Fiction Books

I THE GIRL AND THE BOY The Beautiful River grows very wide in making its great bend around western Kentucky. On the other side, its shores are low for many miles, but well guarded by giant cottonwoods. These spectral trees stand close to its brink and stretch their phantom arms far over its broad waters, as if perpetually warding off the vast floods that rush down from the North. But the floods are to... more...

Stan Bolovan. nce upon a time, something happened. If it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be told. At the edge of the village, where the peasants' oxen break through the hedges and the neighbors' hogs wallow in the ground under the fences, there once stood a house. In this house lived a man, and the man had a wife; but the wife grieved all day long. "What troubles you, dear wife,... more...

hurgub," said the tape recorder. "Just like I told you before, Dr. Blair, it's krandoor, so don't expect to vrillipax, because they just won't stand for any. They'd sooner framish." "Framish?" Jonathan heard his own voice played back by the recorder, tinny and slightly nasal. "What is that, Mr. Easton?" "You know. Like when you guttip. Carooms get... more...

CHAPTER I. ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX.   "The highest not more  Than the height of a counsellor's bag."—WORDSWORTH. Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small... more...

CHAPTER I. How a Dove-cot was fluttered in Rossmoyne. The old-fashioned clock is ticking loudly, ponderously, as though determined to betray the flight of fickle time and impress upon the happy, careless ones that the end of all things is at hand. The roses knock their fragrant buds against the window-panes, calling attention to their dainty sweetness. The pigeons coo amorously upon the sills outside,... more...

CHAPTER IA BORN SURGEON Dr. Fred Grant, recalled in haste from his daily round of professional visits by a telephone message from his nephew, leaped out of his carriage over the yet moving wheel, and, stuffing an open letter into his pocket, rushed up the walk and into his office, which occupied a wing of his commodious house. A sight met his eyes which was not uncommon, situated as he was in the midst... more...

STREAKS OF LIGHT An octagonal pavilion of the Rococo period, the three front walls of which are cut off by the proscenium. Ceiling and walls are cracked and spotted by rain, and bear the marks of long disuse. At the back, in the centre, a large doorway. The glass door is thrown wide open; the shutters behind are closed. On the right and left, in the oblique walls of the room, are windows, the shutters... more...

CHAPTER IMAKING AND PLANTING A ROSE GARDENHappy is the rosarian who is free to choose the spot in which to make his rose garden—to choose the ideal position, with ideal soil, in an ideal climate. Such fortuitous combinations are possible. But though they do not fall to the lot of one rose-lover in a hundred, it is still easy to find a bit of ground in which roses will flourish; for, with proper care,... more...

THE WHITE GIRL ON THE TERRACE: THE ROSE GIRL AT THE CASINO THERE was a young man in Monte Carlo. He had come in a motor car, and he had come a long way, but he hardly knew why he had come. He hardly knew in these days why he did anything. But then, one must do something. It would be Christmas soon, and he thought that he would rather get it over on the Riviera than anywhere else, because the blue and... more...

You can't buy a girl! But in the year 2214, you can. She can whip you into shape, design your diet, be your personal stylist, and turn you from geek to chic in just one year. What will happen if your model isn't what they promised?