Tortoises

By D. H. Lawrence

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tortoises, by D. H. Lawrence

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org


Title: Tortoises

Author: D. H. Lawrence

Release Date: August 31, 2007 [EBook #22475]

Language: English


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TORTOISES ***




Produced by David Widger





TORTOISES

By D. H. Lawrence



NEW  YORK

THOMAS SELTZER

1921


CONTENTS

     Baby Tortoise

     Tortoise-Shell

     Tortoise Family Connections

     Lui et Elle

     Tortoise Gallantry

     Tortoise Shout





BABY TORTOISE


     You know what it is to be born alone,
     Baby tortoise!
     The first day to heave your feet little by little
          from the shell,
     Not yet awake,
     And remain lapsed on earth,
     Not quite alive.

     A tiny, fragile, half-animate bean.

     To open your tiny beak-mouth, that looks as if
          it would never open,
     Like some iron door;
     To lift the upper hawk-beak from the lower base
     And reach your skinny little neck
     And take your first bite at some dim bit of
          herbage,
     Alone, small insect,
     Tiny bright-eye,
     Slow one.

     To take your first solitary bite
     And move on your slow, solitary hunt.
     Your bright, dark little eye,
     Your eye of a dark disturbed night,
     Under its slow lid, tiny baby tortoise,
     So indomitable.

     No one ever heard you complain.

     You draw your head forward, slowly, from your
          little wimple
     And set forward, slow-dragging, on your four-
          pinned toes,
     Rowing slowly forward.
     Whither away, small bird?

     Rather like a baby working its limbs,
     Except that you make slow, ageless progress
     And a baby makes none.

     The touch of sun excites you,
     And the long ages, and the lingering chill
     Make you pause to yawn,
     Opening your impervious mouth,
     Suddenly beak-shaped, and very wide, like some
          suddenly gaping pincers;
     Soft red tongue, and hard thin gums,
     Then close the wedge of your little mountain
          front,
     Your face, baby tortoise.

     Do you wonder at the world, as slowly you turn
          your head in its wimple
     And look with laconic, black eyes?
     Or is sleep coming over you again,
     The non-life?

     You are so hard to wake.

     Are you able to wonder?

     Or is it just your indomitable will and pride of
          the first life
     Looking round
     And slowly pitching itself against the inertia
     Which had seemed invincible?

     The vast inanimate,
     And the fine brilliance of your so tiny eye.

     Challenger.

     Nay, tiny shell-bird,
     What a huge vast inanimate it is, that you must
          row against,
     What an incalculable inertia.

     Challenger.

     Little Ulysses, fore-runner,
     No bigger than my thumb-nail,
     Buon viaggio.

     All animate creation on your shoulder,
     Set forth, little Titan, under your battle-shield.

     The ponderous, preponderate,
     Inanimate universe;
     And you are slowly moving, pioneer, you alone.

     How vivid your travelling seems now, in the
          troubled sunshine,
     Stoic, Ulyssean atom;
     Suddenly hasty, reckless, on high toes.

     Voiceless little bird,
     Resting your head half out of your wimple
     In the slow dignity of your eternal pause.
     Alone, with no sense of being alone,
     And hence six times more solitary;
     Fulfilled of the slow passion of pitching through
          immemorial ages
     Your little round house in the midst of chaos.

     Over the garden earth,
     Small bird,
     Over the edge of all things.

     Traveller,
     With your tail tucked a little on one side
     Like a gentleman in a long-skirted coat.

     All life carried on your shoulder,
     Invincible fore-runner.

     The Cross, the Cross
     Goes deeper in than we know,
     Deeper into life;
     Right into the marrow
     And through the bone.




TORTOISE-SHELL


     Along the back of the baby tortoise
     The scales are locked in an arch like a bridge,
     Scale-lapping, like a lobster's sections
     Or a bee's.

     Then crossways down his sides
     Tiger-stripes and wasp-bands.
     Five, and five again, and five again,
     And round the edges twenty-five little ones,
     The sections of the baby tortoise shell.

     Four, and a keystone;
     Four, and a keystone;
     Four, and a keystone;
     Then twenty-four, and a tiny little keystone.

     It needed Pythagoras  to see life placing her
          counters on the living back
     Of the baby tortoise;
     Life establishing the first eternal mathematical
          tablet,
     Not in stone, like the Judean Lord, or bronze, but
          in life-clouded, life-rosy tortoise-shell.

     The first little mathematical gentleman
     Stepping, wee mite, in his loose trousers
     Under all the eternal dome of mathematical law.

     Fives, and tens,
     Threes and fours and twelves,
     All the volte face of decimals,
     The whirligig of dozens and the pinnacle of seven,
     Turn him on his back,
     The kicking little beetle,
     And there again, on his shell-tender, earth-touching
          belly,
     The long cleavage of division, upright of the
          eternal cross.

