Fiction Books

GRIT "Mormon" Peters carefully shifted his weighty bulk in the chair that he dared not tilt, gazing dreamily at the saw-toothed mountains shimmering in the distance, sniffing luxuriously the scent of sage. "They oughter spell Arizona with three 'C's,'" he said. "Why?" asked Sandy Bourke, wiping the superfluous oil from the revolver he was meticulously cleaning.... more...

The request of the author that I should write a few words of preface to this collection of poems must be my excuse for obtruding myself upon the reader. Having frequently had the pleasure as editor of The Canadian Monthly, of introducing many of Mrs. MacLean's poems to lovers of verse in the Dominion it was thought not unfitting that I should act as foster father to the collection of them here... more...

Castles in the Air. “O pale, pale face, so sweet and meek, Oriana!” Tennyson. “Is the linen all put away, Clarice?” “Ay, Dame.” “And the rosemary not forgotten?” “I have laid it in the linen, Dame.” “And thy day’s task of spinning is done?” “All done, Dame.” “Good. Then fetch thy sewing and come hither, and I will tell thee somewhat touching the lady whom thou art to... more...

IN MEMORIAM. At the time when, according to custom, Mr. Rhodes's death was formally announced to the several Courts of Record in San Francisco, one of the learned Judges urged the publication of his writings in some form which would give the bar a permanent memorial of one of it's most esteemed members, and to them their proper place in American literature. This has been accomplished by the... more...

The hand of the clock fastened up on the white wall of the conference room, just over the framed card bearing the words "Stand up for Jesus," and between two other similar cards, respectively bearing the sentences "Come unto Me," and "The Wonderful, the Counsellor," pointed to ten minutes of nine. As was usual at this period of Newville prayer-meetings, a prolonged pause had... more...

Don Michaels twisted about uneasily for a moment, then looked toward the doors of the darkened auditorium. He shook his head, then returned his attention to the stage. Of course, he'd joined in the applause—a guy felt sort of idiotic, just sitting there while everyone else in the place made loud noises—but that comedy act had been pretty smelly. They should have groaned instead of applauding.... more...

Few detailed studies of the mammal associations of the forests of the United States have been made. But if we are ever to know, for our different species of mammals, the natural environments under which their evolution and differentiation occurred, we must study and describe their habitats and habitat limitations before all the native areas in the country have been altered by the activities of mankind.... more...

SATURDAY I felt that some sort of scene was necessary in order to celebrate my first entrance into America, so I said "Little lamb, who made thee?" to a customs official. A fracas ensued far exceeding my wildest dreams, during which he delved down—with malice aforethought—to the bottom of my trunk and discovered the oddest things in my sponge bag. I think I'm going to like America. I... more...

CHAPTER I. A NEW-COMER. "YES, indeed," remarked one of the guests at the English table, "yes, indeed, we start life thinking that we shall build a great cathedral, a crowning glory to architecture, and we end by contriving a mud hut!" "I am glad you think so well of human nature," said the Disagreeable Man, suddenly looking up from the newspaper which he always read during meal-... more...

PROEM. Timber Town lay like a toy city at the bottom of a basin. Its wooden houses, each placed neatly in the middle of a little garden-plot, had been painted brightly for the delight of the children. There were whole streets of wooden shops, with verandahs in front of them to shade the real imported goods in their windows; and three wooden churches, freshly painted to suit the tastes of their... more...