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Fiction Books
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                by: 
                                Keene Abbott                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I THE LOST CAUSE avid had a suspicion. He did not know it was that, but that is what it was. He suspected that Mother thought he was a good little boy, and he suspected that she thought Mitchell Horrigan was a bad little boy. Perhaps Mother had a suspicion, too; she might have suspected that it was Mitch who had put a certain notion into David's head—a notion which had to do with pants....
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                by: 
                                Andrew Lang                                
            
        
                                 Gentlemen, In the volume now in your hands, the authors have touched upon that ugly devil of crime, with which it is your glory to have contended. It were a waste of ink to do so in a serious spirit. Let us dedicate our horror to acts of a more mingled strain, where crime preserves some features of nobility, and where reason and humanity can still relish the temptation. Horror, in this case, is due to...
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                by: 
                                James Otis                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I THE BREAKER BOY "Jest moved here, eh?" "Came last Friday." "And you are going into the breaker?" "Yes." "For thirty-five cents a day?" "That is all the company pays, and a green hand can't expect to get more." "Were you ever in a mine before?" "I never even saw one." "A trip down the slope will be enough to make you wish...
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                                 CHAPTER I Lilla Delliver's parents, killed in a railway accident, left their child a legacy other than the fortune that the New York newspapers mentioned in the obituaries. The mother had been tall, blonde, rather wildly handsome, with the look of one of those neurotic queens who suppress under a proud manner many psychic disturbances. Painfully fastidious in her tastes, she had avoided every...
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                by: 
                                Sinclair Lewis                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I I ON a hill by the Mississippi where Chippewas camped two generations ago, a girl stood in relief against the cornflower blue of Northern sky. She saw no Indians now; she saw flour-mills and the blinking windows of skyscrapers in Minneapolis and St. Paul. Nor was she thinking of squaws and portages, and the Yankee fur-traders whose shadows were all about her. She was meditating upon walnut...
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                by: 
                                Kirk Munroe                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I. Over and over again had Mark and Ruth Elmer read this paragraph, which appeared among the "Norton Items" of the weekly paper published in a neighboring town: "We are sorry to learn that our esteemed fellow-townsman, Mark Elmer, Esq., owing to delicate health, feels compelled to remove to a warmer climate. Having disposed of his property in this place, Mr. Elmer has purchased a...
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                                 CHAPTER I.O that Decay were always beautiful!How soft the exit of the dying day,The dying season too, its disarrayIs gold and scarlet, hues of gay misrule,So it in festive cheer may pass away;Fading is excellent in earth or air,With it no budding April may compare,Nor fragrant June with long love-laden hours;Sweet is decadence in the quiet bowersWhere summer songs and mirth are fallen asleep,And sweet...
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                by: 
                                Connell                                
            
        
                                 The transport swung past Centaurus on the last leg of her long journey to Sol. There was no flash, no roar as she swept across the darkness of space. As silent as a ghost, as quiet as a puff of moonlight she moved, riding the gravitational fields that spread like tangled, invisible spider webs between the stars. Within the ship there was also silence, but the air was stirred by a faint, persistent...
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                                 § 1. THE TERM The names ‘rationalist’ and ‘rationalism’ have been used in so many senses within the past three hundred years that they cannot be said to stand quite definitely for any type or school of philosophic thought. For Bacon, a ‘rationalist’ or rationalis was a physician with a priori views of disease and bodily function; and the Aristotelian humanists of the Helmstadt school were...
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                                 THE HYLA BISTINCTA GROUP The five species comprising the Hyla bistincta group are moderate-sized hylids having rather blunt heads and robust bodies. The fingers are long and have little webbing (Fig. 1). The skin of the dorsum is thick and glandular, but not tuberculate. An anal sheath is present. The skull is rather broad, flat, and solidly roofed. The ethmoid is broad, curved downward laterally, and...
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