Fiction Books

CHAPTER I "Oh Shawn!" It was a shrill voice calling from the bank above the river. "You can holler till dark, but I ain't goin' to answer you while a blue-channel cat is nibblin' at this line." Through the short and chubby fingers a stout sea-grass line was running out to the accumulated driftwood in the eddy below the wharf-boat. Suddenly there came a spasmodic jerk of... more...

Chapter 1: Sixties' stories: Free Goa's first elections By Ben AntaoBesides his stint referred to in this chapter, Benedito Martinho Herculano Antao (b, 1935) worked for the Indian Express in Bombay (1965-66). He then won a journalism award from the World Press Institute, moved to the US for a year's study, work and travel. Later, he spent 10 weeks at the Denver Post (1967), worked for a... more...

The wagon had come to rest among the trees an hour or two before sunset. It was a covered-in dray, and had been brought to in a little clearing of the scrubby undergrowth. Two horses had drawn it all the way from the coast. Freed of their harness, they stood in the lee of a great gum, their flanks matted with the dust which had caked with the run of sweat on them. The mongrel that had followed at their... more...

It is a long path which stretches from forty-five to seventy. A path easy enough to make, for each day's journey through life is a part of it, but very difficult to retrace. When we turn at that advanced mile-stone and look back, things seem misty. For there is many a twist and angle in the highway of a life, and often the things which we would forget stand out the clearest. But I would not drive... more...

The Winston Plan The date was December twenty-third. The time along the Greenwich meridian, from which all world times are measured, was 8:15 P.M. At widely scattered points around the globe, four voices were raised simultaneously. Even an experienced observer could not have found a connection between the four voices and what they were saying, yet each voice started actions that would soon be... more...

CHAPTER I THE URSULINE LOSES A PUPIL "If the ship sails at dawn, then I must hasten to tell my mistress of the departure, and—of her father's letter." "I am loath to let yonder tide take her away so soon, Janet." "But my master's words are a positive command to leave Quebec at once," and Janet's eyes fell to the imperative line at the close of her letter which... more...

ACT I _The Wood-cutter's Cottage The stage represents the interior of a wood-cutter's cottage, simple and rustic in appearance, but in no way poverty-stricken. A recessed fireplace containing the dying embers of a wood-fire. Kitchen utensils, a cupboard, a bread-pan, a grandfather's clock, a spinning-wheel, a water-tap, etc. On a table, a lighted lamp. At the foot of the cupboard, on... more...

THE MILLER'S WIFE OF ERBISDORF. The ancient and free mountain city of Freiberg lies only about five-and-twenty miles south-west of Dresden, yet has a far more severe climate than the Saxon capital—a fact that may be understood if we remember that the road which leads from Dresden to Freiberg is up hill almost all the way. The Saxon Erzgebirge must not be pictured as a chain of separate... more...

LETTER XIV. DUCLER—ST. GEORGES DE BOCHERVILLE—M. LANGLOIS. (Ducler, July, 1818.) You will look in vain for Ducler in the livre des postes; yet this little town, which is out of the common road of the traveller, becomes an interesting station to the antiquary, it being situated nearly mid-way between two of the most important remains of ancient ecclesiastical architecture in Normandy—the abbeys of... more...

CHAPTER I. "The stars are out, and by their glistening light, I fain would whisper in thine ear a tale; Wilt hear it kindly? and if long and dull Believe me far more deeply grieved than thou." Clear and loud on the hushed silence of the midnight hour rang the chimes of the village clock, from the tall steeple-tower of the quaint old church of Wimbledon, while several ambitious chickens rose... more...