Fiction Books

LITTLE LOST SISTER PROLOGUE They came up suddenly over a bit of rising ground, the mill-owner and his friend the writer and student of modern industries, and stood in full view of the factory. The air was sweet with scent of apple-blossoms. A song sparrow trilled in the poplar tree. “What do you think of our factory?” asked the man of business and of success, turning his keen, aggressive face... more...

Respected Friends, It is because I feel a deep and tender interest in your present and eternal welfare that I am willing thus publicly to address you. Some of you have loved me as a relative, and some have felt bound to me in Christian sympathy, and Gospel fellowship; and even when compelled by a strong sense of duty, to break those outward bonds of union which bound us together as members of the same... more...

The red-headed secretary asked, "Names, please?" "Ted Baker." "Bill Stephens." "To see H. Joshua Blair. We have an appointment." "It's for three-thirty. We called up two weeks ago." The secretary said, "Oh, yes. I have you on the list." She checked them off, studied them vaguely, asked, "What was it you wanted to see Mr. Blair about?" Ted... more...

"You, Mr. Rapp?" Stanley Rapp blinked, considering the matter. He always thought over everything very carefully. Of course, some questions were easier to answer than others. This one, for instance. He had very few doubts about his name. "Uh," Stanley Rapp said. "Yes. Yes." He stared at the bearded young man. Living in the Village, even on the better side of it, one saw beards... more...

There was once upon a time a child who had Good Luck for his godfather. "I am not Fortune," said Good Luck to the parents; "I have no gifts to bestow, but whenever he needs help I will be at hand." "Nothing could be better," said the old couple. They were delighted. But what pleases the father often fails to satisfy the son: moreover, every man thinks that he deserves just a... more...

CHAPTER I THE PLAY, A FORM OF STORY TELLING THE play is a form of story telling, among several such forms: the short story, or tale; the novel; and in verse, the epic and that abbreviated version of it called the ballad. All of them, each in its own fashion, is trying to do pretty much the same thing, to tell a story. And by story, as the word is used in this book, it will be well to say that I mean... more...

CHAPTER I I was about to say that I had known the Celebrity from the time he wore kilts. But I see I shall have to amend that, because he was not a celebrity then, nor, indeed, did he achieve fame until some time after I had left New York for the West. In the old days, to my commonplace and unobserving mind, he gave no evidences of genius whatsoever. He never read me any of his manuscripts, which I can... more...

New name combinations for two kinds of Central American sloths that heretofore have stood in the literature as nominal species are given below, along with the evidence supporting their relegation to subspecific rank. Research assistance has been provided from a contract (NR 161-791) between the Office of Naval Research, Department of the Navy, and the University of Kansas. Bradypus griseus ignavus... more...

CHAPTER 1 It was characteristic of the two that when the uproar broke out Vance Cornish raised his eyes, but went on lighting his pipe. Then his sister Elizabeth ran to the window with a swish of skirts around her long legs. After the first shot there was a lull. The little cattle town was as peaceful as ever with its storm-shaken houses staggering away down the street. A boy was stirring up the dust... more...

CHAPTER I. HISTORY AND A MYSTERY. If, in the month of July, 1794, an observing white man could have traveled unmolested from the banks of the Ohio river due north to the famous Maumee rapids, he would have been struck with the wonderful activity manifested in the various Indian villages on his route. No signs of idleness would have greeted his eye; the young warrior did not recline in the shadow of his... more...