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Fiction Books
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by:
Harold Bindloss
BOTTOMLESS SWAMP It was Construction Foreman Cassidy who gave the place its name when he answered his employer’s laconic telegram. Stirling, the great contractor, frequently expressed himself with forcible terseness; but when he flung the message across to his secretary as he sat one morning in his private room in an Ottawa hotel, the latter raised his eyebrows questioningly. He knew his employer in...
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YOUNG SWAIGDERorTHE FORCE OF RUNES It was the young Swaigder, With the little ball he played;The ball flew into the Damsel’s lap, And pale her cheeks it made. The ball flew into the Damsel’s bower. He went of it in quest;Before he out of the bower came, Much care had filled his breast! “The ball, the ball thou shouldst not fling, Shouldst cast it not at me;There sits a maid in...
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J. R. Alcorn collected a number of pocket gophers of the genus Pappogeomys in the states of Jalisco, Nayarit, and Colima. The bulk of this material was obtained in 1949 and 1950. Full treatment of these interesting pocket gophers will be given by the author in a future publication. Among the Pappogeomys collected by Alcorn were three specimens from the high Sierra del Tigre, an isolated range not...
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CHAPTER I ON THE BLIND SIDE OF CHANCE Allen Drew, glancing carelessly about as he started for the shore-end of the pier, suddenly saw the girl coming in his direction. From that moment—dating from the shock of that first glimpse of her—the current of his life was changed. Women were rare enough down here on the East River docks; one of the type of this gloriously beautiful girl seemed an...
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by:
Jean Webster
CHAPTER I The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, furnished with half a dozen tables and chairs, a red and green parrot chained to a perch, and a shady little arbour covered with vines, is a pleasant enough place for morning coffee, but decidedly too sunny for afternoon tea. It was close upon four of a July day, when Gustavo, his inseparable napkin floating from his arm, emerged from the cool dark doorway...
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CHAPTER I AT BOTTOM'S ORDINARY It was past four o'clock on a sunny October day, when a stranger, who had ridden over the "corduroy" road between Applegate and Old Church, dismounted near the cross-roads before the small public house known to its frequenters as Bottom's Ordinary. Standing where the three roads meet at the old turnpike-gate of the county, the square brick building,...
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CHAPTER I DOROTHY AND THE ADMIRAL The Blue Admiral Inn stood on the edge of the shore, with its red brick walls, and its gabled roof, and the old willow-trees that overhung it, all reflected in the quiet water as if the harbor had been a great mirror lying upon its back in the sun. This made it a most attractive place to look at. Then there were crisp little dimity curtains hanging in the windows of...
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PREFACE THE writing of this foreword to the biography of the late Mr. Roger Langdon should have devolved upon one of the notable personages who had an admiration for him and his work, but unhappily they have all, or nearly all, passed away. Unquestionably the person best fitted for the task would have been the late Rev. H. Fox Strangways, rector of Silverton during the period when Mr. Langdon acted as...
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INTRODUCTION I Turgenev is an author who no longer belongs to Russia only. During the last fifteen years of his life he won for himself the reading public, first in France, then in Germany and America, and finally in England. In his funeral oration the spokesman of the most artistic and critical of European nations, Ernest Renan, hailed him as one of the greatest writers of our times: 'The Master,...
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The sun was shining again after squalls, and the strait showed violet, green, red, and bronze lines, melting and intermingling each changing second. Metallic lustres shone as if some volcanic fountain on the lake-bed were spraying the surface. Jules McCarty stood at his gate, noting this change in the weather with one eye. He was a small, old man, having the appearance of a mummied boy. His cheek-bones...
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