Fiction Books

THE LETTER Through the stillness of a drowsy June day broke the intoning of the library bell, chiming the hour. Three heads lifted quickly to listen. Three pairs of eyes met, the same thought flashed through three minds. "Won't we miss that bell, though? I've seen grads when they've come back stand perfectly still and listen to it with their eyes all weepy looking. That's the... more...

I go to sea in rather unromantic surroundings. Have any of you made a passage on board a steamer between London and Leith? If you have, you will have seen no small number of brigs and brigantines, with sails of all tints, from doubtful white to decided black—some deeply-laden, making their way to the southward, others with their sides high out of the water, heeling over to the slightest breeze,... more...

HAPPY LITTLE EDWARD. Edward Jones was about four years old. He was a good, and of course a happy little boy, and he lived in a beautiful city in Connecticut, with his kind parents, and his brothers and sisters, and a dear good aunt, who took care of him. Edward's mother had a sister living in Massachusetts, who was the wife of a farmer, and one beautiful Spring morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jones... more...

NORMAN DUNCAN An Appreciation byWilfred T. Grenfell, M.D. As our thoughts fly back to the days when the writer of these stories was a guest aboard our little hospital vessel, we remember realizing how vast was the gulf which seemed to lie between him and the circumstances of our sea life in the Northland. Nowhere else in the world, perhaps, do the cold facts of life call for a more unrelieved material... more...

He was standing at the side of the glassite super-highway, his arm half-raised, thumb pointed in the same direction as that of the approaching rocket car. Ordinarily Frederick Marden would have passed a hitch-hiker without stopping, but there was something in the bearing and appearance of this one that caused him to apply his brakes. Marden opened the door next to the vacant seat beside him. "Going... more...

CHAPTER I IT was a gala night at the National Opera House, and the theatre was crammed from floor to roof, for Melba was sustaining a new part, and all London had gathered to listen. It was rarely indeed that so fashionable an audience assembled in February. The boxes were ablaze with diamonds. On the grand tier, however, there was one box which was not filled with gaily garbed women and which... more...

CHAPTER I TINKLER AND THE MOONFLOWER Dickie lived at New Cross. At least the address was New Cross, but really the house where he lived was one of a row of horrid little houses built on the slope where once green fields ran down the hill to the river, and the old houses of the Deptford merchants stood stately in their pleasant gardens and fruitful orchards. All those good fields and happy gardens are... more...

CHAPTER I. It was on a beautiful day in the early part of the month of April, 1812, that four persons were met in a rude farm-house, situated on the Southern Branch of the Chicago river, and about four miles distant from the fort of that name. They had just risen from their humble mid-day meal, and three of them were now lingering near the fire-place, filled with blazing logs, which, at that early... more...

For a lucky glimpse of the great Talbot Potter, the girls who caught it may thank that conjunction of Olympian events which brings within the boundaries of one November week the Horse Show and the roaring climax of the football months and the more dulcet, yet vast, beginning of the opera season. Some throbbing of attendant multitudes coming to the ears of Talbot Potter, he obeyed an inward call to walk... more...

Chapter One. The Opening of the Compact. “You will look after him, won’t you?” “Certainly. You can rely upon me absolutely.” Thus two men on the deck of a ship. One was silver-haired, elderly, spare and very refined looking. The other, of medium height, broadly built, and middle-aged, was, in his way, of striking appearance. His strong face, lined and sun-tanned, was half hidden in a full,... more...