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Fiction Books
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Grant Balfour
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...
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I. THE START One day in 1908, when my presidential term was coming to a close, Father Zahm, a priest whom I knew, came in to call on me. Father Zahm and I had been cronies for some time, because we were both of us fond of Dante and of history and of science—I had always commended to theologians his book, "Evolution and Dogma." He was an Ohio boy, and his early schooling had been obtained in...
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Juliet Bredon
CHAPTER I EARLY YEARS Robert Hart began his romantic life in simple circumstances. He was born on the 20th day of February, 1835, in a little white house with green shutters on Dungannon Street, in the small Irish town of Portadown, County Armagh, and was the eldest of twelve children. His mother, a daughter of Mr. John Edgar, of Ballybreagh, must have been a delightful woman, all tenderness and...
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A VILLAGE OPHELIA On the East end of Long Island, from Riverhead to Greenport, a distance of about thirty miles, two country roads run parallel. The North road is very near the Sound and away from the villages; lonely farm-houses are scattered at long intervals; in some places their number increases enough to form a little desolate settlement, but there is never a shop, nor sign of village life. That,...
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CHAPTER I THE CURSE OF WORRY Of how many persons can it truthfully be said they never worry, they are perfectly happy, contented, serene? It would be interesting if each of my readers were to recall his acquaintances and friends, think over their condition in this regard, and then report to me the result. What a budget of worried persons I should have to catalogue, and alas, I am afraid, how few of the...
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PAUL PATOFF. My dear lady—my dear friend—you have asked me to tell you a story, and I am going to try, because there is not anything I would not try if you asked it of me. I do not yet know what it will be about, but it is impossible that I should disappoint you; and if the proverb says, "Needs must when the devil drives," I can mend the proverb into a show of grace, and say, The most...
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CHAPTER I. FIRST GLIMPSE OF EDGAR POE. It may be regarded as a somewhat curious coincidence that the first glimpse afforded us of Edgar Poe is on the authority of my own mother. This is the story, as she told it to me: "In the summer of 1811 there was a fine company of players in Norfolk, and we children were as a special treat taken to see them. I remember the names of Mr. Placide, Mr. Green, Mr....
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Cedar Paul
THE FORERUNNERS ARA PACIS DE profundis clamans, out of the abyss of all the hates,To thee, Divine Peace, will I lift up my song. The din of the armies shall not drown it.Imperturbable, I behold the rising flood incarnadine,Which bears the beauteous body of mutilated Europe,And I hear the raging wind which stirs the souls of men. Though I stand alone, I shall be faithful to thee.I shall not take my...
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CHAPTER1 TROUBLE FOR MR. PARKER “Watch me coming down the mountain, Mrs. Weems! This one is a honey! An open christiana turn with no brakes dragging!” Penny Parker, clad in a new black and red snowsuit, twisted her agile young body sideways, causing the small rug upon which she stood to skip across the polished floor of the living room. She wriggled her slim hips again, and it slipped in the...
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Lafcadio Hearn
The Legend of L'Ile Derniere Travelling south from New Orleans to the Islands, you pass through a strange land into a strange sea, by various winding waterways. You can journey to the Gulf by lugger if you please; but the trip may be made much more rapidly and agreeably on some one of those light, narrow steamers, built especially for bayou-travel, which usually receive passengers at a point not...
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