Fiction Books

INTRODUCTION TO THEFIRST EDITION The favourable reception given to my volume of Russian Fairy Tales has encouraged me to follow it up with a sister volume of stories selected from another Slavonic dialect extraordinarily rich in folk-tales––I mean Ruthenian, the language of the Cossacks. Ruthenian is a language intermediate between Russian and Polish, but quite independent of both. Its territory... more...

Prefatory Note. The present English version of Erasmus' Colloquies is a reprint of the translation of N. Bailey, the compiler of a well-known Dictionary. In his Preface Bailey says, "I have labour'd to give such a Translation as might in the general, be capable of being compar'd with the Original, endeavouring to avoid running into a paraphrase: but keeping as close to the original... more...

Roman Capital and Small Letters. A B C D E F G H I J K LM N O P Q R S T UV W X Y Z a b e d e f g h i j k l m n o p q rs t u v w x y z æ œ & A B C D E F G H I J K L MN O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z a b e d e f g h i j k l m n o p q rs t u v w x y z æ œ &         To see a butcher kill a hog, is no news;But to see a hare run after a dog, is strange indeed!This hare hunts the dog,Tho' all of... more...

HOW BUNNY BROUGHT GOOD LUCK. IT was Midsummer's Day, that delightful point toward which the whole year climbs, and from which it slips off like an ebbing wave in the direction of the distant winter. No wonder that superstitious people in old times gave this day to the fairies, for it is the most beautiful day of all. The world seems full of bird-songs, sunshine, and flower-smells then; storm and... more...

CHAPTER 1. Lost in a Blizzard. "Rowdy" Vaughan—he had been christened Rowland by his mother, and rechristened Rowdy by his cowboy friends, who are prone to treat with much irreverence the names bestowed by mothers—was not happy. He stood in the stirrups and shook off the thick layer of snow which clung, damp and close-packed, to his coat. The dull yellow folds were full of it; his gray hat,... more...

Chapter I. It was seven o'clock in the morning when Herr von Niebeldingk opened the iron gate and stepped into the front garden whose wall of blossoming bushes separated the house from the street. The sun of a May morning tinted the greyish walls with gold, and caused the open window-panes to flash with flame. The master directed a brief glance at the second story whence floated the dull sound of... more...

THE MARTYR SEX.   Ever since that unfortunate affair in which the mother of mankind was so prominently concerned, the female sex might say, with Shylock, 'Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.' They are, in fact, an incarnation of the Passive Voice—no mistake about it. 'Ah, gentle dames, it gars me greet,' as Burns pathetically says, to think on all the hardships and... more...

My Dear Brother: You did well to stay West. Would to God I had! Julia's big party came off last night. I told her weeks ago, when she began insinuating it, that if it must be it must be, of course, and that I would pay all the bills, but I wished it distinctly understood I wouldn't have anything else to do with it. She assured me that nothing whatever would be expected of me. Unfortunately,... more...

CHAPTER I. THE BEGINNING OF A MARVELOUS JOURNEY. “Dick! Dick! Wake up, I want to tell you something.” Marjorie stood outside the boy’s bedroom door, and called in as loud a whisper as she dared, fearing lest she should awaken the rest of the household. There was a scuffle and a patter of bare feet inside, and Dick appeared at the door rubbing his eyes, evidently only half awake. “What’s... more...

SCARLET LIGHTS This story presents the fulfillment of an extraordinary prophecy made one night, suddenly and dramatically, at a gathering of New Yorkers, brought together for hilarious purposes, including a little supper, in the Washington Square apartment of Bobby Vallis—her full name was Roberta. There were soft lights and low divans and the strumming of a painted ukulele that sang its little... more...