Fiction Books

CHAPTER I THE COMPLETE HERO Harry Boyce addressed Queen Anne in glittering verse. She was not present. She had, however, no cause to regret that, for he was tramping the Great North Road at four miles by the hour—a pace far beyond the capacity of Her Majesty's legs; and his verses were Latin—a language not within the capacity of Her Majesty's mind. Her absence gave him no grief. In all... more...

The Wolf Trap. That Oowikapun was unhappy, strangely so, was evident to all in the Indian village. New thoughts deeply affecting him had in some way or other entered into his mind, and he could not but show that they were producing a great change in him. The simple, quiet, monotonous life of the young Indian hunter was curiously broken in upon, and he could never be the same again. There had come a... more...

THE CHINESE VILLAGE There are in India alone over half a million villages. In all Asia, not improbably, there may be four times that number. By far the larger part of the most numerous people on the globe live in villages. The traveller in the Chinese Empire may start from some seaport, as Tientsin, and journey for several months together in the same general direction, before reaching its frontiers on... more...

A PROGRESSIVE BABY. Ober Lahnstein, Jan. 16, 1875. So much, Susie dear, for our small miseries between Blackwall and Rotterdam. Nurse's sickness and the crowd of Cook's tourists (Cook-oos!) aggravated matters; but it is always a tedious bit of way, though I never minded it in my solitary artist days, when either Dresden and happy work or home and happy rest were at end of the hard journey.... more...

CHAPTER ONE SOME PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS THE MADDING CROWD Any woman can drive an electric automobile, any man can drive a steam, but neither man nor woman can drive a gasoline; it follows its own odorous will, and goes or goes not as it feels disposed. For this very wilfulness the gasoline motor is the most fascinating machine of all. It possesses the subtle attraction of caprice; it constantly... more...

THE DIVINE DISCONTENT I It was the last Sunday in May, and in another week the annual flight to the seashore and the mountains would have begun again. The breezes stealing into the church through the open casements wafted hither and thither the odours of the chancel flowers, and mingled with those fainter and subtler perfumes set free by the rustling of summer gowns. As on this day he surveyed his... more...

CHAPTER I. "Adieu, adieu! my native shoreFades o'er the waters blue,The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,And shrieks the wild sea-mew.Yon sun that sets upon the seaWe follow in his flight;Farewell awhile to him and thee,My native Land—Good night!"—BYRON. Late in the fall of the year 18—, I embarked on board the ship Cosmo, bound from the port of Bristol to that of New York. The... more...

CHAPTER I.SIXTY MINUTES. The post-prandial orator was in the midst of his toast, the champagne-foam ran over the edge of his glass and trickled down his fat fingers, his lungs were expanded and his vocal chords strained to the utmost in the delivery of the well-rounded period upon which he was launched, and the blood was rushing to his head in the generous enthusiasm of the moment. In that brilliant... more...

A POEM to the memory of our late lamentedQueen Caroline. As a Briton, this tribute I pay to my Queen,Who late fell a martyr to malice and spleen;To add to her sorrows in this fleeting life,Misfortune had made her a young widow’d wife.England saw Brunswick’s daughter surrounded by foes;And, therefore determin’d their arts to oppose.Corruption those minions so much can increase,As to play with our... more...

COMPOSITION. 'Genius is the power of making efforts.' Erroneous opinions, once formed, seldom fail to affect the taste of a man's character through his whole life. It is, therefore, of the utmost necessity that his conduct be rightly directed. 'Art will not descend to us, we must be made to reach and aspire to it.' 'The great art to learn much,' says Locke, 'is... more...