Fiction Books

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by: Mor Jokai
CHAPTER I.THE IRON GATE. A mountain-chain, pierced through from base to summit—a gorge four miles in length, walled in by lofty precipices; between their dizzy heights the giant stream of the Old World, the Danube. Did the pressure of this mass of water force a passage for itself, or was the rock riven by subterranean fire? Did Neptune or Vulcan, or both together, execute this supernatural work,... more...

  pair of words I heartily detest are noble and redman, particularly when they occur together. Some of my egghead friends from the Hub tell me that I shouldn't, since they're merely an ancient colloquialism used to describe a race of aborigines on the American land mass. The American land mass? Where? Why—on Earth, of course—where would ancestors come from? Yes—I know it's not... more...

ark knew he shouldn't stop. He was already late for Jennette's birthday party, but the sight of three people out in the open like this was too much. He pulled around and hovered over the undulating flow of glassy magma, frozen on its way to the long, dry Potomac river bed, with its shallow caverns and fascinating mile-wide potholes. Just under an overhanging cliff of half-vitrified soil were... more...

THE BACKGROUND. The fifty years of Dryden's literary production just fill the last half of the seventeenth century. It was a period bristling with violent political and religious prejudices, provocative of strife that amounted to revolution. Its social life ran the gamut from the severity of the Commonwealth Puritan to the unbridled debauchery of the Restoration Courtier. In literature it... more...

THE ROMANCE OF IRISH HISTORY By SIR ROGER CASEMENT, C.M.G. The history of Ireland remains to be written, for the purpose of Irishmen remains yet to be achieved. The struggle for national realization, begun so many centuries ago, is not ended; and if the long story offers a so frequent record of failure, it offers a continuous appeal to the highest motives and a constant exhibition of a most pathetic... more...

CHAPTER I THE STOLEN MOTOR "You are aware, I suppose, Marshall, that there have been considerably over a million dollars' worth of automobiles stolen in this city during the past few months?" asked Guy Garrick one night when I had dropped into his office. "I wasn't aware of the exact extent of the thefts, though of course I knew of their existence," I replied. "What's... more...

CHAPTER I.NEWSPAPER PEOPLE. What would the Englishman do without his newspaper I cannot imagine.  The sun might just as well refuse to shine, as the press refuse to turn out its myriads of newspapers.  Conversation would cease at once.  Brown, with his morning paper in his hand, has very decided opinions indeed,—can tell you what the French Emperor is about,—what the Pope will be compelled to... more...

CHAPTER I THE LAMB'S WISH Out of his box the Jack popped his head. The funny, black fringe of whiskers around his face jiggled up and down. His queer, big eyes looked around the store. "Hurray!" cried the Jack in the Box. "We are alone at last and now we can have some fun! Hurray!" "Are you sure?" asked a Bold Tin Soldier, who stood at the head of a company of his men in a... more...

Gr-r-r! There he goes again! Brother Ambrose could scarce restrain the hatred that seethed and churned in his breast, as his smallish eyes followed Brother Lorenzo headed once more for his beloved geraniums, the inevitable watering-pot gripped in both hands, the inevitable devotions rising in a whispered stream from his saintly lips. The very fact the man lived was a mockery to human justice:... more...

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD Once upon a time there lived a king and queen who were grieved, more grieved than words can tell, because they had no children. They tried the waters of every country, made vows and pilgrimages, and did everything that could be done, but without result. At last, however, the queen found that her wishes were fulfilled, and in due course she gave birth to a daughter. A... more...