Fiction Books

Walking close along the wall, to avoid the creaking floor boards, Philo Gubb, paper-hanger and student of the Rising Sun Detective Agency’s Correspondence School of Detecting, tiptoed to the door of the bedroom he shared with the mysterious Mr. Critz. In appearance Mr. Gubb was tall and gaunt, reminding one of a modern Don Quixote or a human flamingo; by nature Mr. Gubb was the gentlest and most... more...

OVERWORK AND RECREATION—OUTING AND OUTERS HOW TO DO IT, AND WHY THEY MISS IT t does not need that Herbert Spencer should cross the ocean to tell us that we are an overworked nation; that our hair turns gray ten years earlier than the Englishman's; or, "that we have had somewhat too much of the gospel of work," and, "it is time to preach the gospel of relaxation." It is all... more...

BY RANDALL GARRETT Any war is made up of a horde of personal tragedies—but the greater picture is the tragedy of the death of a way of life. For a way of life—good, bad, or indifferent—exists because it is dearly loved.... Illustrated by van Dongen Anketam stretched his arms out as though he were trying to embrace the whole world. He pushed himself up on his tiptoes, arched his back, and gave out... more...

THE LIFTED BANDAGE The man let himself into his front door and, staggering lightly, like a drunken man, as he closed it, walked to the hall table, and mechanically laid down his hat, but still wearing his overcoat turned and went into his library, and dropped on the edge of a divan and stared out through the leaded panes of glass across the room facing him. The grayish skin of his face seemed to fall... more...

The chief of protocol said, "Mr. Hudson of—ah—Mastodonia." The secretary of state held out his hand. "I'm glad to see you, Mr. Hudson. I understand you've been here several times." "That's right," said Hudson. "I had a hard time making your people believe I was in earnest." "And are you, Mr. Hudson?" "Believe me, sir, I would not try to... more...

HERE AND THERE IN OLD BRISTOL. GRAVE OF HANNAH MORE AT WRINGTON, NEAR BRISTOL.The streets of Bristol are, in a modern point of view, narrow and uninviting, yet if the visitor have a liking for the picturesque he will find much to interest him. There are plenty of streets crammed with old-time houses, thrusting out their upper stories beyond the lower, and with their many-gabled roofs seeming to heave... more...

PREFACE Many years ago my friend and publisher, Mr. Charles Longman, presented me with Le Cabinet des Fées (‘The Fairy Cabinet’). This work almost requires a swinging bookcase for its accommodation, like the Encyclopædia Britannica, and in a revolving bookcase I bestowed the volumes. Circumstances of an intimately domestic character, ‘not wholly unconnected,’ as Mr. Micawber might have said,... more...

"Han'some," said Farmer Joe, having stretched himself on the shady side of the forecastle-deck and set his pipe going, "it 'pear's to me that it's about time we heard what happened to you after you got back to your own ship." "You mean on my whaling voyages, I suppose," said Handsome. "That's a right peert guess," responded Farmer Joe. Handsome... more...

My birth, parentage, and education.—Make the acquaintance of Tom Rockets.—Sent to sea on board the Folkstone cutter, Anno 1764.—Numerous voyages.—My friends and I appear on the quarter-deck of the Torbay, 74.—Join the Falcon.—My only duel.—Adventures in the West Indies.—The Carib war.—Boat capsized.—Fate of her crew.—Appointed to the Wolf. On the north-east side of the street,... more...

  never thought I'd like circus life, but a year of it has changed me. It's in my blood now and I suppose I'll never give it up—even if they'd let me. This job is better than anything I could get in the newspaper racket. I work all summer, it's true, but I get the winter off, though some of the offers for winter work are mighty tempting. Maybe if I hadn't been kicked... more...