     And on either side count five,
     On each side, two above, on each side, two below
     The dark bar horizontal.

     It goes right through him, the sprottling insect,
     Through his cross-wise cloven psyche,
     Through his five-fold complex-nature.

     So turn him over on his toes again;
     Four pin-point toes, and a problematical thumb-
          piece,

     Four rowing limbs, and one wedge-balancing-
          head,

     Four and one makes five, which is the clue to all
          mathematics.

     The Lord wrote it all down on the little slate
     Of the baby tortoise.

     Outward and visible indication of the plan within,
     The complex, manifold involvedness of an
          individual creature
     Blotted out
     On this small bird, this rudiment,
     This little dome, this pediment
     Of all creation,
     This slow one.




TORTOISE FAMILY CONNECTIONS


     On he goes, the little one,
     Bud of the universe,
     Pediment of life.

     Setting off somewhere, apparently.
     Whither away, brisk egg?

     His mother deposited him on the soil as if he were
          no more than droppings,
     And now he scuffles tinily past her as if she were
          an old rusty tin.

     A mere obstacle,
     He veers round the slow great mound of her.

     Tortoises always foresee obstacles.

     It is no use my saying to him in an emotional
          voice:
     "This is your Mother, she laid you when you were
          an egg."

     He does not even trouble to answer:   "Woman,
          what have I to do with thee?"
     He wearily looks the other way,
     And she even more wearily looks another way
          still,
     Each with the utmost apathy,
     Incognizant,
     Unaware,
     Nothing.

     As for papa,
     He snaps when I offer him his offspring,
     Just as he snaps when I poke a bit of stick at him,
     Because he is irascible this morning, an irascible
          tortoise
     Being touched with love, and devoid of
          fatherliness.

     Father and mother,
     And three little brothers,
     And all rambling aimless, like little perambulating
          pebbles scattered in the garden,
     Not knowing each other from bits of earth or old
          tins.

     Except that papa and mama are old acquaintances,
          of course,
     But family feeling there is none, not even the
          beginnings.

     Fatherless, motherless, brotherless, sisterless
     Little tortoise.

     Row on then, small pebble,
     Over the clods of the autumn, wind-chilled
          sunshine,
     Young gayety.

     Does he look for a companion?
     No, no, don't think it.
     He doesn't know he is alone;
     Isolation is his birthright,
     This atom.

     To row forward, and reach himself tall on spiny
          toes,
     To travel, to burrow into a little loose earth,
          afraid of the night,
     To crop a little substance,
     To move, and to be quite sure that he is moving:
     Basta!

     To be a tortoise!
     Think of it, in a garden of inert clods
     A brisk, brindled little tortoise, all to himself--
     Croesus!

     In a garden of pebbles and insects
     To roam, and feel the slow heart beat
     Tortoise-wise, the first bell sounding
     From   the   warm  blood,   in   the   dark-creation
          morning.

     Moving, and being himself,
     Slow, and unquestioned,
     And inordinately there, O stoic!
     Wandering in the slow triumph of his own
          existence,
     Ringing the soundless bell of his presence in
          chaos,
     And biting the frail grass arrogantly,
     Decidedly arrogantly.




LUI ET ELLE


     She is large and matronly
     And rather dirty,
     A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had
          driven her to it.

     Though what she does, except lay four eggs at
          random in the garden once a year
     And put up with her husband,
     I don't know.

     She likes to eat.

     She hurries up, striding reared on long uncanny
          legs,
     When food is going.
     Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes.

     She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great
          mouthfuls,
     Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron,
          pristine face
     Into an enormously wide-beaked mouth
     Like sudden curved scissors,
     And gulping at more than she can swallow, and
          working her thick, soft tongue,
     And having the bread hanging over her chin.

     O Mistress, Mistress,
     Reptile mistress,
     Your eye is very dark, very bright,
     And it never softens
     Although you watch.

     She knows,
     She knows well enough to come for food,
     Yet she sees me not;
     Her bright eye sees, but not me, not anything,
     Sightful, sightless, seeing and visionless,
     Reptile mistress.

     Taking bread in her curved, gaping, toothless
          mouth,
     She has no qualm when she catches my finger in
          her steel overlapping gums,
     But she hangs on, and my shout and my shrinking
          are nothing to her,
     She does not even know she is nipping me with
          her curved beak.
     Snake-like she draws at my finger, while I drag
          it in horror away.

     Mistress, reptile mistress,
     You are almost too large, I am almost frightened.
     He is much smaller,
     Dapper beside her,
     And ridiculously small.

