Fiction Books

THE GUEST. He who writes this account is called Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak; he is the son of Marik, who was the son of Kirio, the son of Tiras, the son of Gomer, the son of Vorr, the son of Glenan, the son of Erer, the son of Roderik chosen chief of the Gallic army that, now two hundred and seventy-seven years ago, levied tribute upon Rome. Gallic word for chief. Joel (why should I not say... more...

INTRODUCTION In 1913 Mr. Gill and I published, under the authority of the Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America, the results of an inquiry into the condition of the country church in two typical counties—Windsor County, Vermont, and Tompkins County, New York. The disclosure of the conditions in these two counties and the conclusions to which they pointed led to the creation of the... more...

Chapter I. Early one bright June morning, not long ago, a high knoll of a prairie in southern New Mexico was occupied as it had never been before. Rattlesnakes had coiled there; prairie-dog sentinels and wolves and antelopes, and even grim old buffalo bulls, had used that swelling mound for a lookout station. Mountains in the distance and a great sweep of the plains could be seen from it. Never until... more...

I The Bell in the Fog I he great author had realized one of the dreams of his ambitious youth, the possession of an ancestral hall in England. It was not so much the good American's reverence for ancestors that inspired the longing to consort with the ghosts of an ancient line, as artistic appreciation of the mellowness, the dignity, the aristocratic aloofness of walls that have sheltered, and... more...

CHAPTER I   Preamble—Somewhat Immoral Notions of a Boarding-House Keeper—A    Balcony Is Heard Closing—A Cricket Chirps. The clock in the corridor had just struck twelve, in a leisurely, rhythmic, decorous manner. It was the habit of that tall old narrow-cased clock to accelerate or retard, after its own sweet taste and whim, the uniform and monotonous series of hours that encircle our life... more...

I The three or four "To Let" boards had stood within the low paling as long as the inhabitants of the little triangular "Square" could remember, and if they had ever been vertical it was a very long time ago. They now overhung the palings each at its own angle, and resembled nothing so much as a row of wooden choppers, ever in the act of falling upon some passer-by, yet never cutting... more...

CHAPTER I More than people are consciously aware, a new view of the universe and of man's place in it is forming. It is forming in the laboratories of scientists, the studies of thinkers, the congresses of social workers, the assemblies of reformers, the studios of artists and, even more quietly, in the circles of many homes. This new view is growing beneath the old as a bud grows beneath its... more...

I. THE DISCOVERY It is a strange fact, for which I do not expect ever satisfactorily to account, and which will receive little credence even among those who know that I am not given to romancing—it is a strange fact, I say, that the substance of the following pages has evolved itself during a period of six months, more or less, between the hours of midnight and four o'clock in the morning,... more...

A note about this story This story is from my collection, "A Place So Foreign and Eight More," published by Four Walls Eight Windows Press in September, 2003, ISBN 1568582862. I've released this story, along with five others, under the terms of a Creative Commons license that gives you, the reader, a bunch of rights that copyright normally reserves for me, the creator. I recently did the... more...

CHAPTER I THE GOVERNOR'S SPEECH When the applause had subsided, Governor Sawyer began to speak. "My Friends and Fellow Citizens: When I stood before the representatives chosen by the people, and an audience composed of the most eminent men and women in the State, and took the oath to support the constitution of my native State and that of my country, my heart was filled with what I deemed an... more...