Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. My father, Reginald Monfort, was an English gentleman of good family, who, on his marriage with a Jewish lady of wealth and refinement, emigrated to America, rather than subject her and himself to the commentaries of his own fastidious relatives, and the incivilities of a clique to which by allegiance of birth and breeding he unfortunately belonged. Her own family had not been less averse to... more...

THE MIRACULOUS REVENGE I arrived in Dublin on the evening of the fifth of August, and drove to the residence of my uncle, the Cardinal Archbishop. He is like most of my family, deficient in feeling, and consequently averse to me personally. He lives in a dingy house, with a side-long view of the portico of his cathedral from the front windows, and of a monster national school from the back. My uncle... more...

THE MIRACLE Up from the templed city of the Jews,  The road ran straight and whiteTo Jericho, the City of the Palms,  The City of Delight. Down that still road from far Judean hills  The shepherds drove their sheepAt silver dawn—at stirring of the birds—  When men were all asleep. Full many went that weary way at noon,  Or rested by the trees,Romans and slaves, Gentiles and bearded... more...

CHAPTER I WHY WE WERE ENROLLED Archie Hemming is as straight-headed a boy as was ever raised in Boston town, and he insists that, while we are seemingly idling our time away here in the Cambridge camp, I ought to set down what small share we lads of Boston have had in beating the lobster backs, for certain it is we have done our share, and no less a man than General Israel Putnam has told us plainly... more...

THE MIRACLE MAN THE "ROOST" He was a misshapen thing, bulking a black blotch in the night at the entrance of the dark alleyway—like some lurking creature in its lair. He neither stood, nor kneeled, nor sat—no single word would describe his posture—he combined all three in a sort of repulsive, formless heap. The Flopper moved. He came out from the alleyway onto the pavement, into the lurid... more...

CHAPTER I TWO YOUNG VIRGINIANS When Uncle 'Rasmus loses his temper because of some prank which we lads of James Town may have played upon him, he always says that no good can ever come of that in which "chillun an' women are mixed." It had never entered my mind that there was in such a remark any cause for anger on my part, until that day when Saul Ogden repeated it, shaking his head... more...

CHAPTER IA FAREWELL BANQUET "D'Aumont!" "Eh? d'Aumont!" The voice, that of a man still in the prime of life, but already raucous in its tone, thickened through constant mirthless laughter, rendered querulous too from long vigils kept at the shrine of pleasure, rose above the incessant babel of women's chatter, the din of silver, china and glasses passing to and fro.... more...

Chapter I. Young Soldiers. It sounds like an unreasonable tale, or something after the style of a fairy-story, to say that a party of lads, drilling with wooden guns, were able, without being conscious of the fact, to frighten from his bloody work such a murderous, powerful sachem as Thayendanega, or Joseph Brant, to use his English name, but such is the undisputed fact. It was the month of May in the... more...

INTRODUCTION Alphonse Daudet was born at Nîmes on May 13, 1840.  The Daudets were of lowly origin.  Alphonse’s grandfather, a simple peasant, had in 1789 settled at Nîmes as a weaver.  His business prospered so much that he died leaving a small fortune; Vincent Daudet, his fourth son, and a young man of great ambition, was determined to rise out of the class in which he was born and acquire for... more...

LESLY'S MARCH. "But, O my country! how shall memory trace"Thy glories, lost in either Charles's days,"When through thy fields destructive rapine spread,"Nor sparing infants' tears, nor hoary head!"In those dread days, the unprotected swain"Mourn'd, in the mountains, o'er his wasted plain;"Nor longer vocal, with the shepherd's lay,"Were... more...