Fiction Books

With the Night Mail At nine o'clock of a gusty winter night I stood on the lower stages of one of the G. P. O. outward mail towers. My purpose was a run to Quebec in "Postal Packet 162 or such other as may be appointed"; and the Postmaster-General himself countersigned the order. This talisman opened all doors, even those in the despatching-caisson at the foot of the tower, where they... more...

PREFACE. I am unwilling that this volume should go forth to the world without some account of its origin and of its contents. I. Appointed last year, (without solicitation on his part,) to the office of Select Preacher, the present writer was called upon at the commencement of the October Term to address the University. His Sermon, (the first in the volume,) was simply intended to embody the advice... more...

CHAPTER I THE GIANT'S SWING "To-night we shall have a most wonderful time," said the Elephant from the Noah's Ark to a Double Humped Camel who lived in the stall next to him. "What kind of a time?" asked the Camel. He stood on the toy counter of a big department store, looking across the top of a drum toward a Jack in the Box who was swaying to and fro on his long spring.... more...

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WITH OMARI sat with Omar by the Tavern door,Musing the mystery of mortals o'er,And soon with answers alternate we stroveWhether, beyond death, Life hath any shore."Come, fill the cup," said he. "In the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling. The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.""The Bird of Time?" I answered.... more...

CHAPTER I The old stucco house sat back in a garden, or what must once have been a garden, when that part of the Austrian city had been a royal game preserve. Tradition had it that the Empress Maria Theresa had used the building as a hunting-lodge, and undoubtedly there was something royal in the proportions of the salon. With all the candles lighted in the great glass chandelier, and no sidelights, so... more...

CHAPTER I AN EMBODIMENT OF MAY "Beyond that revolving light lies my home. And yet why should I use such a term when the best I can say is that a continent is my home? Home suggests a loved familiar nook in the great world. There is no such niche for me, nor can I recall any place around which my memory lingers with especial pleasure." In a gloomy and somewhat bitter mood, Alford Graham thus... more...

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A POOR MAN'S TALE OF A PATENT I AM not used to writing for print. What working-man, that never labours less (some Mondays, and Christmas Time and Easter Time excepted) than twelve or fourteen hours a day, is? But I have been asked to put down, plain, what I have got to say; and so I take pen-and-ink, and do it to the best of my power, hoping defects will find excuse. I was born nigh London, but... more...

Not So Much I evaded capture todaywith only a handful of dustto escape that Old Sandman Death. Certainly, those maroon berries,so large & luscious,crowded on their fat stemshad something to do with itas did the ground fogleaving its burrow as so many boll-weevilstheir crowded nests. And there might be something to the factthe moonlight satfat & confidant in the night skyas surelyas my head... more...