     Her laconic eye has an earthy, materialistic look,
     His, poor darling, is almost fiery.

     His wimple, his blunt-prowed face,
     His low forehead, his skinny neck, his long,
          scaled, striving legs,
     So striving, striving,
     Are all more delicate than she,
     And he has a cruel scar on his shell.

     Poor darling, biting at her feet,
     Running beside her like a dog, biting her earthy,
          splay feet,
     Nipping her ankles,
     Which she drags apathetic away, though without
          retreating into her shell.

     Agelessly silent,
     And with a grim, reptile determination,
     Cold,  voiceless  age-after-age  behind him,
          serpents' long obstinacy
     Of horizontal persistence.

     Little old man
     Scuffling beside her, bending down, catching his
          opportunity,
     Parting his steel-trap face, so suddenly, and
          seizing her scaly ankle,
     And hanging grimly on,
     Letting go at last as she drags away,
     And closing his steel-trap face.

     His steel-trap, stoic, ageless, handsome face.
     Alas, what a fool he looks in this scuffle.

     And how he feels it!

     The lonely rambler, the stoic, dignified stalker
     through chaos,
     The immune, the animate,
     Enveloped in isolation,
     Forerunner.
     Now look at him!

     Alas, the spear is through the side of his isolation.
     His adolescence saw him crucified into sex,
     Doomed, in the long crucifixion of desire, to seek
          his consummation beyond himself.
     Divided into passionate duality,
     He, so finished and immune, now broken into
          desirous fragmentariness,
     Doomed to make an intolerable fool of himself
     In his effort toward completion again.

     Poor little earthy house-inhabiting Osiris,
     The mysterious bull tore him at adolescence into
          pieces,
     And he must struggle after reconstruction,
          ignominiously.

     And so behold him following the tail
     Of that mud-hovel of his slowly-rambling spouse,
     Like some unhappy bull at the tail of a cow,
     But with more than bovine, grim,  earth-dank
          persistence,
     Suddenly seizing the ugly ankle as she stretches
          out to walk,
     Roaming over the sods,
     Or, if it happen to show, at her pointed, heavy tail
     Beneath the low-dropping back-board of her shell.

     Their two shells like doomed boats bumping,
     Hers huge, his small;
     Their   splay   feet   rambling   and   rowing   like
          paddles,
     And stumbling mixed up in one another,
     In the race of love--
     Two tortoises,
     She huge, he small.

     She seems earthily apathetic,
     And he has a reptile's awful persistence.

     I heard a woman pitying her, pitying the Mère
          Tortue.
     While I, I pity Monsieur.
     "He pesters her and torments her," said the
          woman.
     How much more is _he_ pestered and tormented,
          say I.

     What can he do?
     He is dumb, he is visionless,
     Conceptionless.

     His black, sad-lidded eye sees but beholds not
     As her earthen mound moves on,
     But he catches the folds of vulnerable, leathery
          skin,
     Nail-studded, that shake beneath her shell,
     And drags at these with his beak,
     Drags and drags and bites,
     While she pulls herself free, and rows her dull
          mound along.




TORTOISE GALLANTRY


     Making his advances
     He does not look at her, nor sniff at her,
     No, not even sniff at her, his nose is blank.

     Only he senses the vulnerable folds of skin
     That work beneath her while she sprawls along
     In her ungainly pace,
     Her folds of skin that work and row
     Beneath  the   earth-soiled  hovel  in  which  she
          moves.

     And so he strains beneath her housey walls
     And catches her trouser-legs in his beak
     Suddenly, or her skinny limb,
     And strange and grimly drags at her
     Like a dog,
     Only agelessly silent, with a reptile's awful
     persistency.

     Grim, gruesome gallantry, to which he is doomed.
     Dragged out of an eternity of silent isolation
     And doomed to partiality, partial being,
     Ache, and want of being,
     Want,
     Self-exposure, hard humiliation, need to add
          himself on to her.

     Born to walk alone,
     Forerunner,
     Now suddenly distracted into this mazy
          sidetrack,
     This awkward, harrowing pursuit,
     This grim necessity from within.

     Does she know
     As she moves eternally slowly away?
     Or is he driven against her with a bang, like a bird
          flying in the dark against a window,
     All knowledgeless?

     The awful concussion,
     And the still more awful need to persist, to follow,
          follow, continue,
     Driven,   after  aeons  of  pristine,   fore-god-like
          singleness and oneness,
     At the end of some mysterious, red-hot iron,
     Driven away from himself into her tracks,
     Forced to crash against her.

     Stiff, gallant, irascible, crook-legged reptile,
     Little gentleman,
     Sorry plight,
     We ought to look the other way.

