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Fiction Books
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                by: 
                                H. R. van Dongen                                
            
        
                                 The patient sat stiffly in the leather chair on the other side of the desk. Nervously he pressed a coin into the palm of one hand. "Just start anywhere," I said, "and tell me all about it." "As before?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, the coin clutched tightly in one hand. "I'm Charles J. Fisher, professor of Philosophy at Reiser College." He looked at...
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                                 Antoine Louis Barye At the Metropolitan Museum of Art are two pictures by the Florentine painter of the fifteenth century called Piero di Cosimo. They represent hunting scenes, and the figures are those of men, women, fauns, satyrs, centaurs, and beasts of the forests, fiercely struggling together. As we observe the lion fastening his teeth in the flesh of the boar, the bear grappling with his human...
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                                 When some years ago we took the liberty, in a volume of our so-called "Confessions," to introduce to our reader's acquaintance the gentleman whose name figures in the title page, we subjoined a brief notice, by himself, intimating the intention he entertained of one day giving to the world a farther insight into his life and opinions, under the title of "Loiterings of Arthur...
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                                 CHAPTER I. I was resident in this city during the year 1793. Many motives contributed to detain me, though departure was easy and commodious, and my friends were generally solicitous for me to go. It is not my purpose to enumerate these motives, or to dwell on my present concerns and transactions, but merely to compose a narrative of some incidents with which my situation made me acquainted. Returning...
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                by: 
                                Anonymous                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I. One pleasant October evening, Arthur Hamilton was at play in front of the small, brown cottage in which he lived. He and his brother James, were having a great frolic with a large spotted dog, who was performing a great variety of antics, such as only well-educated dogs understand. But Rover had been carefully initiated into the mysteries of making a bow while standing on his hind legs,...
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                by: 
                                Edgar Jepson                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I The rays of the September sun flooded the great halls of the old chateau of the Dukes of Charmerace, lighting up with their mellow glow the spoils of so many ages and many lands, jumbled together with the execrable taste which so often afflicts those whose only standard of value is money. The golden light warmed the panelled walls and old furniture to a dull lustre, and gave back to the...
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                by: 
                                Marietta Holley                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I Our son, Thomas Jefferson, and his wife, Maggie, have been wadin’ through a sea of trouble. He down with inflamatory rumatiz so a move or jar of any kind, a fly walkin’ over the bedclothes, would most drive him crazy; and she with nervious prostration, brought on I spoze by nussin’ her pardner and her youngest boy, Thomas Josiah (called Tommy), through the measles, that had left him...
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                by: 
                                Jules Verne                                
            
        
                                 Chapter I IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH OTHER,THE ONE AS MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that...
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                by: 
                                Jules Verne                                
            
        
                                 In Which Phileas Fogg, Passepartout and FixGo Each about His Business The weather was bad during the latter days of the voyage. The wind, obstinately remaining in the northwest, blew a gale, and retarded the steamer. The Rangoon rolled heavily and the passengers became impatient of the long, monstrous waves which the wind raised before their path. A sort of tempest arose on the 3rd of November, the...
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                by: 
                                Robert Lee Berry                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER ONEBEGINNING THE SEARCHIt was in the year of 1885 that the railroad was put through the particular corner of Missouri that marks the scene where the events of this narrative took place. With the coming of the railroad, there came an influx of new settlers, who were of various nationalities and conditions in life. There were Swedes from Malmo, Germans from Dresden, and Irishmen from Tyrone, all...
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