Fiction Books

Roman Capital and Small Letters. A B C D E F G H I J K LM N O P Q R S T UV W X Y Z a b e d e f g h i j k l m n o p q rs t u v w x y z æ œ & A B C D E F G H I J K L MN O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z a b e d e f g h i j k l m n o p q rs t u v w x y z æ œ &         To see a butcher kill a hog, is no news;But to see a hare run after a dog, is strange indeed!This hare hunts the dog,Tho' all of... more...

THE EULOGIES OF HOWARD It was my chance to be conversing with a Friend of the benevolent and indefatigable HOWARD, when our country was first afflicted with the public intelligence of his death. After our first expression of surprize and sorrow, we naturally fell into serious and affectionate reflections on the gentle character and sublime pursuits of the deceased. On these articles we had no... more...

In his address to the Diocesan Convention of 1881, Bishop Williams suggested the appointment of a committee to provide for the appropriate commemoration of the centenary of the election of the first Bishop of Connecticut in the last week of March, 1783. On motion of the Rev. Dr. Beardsley, this suggestion was referred to a committee of three clergymen and two laymen, with the Bishop as chairman. The... more...

Thanks to the precautions taken by Procopius, the trick had succeeded completely. At the moment in which the flag of the Goths fell and their King was taken prisoner, they were everywhere surprised and overpowered. In the courts of the palace, in the streets and canals of the city and in the camp, they were surrounded by far superior numbers. A palisade of lances met their sight on all sides. Almost... more...

HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK. IT was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells then; storm and... more...

TO MARY FIELD FRENCH A dying mother gave to you  Her child a many years ago;How in your gracious love he grew,  You know, dear, patient heart, you know. The mother's child you fostered then  Salutes you now and bids you takeThese little children of his pen  And love them for the author's sake. To you I dedicate this book,  And, as you read it line by line,Upon its faults as kindly... more...

THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW May no ill dreams disturb my rest,Nor Powers of Darkness me molest.—Evening Hymn. One of the few advantages that India has over England is a great Knowability. After five years' service a man is directly or indirectly acquainted with the two or three hundred Civilians in his Province, all the Messes of ten or twelve Regiments and Batteries, and some fifteen hundred... more...

CHAPTER I.—THE BATTLE OF THE BRIDGE. The time occupied by the events detailed in the three preceding chapters, had been passed by Antonio in a state of self-exile from his master's studio. Conscious of having disobeyed the earnest injunctions of Contarini, the weakness of his character withheld him alike from confessing his fault, and from encountering the penetrating gaze of the old painter.... more...

CHAPTER I. Archibald Dundass was a rich Jamaica planter, whose estates were situated in one of the most delightful regions in that garden of the West India isles. His wife, an English lady, of great personal attractions and highly connected, died when Helen, their only child, had just entered her thirteenth year, an age when, perhaps, a mother's counsel and tender guidance is most required. When... more...

CHAPTER 1. Lost in a Blizzard. "Rowdy" Vaughan—he had been christened Rowland by his mother, and rechristened Rowdy by his cowboy friends, who are prone to treat with much irreverence the names bestowed by mothers—was not happy. He stood in the stirrups and shook off the thick layer of snow which clung, damp and close-packed, to his coat. The dull yellow folds were full of it; his gray hat,... more...