Fiction Books

"Too bad, Griffin," Hale Jenkins said to the man alongside. "Now if you'd have just stuck to bank stick-ups, you'd have been all right." "Nah!" Bud Griffin said, his mouth twisted in a wry grin. "I'd have been all right if you'd have just stuck to being a traffic cop. But you had to show the Commissioner you were on the ball, so he sent you after me.... more...

The summer of 1814 was a troubled one for the people living in northern New York. English troops were concentrating at points just across the Canadian border, and there were rumors that they would soon invade the territory of the States. The farmers were being hastily drilled into militia companies—train-bands, as they were called; the women were anxious and frightened; the boys shared the general... more...

ADMONITIONSto theDISSIPATED.   Excess to mankind oft’times brings,Remorse with all its bitter stings;When cares oppress us in this life.At times we drink to banish strife;But when its feeble aid is o’er,We are more wretched then before.Oft poverty the man disgrace,And shows a drunkard in his face;Suppose he is a man of wealth,Excess of liquor injures health;Not only health but sad to name,Such... more...

A monkey and a crab once met when going round a mountain. The monkey had picked up a persimmon-seed, and the crab had a piece of toasted rice-cake. The monkey seeing this, and wishing to get something that could be turned to good account at once, said: "Pray, exchange that rice-cake for this persimmon-seed." The crab, without a word, gave up his cake, and took the persimmon-seed and planted it.... more...

CHAPTER I Sometimes I am rewarded for fretting myself so much about present matters by a quite unasked-for pleasant dream. I mean when I am asleep. This dream is as it were a present of an architectural peep-show. I see some beautiful and noble building new made, as it were for the occasion, as clearly as if I were awake; not vaguely or absurdly, as often happens in dreams, but with all the detail... more...

Mark Renner looked anxiously backward as he ran up the street to the place where the faded gold lettering on one window said "Jewelry." That would be a good place to hide, he thought. Most of the plate-glass windows and doors along the street were broken out as in fact they were everywhere, and had been for twenty years—but one of the jewelry windows and the door, protected by iron grating,... more...

Chapter 1 Small feckless clouds were hurried across the vast untroubled sky—shepherdless, futile, imponderable—and were torn to fragments on the fangs of the mountains, so ending their ephemeral adventures with nothing of their fugitive existence left but a few tears. It was cold in the Callow—a spinney of silver birches and larches that topped a round hill. A purple mist hinted of buds in the... more...

NORMAN DUNCAN An Appreciation byWilfred T. Grenfell, M.D. As our thoughts fly back to the days when the writer of these stories was a guest aboard our little hospital vessel, we remember realizing how vast was the gulf which seemed to lie between him and the circumstances of our sea life in the Northland. Nowhere else in the world, perhaps, do the cold facts of life call for a more unrelieved material... more...

I have often wondered if the world ever thinks of what becomes of the children of great criminals who expiate their crime on the scaffold. Are they taken away and brought up somewhere in ignorance of who or what they are? Does some kind relative step forward always bring them up under another name? There is great criminal trial, and we hear that the man condemned to death leaves two daughters and a... more...

"SWEET HOME!" She was talking at him. This was a thing she frequently did, and she had two ways of doing it. One was to talk at him through a third party when they two were not alone together; the other to convey moralizings and innuendo for his edification when they were—as in the present case. Just now she was extolling the superabundant virtues of somebody else's husband, with a tone... more...