Fiction Books

A DIFFERENCE IN HEARTS "I DON' know as I cal'lated to be the makin' of any child," Miranda had said as she folded Aurelia's letter and laid it in the light-stand drawer. "I s'posed of course Aurelia would send us the one we asked for, but it's just like her to palm off that wild young one on somebody else." "You remember we said that Rebecca, or even... more...

CHAPTER I. DORA AND HER MOTHER. Poor little Dora Deane! How utterly wretched and desolate she was, as she crouched before the scanty fire, and tried to warm the little bit of worn-out flannel, with which to wrap her mother's feet; and how hard she tried to force back the tears which would burst forth afresh whenever she looked upon that pale, sick mother, and thought how soon she would be gone! It... more...

CHAPTER I. THE WANDERING JEW'S CHASTISEMENT. 'Tis night—the moon is brightly shining, the brilliant stars are sparkling in a sky of melancholy calmness, the shrill whistlings of a northerly wind—cold, bleak, and evil-bearing—are increasing: winding about, and bursting into violent blasts, with their harsh and hissing gusts, they are sweeping the heights of Montmartre. A man is standing... more...

I. THE OLD TAVERN AT BAYLEY'S FOUR CORNERS. You will not find Greenton, or Bayley's Four-Corners, as it is more usually designated, on any map of New England that I know of. It is not a town; it is not even a village; it is merely an absurd hotel. The almost indescribable place called Greenton is at the intersection of four roads, in the heart of New Hampshire, twenty miles from the nearest... more...

SOMETHING ABOUT MARS "Are we really in motion?" asked Jack, after a moment's silence. "It doesn't seem so." "We are certainly in motion," declared Mr. Roumann. "See this dial?" He pointed to one near the steering wheel. The hand on it was gently vibrating between some of the figures. "We are traveling that many miles a second," went on the scientist.... more...

CHAPTER I THE FIGHT IN THE FOREST Cold winter lay deep in the Canadian wilderness. Over it the moon was rising, like a red pulsating ball, lighting up the vast white silence of the night in a shimmering glow. Not a sound broke the stillness of the desolation. It was too late for the life of day, too early for the nocturnal roamings and voices of the creatures of the night. Like the basin of a great... more...

Chapter I Cross-RoadsIT was late November and a little snow had fallen. Three boys were on their way down Park Avenue to school—the Regal High. One of the boys, Frank Mulvy, carried his lunch in his pocket. He did not live far away, but his mother was to be out for the day and had put up a lunch for him. As the boys came down the avenue, an old man whom they had never seen before, met them. He asked... more...

The Crew pulsed with contentment, and its communal singing brought a pleasant kind of glow that throbbed gently in the control room. "'Has anybody here seen Kelly ... K-E-double-L-Y?'" "Shut up and dig my thought!" Kelly's stubborn will insisted. "I'm going on out for a while!" The delicate loom of the Crew's light pattern increased its frequency a... more...

A slab of shale obtained in 1955 by Mr. Russell R. Camp from a Pennsylvanian lagoon-deposit in Anderson County, Kansas, has yielded in the laboratory a skeleton of the small amphibian Hesperoherpeton garnettense Peabody (1958). This skeleton provides new and surprising information not available from the holotype, No. 9976 K. U., which consisted only of a scapulocoracoid, neural arch, and rib fragment.... more...

The greatest master of the short story our country has known found his inspiration and produced his best work in California. It is now nearly forty years since "The Luck of Roaring Camp" appeared, and a line of successors, more or less worthy, have been following along the trail blazed by Bret Harte. They have given us matter of many kinds, realistic, romantic, tragic, humorous, weird. In this... more...