Fiction Books

Chapter I Her Earlier Memories If old Jeremy Clapp had not sneezed his teeth into the fire that winter day this story might have had a more seemly beginning; but, being a true record, it must start with that sneeze, because it was the first happening in Georgina Huntingdon's life which she could remember distinctly. She was in her high-chair by a window overlooking a gray sea, and with a bib under... more...

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS For permission to reprint the stories in this volume, acknowledgement is made to the owners of the copyrights, as follows: For "The Right Promethean Fire," to Mrs. Atwood, R. Martin and Doubleday, Page & Company. For "The Land of Heart's Desire," to Messrs. Doubleday, Page & Company. For "The Tenor," to Alice I. Bunner and to Charles Scribners'... more...

CHAPTER I PISKARET THE ADIRONDACK CHAMPION (1644) HOW HE SCOUTED AGAINST THE IROQUOIS It was in early spring, about the year 1644, that the warrior Piskaret of the Adirondack tribe of the Algonkins set forth alone from the island Allumette in the Ottawa River, Canada, to seek his enemies the Iroquois. For there long had been bitter, bitter war between the vengeful Algonkins[] and the cruel Hurons on... more...

CHAPTER I. AFTER OFFICE HOURS IN THE HOUSE OF DUNBAR, DUNBAR, AND BALDERBY. The house of Dunbar, Dunbar, and Balderby, East India bankers, was one of the richest firms in the city of London--so rich that it would be quite in vain to endeavour to describe the amount of its wealth. It was something fabulous, people said. The offices were situated in a dingy and narrow thoroughfare leading out of King... more...

MORIEN A Metrical Romance rendered into English prose from the Mediæval Dutch by Jessie L. Weston, with designs by Caroline Watts. Preface The metrical romance of which the following pages offer a prose translation is contained in the mediæval Dutch version of the Lancelot, where it occupies upwards of five thousand lines, forming the conclusion of the first existing volume of that compilation. So... more...

And it was at the hour of sunset that they came to the foot of the mountain. There was in that place no sign of life,—neither token of water, nor trace of plant, nor shadow of flying bird,— nothing but desolation rising to desolation. And the summit was lost in heaven. Then the Bodhisattva said to his young companion:—"What you have asked to see will be shown to you. But the place of the... more...

CHAPTER I. And look how many Grecian tents do standHollow upon this plain—so many hollow factions.Troilus and Cressida. In a hollow of the hill, about a quarter of a mile from the field of battle, was a shepherd's hut; a miserable cottage, which, as the only enclosed spot within a moderate distance, the leaders of the presbyterian army had chosen for their council-house. Towards this spot Burley... more...

ARMS AND THE MAID Through the gateway flanked by tall recruiting posters came rather hurriedly a youth of no great stature, but of sturdy build and comely enough countenance, including bright brown eyes and fresh complexion. Though the dull morning was coldish, perspiration might have been detected on his forehead. Crossing the street, without glance to right or left, he increased his pace; also, he... more...

CHAPTER I "ZINSHEIMER, OF NEW YORK" Stick a pin in the map of southern Indiana, half an inch to the left of Lost River, and about six hours from the rest of the world, as time is used to measure railroad journeys, and you will find a speck called French Lick Springs. Hidden away in the hills, so remote from the centers of civilization that only wealthy inebriates and chronic invalids can afford... more...

IN IDLE MOMENT "'Are you not frequently idle?' 'Never, brother. When we are not engaged in our traffic we are engaged in our relaxations.'"—BORROW. On the smooth beaches and in the silent bush, where time is not regulated by formalities or shackled by conventions, there delicious lapses—fag-ends of the day to be utilised in a dreamy mood which observes and accepts the... more...