Fiction Books

CHAPTER I THE BOY FLIERS "It was my mistake, Frank!" "How do you make that out, Andy?" "Simply because I was using the little patent Bird monkey-wrench last in our shop, and should have put it back in the toolbox belonging to the aeroplane. The fact that it isn't here shows that I mislaid it. Give me a bad mark, Frank." "Well, I must say it's a queer stunt for you... more...

I 1 The cigar was a large one and Robert Stonehouse was small. At the precise moment, in fact, when he leant out of the upstairs bedroom window, instinctively seeking fresh air, he became eight years old. He did not know this, though he did know that it was his birthday and that a birthday was a great and presumably auspicious occasion. His conception of what a birthday ought to be was based primarily... more...

BOOK FIRST ADVENTURES   Lo, in the dance the wine-drenched coronal  From shoulder white and golden hair doth fall!  A-nigh his breast each youth doth hold an head,  Twin flushing cheeks and locks unfilleted;  Swifter and swifter doth the revel move  Athwart the dim recesses of the grove …  Where Aphrodite reigneth in her prime,  And laughter ringeth all the summer time.   There... more...

ACT I It is Ascension Day in a village of the West. In the low panelled hall-sittingroom of the BURLACOMBE'S farmhouse on the village green, MICHAEL STRANGWAY, a clerical collar round his throat and a dark Norfolk jacket on his back, is playing the flute before a very large framed photograph of a woman, which is the only picture on the walls. His age is about thirty-five his figure thin and very... more...

CHAPTER I THE MUSIC "Listen, John—I hear music—" The words came in a gentle whisper from the woman's lips. One white, thin hand lifted itself weakly to the rough face of the man who was kneeling beside her bed, and the great dark eyes from which he had hidden his own grew luminously bright for a moment, as she whispered again: "John—I hear—music—" A sigh fluttered from... more...

THE BLUE LIGHT "Mother, make Ted stop!" "I'm not doing anything at all, Mother!" "Yes he is, too! Please call him in. He's hurting my doll." "Oh, Janet Martin, I am not!" "You are so, Theodore Baradale Martin; and you've just got to stop!" Janet, or Jan, as she was more often called, stood in front of her brother with flashing eyes and red cheeks.... more...

Amiens, Jan. 23, 1795. Nothing proves more that the French republican government was originally founded on principles of despotism and injustice, than the weakness and anarchy which seem to accompany every deviation from these principles. It is strong to destroy and weak to protect: because, deriving its support from the power of the bad and the submission of the timid, it is deserted or opposed by the... more...

ARTICLE ONE.THE OLD ITALIAN SCHOOL OF SINGING.The Shibboleth, or trade cry, of the average modern vocal teacher is "The Old Italian School of Singing." How much of value there is in this may be surmised when we stop to consider that of the many who claim to teach the true Old Italian method no two of them teach at all alike, unless they happen to be pupils of the same master. A system, a... more...

CHAPTER ONE. OATMEAL AND THE SHORTER CATECHISM. The first and most-serious-but-one ordeal in the life of Robert Chalmers Fordyce—so Robert Chalmers himself informed me years afterwards—was the examination for the Bursary which he gained at Edinburgh University. A bursary is what an English undergraduate would call a "Schol." (Imagine a Scottish student talking about a "Burse"!)... more...

CHAPTER I. DUDIE DUNNE PLAYS A GREAT TRICK TO RUN DOWN A CRIMINAL—AS SIMPLE JOHN HE APPEARS INNOCENT, BUT WHEN HIS MASK GOES OFF THE "FUR FLIES." "Oh, fellers, look at this! he's strayed or stolen; let's go for him." A group of little toughs were gathered at a street corner in a low locality in the city of New York when a dude of the first water with the regular Anglo step... more...