Fiction Books

CHAPTER I A MAKE-BELIEVE FIGHT "Attention!" That was the word of command heard in the toy section of a large department store one night, after all the customers and clerks had gone home. "Attention!" "Dear me, what is going on?" asked a Calico Clown, as he looked around the corner of a pile of gaily colored building blocks. "Has the Sawdust Doll come back to see us?"... more...

SEARCHING FOR REX "What train did Rex say he would be back on, Roy?" This was the question asked by Mrs. Pell at the breakfast table on the morning that Rex was trudging along the dusty road between New York and Philadelphia. "He didn't say," replied Roy. "He'll surely be home by lunch, though. Scott is going to West Chester with his mother at noon." Lunch hour arrived... more...

A wide plain, where the broadening Floss hurries on between its green banks to the sea, and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks its passage with an impetuous embrace. On this mighty tide the black ships–laden with the fresh-scented fir-planks, with rounded sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with the dark glitter of coal–are borne along to the town of St. Ogg's, which shows its aged,... more...

PART ONE: MAKING THE MOULD I The company stood at attention, each man looking straight before him at the empty parade ground, where the cinder piles showed purple with evening. On the wind that smelt of barracks and disinfectant there was a faint greasiness of food cooking. At the other side of the wide field long lines of men shuffled slowly into the narrow wooden shanty that was the mess hall. Chins... more...

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I I Matthew Lanfear had stopped off, between Genoa and Nice, at San Remo in the interest of a friend who had come over on the steamer with him, and who wished him to test the air before settling there for the winter with an invalid wife. She was one of those neurasthenics who really carry their climate—always a bad one—with them, but she had set her mind on San Remo; and Lanfear was willing to pass... more...

If one can just lie close enough to the breast of the wilderness, he can't help but be imbued with some of the life that pulses therein.—From a Frontiersman's Diary. Long ago, when the great city of Gitcheapolis was a rather small, untidy hamlet in the middle of a plain, it used to be that a pool of water, possibly two hundred feet square, gathered every spring immediately back of the... more...

CHAPTER I THE FIRST PROBLEM Lone Moose snaked its way through levels of woodland and open stretches of meadow, looping sinuously as a sluggish python—a python that rested its mouth upon the shore of Lake Athabasca while its tail was lost in a great area of spruce forest and poplar groves, of reedy sloughs and hushed lakes far northward. The waterways of the North are its highways. There are no... more...

John's First Letter 1:1 That which was from the beginning, that which we have heard, that which we have seen with our eyes, that which we saw, and our hands touched, concerning the Word of life 1:2 (and the life was revealed, and we have seen, and testify, and declare to you the life, the eternal life, which was with the Father, and was revealed to us); 1:3 that which we have seen and heard we... more...

M. Stonecypher lifted his reed sun hat with the square brim, and used a red handkerchief to absorb the perspiration streaking his forehead. He said, "The pup'll make a good guard, 'especially for thrill parties." L. Dan's golden curls flickered in July 1 sunlight. The puppy growled when Dan extended a gloved hand. "I don't want a guard," the hobbyist said. "I... more...