaire’s fight against religious intolerance and judicial cruelty, and on his lasting role in shaping modern ideas of justice, tolerance, and peace. The introduction hails progress as both evolution and revolt, praising Voltaire’s liberation of conscience and condemning priestly and political tyranny. The central oration, delivered at the centennial of Voltaire’s death, portrays him as an age-defining force who exposed infamous injustices like the Calas and La Barre cases, fought oppression with the pen, and joined compassion to reason, linking Gospel mercy with Enlightenment tolerance while denouncing war and calling for human concord. A biographical sketch then recounts his irreverent wit, the deathbed legends, and evidence that he died a steadfast skeptic, securing burial despite clerical resistance. The final section, drawing on Georg Brandes, places Voltaire in an international context: England’s free speech shaped his liberalism; high society and statesmen opened doors; his unique exchange with Frederick the Great enriched both ruler and writer; his histories of Charles XII and Peter the Great broadened his reach; and his correspondence with Russian rulers, including Catherine II, shows his pan-European influence. It closes with a striking allegory of humanity’s habit of persecuting its benefactors before erecting their statues. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Round the Horn before the mast" by Basil Lubbock is a maritime memoir written in the early 20th century. It follows a gentleman volunteer who ships before the mast on the four‑masted barque Royalshire to experience deep‑water life on a grain passage from San Francisco around Cape Horn toward Europe. The narrative dwells on the gritty work, seamanship, and shipboard culture of the great windjammers, painting vivid portraits of officers, crew, and ports. It promises realism, humor, and danger rather than romance. The opening of this narrative finds the narrator in San Francisco after the Klondike, choosing the Royalshire, signing on, and pairing up with fellow recruit Don Henderson. He outfits like a common seaman and plunges into hard labor: unloading Japanese coal, scouring stringers and bilges, chipping and painting, wrestling wire moorings, and enduring rough fare—relieved by cricket matches and the Seamen’s Institute. The ship shifts to Oakland Creek and Port Costa to line the holds and load barley, while a suspicious Swedish sailmaker appears, a classic South Sea whaler is spotted, and the crew bends sail aloft in a stiff wind. There are swims in the Sacramento, a sandy-shore breakfast on a boat errand, and a grim episode when an apprentice from another ship drowns and the Royalshire’s “nipper” is nearly lost. After finishing cargo and returning to the bay, a mixed crew drifts aboard, the narrator briefly serves as steward, and the harbor erupts in celebration for returning troops as the ship is dressed overall. Before dawn, the men man the capstan, a tug takes hold, the anchor breaks out, and the Royalshire heads to sea. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"A summer in Skye, Volume 2 (of 2)" by Alexander Smith is a travelogue written in the mid-19th century. It traces a reflective journey across the Isle of Skye, blending lyrical landscape description with portraits of island life, customs, and class relations among lairds, tacksmen, cotters, and fishermen. The narrator dwells on place, memory, and change, moving between scenic wonder and social observation. The opening of this volume immerses the reader in Skye’s antiquated atmosphere, then sketches the paternal, clanlike household of Mr M’Ian—a tacksman who keeps rent-free cotters, dispenses porch‑door justice, and binds the community through old obligations—before contrasting him with “the Landlord,” a wealthy, India-hardened reformer who manages tenants directly, runs a “penal” crofting scheme on reclaimed “black land,” and oversees a plain but purposeful school. A storm and flood frame the narrator’s departure, leading to a vivid, stage-by-stage journey—Isle Oronsay, Broadford, Sconser, Sligachan, Portree, Skeabost’s island graveyard—with a robust defense of the smoky Highland hut against urban misery. At the Landlord’s, we see affectionate chaos of pets, Gaelic deputations, village visits, levées at turf walls, and the schoolroom’s earnest geography and sums, all revealing a strict yet benevolent social experiment. The section closes with a drive toward Dunvegan via Orbost: legends at the Fairy Bridge, clan feuds (Trompon and Eigg), the sight of Macleod’s Tables and Maidens, an incongruously modern house set in a haunting coastal landscape, and ruins that echo the clan’s dwindling grandeur. