Fiction Books

Chapter I It was Warrington's invariable habit—when no business or social engagement pressed him to go elsewhere—to drop into a certain quaint little restaurant just off Broadway for his dinners. It was out of the way; the throb and rattle of the great commercial artery became like the far-off murmur of the sea, restful rather than annoying. He always made it a point to dine alone,... more...

The man tried his best to sell me the house. He was confident that I would like it. Repeatedly he called my attention to the view. There was something in what he said about the view. The villa on the top of a mountain commanded a vision of the valley, vine-clad and cottage-studded. It was an irregular bowl of green, dotted with stone houses which were whitewashed to almost painful brilliancy. The... more...

REGINALD I did it—I who should have known better.  I persuaded Reginald to go to the McKillops’ garden-party against his will. We all make mistakes occasionally. “They know you’re here, and they’ll think it so funny if you don’t go.  And I want particularly to be in with Mrs. McKillop just now.” “I know, you want one of her smoke Persian kittens as a prospective wife for Wumples—or... more...

NICHOLAS NEKRASSOV: A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE Western Europe has only lately begun to explore the rich domain of Russian literature, and is not yet acquainted with all even of its greatest figures. Treasures of untold beauty and priceless value, which for many decades have been enlarging and elevating the Russian mind, still await discovery here. Who in England, for instance, has heard the names of... more...

Volume One--Chapter One. And what is this new book the whole world makes such a rout about?—Oh! ’tis out of all plumb, my lord,—quite an irregular thing; not one of the angles at the four corners was a right angle. I had my rule and compasses, my lord, in my pocket.—Excellent critic! Grant me patience, just Heaven! Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world—though the cant of... more...

CHAPTER I. WHEREIN THEY KILL THE FATTED CALF TO CELEBRATE THE RETURN OF A FRUGAL SON. On the 18th of May, 1859, M. Renault, formerly professor of physics and chemistry, now a landed proprietor at Fontainebleau, and member of the Municipal Council of that charming little city, himself carried to the post-office the following letter:— "To Monsieur Leon Renault, Civil Engineer, Berlin, Prussia. (To... more...

"Oliver Cromwell struck a mortal blow at the universal heart of Flunkyism," wrote Carlyle of the execution of Charles I. Yet, Flunkyism is not dead! In the United States alone more than 5,000,000 persons derive their incomes, in whole or in part, from "tips," or gratuities. They have the moral malady denominated The Itching Palm. Tipping is the modern form of Flunkyism. Flunkyism may be... more...

I. TOBY'S INTRODUCTION TO THE CIRCUS "Wouldn't you give more 'n six peanuts for a cent?" was a question asked by a very small boy, with big, staring eyes, of a candy vender at a circus booth. And as he spoke he looked wistfully at the quantity of nuts piled high up on the basket, and then at the six, each of which now looked so small as he held them in his hand.... more...

OH, SUSANNAH! Somewhere in this book I must write a paragraph exclusively about myself. The fact that in the outcome of all these stirring events I have ended as a mere bookkeeper is perhaps a good reason why one paragraph will be enough. In my youth I had dreams a-plenty; but the event and the peculiar twist of my own temperament prevented their fulfilment. Perhaps in a more squeamish age–and yet... more...

MYSTERY NO. I SHIN SHIRA APPEARS It was very remarkable how I first came to make his acquaintance at all. Shin Shira I mean. I had been sitting at my desk, writing, for quite a long time, when suddenly I heard, as I thought, a noise in another part of the room. I turned my head hastily and looked towards the door, but it was fast closed and there was apparently nobody in the room but myself.... more...