Fiction Books

THE PASTORAL BEES The honey-bee goes forth from the hive in spring like the dove from Noah's ark, and it is not till after many days that she brings back the olive leaf, which in this case is a pellet of golden pollen upon each hip, usually obtained from the alder or the swamp willow. In a country where maple sugar is made the bees get their first taste of sweet from the sap as it flows from the... more...

The place was dark and damp, and smelled like moldy leaves. Meyerhoff followed the huge, bear-like Altairian guard down the slippery flagstones of the corridor, sniffing the dead, musty air with distaste. He drew his carefully tailored Terran-styled jacket closer about his shoulders, shivering as his eyes avoided the black, yawning cell-holes they were passing. His foot slipped on the slimy flags from... more...

OURSELVES I'm Jack. I've always been Jack, ever since I can remember at least, though I suppose I must have been called 'Baby' for a bit before Serena came. But she's only a year and a half younger than me, and Maud's only a year and a quarter behind her, so I can scarcely remember even Serena being 'Baby'; and Maud's always been so very grown up for her age... more...

The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely settled—but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved, precluded the... more...

Chapter I The Mysterious Patient   As I look back through the years of my association with John Thorndyke, I am able to recall a wealth of adventures and strange experiences such as falls to the lot of very few men who pass their lives within hearing of Big Ben. Many of these experiences I have already placed on record; but it now occurs to me that I have hitherto left unrecorded one that is, perhaps,... more...

AbecedaryVolatility.AbatinaFickleness.AcaciaFriendship.Acacia, Rose or White    Elegance.Acacia, YellowSecret love.AcanthusThe fine arts. Artifice.AcaliaTemperance.Achillea MillefoliaWar.Aconite (Wolfsbane)Misanthropy.Aconite, CrowfootLustre.Adonis, FlosPainful recollections.African MarigoldVulgar minds.Agnus CastusColdness. Indifference.AgrimonyThankfulness. Gratitude. Almond (Common)Stupidity.... more...

Living as we do in the midst of rivers, water in all its forms, except indeed that of the trackless and mighty ocean, is familiar to our little inland county. The slow majestic Thames, the swift and wandering Kennett, the clear and brimming Loddon, all lend life and verdure to our rich and fertile valleys. Of the great river of England—whose course from its earliest source, near Cirencester, to where... more...

LITTLE MOTHER. One day Kitty's mother called her little daughter to her, and taking both her dimpled dots of hands in her own soft white ones, said, "Kitty, my darling, I am going to New York this morning, to see your dear grandma', and I shall have to leave the house in your charge until I come back. Do you think you can be my little housekeeper for to-day?" "Oh yes, mamma! I... more...

CHAPTER I THE AUTO CRASH "How about it, Joe?" asked Bob Layton of his chum, Joe Atwood, as they came out of school one afternoon, swinging their books by straps over their shoulders. "Going up to Dr. Dale's house to-night?" "You bet I am," replied Joe enthusiastically. "I wouldn't miss it for a farm. I'm keen to know more about this wireless business, and... more...

CHAPTER I. THE EAGLE AND THE BUZZARD. "Hurrah!" The shout went upward in a swelling volume of sound as a thousand voices took up the cry. "Say, those boys can fly!" "I should say so." "Did you see that swoop!" "Did I? I thought they were goners sure." "They handle that sky-clipper like a bicycle." These admiring exclamations came in a perfect hailstorm as... more...