Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. THE BIRTH OF AN IDEA. Sunk far back in the huge leather cushions of his morris chair, old Isaac Flint was thinking, thinking hard. Between narrowed lids, his hard, gray eyes were blinking at the morning sunlight that poured into his private office, high up in the great building he had reared on Wall Street. From his thin lips now and then issued a coil of smoke from the costly cigar he was... more...

The Chief Officer of Scientific Services, Information and Coordination was a somewhat misleading and obscure title, and Dr. Sherman Hockley who held it was not the least of those whom the title misled and sometimes obscured. He told himself he was not a mere library administrator, although he was proud of the information files built up under his direction. They contained the essence of accumulated... more...

CHAPTER I This book attempts to trace the varying but persistent course of Liberalism in British politics during the last hundred and fifty years. It is not so much a history of events as a reading of them in the light of a particular political philosophy. In the strict sense a history of Liberalism should cover much more than politics. The same habit of mind is to be discovered everywhere else in the... more...

CHAPTER I TOM LOUDON "And don't forget that ribbon!" called Kate Saltoun from the ranch-house door. "And don't lose the sample!" "I won't!" shouted Tom Loudon, turning in his saddle. "I'll get her just like you said! Don't you worry any!" He waved his hat to Kate, faced about, and put his horse to a lope. "Is it likely now I'd... more...

The Drama of Glass was an inspiration born in the brain of Kate Field, as she watched the busy workmen, who with trained eyes and skillful hands, wrought out the products of one of America's great industries that found a temporary home in the World's Fair at Chicago. It is an addition to the long list of brilliant writings of this versatile woman, whose literary labors have made her memory so... more...

Johnson went to see the others off at Idlewild. He knew they'd expect him to and, since it would be the last conventional gesture he'd have to make, he might as well conform to their notions of what was right and proper. For the past few centuries the climate had been getting hotter; now, even though it was not yet June, the day was uncomfortably warm. The sun's rays glinting off the... more...

CHAPTER I Yes indeed, I say to myself, pen in hand, I can keep hold of the thread and let it lead me back to the first impression.  The little story is all there, I can touch it from point to point; for the thread, as I call it, is a row of coloured beads on a string.  None of the beads are missing—at least I think they’re not: that’s exactly what I shall amuse myself with finding out. I had... more...

HE who has visited the idyllic isle of Corfu must have seen, gleaming white amidst its surroundings of dark green under a sky of the deepest blue, the Greek villa which was erected there by Elizabeth, Empress of Austria. It is called the Achilleion. In its garden there is a small classic temple in which the Empress caused to be placed a marble statue of her most beloved of poets, Heinrich Heine. The... more...

THE KID AMATEUR Gerard paused on the steps of the cement plateau overlooking the racetrack, his eyebrows lifting in the wave of humor glinting across his face like sunlight over quiet water. "What?" he wondered. "Who——" The grinning mechanician who had just come across from the row of training-camps opposite supplied the information. "Oh, that's Rose's rose. Ain't... more...

Life’s Conflict. In the deep recess of the inmost heart, Where Satan tempts and angels come to shield, Are foes by which we would be overcome, Were Christ not with us on the battle-field. The tempter, seeking whom he may devour, Would sift as wheat, and finally prevail; But Jesus intercedes and prays for us, That faith in these dread conflicts may not fail. These calls unheeded, who the end can... more...