Fiction Books

I Part of a densely grown garden; on the right benches; at the back a rail fence, separating the garden from a field. SCENE I Enter NÁDYA and LÍZA NÁDYA. No, LГѓ­za, don't say that: what comparison could there be between country and city life! LÍZA. What is there so specially fine about city life? NÁDYA. Well, everything is different there; the people themselves, and even the whole... more...

THE SUPPLY AT SAINT AGATHA'S. At the crossing of the old avenue with the stream of present traffic, in a city which, for obvious reasons, will not be identified by the writer of these pages, there stood—and still stands—the Church of Saint Agatha's. The church is not without a history, chiefly such as fashion and sect combine to record. It is an eminent church, with a stately date upon... more...

FOREWORD "Camerado, this is no book;Who touches this touches a man." Walt Whitman's relation to his work was more personal than that of most poets. He was, in a larger sense, a man of one book, and this book, issued and reissued at various periods of the poet's life, was, at each issuance, the latest expression of his development. The infinite care he gave to his work; the continual... more...

It was not until Miss Menemon's engagement to John Usselex was made public that the world in which that young lady moved manifested any interest in her future husband. Then, abruptly, a variety of rumors were circulated concerning him. It was said, for instance, that his real name was Tchurchenthaler and that his boyhood had been passed tending geese in a remote Bavarian dorf, from which, to avoid... more...

THE HERITAGE OF DEDLOW MARSH. The sun was going down on the Dedlow Marshes. The tide was following it fast as if to meet the reddening lines of sky and water in the west, leaving the foreground to grow blacker and blacker every moment, and to bring out in startling contrast the few half-filled and half-lit pools left behind and forgotten. The strong breath of the Pacific fanning their surfaces at times... more...

The joy of the people on the return of Louis XVIII., in 1814, was unbounded. It was in the spring, and the hedges, gardens, and orchards were in full bloom. The people had for years suffered so much misery, and had so many times feared being carried off by the conscription never to return, they were so weary of battles, of the captured cannon, of all the glory and the Te Deums, that they wished for... more...

CHAPTER I. DARK DAYS OF 1861.—A FATHER WHO GAVE HIS CHILDREN TO THECOUNTRY.—RALLYING TO THE FLAG.—RAISING VOLUNTEERS INSOUTHERN INDIANA. "The more solitary, the more friendless, the moreunsustained I am, the more I will respect and rely uponmyself."—Charlotte Bronte ALLENTOWN is a beautiful little city of 10,000 inhabitants, situated on the Wabash River, in Vigo County, Ind., in the... more...

THE SON’S VETO CHAPTER I To the eyes of a man viewing it from behind, the nut-brown hair was a wonder and a mystery.  Under the black beaver hat, surmounted by its tuft of black feathers, the long locks, braided and twisted and coiled like the rushes of a basket, composed a rare, if somewhat barbaric, example of ingenious art.  One could understand such weavings and coilings being wrought to last... more...

CHAPTER IMAKING AND PLANTING A ROSE GARDENHappy is the rosarian who is free to choose the spot in which to make his rose garden—to choose the ideal position, with ideal soil, in an ideal climate. Such fortuitous combinations are possible. But though they do not fall to the lot of one rose-lover in a hundred, it is still easy to find a bit of ground in which roses will flourish; for, with proper care,... more...

CHAPTER I AFTER STRAY CATTLE "Hi! Yi! Yip!" "Woo-o-o-o! Wah! Zut!" "Here we come!" What was coming seemed to be a thunderous cloud of dust, from the midst of which came strange, shrill sounds, punctuated with sharp cries, that did not appear to be altogether human. The dust-cloud grew thicker, the thunder sounded louder, and the yells were shriller. From one of a group of dull,... more...