Fiction Books

1. The Sinking My marriage aborted, my private practice stillborn, I packed stale possessions in two flabby suitcases and bade my sterile apartment a tearless goodbye. On the spur of the moment, I had applied a fortnight before to a government post and, to my consternation, had won it handily. I was probably the only applicant. It was an odd sort of job. The state authorities had just finished... more...

CHAPTER I THE BINDLES AT HOME "Women," remarked Bindle, as he gazed reflectively into the tankard he had just drained, "women is all right if yer can keep 'em from marryin' yer." "I don't 'old wiv women," growled Ginger, casting a malevolent glance at the Blue Boar's only barmaid, as she stood smirking at the other end of the long leaden counter.... more...

ike Mallison and Nicko were in the office when the new clients entered. A girl and an elderly man. The girl smiled at Mike. Then she looked at Nicko and a sharp involuntary scream got past her lips. "It's all right, lady," Mike said. "He won't hurt you. He never injures a client. Won't you sit down?" Nicko wasn't offended. He was used to women reacting that way at... more...

The Secret of the Island was another of the series of Voyages Extraordinaires which ran through a famous Paris magazine for younger readers, the Magasin Illustré. It formed the third and completing part of the Mysterious Island set of tales of adventure. We may count it, taken separately, as next to Robinson Crusoe and possibly Treasure Island, the best read and the best appreciated book in all that... more...

A COURT BALL "I recollect the time," said the Squire, "when two women going to a ball were a big enough load for any carriage. You may say what you like about crinolines, but I've seen some very pretty women in them in my time." There were three people in the carriage passing slowly up the Mall in the string, with little jerks and progressions. They were the Squire himself, Mrs.... more...

MOUSER CAT'S STORY. On that day last week when it stormed so very hard, your Aunt Amy was feeling very lonely, because all of her men and women friends in the house were busy, and it was not reasonable to suppose any of her bird or animal acquaintances would be out. As she sat by the window, watching the little streams of water as they ran down the glass, she said to herself that this was one of... more...

CHAPTER I. LUCCA. We are at Lucca. It is the 13th of September, 1870—the anniversary of the festival of the Volto Santo—a notable day, both in city, suburb, and province. Lucca dearly loves its festivals—no city more; and of all the festivals of the year that of the Volto Santo best. Now the Volto Santo (Anglicè, Holy Countenance) is a miraculous crucifix, which hangs, as may be seen, all by... more...

CHAPTER I "TWO TINY SPECKS OF NOTHING" "How do you feel, Dick! As spruce as you did an hour ago!" Candidate Greg Holmes put the question with a half-nervous laugh. He spoke in a whisper, too, as if to keep his agitation from reaching the notice of any of the score or more of other young men in the room of Mr. Ward, the aged notary at West Point. "I'll be glad when I see some... more...

CHAPTER I Enter Eleanor A child in a faded tam-o’-shanter that had once been baby blue, and a shoddy coat of a glaring, unpropitious newness, was sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a hansom seat, and gazing soberly out at the traffic of Fifth Avenue. The young man beside her, a blond, sleek, narrow-headed youth in eye-glasses, was literally making conversation with her. That is, he was engaged in a... more...

CHAPTER I. "Say, is it fate that has flung us together,We who from life's varied pathways thus meet?" IT was a broiling day at the end of July, and the railway station at Tiverton Junction was crowded with passengers. Porters wheeling great truckfuls of luggage strove to force a way along the thronged platform, anxious mothers held restless children firmly by the hand, harassed fathers... more...