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Fiction Books
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                                 AT THE HOME OF HUGO CHEVET It was early autumn, for the clusters of grapes above me were already purple, and the forest leaves were tinged with red. And yet the air was soft, and the golden bars of sun flickered down on the work in my lap through the laced branches of the trellis. The work was but a pretense, for I had fled the house to escape the voice of Monsieur Cassion who was still urging my uncle...
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                                 CHAPTER I Across lots to the Brumble farm came the dusty apparition of a boy, a tousle-headed, freckle-faced, gaunt-eyed little fellow, clad in a sort of combination suit fashioned from a pair of overalls and a woman’s shirtwaist. In search of “Miss M’ri,” he looked into the kitchen, the henhouse, the dairy, and the flower garden. Not finding her in any of these accustomed places, he stood...
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                by: 
                                John Galsworthy                                
            
        
                                 ENCOUNTER Soames Forsyte emerged from the Knightsbridge Hotel, where he was staying, in the afternoon of the 12th of May, 1920, with the intention of visiting a collection of pictures in a Gallery off Cork Street, and looking into the Future. He walked. Since the War he never took a cab if he could help it. Their drivers were, in his view, an uncivil lot, though, now that the War was over and supply...
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                by: 
                                Howard Pyle                                
            
        
                                 FOREWORD. Between the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near to us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and had passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a great black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition, of cruelty, and of wickedness. That time we call the dark or middle ages. Few records remain to us of that...
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                                 Chapter I When history has granted him the justice of perspective, we shall know the American Pioneer as one of the most picturesque of her many figures. Resourceful, self-reliant, bold; adapting himself with fluidity to diverse circumstances and conditions; meeting with equal cheerfulness of confidence and completeness of capability both unknown dangers and the perils by which he has been educated;...
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                by: 
                                Mayne Reid                                
            
        
                                 Prologue. During one of many journeyings through the remote provinces of the Mexican republic, it was my fortune to encounter an old revolutionary officer, in the person of Captain Castaños. From time to time as we travelled together, he was good enough to give me an account of some of the more noted actions of the prolonged and sanguinary war of the Independence; and, among other narratives, one...
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                by: 
                                Mariano Azuela                                
            
        
                                 PART ONE "How beautiful the revolution!Even in its most barbarous aspect it is beautiful,"Solis said with deep feeling. I "That's no animal, I tell you! Listen to the dog barking! It must be a human being." The woman stared into the darkness of the sierra. "What if they're soldiers?" said a man, who sat Indian-fashion, eating, a coarse earthenware plate in his right...
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                by: 
                                Mayne Reid                                
            
        
                                 Chapter One. Volunteers for Texas. “I’ll go!” This laconism came from the lips of a young man who was walking along the Levee of New Orleans. Just before giving utterance to it he had made a sudden stop, facing a dead wall, enlivened, however, by a large poster, on which were printed, in conspicuous letters, the words— “Volunteers for Texas!” Underneath, in smaller type, was a proclamation,...
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                by: 
                                Joseph Hocking                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I The Brunford Town Hall clock was just chiming half-past three as Tom Pollard left his home in Dixon Street and made his way towards the Thorn and Thistle public-house. It was not Tom's intention to stay long at the Thorn and Thistle, as he had other plans in view, nevertheless something drew him there. He crossed the tram lines in St. George's Street, and, having stopped to exchange...
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                by: 
                                C. Chase Emerson                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I. FAR-AWAY GUNS “Boom! Boom! Boom!” The long surges of the Gulf of Mexico were beating heavily upon the sandy beach of Point Isabel, but the dull and boding sounds were not the roar of the surf. There came a long silence, and then another boom. Each in succession entered the white tents of the American army on the upland, carrying with it a message of especial importance to all who were...
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