Fiction Books

INTRODUCTION LAST summer I happened to be crossing the plains of Iowa in a season of intense heat, and it was my good fortune to have for a traveling companion James Quayle Burden—Jim Burden, as we still call him in the West. He and I are old friends—we grew up together in the same Nebraska town—and we had much to say to each other. While the train flashed through never-ending miles of ripe... more...

PART I It is a great thing for a lad when he is first turned into the independence of lodgings. I do not think I ever was so satisfied and proud in my life as when, at seventeen, I sate down in a little three-cornered room above a pastry-cook's shop in the county town of Eltham. My father had left me that afternoon, after delivering himself of a few plain precepts, strongly expressed, for my... more...

Ef you don't knowDoc SifersI'll jes argy, here and now,You've bin a mighty little while about here, anyhow!'Cause Doc he's rid these roads and woods—erswum'em, now and then—And practised in this neighberhood sence hain't no tellin' when! IIIn radius o' fifteen mile'd, all p'ints o' compass round,No man er woman, chick er child, er team, on... more...

CHAPTER I. DEFINITION.—EVERY PERSON HAS SOME SPECIAL VOCATION. Q. What is a vocation? A. A call from God to some state of life. Q. Which are the principal states of life? A. Matrimony, virginity, the religious state, and the priesthood. Q. Has every person a vocation? A. Yes; God gives a special vocation to each person. Q. How is this doctrine proved? A. St. Paul says: "Every one hath his proper... more...

CHAPTER I. The breaking waves dashed highOn a stern and rock-hound coast:And the woods against a stormy sky,Their giant branches tost.And the heavy night hung darkThe hills and waters o'er,When a hand of exiles moored their barkOn the wild New England shore. HEMANS. It was, indeed, a stern and rock-bound coast beneath which the gallant little Mayflower furled her tattered sails, and dropped her... more...

1. The Way to Butterfield "Please, miss," said the shaggy man, "can you tell me the road to Butterfield?" Dorothy looked him over. Yes, he was shaggy, all right, but there was a twinkle in his eye that seemed pleasant. "Oh yes," she replied; "I can tell you. But it isn't this road at all." "No?" "You cross the ten-acre lot, follow the lane to the... more...

CHAPTER I. When the idea of a removal to Virginia was first mooted in the family of General Percival Smith, ex-Brigadier in the United States service, it was received with consternation and a perfect storm of disapproval. The young ladies, Norma and Blanche, rose as one woman—loud in denunciation, vehement in protest—fell upon the scheme, and verbally sought to annihilate it. The country! A farm!!... more...

CHAPTER I. HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. We are at Como, on the lake—that spot so beloved of opera dancers—the day-dream of prima donnas—the Elysium of retired barytones! And with what reason should this be the Paradise of all who have lived and sighed, and warbled and pirouetted, within the charmed circle of the footlights? The crystal waters mirroring every cliff and crag with intense... more...

CHAPTERONE           He watched from the quarterdeck as the chain fed through the whitecaps of the bay, its staccato clatter muffled, hollow in the midday heat. Then he sensed the anchor grab and felt an uneasy tremor pass along the hull as the links snapped taut against the tide. The cannon were already run in and cooling, but vagrant threads of smoke still traced skyward through the scuttles... more...

Thursday the Nineteenth Splash!... That's me, Matilda Anne! That's me falling plump into the pool of matrimony before I've had time to fall in love! And oh, Matilda Anne, Matilda Anne, I've got to talk to you! You may be six thousand miles away, but still you've got to be my safety-valve. I'd blow up and explode if I didn't express myself to some one. For it's so... more...