Fiction Books

IF I MAY The Case for the Artist By an “artist” I mean Shakespeare and Me and Bach and Myself and Velasquez and Phidias, and even You if you have ever written four lines on the sunset in somebody’s album, or modelled a Noah’s Ark for your little boy in plasticine. Perhaps we have not quite reached the heights where Shakespeare stands, but we are on his track. Shakespeare can be representative... more...

PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. Among the works of every writer of Fiction there are generally one or two that owe their being to some haunting thought, long communed with—a thought which has at last found a living shape in some story of deed and passion. I say one or two advisedly: for the span of man's active life is short and such haunting fancies are, of their essence, solitary. As a matter... more...

Temptation came to me when I was in the worst possible position to resist it. It is a way temptation has. Whenever I swear off drinking invariably I am invited to an ushers' dinner. Whenever I am rich, only the highbrow publications that pay the least, want my work. But the moment I am poverty-stricken the MANICURE GIRL'S MAGAZINE and the ROT AND SPOT WEEKLY spring at me with offers of a... more...

ESSAY ON WAR [War for room required by encreased Population.—With Arts of Use and Comfort spring those of War.—Blessings of the Infant State of Society.—Peace cannot last beyond the Infancy of Society.—War defined to preserve the equilibrium of Population.—War between hords of emigrating Stranger Nations.—Invasions on account of violated Women.—Love the strongest and most natural cause of... more...

INTRODUCTORY. In making my bow to the public as an author, I feel it incumbent upon me to make a brief explanation of the motives that induced me to attempt this autobiographical sketch of nine years of my life. At intervals during the past decade, the country has been electrified by the recital of some horror perpetrated by Indians on white travelers, and those, who, having journeyed to the Far West,... more...

lark Decker winced and scrounged still lower in his seat as Mrs. Appleby-Simpkin rested her enormous bosom on the front of the podium and smiled down on the Patriot Daughters of America in convention assembled as she announced: "And now, my dears, I will read you one more short quotation from Major Wicks' fascinating book 'The Minor Tactics of The American Revolution.' When I am... more...

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR Summit Avenue was the prettiest street in Berwick. Spacious and comfortable-looking homes stood on either side of it, each in its setting of lawn and shade trees. Most of these showed no dividing fences or hedges, and boundaries were indiscernible in the green velvety sward that swept in a gentle slope to the sidewalk. Of two neighbouring houses, the side windows faced each other... more...

CHAPTER I. JIMMY TORRANCE, JR.   The gymnasium was packed as Jimmy Torrance stepped into the ring for the final event of the evening that was to decide the boxing championship of the university. Drawing to a close were the nearly four years of his college career—profitable years, Jimmy considered them, and certainly successful up to this point. In the beginning of his senior year he had captained... more...

CHAPTER1 DOUBLE TROUBLE “Now I ask you, Lou, what have I done to deserve such a fate?” Jerking a yellow card from beneath the windshield of the shiny new maroon-colored sedan, Penny Parker turned flashing blue eyes upon her companion, Louise Sidell. “Well, Penny,” responded her chum dryly, “in Riverview persons who park their cars beside fire hydrants usually expect to get parking tickets.”... more...

Part One INTRODUCTION The writer of this singular autobiography was my cousin, who died at the ——- Criminal Lunatic Asylum, of which he had been an inmate three years. He had been removed thither after a sudden and violent attack of homicidal mania (which fortunately led to no serious consequences), from ——- Jail, where he had spent twenty-five years, having been condemned to penal servitude... more...