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"A summer in Skye, Volume 1 (of 2)" by Alexander Smith is a travelogue and reflective essay collection written in the mid-19th century. It traces a summer journey from Edinburgh through the Highlands and western lochs to the Isle of Skye, blending vivid nature writing with history, art, and social observation. Readers can expect lyrical landscapes, portraits of towns and people, and opinionated meditations on Scottish identity and culture. The beginning of the book sets the narrator in heat-stricken Edinburgh, longing for escape and praising the restorative idleness of the Highlands while advocating light, simple travel. He sketches an expansive portrait of the city—its literature and critics, Scott’s outsized legacy, show-stopping beauty by day and night, the grandeur and squalor of the Old Town, intellectual pretensions (with barbed shots at Jeffrey), and the seasonal rhythms of art exhibitions and the General Assembly’s pageantry. The tone is essayistic and digressive, moving from civic pride and social satire to the spiritual spell of the past that saturates Edinburgh’s streets. The journey then unfolds: Stirling’s views and the Wallace Monument spark reflections on nationality; Doune and its castle; Callander, the Pass of Leny, Loch Achray, and the Trosachs to Loch Katrine; on to Inversneyd and Loch Lomond, the “Cobbler,” and the steep solitude of Glencroe; St Catherine’s and a humorous coachman; Inverary and Duniquoich; Loch Awe, Kilchurn Castle, and Ben Cruachan; and the bustle and rain of Oban. A swift run up the Caledonian route brings Fort William (with a visit to the famed distiller “Long John”), Loch Ness, and Inverness, capped by a sunset reverie on Culloden Moor. Finally, arrangements are made to reach Skye, and the section closes with a miserable pre-dawn coach ride to Dingwall. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Cro-knitting : The new art of worsted work : also crocheted lattice work" is an instructional craft manual written in the early 20th century. It introduces a hybrid method that combines knitting and crochet, alongside a distinctive crocheted lattice technique, and provides detailed, row-by-row directions. Projects range from garments and accessories to home linens, with an emphasis on specific threads, tools, and finishing methods. The opening of Cro-knitting : The new art of worsted work : also crocheted lattice work begins with recommended materials (mercerized cottons, macramé cord, silk-like threads, and metal yarns), followed by a foreword presenting Cro-Knitting as alternating knitted and crocheted rows using a crochet hook and matching needles. It carefully explains tools (including a knobbed crochet hook and lattice pins), handling of knitted versus crocheted rows, and core stitches (single, double, treble) plus signature patterns like Automobile and Cluster stitches and the lattice method. From there it launches directly into step-by-step patterns—jackets, scarves, bags, afghans, socks, and baby sets—each with precise cast-ons, increases/decreases, stitch sequences, borders, and trims (fringe, picots, frogs, embroidery), consistently advising use of the specified Bear Brand materials to achieve the illustrated results. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"The fair Mississippian" by Charles Egbert Craddock is a novel written in the early 20th century. Set on an isolated Mississippi River plantation, it follows Edward Desmond, a brilliant but newly impoverished scholar who becomes tutor to the wealthy widow Honoria Faurie’s three sons. The story promises class friction, wounded pride, and a possible attraction between tutor and mistress, threaded through with a local “haunting” and the social theatrics of neighboring planters. The opening of the novel shows Desmond’s fall from promise after his father’s death and his reluctant arrival at Great Oaks, where Mr. Stanlett’s tactless chatter about Honoria’s fortune (tied to widowhood) and a parrot’s mocking song sharpen Desmond’s sense of humiliation. He meets the unexpectedly young and commanding Honoria, then lies awake to hear furtive footsteps on the stairs; Reginald explains the household’s ghostly legend. At breakfast Honoria’s birthday and Chub’s earnest “trading‑boat” gift reveal the family’s dynamics. Desmond asserts discipline, vetoing a holiday, choosing the library as a schoolroom, and quelling globe‑spinning and sulks; he spars with Reginald over the value of Greek and begins to win a measure of order while spending his nights reading and writing in solitude. As winter wears on, neighbors Colonel and Mrs. Kentopp arrive; Desmond even resists being summoned mid‑lessons, signaling the boundaries he intends to keep. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Heart of New England by Abbie Farwell Brown" is a collection of lyric and narrative poetry written in the early 20th century. The book dwells on New England’s landscape and legacy, the Pilgrim and colonial past, homely gardens and family memory, folklore and ghostly legend, and a rising strain of civic and wartime patriotism. Its likely topic is the spirit of New England—its nature, history, and ideals—cast as a living inheritance for modern America. The collection moves from salt-tinged coastal love songs and Pilgrim recollections to Hampton legends of pirates and haunted houses; from intimate scenes of grandmothers’ gardens, walls, paths, and birds to meditations on books, city smoke, and conscience. Nature pieces—pines, frost, tanager, mushrooms—mix with whimsical fairy lore, while character sketches and playful verses sit beside elegies and tributes. A central wartime suite turns resolute and compassionate, honoring sailors, soldiers, nurses, and the home front, and weighing “peace with a sword.” The book culminates in a dramatic ode to the Pilgrims that stages voyage, struggle, and achievement through choruses and psalm-like voices, binding local memory to a national calling of liberty, unity, and praise. