Fiction Books

HER WEIGHT IN GOLD "Well the question is: how much does she weigh?" asked Eddie Ten Eyck with satirical good humour. His somewhat flippant inquiry followed the heated remark of General Horatio Gamble, who, in desperation, had declared that his step- daughter, Martha, was worth her weight in gold. The General was quite a figure in the town of Essex. He was the president of the Town and Country... more...

CHAPTER I My father—peace to his soul!—had been of those who thronged London streets with wine tubs to drink the restored king's health on bended knee; but he, poor gentleman, departed this life before his monarch could restore a wasted patrimony. For old Tibbie, the nurse, there was nothing left but to pawn the family plate and take me, a spoiled lad in his teens, out to Puritan kin of Boston... more...

CHAPTER I MRS. CARTER RECEIVES A LETTER "Is that the latest style?" inquired James Leech, with a sneer, pointing to a patch on the knee of Herbert Carter's pants. Herbert's face flushed. He was not ashamed of the patch, for he knew that his mother's poverty made it a necessity. But he felt that it was mean and dishonorable in James Leech, whose father was one of the rich men of... more...

Not far from Westminster Abbey, as most of our readers know well, stands the gorgeous pile which Mr. Barry has designed, and for which, in a pecuniary sense, a patient public has been rather handsomely bled.  Few are there who have looked at that pile from the Bridge—or from the numerous steamers which throng the river—or loitered round it on a summer’s eve, without feeling some little reverence... more...

Chauncey knocked the dottle out of his corncob and briefly startled Old Shep by inquiring unemotionally, "Will you never finish that blasted stick?" Which in Old Chauncey was tantamount to fury. Words being precious things, both old boys hoarded every syllable; Shep tightened his leathery lips and with the scalpel-point of the knife flicked away a mote of pine. Each link of the chain he was... more...

HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE CHAPTER I An ideal form of travel for the elderly—A claim to roam at will in print—An invitation to a big-game shoot—Details of journey to Cooch Behar—The commercial magnate and the station-master—An outbreak of cholera—Arrival at Cooch Behar Palace—Our Australian Jehu—The Shooting Camp—Its gigantic scale—The daily routine—"Chota Begum," my... more...

PRELUDE. The heroic deeds of Highlanders, both in these islands and elsewhere, have been told in verse and prose, and not more often, nor more loudly, than they deserve. But we must remember, now and then, that there have been heroes likewise in the lowland and in the fen. Why, however, poets have so seldom sung of them; why no historian, save Mr. Motley in his "Rise of the Dutch Republic," has... more...

I. THE SIGN OF THE SUNSET "BUT the man's almost dead." The words stung John Hare's fainting spirit into life. He opened his eyes. The desert still stretched before him, the appalling thing that had overpowered him with its deceiving purple distance. Near by stood a sombre group of men. "Leave him here," said one, addressing a gray-bearded giant. "He's the fellow sent... more...

CHAPTER 1. A Not Unnatural Enterprise This is written from memory, unfortunately. If I could have brought with me the material I so carefully prepared, this would be a very different story. Whole books full of notes, carefully copied records, firsthand descriptions, and the pictures—that's the worst loss. We had some bird's-eyes of the cities and parks; a lot of lovely views of streets, of... more...

OH, the Beautiful Mud! I always leave it on my boots. It is sacred to me. Because in it are the souls of lilies! The Hog should be a sacred beast. Hogs are Beautiful! They are close to the Mire! Oh, to be a Swine! What is more eloquent than a Sneeze? TheSneeze is the protest of the Free Spirit against theSmug Citizen who never exposes himself to a cold.Oh, Beautiful Sneezes! Oh, to make my life oneloud... more...