Fiction Books

Changes at Spindrift The sounds of hammer and saw had disturbed Spindrift Island for several days, and Rick Brant was having a hard time getting used to it. The noise didn't bother him. It was the idea behind the noise—the idea that the close fellowship of the famous island was about to be intruded upon by strangers. He sat in a comfortable chair on the front porch of the big Brant house and... more...

CHAPTER V Mr. Chalk's expedition to the Southern Seas became a standing joke with the captain, and he waylaid him on several occasions to inquire into the progress he was making, and to give him advice suitable for all known emergencies at sea, together with a few that are unknown. Even Mr. Chalk began to tire of his pleasantries, and, after listening to a surprising account of a Scotch vessel... more...

I Jean Servien was born in a back-shop in the Rue Notre-Dame des Champs. His father was a bookbinder and worked for the Religious Houses. Jean was a little weakling child, and his mother nursed him at her breast as she sewed the books, sheet by sheet, with the curved needle of the trade. One day as she was crossing the shop, humming a song, in the words of which she found expression for the vague,... more...

CHAPTER I. The platform at Euston was crowded, and the porters' barrows piled high with luggage. During the last week in July the Irish mail carries a heavy load of passengers, and for the twenty minutes before its departure people are busy endeavouring to secure their own comfort and the safety of their belongings. There are schoolboys, with portmanteaux, play-boxes, and hand-bags, escaping home... more...

CHAPTER I ASCENDI Honora did not go back to Quicksands. Neither, in this modern chronicle, shall we. The sphere we have left, which we know is sordid, sometimes shines in the retrospect. And there came a time, after the excitement of furnishing the new house was over, when our heroine, as it were, swung for a time in space: not for a very long time; that month, perhaps, between autumn and winter. We... more...

THE LAKE OF THE WHITE CANOE.Wo! Wo! WoWo to the sons of the far-off land,Weak in heart and pale in face,Deer in battle, moose in a race,Panthers wanting claw and toothWo to the red man, strong of hand,Steady of purpose, lithe of limb,Calm in the toils of the foe,Knowing nor tears nor ruthWo to them and him,If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp,Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp,That skirts... more...

ACT I. SCENE I.—The Hall of an Inn. Enter TOM FASHION and LORY, POSTILION following with a portmanteau. Fash. Lory, pay the postboy, and take the portmanteau. Lory. [Aside to TOM FASHION.] Faith, sir, we had better let the postboy take the portmanteau and pay himself. Fash. [Aside to LORY.] Why, sure, there's something left in it! Lory. Not a rag, upon my honour, sir! We eat the last of your... more...

THE LINE-RIDER Day was breaking in the Panhandle. The line-rider finished his breakfast of buffalo-hump, coffee, and biscuits. He had eaten heartily, for it would be long after sunset before he touched food again. Cheerfully and tunelessly he warbled a cowboy ditty as he packed his supplies and prepared to go. "Oh, it's bacon and beans most every day,I'd as lief be eatin' prairie... more...

Optimism Within ould we choose our environment, and were desire in human undertakings synonymous with endowment, all men would, I suppose, be optimists. Certainly most of us regard happiness as the proper end of all earthly enterprise. The will to be happy animates alike the philosopher, the prince and the chimney-sweep. No matter how dull, or how mean, or how wise a man is, he feels that happiness is... more...

The Author of the Memoirs had so little to apprehend in his Reputation either at home or abroad from the feeble Efforts of Monsieur de Cross in his late trifling Invective, that had it not been for the repeated Instances of some Friends, who were unwilling to have such a wretched Scribler escape unpunished, he had never condescended to the severe penance of sitting an hour upon him. To their... more...