Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. LUCY. It lay down in a hollow, rich with fine old timber and luxuriant pastures; and you came upon it through an avenue of limes, bordered on either side by meadows, over the high hedges of which the cattle looked inquisitively at you as you passed, wondering, perhaps, what you wanted; for there was no thorough-fare, and unless you were going to the Court you had no business there at all. At... more...

The explorations of Mr. John McDouall Stuart may truly be said, without disparaging his brother explorers, to be amongst the most important in the history of Australian discovery. In 1844 he gained his first experiences under the guidance of that distinguished explorer, Captain Sturt, whose expedition he accompanied in the capacity of draughtsman. Leaving Lake Torrens on the left, Captain Sturt and his... more...

CHAPTER I FOUR LIVELY BOYS "Boys, I'm going swimming. Who is going along?" "Count me in, Snap," answered Shep Reed. "Swimming?" came from a third youth of the crowd of four. "Why, you couldn't keep me away if you tried. I've been waiting for a swim for about eleven years——-" "And a day," broke in a small, stout youth. "Don't forget the... more...

TRANSGRESSION It was strange to think that if, on finishing her coffee in her room, she had looked in on the children, as she generally did, instead of going down to the drawing-room to write a note, her whole life might have been different. "Why didn't I?" was the question she often asked herself in the succeeding years, only to follow it with the reflection: "But perhaps it would... more...

NEW YORK, Saturday, October 12, 1878. Bang! click! the desk closes, the key turns, and good-bye for a year to my wards—that goodly cluster over which I have watched with parental solicitude for many a day; their several cribs full of records and labelled Union Iron Mills, Lucy Furnaces, Keystone Bridge Works, Union Forge, Cokevale Works, and last, but not least, that infant Hercules, the Edgar... more...

CHAPTER I. "What time is it?" inquired Dame Hansen, shaking the ashes from her pipe, the last curling rings from which were slowly disappearing between the stained rafters overhead. "Eight o'clock, mother," replied Hulda. "It isn't likely that any travelers will come to-night. The weather is too stormy." "I agree with you. At all events, the rooms are in readiness,... more...

THE ETHICS OF GEORGE ELIOT’S WORKS. “There is in man a higher than love of happiness: he can do without happiness, and instead thereof find blessedness.” Such may be regarded as the fundamental lesson which one of the great teachers of our time has been labouring to impress upon the age.  The truth, and the practical corollary from it, are not now first enunciated.  Representing, as we believe... more...

CHAPTER I EAST OF THE SETTING SUN Far off in the mountain lands, somewhere to the east of the setting sun, lies the principality of Graustark, serene relic of rare old feudal days. The traveler reaches the little domain after an arduous, sometimes perilous journey from the great European capitals, whether they be north or south or west—never east. He crosses great rivers and wide plains; he winds... more...

BARBOX BROTHERS I “Guard!  What place is this?” “Mugby Junction, sir.” “A windy place!” “Yes, it mostly is, sir.” “And looks comfortless indeed!” “Yes, it generally does, sir.” “Is it a rainy night still?” “Pours, sir.” “Open the door.  I’ll get out.” “You’ll have, sir,” said the guard, glistening with drops of wet, and looking at the tearful face of his... more...

They burned a witch in Bingham SquareLast Friday afternoon.The faggot-smoke was blacker thanThe shadows on the moon;The licking flames were strangely greenLike fox-fire on the fen ...And she who cursed the godly folkWill never curse again.They burned a witch in Bingham SquareBefore the village gate.A huswife raised a skinny handTo damn her, tense with hate.A huckster threw a jagged stone—Her pallid... more...