Fiction Books

PROLOGUE I He was hardly fit to figure in the great review of life. A boy of ten or twelve, in tattered clothes, with an accordion in a case swung over one shoulder like a sack, and under the other arm a wooden cage containing a grey squirrel. It was a December night in London, and the Southern lad had nothing to shelter his little body from the Northern cold but his short velveteen jacket, red... more...

PROEM I LOVE the old melodious laysWhich softly melt the ages through,The songs of Spenser's golden days,Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew. Yet, vainly in my quiet hoursTo breathe their marvellous notes I try;I feel them, as the leaves and flowersIn silence feel the dewy showers,And drink with glad, still lips the blessing of the sky. The... more...

HOME AT LAST. It was on a summer's evening early in the month of August that the little Mummy was once again seen on the platform at Dawlish. She looked now very much like she did when we saw her of yore—slightly broadened, it is true, by the added years, but she still wore somewhat rusty widow's black, and her face still had that half-anxious, half-comical expression, which made people... more...

CHAPTER I In the older conception, history was a record chiefly of battles, of intrigues, of wicked deeds; it was true that the evil that men did lived after them; at least, the even tenor of their ways was passed over without notice by the chroniclers, and only a salient point, a great battle or a great crime, attracted attention. If little but deeds of violence is recorded about men, still less... more...

CHAPTER I It was the Pageant of the Prophets which gave Jerry Paxton his first chance. There were several links in the primrose chain of fortune which led him from the first opportunity to the last. The first and most important may be said to have been Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon, who opened her house for a portrait exhibition. She had an eye for men as well as for art, so when handsome Jerry appeared,... more...

It was in a little woodland glen, with a streamlet tumbling through it. She sat with her back to a snowy birch-tree, gazing into the eddies of a pool below; and he lay beside her, upon the soft, mossy ground, reading out of a book of poems. Images of joy were passing before them; and there came four lines with a picture—    "Hard by, a cottage-chimney smokes,    From betwixt two aged... more...

Chapter 1 THE PROMENADE The piece was a West End success so brilliant that even if you belonged to the intellectual despisers of the British theatre you could not hold up your head in the world unless you had seen it; even for such as you it was undeniably a success of curiosity at least. The stage scene flamed extravagantly with crude orange and viridian light, a rectangle of bedazzling illumination;... more...

THE BOBSLED RACE "All ready, boys?" "Wait a minute, Jack." "Can't wait; life is too short!" cried Jack Rover gayly. He was seated at the front of a long bobsled holding six boys. "Remember, we've got to be back at the Hall in half an hour." "Please don't mention it!" pleaded Randy Rover, his cousin. "Hi, you fellows! are you going to race or... more...

IHEARTS AND CROSSES Baldy Woods reached for the bottle, and got it. Whenever Baldy went for anything he usually--but this is not Baldy's story. He poured out a third drink that was larger by a finger than the first and second. Baldy was in consultation; and the consultee is worthy of his hire. "I'd be king if I was you," said Baldy, so positively that his holster creaked and his spurs... more...

Chapter I Tool or Man? A complete man is so uncommon that when he appears he is looked upon with suspicion, as if there must be something wrong about him. If a man is content to deal vigorously with affairs, and leave art, religion, and science to the enjoyment or refreshment or enlightenment of others, he is accepted as strong, sounds and wise; but let him add to practical sagacity a love of poetry... more...