Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. ROMANTIC ROBIN. I've found at last the hiding placeWhere the fairy people dwell,And to win the secrets of their raceI hold the long-sought spell.Havergal. One hundred years ago, in the great land of Canada, there lived a boy whose name was Robin. His home was in the grand old woods, with wapitis, wolves and bears. It was near the edge of a deep ravine that opened out on the east by a... more...

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION General.—Before proceeding to the more systematic treatment of the Phase Rule, it may, perhaps, be not amiss to give first a brief forecast of the nature of the subject we are about to study, in order that we may gain some idea of what the Phase Rule is, of the kind of problem which it enables us to solve, and of the scope of its application. It has long been known that if... more...

HIS GRACE MAKES ADVANCES The next morning I began casting about as to what I should do next. There was no longer any chance of getting at the secret from Dorothy, if secret there were. Whilst I am ruminating comes a great battling at the street door, and Jack Comyn blew in like a gust of wind, rating me soundly for being a lout and a blockhead. "Zooks!" he cried, "I danced the soles off my... more...

He stole a ride to the Moon in search of glory, but found a far different destiny. His eyes were a little feverish—as they had been of late—and his voice held a continuous intensity—as though he were imparting a secret. "I've got to get on that ship! I've got to, I tell you! And I'm going to make it!" Different members of the group regarded him variously, some with... more...

A CHARIOT OF FIRE When the White Mountain express to Boston stopped at Beverly, it slowed op reluctantly, crashed off the baggage, and dashed on with the nervousness of a train that is unmercifully and unpardonably late. It was a September night, and the channel of home-bound summer travel was clogged and heaving. A middle-aged man—a plain fellow, who was one of the Beverly passengers—stood for a... more...

CHAPTER IDitte's Family Tree It has always been considered a sign of good birth to be able to count one's ancestors for centuries back. In consequence of this, Ditte Child o' Man stood at the top of the tree. She belonged to one of the largest families in the country, the family of Man. No genealogical chart exists, nor would it be easy to work it out; its branches are as the sands of... more...

THE ketch drifted into the serene inclosure of the bay as silently as the reflections moving over the mirrorlike surface of the water. Beyond a low arm of land that hid the sea the western sky was a single, clear yellow; farther on the left the pale, incalculably old limbs of cypress, their roots bare, were hung with gathering shadows as delicate as their own faint foliage. The stillness was emphasized... more...

CHAPTER I MR. PUNCH AND THE CLOCK-TOWER When the Little Boy first went to the Old Tobacco Shop, he stood a long while before going in, to look at the wooden figure which stood beside the door. His father was sitting at home in his carpet-slippers, waiting for tobacco for his pipe, but when the Little Boy saw the wooden figure he forgot all about hurrying,—"Now don't be long," his mother... more...

ENTER MR. FEUERSTEIN On an afternoon late in April Feuerstein left his boarding-house in East Sixteenth Street, in the block just beyond the eastern gates of Stuyvesant Square, and paraded down Second Avenue. A romantic figure was Feuerstein, of the German Theater stock company. He was tall and slender, and had large, handsome features. His coat was cut long over the shoulders and in at the waist to... more...

One memorable night in Lonesome Cove the ranger of the county entered upon a momentous crisis in his life. What hour it was he could hardly have said, for the primitive household reckoned time by the sun when it shone, by the domestic routine when no better might be. It was late. The old crone in the chimney-corner nodded over her knitting. In the trundle-bed at the farther end of the shadowy room were... more...