Fiction Books

I AN OFFER TO OPEN THE RIVER Considering the state of the imperial city of Frankfort, one would not expect to find such a gathering as was assembled in the Kaiser cellar of the Rheingold drinking tavern. Outside in the streets all was turbulence and disorder; a frenzy on the part of the populace taxing to the utmost the efforts of the city authorities to keep it within bounds, and prevent the... more...

LIST of the SUBSCRIBERS, A. Copies. SIR. John St. Aubyn, of Clowance, Baronet 20Rev. Mr. Jerveys Allen, of HelstonThomas Saunders Allen of St. Just, Attorney at LawAlexander Allen, Purser of the Wolf Sloop of WarJohn Antony, of St. IvesJohn Antony, junior, of St. Ives B. Joseph Beard, of PenzanceJohn Batten, jun. of ditto, MerchantJoseph Batten, of dittoJohn Blewett, Esq. of Marazion 4George Borlase,... more...

Early in the Mackinac summer Owen Cunning took his shoemaker's bench and all his belongings to that open cavern on the beach called the Devil's Kitchen, which was said to derive its name from former practices of the Indians. They roasted prisoners there. The inner rock retained old smoke-stains. Though appearing a mere hole in the cliff to passing canoe-men, the Devil's Kitchen was... more...

SERMON. 1 Corinthians, x. 31. WHETHER YE EAT OR DRINK, OR WHATSOEVER YE DO, DO ALL TO THE GLORY OF GOD. The solemnities of this occasion belong to a Christian people. By them religion is solicited to throw her protection and authority around the institutions of the State. The citizen and the magistrate recognise their common relation to a higher Power than the functionary or the State, and in such... more...

CHAPTER I Elijah Rasba lived alone in a log cabin on Temple Run. He was a long, lank, blue-eyed young man, with curly brown hair and a pale, almost livid complexion. His eye-brows were heavy and dark brown, and the blue steel of his gaze was fixed unwaveringly upon any object that it distinguished. Two generations before, Old Abe Rasba had built a church on a little brook, a tributary of Jackson River,... more...

CHAPTER I. THE TWO POETS OF SAFFRON PARK THE suburb of Saffron Park lay on the sunset side of London, as red and ragged as a cloud of sunset. It was built of a bright brick throughout; its sky-line was fantastic, and even its ground plan was wild. It had been the outburst of a speculative builder, faintly tinged with art, who called its architecture sometimes Elizabethan and sometimes Queen Anne,... more...

AT THE TELEGRAPH On the third day of August, 1870, I left Paris in search of John Buckhurst. On the 4th of August I lost all traces of Mr. Buckhurst near the frontier, in the village of Morsbronn. The remainder of the day I spent in acquiring that “general information” so dear to the officials in Paris whose flimsy systems of intelligence had already begun to break down. On August 5th, about eight... more...

RELIGIOUS POEMS THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM Where Time the measure of his hoursBy changeful bud and blossom keeps,And, like a young bride crowned with flowers,Fair Shiraz in her garden sleeps; Where, to her poet's turban stone,The Spring her gift of flowers imparts,Less sweet than those his thoughts have sownIn the warm soil of Persian hearts: There sat the stranger, where the shadeOf scattered... more...

THE DOOM OF SOULIS."They roll'd him up in a sheet of lead—A sheet of lead for a funeral pall;They plunged him in the caldron red,And melted him—lead, and bones, and all."—Leyden. A Gazetteer would inform you that Denholm is a village beautifully situated near the banks of the Teviot, about midway between Jedburgh and Hawick, and in the Parish of Cavers; and perhaps, if of modern... more...

LETTER I. Beloved: This is your first letter from me: yet it is not the first I have written to you. There are letters to you lying at love's dead-letter office in this same writing—so many, my memory has lost count of them! This is my confession: I told you I had one to make, and you laughed:—you did not know how serious it was—for to be in love with you long before you were in love with... more...