Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. The Tiber in Flood—Typhoid fever in Rome—Florence—A Jew acquaintance—Drinking in Provence—Buying bric-à-brac with the Jew—The carro on Easter Eve—Its real Origin—My Jew friend's letters—Italian dolce far niente. Conceive yourself confronted by a pop-gun, some ten feet in diameter, charged with mephitic vapours and plugged with microbes of typhoid fever.... more...

FIRST WEEK. GREENHOUSE AND CONSERVATORY. Cinerarias.—The plants intended for large specimens must receive their final shift, and be allowed sufficient space to expand their foliage without interfering with or injuring each other. The side-shoots to be tied out. Epacrises.—As some of them will be preparing to burst into flower, a little arrangement may be necessary in tying them out to display their... more...

I. Childhood I was born a slave; but I never knew it till six years of happy childhood had passed away. My father was a carpenter, and considered so intelligent and skilful in his trade, that, when buildings out of the common line were to be erected, he was sent for from long distances, to be head workman. On condition of paying his mistress two hundred dollars a year, and supporting himself, he was... more...

Embarcation.—Fellow-passengers.—A Gale at Sea.—Arrival at Sisal.—Ornithological Specimens.—Merida.—Fête of San Cristoval.—The Lottery.—A Scene of Confusion.—Principle of the Game.—Passion for Gambling.—A deformed Indian. The reader of my "Incidents of Travel in Central America, Chiapas, and Yucatan," may remember that the researches of Mr. Catherwood and myself in the... more...

On the twenty-fourth of January we left Nohcacab. It was a great relief to bid farewell to this place, and the only regret attending our departure was the reflection that we should be obliged to return. The kindness and attentions of the padrecito and his brother, and, indeed, of all the villagers, had been unremitted, but the fatigue of riding twelve miles every day over the same ground, and the... more...

Reader, Some Authors are so fond of a Preface, that they will write one tho’ there be nothing more in it than an Apology for its self.  But to show thee that I am not one of those, I will make no Apology for this, but do tell thee that I think it necessary to be prefix’d to this Trifle, to prevent thy overlooking some little pains which I have taken in the Composition of the following Story. ... more...

PREFACE In the following pages I have attempted to outline the story of our movement for independence. The manuscript of this book was completed over four months ago. Since then many important changes have occurred in the international situation. Chapters in which we dealt with the then still existing Dual Monarchy must of course be read in the past tense, since Austria exists no more. And again, many... more...

A RUNAWAY. Once, after an arickara Indian mother had finished all her packing, as they were going to move camp, she fixed a travois on her big dog and placed her baby in the basket. Then all was ready and they were about to start, when a great, ugly black dog came along, and the two dogs began to fight. The squaw whipped them apart, and after she had quieted her poor little baby boy, who had been very... more...

PREFACE From the extreme West of the Indo-European world, we go this year to the extreme East. From the soft rain and green turf of Gaeldom, we seek the garish sun and arid soil of the Hindoo. In the Land of Ire, the belief in fairies, gnomes, ogres and monsters is all but dead; in the Land of Ind it still flourishes in all the vigour of animism. Soils and national characters differ; but fairy tales... more...

INTRODUCTION. IN almost every part of Europe the tales current among the common people have been of late years diligently sought out, and carefully collected. Variants of them pour in profusely every year. But it does not seem probable that any entirely new stories will be discovered in any European land. Nor is it likely that in fresh variants of the longer and apparently more artificial tales, any... more...