Fiction Books

102. I was lately engaged in conversation with a friend who loves sceptical paradoxes; where, though he advanced many principles, of which I can by no means approve, yet as they seem to be curious, and to bear some relation to the chain of reasoning carried on throughout this enquiry, I shall here copy them from my memory as accurately as I can, in order to submit them to the judgement of the reader.... more...

CHAPTER I A QUESTION OF MIDSHIPMAN HONOR "How can a midshipman and gentleman act in that way?" The voice of Midshipman David Darrin, United States Navy, vibrated uneasily as he turned to his comrades. "It's a shame—that's what it is," quivered Mr. Farley, also of the third class at the United States Naval Academy. "But the question is," propounded... more...

CHAPTER I Upon a massive bench of polished ersite beneath the gorgeous blooms of a giant pimalia a woman sat. Her shapely, sandalled foot tapped impatiently upon the jewel-strewn walk that wound beneath the stately sorapus trees across the scarlet sward of the royal gardens of Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, as a dark-haired, red-skinned warrior bent low toward her, whispering heated words close to her... more...

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. The Tiber in Flood—Typhoid fever in Rome—Florence—A Jew acquaintance—Drinking in Provence—Buying bric-à-brac with the Jew—The carro on Easter Eve—Its real Origin—My Jew friend's letters—Italian dolce far niente. Conceive yourself confronted by a pop-gun, some ten feet in diameter, charged with mephitic vapours and plugged with microbes of typhoid fever.... more...

If there was one thing Dr. Kalmar hated, and there were many, it was having a new assistant fresh from a medical school on Earth. They always wanted to change things. They never realized that a planet develops its own techniques to meet its own requirements, which are seldom similar to those of any other world. Dr. Kalmar never got along with his assistants and he didn't expect to get along with... more...

CHAPTER I THE MARCH It was the close of the day. Over the baked veldt of Equatorial Africa a safari marched. The men, in single file, were reduced to the unimportance of moving black dots by the tremendous sweep of the dry country stretching away to a horizon infinitely remote, beyond which lay single mountains, like ships becalmed hull-down at sea. The immensities filled the world— the simple... more...

I. THE train had been greatly delayed during the night between Pisa and Civita Vecchia, and it was close upon nine o'clock in the morning when, after a fatiguing journey of twenty-five hours' duration, Abbe Pierre Froment at last reached Rome. He had brought only a valise with him, and, springing hastily out of the railway carriage amidst the scramble of the arrival, he brushed the eager... more...

V.—IN PURSUIT OF A PASSPORT.THE SIGN OF THE "STORK"."The Strasburgers have a legend—" We were rolling along very comfortably in the engineer's coach. From pavement to bridge, and from bridge to pavement, we effected the long step which bestrides the Rhine. "I knew you would prick your ears up at the word. Well, I have found a legend among the people here about the original... more...

Chapter One "Look for a man named Grim." There is a beautiful belief that journalists may do exactly as they please, and whenever they please. Pleasure with violet eyes was in Chicago. My passport describes me as a journalist. My employer said: "Go to Jerusalem." I went, that was in 1920. I had been there a couple of times before the World War, when the Turks were in full control. So I... more...

GENERAL INTRODUCTION. The circumstances under which these pages came to be written are rather peculiar. I am in favor of church unity, and I had thought of writing something that would tend to bring the churches into closer harmony. I am persuaded that their unity of doctrine is greater than is usually supposed; I endeavored to make this apparent by citing a long list of doctrines on which the churches... more...