Fiction Books

THE COMRADES' TRYST "A bowl of claret, Father Korn." The raucous voice of big Ernestine rose above the hubbub in the smoke-begrimed tavern. "Some claret, and let it be good," repeated the drab, a big, fair damsel with puckered eyes and features worn by dissipation. Father Korn had heard the first time, but he was in no hurry to comply with the order. He was a bald, whiskered giant,... more...

Old Prof Stegner never foresaw the complications his selective anti-gravitational field would cause. Knowing the grand old man as I did, I can say that he never intended his "blessing" should become the curse to mankind that it did. And the catastrophe it brought about was certainly beyond range of all prophecy. Of course, anyone who lived in 1972 and tried to get inside Stegner's weird... more...

HOOKER 1586-1647 THE ACTIVITY OF FAITH; OR, ABRAHAM'S IMITATORS And the father of circumcision to them who are not of circumcision only, but who also walk in the steps of that faith of our father Abraham, which he had, being yet uncircumcized.—Romans iv., 12. I proceed now to show who those are, that may, and do indeed, receive benefit as Abraham did. The text saith, "They that walk in the... more...

"The knife hangs loose in the sheath."—Old Norsk Proverb. I spent a month of the summer of 188- in Norway—"Old Norway"—and a friend of mine, Dr. John Robson, who is as great a fisherman as he is a physician, and knows that I love a stream where the trout and I can meet each other alone, and have it out face to face, uninterrupted by any interlopers, did me a favor to which I was... more...

PREFACE. I must confess that I offer this romance to the reading public with no little trepidation. I am fully aware of having transcended the ordinary rules and paths of legitimate romance, and that I have presumed to broach fearlessly the deep things of God. The scope of the work is infinitely beyond the remotest thought of the writer when he began this labor; but as it grew, deepened and broadened... more...

Part I Happy in the hope that the news was "exclusive", the Despatch had thrown the name of Stephen Hallowell, his portrait, a picture of his house, and the words, "At Point of Death!" across three columns. The announcement was heavy, lachrymose, bristling with the melancholy self-importance of the man who "saw the deceased, just two minutes before the train hit him." But the... more...

CHAPTER IWHY THE PRINCESS HAS A STORY ABOUT HERTHERE was once a little princess who—"But, Mr. Author, why do you always write about princesses?" "Because every little girl is a princess." "You will make them vain if you tell them that." "Not if they understand what I mean." "Then what do you mean?" "What do you mean by a princess?" "The daughter... more...

'Then, by Heaven! I'll leave the country. I won't stop here to be bullied for doing what scores of other fellows have done and nothing thought about it. It's unjust, it's intolerable—' Thus spoke impetuous Youth. 'I should say something would depend upon the family tradition of the "other fellows" to whom you refer. In ours gambling debts and shady... more...

CHAPTER I. The night passed away without further event on board the schooner, yet in all the anxiety that might be supposed incident to men so perilously situated. Habits of long-since acquired superstition, too powerful to be easily shaken off, moreover contributed to the dejection of the mariners, among whom there were not wanting those who believed the silent steersman was in reality what their... more...

CHAPTER I HER FATHER'S PLAN "How old are you, Patty?" asked her father, abruptly. "Fourteen, papa,—why?" "My conscience! what a great girl you're getting to be. Stand up and let me look at you." Patty Fairfield, with two twists and a spring, brought herself to her feet, and stood awaiting her father's inspection. He saw a slender, graceful girl, a Southern... more...