Fiction Books

Chapter I The Miracle Kazan lay mute and motionless, his gray nose between his forepaws, his eyes half closed. A rock could have appeared scarcely less lifeless than he; not a muscle twitched; not a hair moved; not an eyelid quivered. Yet every drop of the wild blood in his splendid body was racing in a ferment of excitement that Kazan had never before experienced; every nerve and fiber of his... more...

CHAPTER I. "Where did you come from, Baby dear?Out of the everywhere into here?"But how did you come to us, you dear?God thought about you, and so I am here!" G. Macdonald. His real name was Fabian. But he was never called anything but Carrots. There were six of them. Jack, Cecil, Louise, Maurice, commonly called Mott, Floss, dear, dear Floss, whom he loved best of all, a long way the best... more...

CHAPTER 1. One afternoon, far out on the sun-baked waste of sage, we made camp near a clump of withered pinyon trees. The cold desert wind came down upon us with the sudden darkness. Even the Mormons, who were finding the trail for us across the drifting sands, forgot to sing and pray at sundown. We huddled round the campfire, a tired and silent little group. When out of the lonely, melancholy night... more...

POMONA'S TRAVELS This series of letters, written by Pomona of "Rudder Grange" to her former mistress, Euphemia, may require a few words of introduction. Those who have not read the adventures and experiences of Pomona in "Rudder Grange" should be told that she first appeared in that story as a very young and illiterate girl, fond of sensational romances, and with some... more...

A CRIMEAN NIGHT Lieutenant Sutch was the first of General Feversham's guests to reach Broad Place. He arrived about five o'clock on an afternoon of sunshine in mid June, and the old red-brick house, lodged on a southern slope of the Surrey hills, was glowing from a dark forest depth of pines with the warmth of a rare jewel. Lieutenant Sutch limped across the hall, where the portraits of the... more...

CHAPTER I.   Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place  Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?—LAMB. IT was towards the evening of a day in early April that two ladies were seated by the open windows of a cottage in Devonshire. The lawn before them was gay with evergreens, relieved by the first few flowers and fresh turf of the reviving spring; and at a distance, through an opening... more...

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES THE CRUMPS. IT was drawing towards the close of the last day of the year. A few hours more, and 1836 would be no more. It was a cold day. There was no snow on the ground, but it was frozen into stiff ridges, making it uncomfortable to walk upon. The sun had been out all day, but there was little heat or comfort in its bright, but frosty beams. The winter is a hard season for the... more...

Once upon a time a lion dropped his paw upon a mouse. “Please let me live!” begged the mouse, “and some day I will do as much for you.” “That is so funny,” roared the king of beasts, “that we will release you. We had no idea mice had a sense of humor.” And then, as you remember, the lion was caught in the net of the hunter, and struggled, and fought, and struck blindly, until his spirit... more...

LIFE OF ISAAC T. HOPPER Isaac Tatem Hopper was born in Deptford Township, near Woodbury, West New-Jersey, in the year 1771, on the third day of December, which Quakers call the Twelfth Month. His grandfather belonged to that denomination of Christians, but forfeited membership in the Society by choosing a wife from another sect. His son Levi, the father of Isaac, always attended their meetings, but... more...

I THE RAVAGES OF A CARPET “My dear, it’s so cheap!” These words were spoken by my wife, as she sat gracefully on a roll of Brussels carpet which was spread out in flowery lengths on the floor of Messrs. Ketchem & Co. “It’s so cheap!” Milton says that the love of fame is the last infirmity of noble minds. I think he had not rightly considered the subject. I believe that last infirmity is... more...