Fiction Books

The early morning streetcar, swaying and rattling along its tracks, did as much to divert my attention from the book I was reading as the contents of the book itself. I did not like Plato. Comfortable though the seat was, I was as uncomfortable as any collegiate could be whose mind would rather dwell upon tomorrow's football game than the immediate task in hand—the morning session with Professor... more...

INTRODUCTION How frequently food poisoning occurs is not definitely known. Everybody is aware that certain articles of food are now and again held responsible for more or less severe "attacks of indigestion" or other physiological disturbances that have followed their consumption, but in many cases the evidence for assuming a causal connection is of the slightest. That convenient refuge from... more...

A DRAMA IN ONE ACT Teja, King of the Goths.Balthilda, Queen.Amalaberga, her mother.Agila,Bishop.Euric}Lords in the former kingdom of the Goths.TheodemirAthanaricIldibad, spearbearer of the King.Haribalt, a warrior.Two Camp Watchers.Teja The scene represents the King's tent. The curtains are open in the background and permit a view through the camp of the Gothic warriors, over toward Vesuvius, and... more...

CHAPTER I (I) The first objects of which he became aware were his own hands clasped on his lap before him, and the cloth cuffs from which they emerged; and it was these latter that puzzled him. So engrossed was he that at first he could not pay attention to the strange sounds in the air about him; for these cuffs, though black, were marked at their upper edges with a purpled line such as prelates wear.... more...

THE NEW VESSEL OF WITHROW’S It was only a few days before this that the new vessel of Mr. Withrow’s, built by him, as everybody supposed, for Maurice Blake, had been towed around from Essex, and I remember how Maurice stood on the dock that afternoon and looked her over. There was not a bolt or a plank or a seam in her whole hull, not a square inch inside or out, that he had not been over half a... more...

The Bishop was walking across the fields to afternoon service. It was a hot July day, and he walked slowly—for there was plenty of time—with his eyes fixed on the far-off, shimmering sea. That minstrel of heat, the locust, hidden somewhere in the shade of burning herbage, pulled a long, clear, vibrating bow across his violin, and the sound fell lazily on the still air—the only sound on earth... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION A journey to Kashmir now—in these days of cheap and rapid locomotion—is in nowise serious. It takes time, I grant you, but to any one with a few months to spare—and there are many in that happy position—there can be few pleasanter ways of spending a summer holiday. It would be as well to start from England not later than the middle of March, as the Red Sea and the Sind... more...

CHAPTER I IN THE GARDEN "IF it was only true that castles COULD be enchanted, then I'd surely think Sherwood Hall was one," said the little girl with soft, dreamy eyes. "You'd think Sherwood Hall was what?" questioned the other little girl, who had paused to rest her foot upon a stone, while she tied the ribbons of her shoe. "An enchanted castle!" "Why Vivian... more...

CHAPTER I Back and forth, back and forth, over the net, spun the little white ball, driven by the quick, sure strokes of the players. There was no sound save the bounding of the ball against the racquets, and the thud of rubber soles on the hard ground. Then—a sudden twirl of a supple wrist, and— "Deuce!" cried the girl, triumphantly brandishing her racquet in the air. The man on the other... more...

I. SHANGHAIED This is to be a story of a battle, at least one murder, and several sudden deaths. For that reason it begins with a pink tea and among the mingled odors of many delicate perfumes and the hale, frank smell of Caroline Testout roses. There had been a great number of debutantes "coming out" that season in San Francisco by means of afternoon teas, pink, lavender, and otherwise. This... more...