Fiction Books

Actus Primus. Scena Prima. Enter Clorin a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour. Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbraceThe truest man that ever fed his flocksBy the fat plains of fruitful Thessaly,Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I payMy early vows, and tribute of mine eyesTo thy still loved ashes; thus I freeMy self from all insuing heats and firesOf love: all sports, delights and... more...

n the day of the bomb outrage in the French Parliament I gave an impromptu discourse upon Anarchism to an intelligent audience anxious to know more about it, touching upon its intellectual ancestry, its doctrines, propaganda, the lines of demarcation that separate it from Socialism and Radicalism, and so forth. The impression which my explanations of it made upon my audience was at the same time... more...

CHAPTER I THE LAMB'S WISH Out of his box the Jack popped his head. The funny, black fringe of whiskers around his face jiggled up and down. His queer, big eyes looked around the store. "Hurray!" cried the Jack in the Box. "We are alone at last and now we can have some fun! Hurray!" "Are you sure?" asked a Bold Tin Soldier, who stood at the head of a company of his men in a... more...

CHAPTER I. GRACE CAMPBELL.   was a chilly Scotch spring day. The afternoon sun glistened with fitful, feeble rays on the windows of the old house of Kirklands, and unpleasant little gusts of east wind came eddying round its ancient gables, and sweeping along its broad walks and shrubberies, sending a chill to the hearts of all the young green things that were struggling into life. On the time-worn... more...

This book has grown out of studies begun twenty years ago in Italy, and continued fitfully, as I found the mood and time for them, long after their original circumstance had become a pleasant memory. If any one were to say that it did not fully represent the Italian poetry of the period which it covers chronologically, I should applaud his discernment; and perhaps I should not contend that it did much... more...

TRENT'S TRUST I Randolph Trent stepped from the Stockton boat on the San Francisco wharf, penniless, friendless, and unknown. Hunger might have been added to his trials, for, having paid his last coin in passage money, he had been a day and a half without food. Yet he knew it only by an occasional lapse into weakness as much mental as physical. Nevertheless, he was first on the gangplank to land,... more...

THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA "What I want you to do," said Mr. George Wright, as he leaned towards the old sailor, "is to be an uncle to me." "Aye, aye," said the mystified Mr. Kemp, pausing with a mug of beer midway to his lips. "A rich uncle," continued the young man, lowering his voice to prevent any keen ears in the next bar from acquiring useless knowledge. "An uncle... more...

CHAPTER I.NEWSPAPER PEOPLE. What would the Englishman do without his newspaper I cannot imagine.  The sun might just as well refuse to shine, as the press refuse to turn out its myriads of newspapers.  Conversation would cease at once.  Brown, with his morning paper in his hand, has very decided opinions indeed,—can tell you what the French Emperor is about,—what the Pope will be compelled to... more...

CHAPTER I THE STOLEN MOTOR "You are aware, I suppose, Marshall, that there have been considerably over a million dollars' worth of automobiles stolen in this city during the past few months?" asked Guy Garrick one night when I had dropped into his office. "I wasn't aware of the exact extent of the thefts, though of course I knew of their existence," I replied. "What's... more...

wo slitted green eyes loomed up directly in front of him. He plunged into them immediately. He had just made the voyage, naked through the dimension stratum, and he scurried into the first available refuge, to hover there, gasping. The word "he" does not strictly apply to the creature, for it had no sex, nor are the words "naked," "scurried," "hover" and... more...