Fiction Books

OLD SPOOKSES' PASS. I. We'd camp'd that night on Yaller Bull Flat—  Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me.Right smart at throwin' a lariat  Was them two fellers, as ever I see;An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar  With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule,Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar  Would hev made an'... more...

SIMPLE CARD TRICKS AN EASY METHOD OF FINDING A SELECTED CARD Throw the pack on the table and request to select a card. Then gather up the rest of the cards and request your friend to show his card to his neighbour, to avoid mistakes. While this is being done bend the pack slightly while pretending to shuffle it, and cause the card to be returned and the pack shuffled. The selected card can then be... more...

BOOK I CHAPTER I At the beginning of the long twilight of a summer evening, Sam McPherson, a tall big-boned boy of thirteen, with brown hair, black eyes, and an amusing little habit of tilting his chin in the air as he walked, came upon the station platform of the little corn-shipping town of Caxton in Iowa. It was a board platform, and the boy walked cautiously, lifting his bare feet and putting them... more...

GERMAN SOUP.—Good, fresh beef and some cracked bone are all important for soup making. The stock when nutritious, and properly prepared, forms the basis of meat soups. To make the stock great care must be taken in boiling the meat. Put your meat on in cold water, enough to cover the meat, set on the stove to boil, for four hours, slowly but steadily; never boil very fast. When meat becomes tender,... more...

VALLEY of the CROEN They say cross-eyed men are bad luck. He stood there, in my doorway, eyeing me up and down with those in-focused black eyes. His face was hideous even if the eyes had been normal. He was slashed with a wide cicatrice of livid scar tissue from one cheekbone across his nose and down to the button of his jaw on the other side. He was big, and he looked like bad news to me. I... more...

PREFACE. The only works which, so far as I know, profess to deal with English caricaturists and comic artists of the nineteenth century are two in number. The first is a work by the late Robert William Buss, embodying the substance of certain lectures delivered by the accomplished author many years ago. Mr. Buss’s book, which was published for private circulation only, deals more especially with the... more...

Jean Lanni could see that his girl friend, Judy Stokes, thought it was the lamest excuse she had ever heard. If your ballpoint pen won't write as you want it to, your life doesn't stop, she probably was thinking. You just get yourself another pen—You don't call off a marriage.... Skeptically the girl with the long, golden red hair pointed at his breast pocket. "This Droozle I must... more...

THE SCHOOLMASTER IN TROUBLE. Carl crept stealthily up the bank, and, peering through the window, saw the master writing at his desk. In his neat Quaker garb, his slender form bent over his task, his calm young face dimly seen in profile, there he sat. The room was growing dark; the glow of a March sunset was fading fast from the paper on which the swift pen traced these words:— "Tennessee is... more...

Chapter I. The Plainsman The man was riding just below the summit of the ridge, occasionally uplifting his head so as to gaze across the crest, shading his eyes with one hand to thus better concentrate his vision. Both horse and rider plainly exhibited signs of weariness, but every movement of the latter showed ceaseless vigilance, his glance roaming the barren ridges, a brown Winchester lying cocked... more...

THE GOD OF HIS FATHERS I On every hand stretched the forest primeval,—the home of noisy comedy and silent tragedy.  Here the struggle for survival continued to wage with all its ancient brutality.  Briton and Russian were still to overlap in the Land of the Rainbow’s End—and this was the very heart of it—nor had Yankee gold yet purchased its vast domain.  The wolf-pack still clung to the... more...