Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. WHEN GREEN GRASS COMES Old Applehead Furrman, jogging home across the mesa from Albuquerque, sniffed the soft breeze that came from opal-tinted distances and felt poignantly that spring was indeed here. The grass, thick and green in the sheltered places, was fast painting all the higher ridges and foot-hill slopes, and with the green grass came the lank-bodied, big-kneed calves; which meant... more...

I The beauty of midsummer lay upon the land—the mountains and plains of Chihuahua. It was August, the month of melons and ripening corn. High aloft in the pale blue vault of heaven, a solitary eagle soared in ever widening circles in its flight toward the sun. Far out upon the plains the lone wolf skulked among the sage and cactus in search of the rabbit and antelope, or lay panting in the scanty... more...

Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother might go home to Mars without him. Worse, would a robot secretly take her place?... Tommy Benton, on his first visit to Earth, found the long-anticipated wonders of twenty-first-century New York thrilling the first week, boring and unhappy the second week, and at the end of the third he was definitely ready to go home. The never-ending racket of traffic was torture... more...

It was the nasty little boy from B Deck who had stolen her doll. She hated him. He was horrid. She slipped out of their stateroom while her Mom and Dad were dressing for dinner. She'd find that horrid little boy on B Deck. She'd scratch his eyes out. Her name was Robin Sinclair and she was five years old and mad enough to throw the boy from B Deck out into space, only she didn't know how... more...

INTRODUCTION As Curator of the Department of Birds of the American Museum of Natural History I have had exceptional facilities for the arrangement of collections designed to give students a comprehensive view of local bird-life without confusing them with unnecessary details. Among other aids to this end a collection of 'Birds Found within 50 Miles of New York' has been placed in a special... more...

The Verdurer’s Lodge. “Give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with that I will go buy me fortunes.” “Get you with him, you old dog.” As You Like It. The officials of the New Forest have ever since the days of the Conqueror enjoyed some of the pleasantest dwellings that southern England can boast. The home of the Birkenholt family was not one of the least delightful. It... more...

CHAPTER I A MESSAGE FROM THE WEST Surely it was no longer ago than yesterday. I had left the scythe lying at the edge of the long grass, and gone up through the rows of nodding Indian corn to the house, seeking a draught of cool water from the spring. It was hot in the July sunshine; the thick forest on every side intercepted the breeze, and I had been at work for some hours. How pleasant and inviting... more...

I "John!" "Yeh!" "Don't say 'yeh,' say 'yes,' Dorothy dear." "Yes, Dorothy de——" Sir John Dene was interrupted in his apology by a napkin-ring whizzing past his left ear. "What's wrong?" he enquired, laying aside his paper and picking up the napkin-ring. "I'm trying to attract your attention," replied Lady Dene,... more...

CHAPTER I On the first Sunday in the month of August, 1815, at ten o'clock precisely—as on every Sunday morning—the sacristan of the parish church at Sairmeuse sounded the three strokes of the bell which warn the faithful that the priest is ascending the steps of the altar to celebrate high mass. The church was already more than half full, and from every side little groups of peasants were... more...

HUSBANDRY Dealing with a man, said the night-watchman, thoughtfully, is as easy as a teetotaller walking along a nice wide pavement; dealing with a woman is like the same teetotaller, arter four or five whiskies, trying to get up a step that ain't there. If a man can't get 'is own way he eases 'is mind with a little nasty language, and then forgets all about it; if a woman... more...