Fiction Books

A RUSSIAN FAIRY TALE The old wife sang merrily as she sat in the inglenook stirring the soup, for she had never felt so sad. Many, many years had come and gone, leaving the weight of their winters on her shoulders and the touch of snow on her hair without ever bringing her a little child. This made her and her dear old husband very sad, for there were many children outside, playing in the snow. It... more...

INTRODUCTION. While Prudy was in Indiana visiting the Cliffords, and in the midst of her trials with mosquitoes, she said one day,— “I wouldn’t cry, Aunt ’Ria, only my heart’s breaking. The very next person that ever dies, I wish they’d ask God to please stop sending these awful skeeters. I can’t bear ’em any longer, now, certainly.” There was a look of utter despair on Prudy’s... more...

CHAPTER I "Adventure," Rick Brant said, "is kind of hard to define, because what may be adventure to one person may be commonplace to another." He took a bite of cake and stretched his long legs comfortably. "Now, you take flying with Scotty. That's the most adventurous thing I do." Mr. and Mrs. Brant and Jerry Webster looked at Don Scott, the object of Rick's jibe,... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCES THE MUMMY "Oh, what a perfectly lovely mummy! Just fancy!—the poor thing—dead how many years? Something like five thousand, isn't it? And doesn't she look just like me! I mean, wouldn't she, if we had both been dead as long?" As she said this, Miss Nitocris Marmion, the golden-haired, black-eyed daughter of one of the most celebrated mathematicians and... more...

Jame Retief, vice-consul and third secretary in the Diplomatic Corps, followed the senior members of the terrestrial mission across the tarmac and into the gloom of the reception building. The gray-skinned Yill guide who had met the arriving embassy at the foot of the ramp hurried away. The councillor, two first secretaries and the senior attaches gathered around the ambassador, their ornate uniforms... more...

CHAPTER I A CONNOISSEUR'S VAGARY "Hello!" I said, as I took down the receiver of my desk 'phone, in answer to the call. "Mr. Vantine wishes to speak to you, sir," said the office-boy. "All right," and I heard the snap of the connection. "Is that you, Lester?" asked Philip Vantine's voice. "Yes. So you're back again?" "Got in yesterday. Can... more...

TERRY CHAPTER I THE FOX The frosty silence of the snow-mantled hills was rent by the vicious crack of a high-powered, small-calibered rifle. The hunter sprang from the thicket in which he had lain concealed and crossed the gully to a knoll where a black furry bundle had dropped to the snow after one convulsive leap. Exultant, Terry bent down to examine the silky black coat. "Right through the ear.... more...

Preface. By Barnaby Brine, Esq, RN. The “Cruise of the ‘Frolic’” has already met with so many marks of favour, that it is hoped it will be welcomed not the less warmly in its new and more attractive form. The yachting world especially received the narrative of my adventures in good part; two or three, however, among whom was the O’Wiggins, insisted that I had caricatured them,... more...

ACT I. SCENE I.—The Street before DON JEROME'S House. Enter LOPEZ, with a dark lantern. Lop. Past three o'clock!—Soh! a notable hour for one of my regular disposition, to be strolling like a bravo through the streets of Seville! Well, of all services, to serve a young lover is the hardest.—Not that I am an enemy to love; but my love and my master's differ strangely.—Don Ferdinand... more...

Andy Larson was a hard-headed Swede. He had to be, to be still alive. He hadn't been able to move anything but that hard head for what he estimated to be about three hours since he regained consciousness. And in that time he hadn't heard anything that led him to believe anyone else had survived the crash. The only thing Andy Larson had heard was the water and the far-away whine of the patrol... more...