Categories
- Antiques & Collectibles 13
- Architecture 36
- Art 48
- Bibles 22
- Biography & Autobiography 815
- Body, Mind & Spirit 144
- Business & Economics 28
- Children's Books 18
- Children's Fiction 14
- Computers 4
- Cooking 94
- Crafts & Hobbies 4
- Drama 346
- Education 58
- Family & Relationships 59
- Fiction 11834
- Games 19
- Gardening 17
- Health & Fitness 34
- History 1378
- House & Home 1
- Humor 147
- Juvenile Fiction 1873
- Juvenile Nonfiction 202
- Language Arts & Disciplines 89
- Law 16
- Literary Collections 686
- Literary Criticism 179
- Mathematics 13
- Medical 41
- Music 40
- Nature 179
- Non-Classifiable 1768
- Performing Arts 7
- Periodicals 1453
- Philosophy 65
- Photography 2
- Poetry 896
- Political Science 203
- Psychology 44
- Reference 154
- Religion 515
- Science 126
- Self-Help 85
- Social Science 83
- Sports & Recreation 34
- Study Aids 3
- Technology & Engineering 59
- Transportation 23
- Travel 463
- True Crime 29
F. Berkeley (Frank Berkeley) Smith
Frank Berkeley Smith was an American author and artist, known for his travel writing and depictions of European life. One of his most notable works is "A Village of Vagabonds," which humorously portrays the experiences of expatriates in a small French village. Smith's style blends vivid descriptions with light-hearted storytelling, offering readers a window into early 20th-century France. He also wrote "How Paris Amuses Itself," reflecting his fascination with Parisian culture and his ability to capture the essence of the places he explored.
Author's Books:
Sort by:
CHAPTER ONE THE HOUSE BY THE MARSH It was in fat Madame Fontaine's little café at Bar la Rose, that Norman village by the sea, that I announced my decision. It being market-day the café was noisy with peasants, and the crooked street without jammed with carts. Monsieur Torin, the butcher, opposite me, leaned back heavily from his glass of applejack and roared. Monsieur Pompanet, the blacksmith,...
more...
“Cocher, drive to the rue Falguière”—this in my best restaurant French. The man with the varnished hat shrugged his shoulders, and raised his eyebrows in doubt. He evidently had never heard of the rue Falguière. “Yes, rue Falguière, the old rue des Fourneaux,” I continued. Cabby’s face broke out into a smile. “Ah, oui, oui, le Quartier Latin.” And it was at the end of this crooked...
more...