Fiction Books

MOODY'S STORIES Lady Pendulum When Mr. Sankey and I were in London a lady who attended our meetings was brought into the house in her carriage, being unable to walk. At first she was very skeptical; but one day she said to her servant: "Take me into the inquiry room." After I had talked with her a good while about her soul she said: "But you will go back to America, and it will be all... more...

CHAPTER I The country is so much larger than the city and so empty that you rattle around in it until you wonder if you are ever going to get stuck to any place, especially if there isn't a house numbered anywhere. Our street is named Providence Road and the house Byrd Mansion and I am afraid I'll never be at home there as long as I live. But the doctor says Mother has to live in the country... more...

CHAPTER I THE NEW COACHMAN "Now you polish up those buckles real good, won't you, 'Zekiel? I will say for Fanshaw, you could most see your face in the harness always." The young fellow addressed rubbed away at the nickel plating good humoredly, although he had heard enough exhortations in the last twenty-four hours to chafe somewhat the spirit of youth. His mother, a large, heavy... more...

CHAPTER I Outside one of the park gates there was a little house. In the prosperous days of the La Sarthe it had been the land steward's—but when there was no longer any land to steward it had gone with the rest, and for several years had been uninhabited. One day in early spring Halcyone saw smoke coming out of the chimney. This was too interesting a fact not to be investigated; she resented... more...

PROLOGUE A RACE FOR A WOMAN In Clifden, the chief coast town of Connemara, there is a house at the end of a triangle which the two streets of the town form, the front windows of which look straight down the beautiful harbour and bay, whose waters stretch out beyond the islands which are scattered along the coast and, with the many submerged reefs, make the entrance so difficult. In the first-floor... more...

Nemra, 2555 CE The crash must've been more realistic than he'd planned, Ranger Esteban Tarlac thought groggily as he regained consciousness. His head hurt where something had hit it, and his body ached in a pattern that matched the crash webbing's. But at least one thing was going according to plan: he'd obviously been captured by the rebels, since he was hanging by his wrists with... more...

CHAPTER I. "PIONEERS, O PIONEERS" If you had stood on the borders of Askatoon, a prairie town, on the pathway to the Rockies one late August day not many years ago, you would have heard a fresh young human voice singing into the morning, as its possessor looked, from a coat she was brushing, out over the "field of the cloth of gold," which your eye has already been invited to see. With... more...

CHAPTER I Cautiously the young flight engineer stretched his cramped legs across some gadgets in his crowded little compartment. Leaning back in his swivel chair he folded a pair of freckled hands behind his neck and smiled at Lee. "This is it doctor; we're almost there." The tall and lanky man at the frame of the door didn't seem to understand. Bending forward he peered through the... more...

THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA "What I want you to do," said Mr. George Wright, as he leaned towards the old sailor, "is to be an uncle to me." "Aye, aye," said the mystified Mr. Kemp, pausing with a mug of beer midway to his lips. "A rich uncle," continued the young man, lowering his voice to prevent any keen ears in the next bar from acquiring useless knowledge. "An uncle... more...

This book has grown out of studies begun twenty years ago in Italy, and continued fitfully, as I found the mood and time for them, long after their original circumstance had become a pleasant memory. If any one were to say that it did not fully represent the Italian poetry of the period which it covers chronologically, I should applaud his discernment; and perhaps I should not contend that it did much... more...