Fiction Books

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In the Old Fen-Land. “Oh, how sweet the pines smell, Marion! I declare it’s quite bliss to get down here in these wilds, with the free wind blowing the London smoke out of your back hair, and no one to criticise and make remarks. I won’t go to the sea-side any more: pier and band, and esplanade and promenade; in pink to-day and in blue to-morrow, and the next day in green; and then a bow here and... more...

CHILD MAIDELVOLD. The fair Sidselil, of all maidens the flower,With her mother the Queen sat at work in her bower. So hard at the woof the fair Sidselil plies,That out from her bosom, so white, the milk flies. “Now hear thou, O Sidselil, child of my heart,What causes the milk from thy bosom to start?” “O that is not milk, my dear mother, I vow,It is but the mead I was drinking just now.”... more...

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY Among the recollections that are lifelong, I have one as vivid as ever after more than twenty-five years have elapsed; it is of an evening lecture—the first of a series—given at South Kensington to working men. The lecturer was Professor Huxley; his subject, the Common Lobster. All the apparatus used was a good-sized specimen of the creature itself, a penknife, and a... more...

I A CHILD OF THE STAGE 1848-1856 This is the first thing I remember. In the corner of a lean-to whitewashed attic stood a fine, plain, solid oak bureau. By climbing up on to this bureau I could see from the window the glories of the sunset. My attic was on a hill in a large and busy town, and the smoke of a thousand chimneys hung like a gray veil between me and the fires in the sky. When the sun had... more...

by: Zane Grey
CHAPTER I Twilight of a certain summer day, many years ago, shaded softly down over the wild Ohio valley bringing keen anxiety to a traveler on the lonely river trail. He had expected to reach Fort Henry with his party on this night, thus putting a welcome end to the long, rough, hazardous journey through the wilderness; but the swift, on-coming dusk made it imperative to halt. The narrow,... more...

When the voice over the telephone promised to name the man who killed Hermann Banf, District Attorney Wharton was up-town lunching at Delmonico's. This was contrary to his custom and a concession to Hamilton Cutler, his distinguished brother-in-law. That gentleman was interested in a State constabulary bill and had asked State Senator Bissell to father it. He had suggested to the senator that, in... more...

CHAPTER I Bunny and Susan Cotton-Tail sat by the fire one winter evening warming their paws. "What's that?" asked Bunny. "What's that?" asked Susan. They went to the window and saw a very little Bunny stuck fast in a snowdrift. "Help, help," cried Bunny, "I will get the snow-shovel." "Help, help," cried Susan, "I will get the wheelbarrow." Bunny... more...

SAINT BRIDGET ANDTHE KING'S WOLFEVERY one has heard of Bridget, the little girl saint of Ireland. Her name is almost as well known as that of Saint Patrick, who drove all the snakes from the Island. Saint Bridget had long golden hair; and she was very beautiful. Many wonderful things happened to her that are written in famous books. But I suspect that you never heard what she did about the... more...

"An eternal being created human society as it is to-day, and submission to 'superiors' and 'authority' is imposed on the 'lower' classes by divine will." This suggestion, coming from pulpit, platform and press, has hypnotized the minds of men and proves to be one of the strongest pillars of exploitation. Scientific investigation has revealed long ago that human... more...

He was standing at the side of the glassite super-highway, his arm half-raised, thumb pointed in the same direction as that of the approaching rocket car. Ordinarily Frederick Marden would have passed a hitch-hiker without stopping, but there was something in the bearing and appearance of this one that caused him to apply his brakes. Marden opened the door next to the vacant seat beside him. "Going... more...