Fiction Books

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THE HOME ON THE FRONTIER. "Dan! Dan! Come quick and see what I brought down with the gun!" "Why, Ralph, was that you I heard shooting? I thought it was father." "No; I was out, down by the river bank, and I brought down the finest deer you ever set eyes on. He was under the bunch of pecan-trees, and I let him have it straight in the neck and brought him down the first crack. Now... more...

by: Anonymous
The Second Book of Chronicles 1:1 Solomon the son of David was strengthened in his kingdom, and Yahweh his God was with him, and magnified him exceedingly. 1:2 Solomon spoke to all Israel, to the captains of thousands and of hundreds, and to the judges, and to every prince in all Israel, the heads of the fathers' houses. 1:3 So Solomon, and all the assembly with him, went to the high place that... more...

IN THE NORTHWEST. "I'll not forget Old Ireland, were it fifty times as fair." In myriads o'er the prairie  Bright flowers bloom strangely fair,There's beauty in the clear blue sky,  There's sweetness in the air;And loveliness, with lavish hand,  Decks dell and dingle gay;Yet still I love my native land—  The Green Isle, far away. The poplar quivers in the... more...

FAREWELL TO GORDON'S I cannot bear to recall my misery of mind after Mr. Swain's death. One hope had lightened all the years of my servitude. For, when I examined my soul, I knew that it was for Dorothy I had laboured. And every letter that came from Comyn telling me she was still free gave me new heart for my work. By some mystic communion—I know not what—I felt that she loved me yet,... more...

by: Unknown
ld Doctor Bolus was an old fashioned Doctor, and every morning started out with his cane, to visit his patients, sometimes taking with him his student, a man who had taken to studying medicine at thirty years old, in the hope of being the successor of Doctor Bolus.   We will follow the Doctor’s rounds for one morning. First he called at the Squire’s, whose father was sick. The Doctor examined his... more...

When it was first proposed to publish an English Translation of this admirable work, its gifted Author wrote to the Translator to the following effect: "This work cannot be without interest to the people of England, among whom, at this moment, the Jesuits are so madly pursuing their work. Nothing is more strange than their chimerical hopes of speedily converting England." Indeed, their... more...

CHAPTER I. THE BERNERS OF THE BURNING HEARTS. “Their love was like the lava flood That burns in Etna’s breast of flame.” Near the end of a dark autumn-day, not many years ago, a young couple, returning from their bridal tour arrived by steamer at the old city of Norfolk; and, taking a hack, drove directly to the best inn. They were attended by the gentleman’s valet and the lady’s maid, and... more...

CHAPTER I. A PRELIMINARY CONFESSION. In 1869, when I was about twenty-three years old, I sent a couple of sonnets to the revived Putnam's Magazine. At that period I had no intention of becoming a professional writer: I was studying civil engineering at the Polytechnic School in Dresden, Saxony. Years before, I had received parental warnings—unnecessary, as I thought—against writing for a... more...

ST. BAT'S "My name is Eagle," said the little girl. The boy said nothing. "My name is Eagle," she repeated. "Eagle de Ferrier. What is your name?" Still the boy said nothing. She looked at him surprised, but checked her displeasure. He was about nine years old, while she was less than seven. By the dim light which sifted through the top of St. Bat's church he did not... more...

PREFACE A preface generally begins with a truism; and I may set out with the admission that it is not always expedient to bring to light the posthumous work of great writers. A man generally contrives to publish, during his lifetime, quite as much as the public has time or inclination to read; and his surviving friends are apt to show more zeal than discretion in dragging forth from his closed desk... more...