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Bari, chien-loup" by James Oliver Curwood is a wilderness adventure novel written in the early 20th century. It follows Bari, a wolf-dog born to the blind she-wolf Louve-Grise and the dog Kazan, as he grows into the northern wilds, pulled between his wolf instincts and his dog nature. Encounters with predators, prey, storms, and humans shape a survival tale about identity, trust, and the thin line between the wild and the tame. The opening of the novel traces Bari from birth in a fallen tree, through his first sunlight and moonlit nights, to early lessons in killing when Kazan brings a rabbit. A reckless tussle with a young owl sends him tumbling into a river; lost and terrified, he endures a thunderstorm, witnesses bear and moose at close range, and nearly starves crossing a burned forest before stealing a freshly killed grouse from an ermine. Regaining strength by catching young rabbits, he wanders into a trapline where the Métis trapper Pierre and his daughter Nepeese appear; Nepeese wounds him with a shot, but he hides and escapes. Nursed by anger and instinct, he later battles an old great owl and wins, gaining confidence as he limps on into the northern night, still a solitary wanderer. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"A broken blossom, vol. 3 of 3" by Florence Marryat is a novel written in the late 19th century. Told in the first person by Hilda Marsh, it blends romance, social tension, and questions of trust and independence as she navigates life with her indebted guardian in the French town of St. Pucelle. Key figures include the proud yet penitent Baron de Nesselrode, the volatile Cave Charteris, steadfast Tessie, impulsive Ange, and Hilda’s loyal friend Charlie Sandilands. The opening of the novel follows Hilda as she firmly redefines her relationship with Charlie, seeks his pragmatic counsel on her mismanaged trust, and writes to Mr. Warrington to regain control of her income. She collides with household discontent—overhearing the cook’s scorn and learning from Charteris that Mr. Lovett is deeply in debt and has even borrowed in Hilda’s name—while parrying Charteris’s attempt to rekindle past sentiment. A tense evening walk leads to a fright with a wolfish sheep-dog and a rescue by Baron de Nesselrode, who then confides his fall from wealth through grief, gambling, and betrayal, revealing years of enforced austerity ahead; Hilda responds with compassion and practical hope. As they return, they encounter Ange walking with Charteris, and the section closes with a “black cloud” settling over the house—Lovett’s froideur, Tessie’s avoidance, and Charteris’s sulks—hinting at mounting strain and entanglements to come. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"A broken blossom, vol. 2 of 3" by Florence Marryat is a novel written in the late 19th century. Set in and around the small town of St. Pucelle, it follows Hilda Marsh, her guardian Mr. Lovett, his daughters Tessie and Ange, and the impoverished Baron de Nesselrode as domestic kindness, hidden vices, and romantic entanglements intersect. The return of Hilda’s former admirer, Cave Charteris, stirs old feelings and new tensions amid talk of gambling, social standing, and hope for better fortunes. The opening of this volume finds Hilda visiting the Baron’s decayed château, where a broken Venetian glass, a tame wolf, and a dusty chapel with an organ reveal both faded grandeur and fragile pride. Hilda later secretly witnesses the Baron and Mr. Lovett gambling, receives a delicate Venetian vase from the Baron, and hears town gossip linking the flirtatious Miss Markham to a young spendthrift, Arthur Thrale. As Ange’s birthday approaches, Hilda secures silver earrings for her, while the household prepares for a mysterious “change” that proves to be the arrival of a paying guest—Cave Charteris—whose sudden appearance unsettles Hilda. A strained but civil dinner, plans for forest hunting with the Baron, and Hilda’s private resurgence of grief for her mother close this opening movement. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

Malle Gevallen: Een kluchtig verhaal by Hans Martin is a humorous novel written in the early 20th century. It follows a spirited trio—the unnamed narrator, Boy, and Bram—through boozy student pranks, flirtations, and rambles from The Hague to Leiden and Scheveningen. With a breezy, wisecracking voice, it lampoons pompous types, charts Boy’s tender pull toward Kitty, and revels in slapstick mishaps on land and sea. The opening of the story frames everything as a playful fiction told in the first person, then briskly reveals outcomes (who marries whom) before rewinding to how the friends met. We see Boy’s cheeky schoolroom rebellion, a headlong dash to the director, and an escalating run of antics that brings Bram literally tumbling into their lives on the dunes, a chaotic bar scene with the perpetually soused Dirk, and a comic train episode where an officious passenger is outwitted. A long, anarchic night in Leiden follows: borrowing trousers for Dirk, wrecking rooms with eggs and butter, a collapsed lamp and gas scare, a stolen trough of dough, and Boy’s plunge into the Rapenburg, capped by a wary dawn and a failed attempt to get Dirk to a wedding. The pace then softens into club life at the Mafkolder—teas, teasing, and rivalry with a bragging “katjang”—as Kitty quietly checks on Boy’s character, and the pair finally confess mutual affection. The section closes as the friends travel to Enkhuizen to fetch Bram’s refitted boat, scrape its foul cabin clean, and push off at dusk into a mist-threatened Zuiderzee, with the narrator at the helm and the first chill of night setting in. