Fiction Books

CHAPTER I Everybody knew that Miss Audrey Craven was the original of "Laura," the heroine of Langley Wyndham's masterpiece. She first attracted the attention of that student of human nature at Oxford, at a dinner given by her guardian, the Dean of St. Benedict's, ostensibly in honour of the new Master of Lazarus, in reality for his ward's entertainment and instruction in the... more...

AUGUST FIRST "Whee!" The long fingers pulled at the clerical collar as if they might tear it away. The alert figure swung across the room to the one window not wide open and the man pushed up the three inches possible. "Whee!" he brought out again, boyishly, and thrust away the dusty vines that hung against the opening from the stone walls of the parish house close by. He gasped; looked... more...

A man who has the public good in view, ought not in the least to be alarmed at the tribute of ridicule which scoffers constantly pay to projecting heads. It is the business of a writer, who means well, to go directly forward, without regard to criticism, but to offer his thoughts as they occur; and if in twenty schemes he hits but on one to the purpose, he ought to be excused failing in the nineteen... more...

INTRODUCTION This is the only American edition of my books produced with my sanction, and I have special reasons for thanking Messrs. Scribner for its publication; they let it be seen, by this edition, what are my books, for I know not how many volumes purporting to be by me, are in circulation in America which are no books of mine. I have seen several of these, bearing such titles as "Two of... more...

CHAPTER I. THE SCHOOL-HOUSE. Early this morning I opened a window in my school-house in the glen of Quharity, awakened by the shivering of a starving sparrow against the frosted glass. As the snowy sash creaked in my hand, he made off to the waterspout that suspends its "tangles" of ice over a gaping tank, and, rebounding from that, with a quiver of his little black breast, bobbed through the... more...

A crosser old woman than Mrs. Deborah Thornby was certainly not to be found in the whole village of Hilton. Worth, in country phrase, a power of money, and living (to borrow another rustic expression) upon her means, the exercise of her extraordinary faculty for grumbling and scolding seemed the sole occupation of her existence, her only pursuit, solace, and amusement; and really it would have been a... more...

CHAPTER I. AN ADVERTISEMENT. A small boy with a tiny white dog in his arms stood near the New York approach to the Brooklyn Bridge on a certain June morning not many years since, gazing doubtfully at the living tide which flowed past him, as if questioning whether it might be safe to venture across the street. Seth Barrows, otherwise known by his acquaintances as Limpy Seth, because of what they were... more...

CHAPTER I: GUESSING. "Can you guess," said Louisa to her sister, as they sat at their work in the summer-house, "can you guess what aunt Harding will give us, as a keepsake, before she goes away?" "No, I have not thought about it," said Emma; "and aunt has lately given us so many pretty things, that we can scarcely expect any more for a long time to come. There is my doll... more...

SALLY ANN'S EXPERIENCE ome right in and set down. I was jest wishin' I had somebody to talk to. Take that chair right by the door so's you can get the breeze." And Aunt Jane beamed at me over her silver-rimmed spectacles and hitched her own chair a little to one side, in order to give me the full benefit of the wind that was blowing softly through the white-curtained window, and... more...

CHAPTER I. BETH RECEIVES AN INVITATION. Professor De Graf was sorting the mail at the breakfast table. "Here's a letter for you, Beth," said he, and tossed it across the cloth to where his daughter sat. The girl raised her eyebrows, expressing surprise. It was something unusual for her to receive a letter. She picked up the square envelope between a finger and thumb and carefully read the... more...