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Fiction Books
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JUST LIKE A CAT They were doing good work out back of the Westcote express office. The Westcote Land and Improvement Company was ripping the whole top off Seiler's Hill and dumping it into the swampy meadow, and Mike Flannery liked to sit at the back door of the express office, when there was nothing to do, and watch the endless string of waggons dump the soft clay and sand there. Already the...
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I A slightly decrepit roadster lurched to an abrupt halt in front of the Altman residence, and the blond, blue-eyed driver hailed a plump, dark-haired girl who stood on the front porch. "Hello, Susan. Been waiting long?" "Only about ten minutes, Penny." "I'm terribly sorry to be late, but I think we can still make it on time if we hurry." Before replying, Susan...
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by:
O. Douglas
CHAPTER I "The actors are at hand, And by their show You shall know all that you are like to know." Midsummer Night's Dream. It was tea-time in Priorsford: four-thirty by the clock on a chillOctober afternoon. The hills circling the little town were shrouded with mist. The wide bridge that spanned the Tweed and divided the town proper—the Highgate, the Nethergate,...
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I Penny Nichols, hair flying in the wind, came running up the steps of the Altman porch. She did not need to ring the bell, for just at that moment Susan, her dark-haired chum, appeared in the open doorway. "Why, hello, Penny," greeted the Altman girl. "You're all out of breath." "I ran most of the way from home," replied Penny. "I was hoping you'd drop in...
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I Penny Nichols flung open the office door of the Nichols Detective Agency, descending upon a dignified, gray-haired man who was busy at his desk. "Dad," she announced, "I've come to report a mysterious disappearance!" Christopher Nichols dropped the correspondence upon which he was working and regarded his daughter for a moment, his gray eyes flashing an indulgent welcome....
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by:
Howard Pyle
Once upon a time there was a lad named Jacob Boehm, who was a practical huntsman. One day Jacob said to his mother, "Mother, I would like to marry Gretchen—the nice, pretty little daughter of the Herr Mayor." Jacob's mother thought that he was crazy. "Marry the daughter of the Herr Mayor, indeed! You want to marry the daughter of the Herr Mayor? Listen; many a man wants and wants,...
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I ON THE ADVANTAGE OF TWINS February 2. Candlemas and mild, gray weather. If the woodchuck stirs up his banked life-fire and ventures forth, he will not see his shadow, and must straightway arrange with winter for a rebate in our favour. To-day, however, it seems like the very dawn of winter, and as if the cloud brooms were abroad gathering snow from remote and chilly corners of the sky. Six years ago...
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CHAPTER I Oaths, vociferations, and the slamming of cab-doors. The darkness was decorated by the pink of a silk skirt, the crimson of an opera-cloak vivid in the light of a carriage-lamp, with women's faces, necks, and hair. The women sprang gaily from hansoms and pushed through the swing-doors. It was Lubini's famous restaurant. Within the din was deafening. "What cheer,...
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The Bishop was walking across the fields to afternoon service. It was a hot July day, and he walked slowly—for there was plenty of time—with his eyes fixed on the far-off, shimmering sea. That minstrel of heat, the locust, hidden somewhere in the shade of burning herbage, pulled a long, clear, vibrating bow across his violin, and the sound fell lazily on the still air—the only sound on earth...
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CHAPTER I "Maraton has come! Maraton! Maraton is here!" Across Soho, threading his way with devilish ingenuity through mazes of narrow streets, scattering with his hooter little groups of gibbering, swarthy foreigners, Aaron Thurnbrein, bent double over his ancient bicycle, sped on his way towards the Commercial Road and eastwards. With narrow cheeks smeared with dust, yellow teeth showing...
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