Fiction Books

THE TWO TWILIGHTS THE THANKLESS MUSE The muses ring my bell and run away.I spy you, rogues, behind the evergreen:You, wild Thalia, romper in the hay;And you, Terpsichore, you long-legged quean.When I was young you used to come and stay,But, now that I grow older, 'tis well seenWhat tricks ye put upon me. Well-a-day!How many a summer evening have ye beenSitting about my door-step, fain to singAnd... more...

GUY DE MAUPASSANT Of the French writers of romance of the latter part of the nineteenth century no one made a reputation as quickly as did Guy de Maupassant. Not one has preserved that reputation with more ease, not only during life, but in death. None so completely hides his personality in his glory. In an epoch of the utmost publicity, in which the most insignificant deeds of a celebrated man are... more...

The First Hour When I was actually experiencing the thrill, it came delightfully, however, blended with a threat that proclaimed the imminent consequence of dismay. I appreciated the coming of the thrill, as a rare and unexpected “dramatic moment.” I savoured and enjoyed it as a real adventure suddenly presented in the midst of the common business of life. I imaginatively transplanted the scene... more...

CHAPTER I. —If there ever was a woman thoroughly like her name, it was Agatha Bowen. She was good, in the first place—right good at heart, though with a slight external roughness (like the sound of the g in her name), which took away all sentimentalism. Then the vowels—the three broad rich a's—which no one can pronounce with nimini-pimini closed lips—how thoroughly they answered to her... more...

THE ROSE IN THE MIRE The first time I was blessed with a sight of the señorita was on the day of my arrival in the Federal City,—in fact, it was upon my arrival. An inquiry in the neighborhood of the President's House for my sole acquaintance in the city, Senator Adair of Kentucky, had resulted in my being directed to Conrad's boarding house on the Capitol Hill. In the Fall of 1805 Indian... more...

"Come with me for a visit To Fairyland, dear Ned.I'll show you many won'drous things,"The tiny Gnomeman said. "I've lost a magic golden ring," The pretty Bluebird sighed."Don't worry," laughed the kind old fish,"I have it safe inside." "I'll hurry, Mother," Jimmy cried, As down the road he ran,When in a jiffy up there jumpedA little... more...

Part I. "And some say, she expects to get him married to Rose Ellen before the year's out!" "I want to know if she does!" "Her sister married a minister, and her father was a deacon, so mebbe she thinks she's got a master-key to the Kingdom. But I don't feel so sure of her gettin' this minister for Rose Ellen. Some say he's so wropped up in his garden truck... more...

YOU WILL MEET— Greg Hunter. Test pilot—happy only when his life hung in the balance. Tom Hunter. A pioneer—his frontier was hidden in test tubes. Johnny Coombs. A prospector—he returned from the asteroids too soon. Merrill Tawney. An industrialist—he sought plunder even beyond the stars. Major Briarton. A government man—his creed was law and order. They fought with whatever was handy, not... more...

A TIGER'S SKIN The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the "Cauliflower" was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. On the old table under the shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a large slice of cheese waited in an untied handkerchief until such time as his thirst should be satisfied. At the other side of the table the oldest man in Claybury, drawing... more...

CHAPTER I. ABOUT the middle of the last century, at eight o'clock in the evening, in a large but poor apartment, a man was slumbering on a rough couch. His rusty and worn suit of black was of a piece with his uncarpeted room, the deal table of home manufacture, and its slim unsnuffed candle. The man was Triplet, scene painter, actor and writer of sanguinary plays, in which what ought to be, viz.,... more...