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Fiction Books
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                                 INTRODUCTION This book is for the greater part a collection of Hawaiian songs and poetic pieces that have done service from time immemorial as the stock supply of the hula. The descriptive portions have been added, not because the poetical parts could not stand by themselves, but to furnish the proper setting and to answer the questions of those who want to know. Now, the hula stood for very much to...
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                by: 
                                Michael Barrett                                
            
        
                                 I PERSONAL   Forest and meadow and hill, and the steel-blue rim of the ocean  Lying silent and sad, in the afternoon shadows and sunshine.          (Longfellow—"Miles Standish") Val and I, being twins, have always been looked upon as inseparables. True, we have been often forced apart during life's course; yet, somehow, we have always managed to drift back again into the...
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                                 CHAPTER I      "From Wimbleton to Wombleton is fifteen miles,      From Wombleton to Wimbleton is fifteen miles,      From Wombleton to Wimbleton,      From Wimbleton to Wombleton,      From WombletonвÐâto WimbletonвÐâis fifвÐâteen miles!" The cheery singing ended abruptly with the collapse of the singer upon a particularly inviting...
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                                 UP! HORSIE! A young peasant was riding to market on a stout, well-fed nag, when he overtook an old Scotch shepherd, who was trudging along on foot. "I say, Sandy," cried the young man, "if you go no faster than that, market will be over before you get to town." The Scotchman turned round, and peered at him from under his bushy eyebrows, saying in a strong north country accent: "Gin...
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                by: 
                                J. Carter Beard                                
            
        
                                 I. TRAMPS WITH AN ENTHUSIAST. To a brain wearied by the din of the city, the clatter of wheels, the jingle of street cars, the discord of bells, the cries of venders, the ear-splitting whistles of factory and shop, how refreshing is the heavenly stillness of the country! To the soul tortured by the sight of ills it cannot cure, wrongs it cannot right, and sufferings it cannot relieve, how blessed to be...
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                                 INTRODUCTION. The best parallel to the conduct of the silly ostrich, that thrusts her head into a thicket, or the sand, and fancies she is thereby hidden from view, occurred some years since in the village of Catskill. A printer, who was neither an observer of the Sabbath, nor a member of the Temperance Society, went to a grocery one Sunday morning for a bottle of gin. On coming out of the dram-shop,...
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                by: 
                                Diane Dillon                                
            
        
                                 The sight of an Earthman on Vega III, where it was impossible for an outlander to be, brought angry crowds to surround John Crownwall as he strode toward the palace of Viceroy Tronn Ffallk, ruler of Sector XII of the Universal Holy Empire of Sunda. He ignored the snarling, the spitting, the waving of boneless prehensile fingers, as he ignored the heavy gravity and heavier air of the unfamiliar planet....
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                by: 
                                Bret Harte                                
            
        
                                 A VENERABLE IMPOSTOR. As I glance across my table, I am somewhat distracted by the spectacle of a venerable head whose crown occasionally appears beyond, at about its level. The apparition of a very small hand—whose fingers are bunchy and have the appearance of being slightly webbed—which is frequently lifted above the table in a vain and impotent attempt to reach the inkstand, always affects me as...
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                                 CHAPTER I It began with Jerry’s finishing off all the olives that were left, “like a pig would do,” as Greg said. His finishing the olives left us the bottle, of course, and there is only one natural thing to do with an empty olive-bottle when you’re on a water picnic. That is, to write a message as though you were a shipwrecked mariner, and seal it up in the bottle and chuck it as far out as...
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                by: 
                                John Stuart Mill                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I. GENERAL REMARKS.There are few circumstances among those which make up the present condition of human knowledge, more unlike what might have been expected, or more significant of the backward state in which speculation on the most important subjects still lingers, than the little progress which has been made in the decision of the controversy respecting the criterion of right and wrong. From...
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