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Islam saharien : chez ceux qui guettent (journal d''un témoin)" by Jean Pommerol is a nonfiction travel journal and ethnographic account written in the early 20th century. It explores Saharan Islam—especially the Sufi confraternities (zaouïas) and their political, social, and spiritual reach—through a composite but observed narrative of a traveler taken in by a powerful order. Guided by a dubious escort and nursed by the taleb Si-Kaddour, the narrator encounters the rituals, discipline, and discreet authority of the Djazerti. The result is both first-hand reportage and a warning about the mobilizing force of religious networks across North and Central Africa. The opening of the book sets out an “Avertissement” asserting the factual basis of the narrative while admitting that names like Mozafrane and the Djazerti are composites, then argues that French conquest unintentionally catalyzed the dramatic growth and politicization of Sufi orders. It sketches the evolution from early soufi asceticism to wealthy, far-reaching confraternities funded by alms, linked by zaouïas, and capable of coordinated action—illustrated by a brief account of the Margueritte uprising. The narrative then shifts to a desert journey: the narrator breaks his leg, follows the distant call to prayer, and, despite fears of hostility to “Roumis,” is solemnly received into a grand zaouïa and placed under the care of Si-Kaddour and the servants. Convalescing, he experiences lavish hospitality, the silent daily visits of the white-robed saints, and intimate lessons where the taleb cites the Koran, tells the parable of the Three Barques, and outlines the strict rules for initiation and the binding obedience required of “Khouan.” These scenes prompt reflections on how small renunciations, ritual, and organization give the orders immense influence. The section closes with the narrator still confined to his room, observing and recording rather than roaming, aware he has yet to see the flow of pilgrims the place attracts. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"L''art de lire" by Émile Faguet is a literary essay and practical guide to reading written in the early 20th century. It sets out how to read not as a critic on duty but as a cultivated reader seeking the fullest pleasure and understanding. Faguet argues for slow, attentive reading and tailored methods for different kinds of works—philosophical, sentimental, and dramatic—so that readers think better, feel more truly, and see more clearly. The opening of the book contrasts reading to learn or to judge with reading for enjoyment, and declares the author’s aim: to teach the art of pleasurable, intelligent reading. First comes a cardinal rule—always read slowly, distrust first impressions, avoid skimming—because slowness both deepens comprehension and immediately separates worthwhile books from the rest. For books of ideas, he recommends a continual back-and-forth comparison within the text to uncover an author’s governing notions, their growth and contradictions, illustrating with Plato, Montesquieu, Descartes, and La Rochefoucauld; he frames this as a courteous intellectual fencing match that sharpens the reader’s mind without dogmatism. For books of sentiment, he urges initial surrender to emotion, then a second phase of judgment grounded in real-life observation and self-analysis, with cautions about “exceptional” cases and a brisk portrait gallery of reader types (narrative-chasers, realists, idealists, poetry devotees, seekers of the exceptional, and classicists). Turning to drama, he defends reading plays as an appeal from the theater, and advises reading them as if staged—seeing entrances, groupings, and gestures—especially in Greek tragedy; a detailed example unpacks the physical action embedded in Racine’s Phèdre before the discussion moves toward Athalie. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Minor Tactics of the Chalk Stream and Kindred Studies" by G. E. M. Skues is a fly fishing book published in 1910. While acknowledging F. M. Halford's dry-fly dominance, Skues quietly launches a revolution to restore wet-fly fishing to England's chalk streams. Through careful observation and experimentation, he challenges the rigid orthodoxy that had banished this ancient technique, developing methods for fishing beneath the surface that would prove as difficult and delicate as any purist could demand. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Perte et gain : histoire d'un converti" by John Henry Newman is a philosophical novel published in 1848. Set in Oxford during the 1820s, it follows young Charles Reding as he navigates intense religious debates within the Church of England. Despite his intention to follow tradition and avoid controversial factions, Charles finds himself drawn toward Roman Catholicism. His intellectual journey leads to a conversion that brings personal fulfillment but devastating consequences for his relationships with family and friends who cannot understand his choice. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

