Fiction Books

CHAPTER I On a train speeding toward New York, in one of the parlour cars two young women sat facing each other, talking and smiling, deeply absorbed. They took little apparent notice of any one else in the car, but most of the people near them kept throwing curious glances their way. These glances differed vastly, as did the thoughts behind them. A tall, genial Westerner, who looked as though he had... more...

CAUGHT IN THE ACT. "Help! Police! Murder!" It was a dark, rainy night in March when this thrilling cry, in a man's voice, came from a house in West Thirty-sixth street, New York. Two detectives were passing along from Seventh avenue, toward Broadway, when the wild appeal brought them to a sudden pause. "Hark, Old King Brady!" one of them exclaimed. "Did you hear that cry?"... more...

The Camp on the Matya’mhlope. “There! That is Umzilikazi’s grave,” said Christian Sybrandt, pointing out a towering pile of rocks some little way off, across the valley. “Is it? Let’s go and have a look at it then,” was the prompt reply. But immediately upon having made it, the second speaker knew that he had spoken like a fool, for the first gave a short laugh. “Go over and have a look... more...

CHAPTER I. AN ASTRONOMER ROYAL. It was an evening in early autumn in the last year of the nineteenth century. We were nearing the close of a voyage as calm and peaceful as our previous lives. Margaret had been in Europe a couple of years and I had just been over to bring her home, and we were now expecting to reach New York in a day or two. Margaret and I were the best of friends. Indeed, we had loved... more...

CHAPTER 1 As the large motor swung along with the easy velocity and assurance of some enormous bird, Camilla Lancing nestled more cosily into the warmth of her fur wraps. Rupert Haverford was driving, and he looked back every now and then to see if his guest was comfortable. "Is this too quick for you?" he asked once; and Mrs. Lancing only shook her head with a smile. "It is too... more...

Deadly Pollen ZIONISM: to carry forward the cultural gene - O bright-lit destiny of the chosen! The child's bouncing ball lands in mud on the other side of the wire; footsteps are paradoxical in a minefield. His heart ticks fast as a metal detector, slowly, the yellow ball rolls to a stop. Proposition: to advance onto ancestral territory, or return into gentle, familial lands, a footfall journey... more...

PREFACE. In these days of plenty, when books of every subject and nature have become as commonly familiar to men as the blades of grass by the roadside, it seems superfluous to say any word of introduction or explanation on ushering a volume into the world of letters; but, lest the question arise as regards the direct intention or motive of an author, it is always safer that he make a plain statement... more...

INTRODUCTION Angels Peak stands on the eastern rim of a large area of badlands carved by a tributary of the San Juan River from Paleocene strata of the Nacimiento formation, and presumably also from Wasatchian strata of the San José (Simpson, 1948). This area of badlands lies some twelve miles south of Bloomfield, New Mexico in the Kutz Canyon drainage. Angels Peak (Angel Peak of Granger, 1917) and... more...

POEMS. Tis sweet in boyhood's visionary mood,When glowing Fancy, innocently gay,Flings forth, like motes, her bright aërial brood,To dance and shine in Hope's prolific ray;'Tis sweet, unweeting how the flight of yearsMay darkling roll in trials and in tears,To dress the future in what garb we list,And shape the thousand joys that never may exist.But he, sad wight! of all that feverish... more...

CHAPTER I. OUR story opens in that broad, far-reaching expanse of water which lies deep and blue between the two hemispheres, some fifteen degrees north of the equator, in the latitude of Cuba and the Cape Verd Islands. The delightful trade winds had not fanned the sea on a finer summer's day for a twelvemonth, and the waves were daintily swelling upon the heaving bosom of the deep, as though... more...