Fiction Books

THE GIANT OF BERNAND ORM UNGERSWAYNE It was the lofty Jutt of Bern   O’er all the walls he grew;He was mad and ne’er at rest,   To tame him no one knew. He was mad and ne’er at rest,   No lord could hold him in;If he had long in Denmark stayed   Much damage there had been. It was the lofty Jutt of Bern   Bound to his side his glaive,And away to the monarch’s house he rode   With the... more...

Preface. The thirteenth century was one of rapid and terrible incidents, tumultuous politics, and in religious matters of low and degrading superstition. Transubstantiation had just been formally adopted as a dogma of the Church, accompanied as it always is by sacramental confession, and quickly followed by the elevation of the host and the invention of the pix. Various Orders of monks were flocking... more...

Daffydowndilly was so called because in his nature he resembled a flower, and loved to do only what was beautiful and agreeable, and took no delight in labor of any kind. But, while Daffydowndilly was yet a little boy, his mother sent him away from his pleasant home, and put him under the care of a very strict schoolmaster, who went by the name of Mr. Toil. Those who knew him best affirmed that this... more...

The farmer refused to work. His wife, a short thin woman with worried eyes, watched him while he sat before the kitchen table. He was thin, too, like his wife, but tall and tough-skinned. His face, with its leather look was immobile. "Why?" asked his wife. "Good reasons," the farmer said. He poured yellow cream into a cup of coffee. He let the cup sit on the table. "Henry?" said... more...

SUCH THINGS MAY NOT BE A few hours later Fleda slowly made her way homeward through the woods on the Manitou side of the Sagalac. Leaving Ingolby's house, she had seen men from the ranches and farms and mines beyond Lebanon driving or riding into the town, as though to a fair or fete-day. Word of anticipated troubles had sped through the countryside, and the innate curiosity of a race who greatly... more...

III.—THE FEAST OF SAINT ATHANASIUS. THE PAULISTS.As I parted from my stout old friend Joliet, I saw him turn to empty the last half of our bottle into the glasses of a couple of tired soldiers who were sucking their pipes on a bench. And again the old proverb of Aretino came into my head: "Truly all courtesy and good manners come from taverns." I grasped my botany-box and pursued my promenade... more...

"Would you mind repeating that?" "I said, sir, that Mr. Friden said, sir, that he sees a city." "A city?" "Yes sir." Captain Webber rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek. "You realize, of course, that that is impossible?" "Yes sir." "Send Mr. Friden in to see me, at once." The young man saluted and rushed out of the room. He returned with a... more...

CHAPTER I A SPIRIT CAGED The room was strange as the man, himself, who dwelt there. It seemed, in a way, the outward expression of his inner personality. He had ordered it built from his own plans, to please a whim of his restless mind, on top of the gigantic skyscraper that formed part of his properties. Windows boldly fronted all four cardinal compass-points—huge, plate-glass windows that gave a... more...

Everybody was waiting to see what the delegate from Venus looked like. And all they got for their patience was the biggest surprise since David clobbered Goliath. "Let me put it this way," Conners said paternally. "We expect a certain amount of decorum from our Washington news correspondents, and that's all I'm asking for." Jerry Bridges, sitting in the chair opposite his... more...

Chapter I Suckled were we in a school unkindOn suddenly snatched deductionAnd ever ahead of you (never behind!)Over the border our tracks you'll find,Wherever some idiot feels inclinedTo scatter the seeds of ruction. For eyes we be, of Empire, we!Skinned and Puckered and quick to seeAnd nobody guesses how wise we be.Unwilling to advertise we be.But, hot on the trail of ties, we beThe pullers of... more...