Fiction Books

CHAPTER I.   THERE is continual spring and harvest here—    Continual, both meeting at one time;  For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear,    And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime;  And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,    Which seem to labour under their fruit's load. SPENSER: The Garden of Adonis.                     Vis boni  In ipsa... 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...

PREFACE. In my first novel, "The Shadow of a Crime," I tried to penetrate into the soul of a brave, unselfish, long-suffering man, and to lay bare the processes by which he raised himself to a great height of self-sacrifice. In this novel the aim has been to penetrate into the soul of a bad man, and to lay bare the processes by which he is tempted to his fall. To find a character that shall be... 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. OLD Lady Lydiard sat meditating by the fireside, with three letters lying open on her lap. Time had discolored the paper, and had turned the ink to a brownish hue. The letters were all addressed to the same person—"THE RT. HON. LORD LYDIARD"—and were all signed in the same way—"Your affectionate cousin, James Tollmidge." Judged by these specimens of his correspondence,... 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...