Fiction Books

It is a sea, though they call it sand. They call it sand because it is still and red and dense with grains. They call it sand because the thin wind whips it, and whirls its dusty skim away to the tight horizons of Mars. But only a sea could so brood with the memory of aeons. Only a sea, lying so silent beneath the high skies, could hint the mystery of life still behind its barren veil. To practical,... more...

CHAPTER I It was the writing guy who drew this story out of Captain Shreve. He talked so much I think the Old Man spun the yarn just to shut him up. He had talked ever since his arrival on board, early that morning, with a letter from the owners' agent, and the announcement he intended making the voyage with us. He had weak lungs, he said, and was in search of mild, tropical breezes. Also, he was... more...

I receivedthe following letter from an old friend soon after the last edition of this book was published, and resolved, if ever another edition were called for, to print it. For it is clear from this and other like comments, that something more should have been said expressly on the subject of bullying, and how it is to be met."My dear ——, "I blame myself for not having earlier suggested... more...

CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG RIVALS. The main schoolroom in the Millville Academy was brilliantly lighted, and the various desks were occupied by boys and girls of different ages from ten to eighteen, all busily writing under the general direction of Professor George W. Granville, Instructor in Plain and Ornamental Penmanship. Professor Granville, as he styled himself, was a traveling teacher, and generally... more...

PART FIRST. "The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. "I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. "When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water. "Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: "While as yet he had not made the earth, nor... more...

Strange Intruder Sime Hemingway did not sleep well his first night on Mars. There was no tangible reason why he shouldn't. His bed was soft. He had dined sumptuously, for this hotel's cuisine offered not only Martian delicacies, but drew on Earth and Venus as well.Sime Hemingway, of the I. F. P., strikes at the insidious interests that are lashing high the war feeling between Earth and... more...

LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Probably some of the readers of this volume will feel an interest in the author's life. Although there are but few works, in which the mind of the author is more clearly and purely reflected than in this; yet it is natural that the reader should feel some interest in the outward circumstances of one, who has become dear to him; and those friends of Novalis, who have never known... more...

CHAPTER ONE. HOW LITTLE JACKET WOULD GO TO SEA. I dare say there are not many of my young readers who have heard about Jacky Cable, the sailor-boy, and of his wonderful adventures on Huggermugger's Island. Jacky was a smart Yankee lad, and was always remarkable for his dislike of staying at home, and a love of lounging upon the wharves, where the sailors used to tell him stories about sea-life.... more...

The first cause, so far as it can be determined, of the existence of this book may be found in the following letter, written by my only married sister, and received by me, Harry Burton, salesman of white goods, bachelor, aged twenty-eight, and received just as I was trying to decide where I should Spend a fortnight's vacation:— "HILLCREST, June 15, 1875. "DEAR HARRY:—Remembering that... more...

OT really; you can't mean it really!""As true as possible. Mother told me her very own self," was the emphatic reply. Two children, brother and sister, the boy aged ten, the girl three years older, were carrying on this conversation in the garden of a country rectory. "But really and truly, on your word of honour," repeated Leonard, as though he could not believe what his sister... more...