     Save that, having come with you so far,
     We will go on to the end.                                     J




TORTOISE SHOUT


     I thought he was dumb,
     I said he was dumb,
     Yet I've heard him cry.

     First faint scream,
     Out of life's unfathomable dawn,
     Far off, so far, like a madness, under the horizon's
          dawning rim,
     Far, far off, far scream.

     Tortoise _in extremis_.

     Why were we crucified into sex?

     Why were we not left rounded off, and finished
          in ourselves,
     As we began,
     As he certainly began, so perfectly alone?

     A far, was-it-audible scream,
     Or did it sound on the plasm direct?

     Worse than the cry of the new-born,
     A scream,
     A yell,
     A shout,
     A pæan,
     A death-agony,
     A birth-cry,
     A submission,
     All tiny, tiny, far away, reptile under the first
     dawn.

     War-cry,  triumph,  acute-delight,  death-scream
          reptilian,
     Why was the veil torn?

     The silken shriek of the soul's torn membrane?
     The male soul's membrane
     Torn with a shriek half music, half horror.

     Crucifixion.

     Male tortoise, cleaving behind the hovel-wall of
          that dense female,
     Mounted and tense, spread-eagle, out-reaching
          out of the shell
     In tortoise-nakedness,
     Long neck, and long vulnerable limbs extruded,
     spread-eagle over her house-roof,
     And the deep, secret, all-penetrating tail curved
          beneath her walls,
     Reaching  and gripping  tense,  more  reaching
          anguish in uttermost tension
     Till suddenly, in the spasm of coition, tupping
          like a jerking leap, and oh!
     Opening its clenched face from his outstretched
          neck
     And giving that fragile yell, that scream,
     Super-audible,
     From his pink, cleft, old-man's mouth,
     Giving up the ghost,
     Or screaming in Pentecost, receiving the ghost.

     His scream, and his moment's subsidence,
     The moment of eternal silence,
     Yet unreleased, and after the moment, the
     sudden, startling jerk of coition, and at once
     The inexpressible faint yell--
     And so on, till the last plasm of my body was
          melted back
     To the primeval rudiments of life, and the secret.

     So he tups, and screams
     Time after time that frail, torn scream
     After each jerk, the longish interval,
     The tortoise eternity,
     Agelong, reptilian persistence,
     Heart-throb, slow heart-throb, persistent for the
          next spasm.

     I remember, when I was a boy,
     I heard the scream of a frog, which was caught
          with his foot in the mouth of an up-starting
          snake;
     I remember when I first heard bull-frogs break
          into sound in the spring;
     I remember hearing a wild goose out of the throat
          of night
     Cry loudly, beyond the lake of waters;
     I remember the first time, out of a bush in the
          darkness, a nightingale's piercing cries and
          gurgles startled the depths of my soul;
     I remember the scream of a rabbit as I went
          through a wood at midnight;
     I remember the heifer in her heat, blorting and
          blorting through the hours, persistent and
          irrepressible;
     I remember my first terror hearing the howl of
          weird, amorous cats;
     I remember the scream of a terrified, injured
          horse, the sheet-lightning
     And running away from the sound of a woman in
          labor, something like an owl whooing,
     And listening inwardly to the first bleat of a
          lamb,
     The first wail of an infant,
     And my mother singing to herself,
     And the first tenor singing of the passionate
          throat of a young collier, who has long since
          drunk himself to death,
     The first elements of foreign speech
     On wild dark lips.

     And more than all these,
     And less than all these,
     This last,
     Strange, faint coition yell
     Of the male tortoise at extremity,
     Tiny from under the very edge of the farthest
          far-off horizon of life.

     The cross,
     The wheel on which our silence first is broken,
     Sex, which breaks up our integrity, our single
          inviolability, our deep silence
     Tearing a cry from us.

     Sex, which breaks us into voice, sets us calling
          across the deeps, calling, calling for the
          complement,
     Singing, and calling, and singing again, being
          answered, having found.

     Torn, to become whole again, after long seeking
          for what is lost,
     The same cry from the tortoise as from Christ,
          the Osiris-cry of abandonment,
     That which is whole, torn asunder,
     That which is in part, finding its whole again
          throughout the universe.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tortoises, by D. H. Lawrence

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TORTOISES ***

***** This file should be named 22475-8.txt or 22475-8.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/7/22475/

Produced by David Widger

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.



*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg.org/license).


Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works

1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.  See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.

1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.

1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
     License.  You must require such a user to return or
     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
     Project Gutenberg-tm works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
     of receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.

1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.


Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.


Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
[email protected].  Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at http://pglaf.org

For additional contact information:
     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
     Chief Executive and Director
     [email protected]


Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate


Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.

Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.


Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.


Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:

     http://www.gutenberg.org

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.