Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. He was the most beautiful prince that ever was born. Being a prince, people said this; and it was true. When he looked at the candle, his eyes had an earnest expression quite startling in a new-born baby. His nose was aquiline; his complexion was healthy; he was round, fat, and straight-limbed—a splendid baby. His father and mother, King and Queen of Nomansland, and their subjects were... more...

Chapter I. "'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you; 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas." Taming of the Shrew. There is nothing in which American Liberty, not always as much restrained as it might be, has manifested a more decided tendency to run riot, than in the use of names. As for Christian names, the Heathen Mythology, the Bible, Ancient History, and all the classics,... more...

ROB ROY's GRAVE. The History of Rob Roy is sufficiently known; his Grave is near the head of Loch Ketterine, in one of those small Pin-fold-like Burial-grounds, of neglected and desolate appearance, which the Traveller meets with in the Highlands of Scotland.   A famous Man is Robin Hood,  The English Ballad-singer's joy!  And Scotland has a Thief as good,  An Outlaw of as daring... more...

TO HILAIRE BELLOC For every tiny town or placeGod made the stars especially;Babies look up with owlish faceAnd see them tangled in a tree:You saw a moon from Sussex Downs,A Sussex moon, untravelled still,I saw a moon that was the town's,The largest lamp on Campden Hill. Yea; Heaven is everywhere at homeThe big blue cap that always fits,And so it is (be calm; they comeTo goal at last, my wandering... more...

THE BOY THE ELF Sunday, March twentieth. Once there was a boy. He was—let us say—something like fourteen years old; long and loose-jointed and towheaded. He wasn't good for much, that boy. His chief delight was to eat and sleep; and after that—he liked best to make mischief. It was a Sunday morning and the boy's parents were getting ready to go to church. The boy sat on the edge of the... more...

Chapter I All is quiet in Moscow. The squeak of wheels is seldom heard in the snow-covered street. There are no lights left in the windows and the street lamps have been extinguished. Only the sound of bells, borne over the city from the church towers, suggests the approach of morning. The streets are deserted. At rare intervals a night-cabman's sledge kneads up the snow and sand in the street as... more...

PREFACE. HE object of this book is to explain the modern systems of Book and Newspaper Illustration, and especially the methods of drawing for what is commonly called “process,” on which so many artists are now engaged. There is almost a revolution in illustration at the present time, and both old and young—teachers and scholars—are in want of a handbook for reference when turning to the new... more...

CHAPTER I. THE MEETING OF MR. WORLD AND MISS CHURCH-MEMBER 1. The dying of a century compared to the waning of a day. 2. The allegory opens with a panoramic view of human life, as seen through the open door of the twentieth century, on the Broad Highway and King's Highway. Blackana is introduced. 3. Mr. World meets Miss Church-Member at a place called Fellowship. From here she journeys with him on... more...

CHAPTER I. CHILD-STUDY. Oneness with Nature is the glory of Childhood; oneness with Childhood is the glory of the Teacher.—G. Stanley Hall.   Homes ont l'estre comme metaulx,  Vie et augment des vegetaulx,  Instinct et sens comme les bruts,  Esprit comme anges en attributs.  [Man has as attributes: Being like metals,  Life and growth like plants,  Instinct and sense like... more...

I: ABOUT THIS TRANSLATION It was with considerable reluctance that I abandoned in favour of the present undertaking what had long been a favourite project: that of a new edition of Shelton's "Don Quixote," which has now become a somewhat scarce book. There are some—and I confess myself to be one—for whom Shelton's racy old version, with all its defects, has a charm that no modern... more...