Fiction Books

CHAPTER I A BOTHERSOME BAG "Mother, are you there?" "Yes, Marjorie; what is it, dear?" "Nothing. I just wanted to know. Is Kitty there?" "No; I'm alone, except for Baby Rosy. Are you bothered?" "Yes, awfully. Please tell me the minute Kitty comes. I want to see her." "Yes, dearie. I wish I could help you." "Oh, I wish you could! You'd be... more...

I. THE INLAND PORT. It was a bright forenoon, when I set foot on the beach at Burlington, and took leave of the two boatmen in whose little skiff I had voyaged since daylight from Peru. Not that we had come that morning from South America, but only from the New York shore of Lake Champlain. The highlands of the coast behind us stretched north and south, in a double range of bold, blue peaks, gazing... more...

PREFACE MORE than three years have elapsed since the occurrence of the events recorded in this volume. The interval, with the exception of the last few months, has been chiefly spent by the author tossing about on the wide ocean. Sailors are the only class of men who now-a-days see anything like stirring adventure; and many things which to fire-side people appear strange and romantic, to them seem as... more...

General Articles and Works. 1. The Philosophic Grammar of American Languages as set forth by Wilhelm von Humboldt; with the translation of an unpublished Memoir by him on the American Verb. pp. 51. In Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 1885. 2. On Polysynthesis and Incorporation as characteristics of American Languages. pp. 41. In Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 1885.... more...

CHAPTER I. OF HOW A BOY DRANK TOO MUCH WINE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT Andrea de Mancini sprawled, ingloriously drunk, upon the floor. His legs were thrust under the table, and his head rested against the chair from which he had slipped; his long black hair was tossed and dishevelled; his handsome, boyish face flushed and garbed in the vacant expression of idiocy. "I beg a thousand pardons, M. de... more...

Introduction I found myself in Twilight Land. How I ever got there I cannot tell, but there I was in Twilight Land. What is Twilight Land? It is a wonderful, wonderful place where no sun shines to scorch your back as you jog along the way, where no rain falls to make the road muddy and hard to travel, where no wind blows the dust into your eyes or the chill into your marrow. Where all is sweet and... more...

Chapter VI."But, by your leave,I am an officer of state, and comeTo speak with--"Coriolanus.Notwithstanding the sharp look which the Messenger of the Crown deliberately and now openly fastened on the master of Wish-Ton-Wish, while the latter was reading the instrument that was placed before his eyes, there was no evidence of uneasiness to be detected in the unmoved features of the latter. Mark... more...

CHAPTER I WHY VROUW BOTMAR TELLS HER TALE It is a strange thing that I, an old Boer vrouw, should even think of beginning to write a book when there are such numbers already in the world, most of them worthless, and many of the rest a scandal and offence in the face of the Lord. Notably is this so in the case of those called novels, which are stiff as mealie-pap with lies that fill the heads of silly... more...

INTRODUCTION. AS we very justly esteem it a fit Tribute of Admiration to adorn natural Curiosities, by setting them as richly and as advantageously as art can direct, so the following Observations of the Shepherd of Banbury have appeared to me worthy of being presented to the Eye of the Public, with all the Lustre that it was in my Power to give them. It is one thing to observe, and another to reason... more...

A PLEA FOR THE SIMPLER DRAMA It is with the drama as with plastic art and many other things: the plain man feels that he has a right to put in his word, but he is rather afraid that the art is beyond him, and he is frightened by technicalities. After all, these things are made for the plain man; his applause, in the long run and duly tested by time, is the main reward of the dramatist as of the painter... more...