Fiction Books

CHAPTER I THE GIRL WHO TOOK A DARE "Attention, children! Close copy books and pass them to the right. Monitors, collect." Tired Miss Phelps laid down her crayon, with one sweep of her arm erased the letter exercises she had so laboriously traced on the blackboard for her fifty pupils to copy, wiped the clinging chalk from her dry, chapped hands, and sank wearily into her chair beside the... more...

"When you come to reflect that there are only a few planks between you and the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, it makes you feel sort of pensive." "I beg your pardon?" The stranger, smoking his cigarette in the lee of the deck-cabins, turned his head sharply in the direction of the voice. He encountered the wide, unembarrassed gaze of a girl's grey eyes. She had evidently just come... more...

THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with a despondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in his hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair, eyed him with some heat. "My feelings'll never change," said the boatswain. "Nor mine either," said the landlady, sharply. "It's a strange... more...

"REMEMBER ME." "Remember me!" How swift the tide   Of memory glideth o'er the past;Those sunny hours so quickly sped,   Perchance a few with clouds o'ercast.But memory hath more lasting flowers,   Which Time's rude hand can ne'er efface,The sweets we cull from friendship's bowers,   The gems affection's altar grace. "Remember me!" In... more...

Two king-sized bands blared martial music, the "Internationale" and the "Star-Spangled Banner," each seemingly trying to drown the other in a Götterdämmerung of acoustics. Two lines of troops, surfacely differing in uniforms and in weapons, but basically so very the same, so evenly matched, came to attention. A thousand hands slapped a thousand submachine gun stocks. Marshal Vladimir... more...

CHAPTER I. "Per ambages et ministeria deorum."—PETRONTUS. [Through the mysteries and ministerings of the gods.] Mr. Roger Morton was behind his counter one drizzling, melancholy day. Mr. Roger Morton, alderman, and twice mayor of his native town, was a thriving man. He had grown portly and corpulent. The nightly potations of brandy and water, continued year after year with mechanical... more...

CHAPTER I Little Miss Severance sat with her hands as cold as ice. The stage of her coming adventure was beautifully set—the conventional stage for the adventure of a young girl, her mother's drawing-room. Her mother had the art of setting stages. The room was not large,—a New York brownstone front in the upper Sixties even though altered as to entrance, and allowed to sprawl backward over... more...

CHAPTER ONE THE COURAGE OF SELF-CONQUESTTHE highest courage is impossible without self-conquest. And self-conquest is never easy. A man may be a marvel of physical courage, and be a coward in matters of self-government. Failure here threatens dire disaster to his entire career.Alexander the Great conquered most of the world he knew, but he permitted his lower nature to conquer his better self, and he... more...

CHAPTER I "Get out o' Mr. Fletcher's road, ye idle, lounging, little—" "Vagabond," I think the woman (Sally Watkins, once my nurse), was going to say, but she changed her mind. My father and I both glanced round, surprised at her unusual reticence of epithets: but when the lad addressed turned, fixed his eyes on each of us for a moment, and made way for us, we ceased to... more...

CHAPTER I The Jovian Tyrant Glavour, Jovian Viceroy of the Earth, looked arrogantly about as he lay at ease on the cushions of the ornate chariot which bore him through the streets of his capital city. Like all the Jovians, he was cast in a heroic mold compared to his Earth-born subjects. Even for a Jovian, Glavour was large. He measured a good eight feet from the soles of his huge splayed feet to the... more...