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Fiction Books
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Henry Austin
The Star of the North. The sun sank below the horizon that evening in a blaze of ruby and gold. It flooded the whole ocean to the westward, right up to the very zenith, with a wealth of opalescent light that transformed sea and sky alike into a living glory, so grand and glorious was the glowing harmony of kaleidoscopic colouring which lit up the arc of heaven and the wide waste of water beneath,...
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Algernon Blackwood Sept. 4.—I have hunted all over London for rooms suited to my income—£120 a year—and have at last found them. Two rooms, without modern conveniences, it is true, and in an old, ramshackle building, but within a stone's throw of P— Place and in an eminently respectable street. The rent is only £25 a year. I had begun to despair when at last I found them by chance. The...
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Richard made an early start that morning in search of employment, and duplicated the failure of the previous day. Nobody wanted him. If nobody wanted him in the village where he was born and bred, a village of counting-rooms and workshops, was any other place likely to need him? He had only one hope, if it could be called a hope; at any rate, he had treated it tenderly as such and kept it for the last....
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CHAPTER I Dressed in a plain white shirt waist and an equally plain black cloth skirt, Miss Hazel Weir, on week days, was merely a unit in the office force of Harrington & Bush, implement manufacturers. Neither in personality nor in garb would a casual glance have differentiated her from the other female units, occupied at various desks. A close observer might have noticed that she was a bit...
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How well I remember my first meeting with Tekahionwake, the Indian girl! I see her yet as she stood in all ways the ideal type of her race, lithe and active, with clean-cut aquiline features, olive-red complexion and long dark hair; but developed by her white-man training so that the shy Indian girl had given place to the alert, resourceful world-woman, at home equally in the salons of the rich and...
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A JUNE WATER The train, a special, made up of a private car and a diner, was running on a slow order and crawled between the bluffs at a snail's pace. Ahead, the sun was sinking into the foothills and wherever the eye could reach to the horizon barren wastes lay riotously green under the golden blaze. The river, swollen everywhere out of its banks, spread in a broad and placid flood of yellow over...
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Max Beerbohm
When a book about the literature of the eighteen-nineties was given by Mr. Holbrook Jackson to the world, I looked eagerly in the index for Soames, Enoch. It was as I feared: he was not there. But everybody else was. Many writers whom I had quite forgotten, or remembered but faintly, lived again for me, they and their work, in Mr. Holbrook Jackson's pages. The book was as thorough as it was...
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John McElroy
CHAPTER I. DARK DAYS OF 1861.—A FATHER WHO GAVE HIS CHILDREN TO THECOUNTRY.—RALLYING TO THE FLAG.—RAISING VOLUNTEERS INSOUTHERN INDIANA. "The more solitary, the more friendless, the moreunsustained I am, the more I will respect and rely uponmyself."—Charlotte Bronte ALLENTOWN is a beautiful little city of 10,000 inhabitants, situated on the Wabash River, in Vigo County, Ind., in the...
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Gustave Dore
Most illustrious and thrice valorous champions, gentlemen and others, who willingly apply your minds to the entertainment of pretty conceits and honest harmless knacks of wit; you have not long ago seen, read, and understood the great and inestimable Chronicle of the huge and mighty giant Gargantua, and, like upright faithfullists, have firmly believed all to be true that is contained in them, and have...
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Love Instigated. It was a daisy bit of Ivory. It was a curious piece of Workmanship. It was carved and carved again with Conventional Lines, which formed a Female Head of East-Indian Unexceptionableness. It seemed to Smile and to Beckon, and then to Scowl repellantly—a Living Mockery! It was Hateful—Oh, so Hateful!—the sight Of so conventional a Thing. And yet there had been such a Longing to...
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