The future of an illusion by Sigmund Freud is a psychoanalytic treatise written in the early 20th century. It examines religion as a collective illusion born from human wishes and childhood helplessness, and considers how civilization might sustain social order without sacred authority. Blending psychology, cultural critique, and philosophy, it argues for replacing religious foundations with rational, scientific understanding. The opening of the treatise defines culture as both the human conquest of nature and the regulation of social relations, stressing that it rests on labor, coercion, and instinctual renunciation that provoke resistance. It then turns to the “psychical” supports of culture—prohibitions and privations, their partial internalization as the super-ego, class grievances, the narcotic pride of cultural ideals, and the compensations of art—culminating in religion as the most powerful device. Religion is presented as a projection of infantile helplessness and father-longing that humanizes nature, promises justice and an afterlife, and asserts authority without proof; these doctrines are labeled “illusions” grounded in wish-fulfilment rather than evidence. Anticipating objections that society would collapse without faith, the text counters that laws should be justified by social necessity, recasts religion as a universal obsessional neurosis with totemic roots, and urges “education to reality” and gradual reliance on reason and science, even while admitting the transition will be slow and contested. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Of the importance of religious opinions" by Jacques Necker is a treatise of moral and political philosophy written in the late 18th century. It contends that religious belief is indispensable to public order and private happiness, countering efforts to ground morality solely in law, reason, or social esteem. The work promises wide scope—from the social uses of worship and relations with sovereigns to arguments for God’s existence, tolerance, and Christian morality. The opening of the treatise presents a translator’s note, a detailed table of contents, and an introduction in which the author, reflecting after public service, argues that administration, law, morality, and religion form one system whose harmony secures social prosperity. He laments fashionable indifference and sets himself between harsh intolerance and flippant unbelief, proposing to test whether a secular “moral catechism” can replace religion. Chapter I asserts that basing virtue on the supposed union of private and public interest fails amid real social inequalities, limited education, and strong passions; laws reach actions but not intentions, whereas religion uniquely addresses imagination, conscience, youth, and the afflicted, offering simple, binding commands and hope beyond the present. At the start of Chapter II, he argues that civil and penal laws and public opinion cannot control hidden or ambiguous wrongs; only conscience, grounded in God, can, and even judges need both statute and inward moral responsibility, while reputation and public rewards are narrow, fallible incentives beside religion’s universal, interior authority. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

"Palaces and Prisons" by Ann S. Stephens is a historical novel written in the late 19th century. Set on the eve of the French Revolution, it intertwines court intrigue and street-level hardship, following figures like Countess Du Barry, Marie Antoinette, Dr. Gosner, Count Mirabeau, and the humble yet determined Marguerite and her mother. The story promises a clash between glittering palaces and brutal prisons, as personal fates collide with rising popular unrest. The opening of the novel contrasts the Grand Trianon’s splendor with Parisian poverty. Du Barry imperiously presses the refined physician-seer Dr. Gosner to prolong the king’s life and predict her future; he refuses, foresees her death on a blood-soaked scaffold, and reveals the ominous power of his Egyptian scarab ring. Enraged, she secures a lettre-de-cachet to send him to the Bastille and has her dwarf, Zamara, plant the ring as a “gift” for the Dauphiness, who innocently slips it on. The scene shifts to a garret where Gosner’s starving wife and daughter, aided by the people’s man Jacques, learn that Gosner is alive in the Bastille; they pledge themselves to the cause of liberty, encounter the magnetic Mirabeau, and—through a kind market woman—find Marguerite work selling flowers. It closes with the mother’s renewed resolve, signaling her transformation from desperate petitioner to a woman ready to act. (This is an automatically generated summary.)