Fiction Books

I Was very glad when I heard that one Monsieur de Cros had published an Answer to a late Book, Entituled, Memoirs of what pass’d in Christendom, &c. And could not but expect some considerable Discoveries in those Affairs and Intriegues, from a person who thought himself a Match for Sir W. T. Besides, I hoped it might have had this good Effect, to move that Author in his own defence to oblige us... more...

WHENCE AND WHY The chapters of this book were originally articles in Everybody’s Magazine. I have not embellished them with footnotes nor given them any other part of the panoply of critical apparatus. It could be done. I have preferred to leave them in the dress I first gave them,—a fighting dress. They owe much of their structure, it is true, to facts and ideas out of the dust of libraries. But... more...

SOME INFORMAL PRELIMINARY REMARKS The noted Brazilian critic, José Verissimo, in a short but important essay on the deficiencies of his country's letters, has expressed serious doubt as to whether there exists a genuinely Brazilian literature. "I do not know," he writes, "whether the existence of an entirely independent literature is possible without an entirely independent... more...

COMANCHE Coming to Comanche, you stopped, for Comanche was the end of the world. Unless, of course, you were one of those who wished to push the boundary-line of the world farther, to make homes in the wilderness where there had been no homes, to plant green fields in the desert where none had been before. In that case you merely paused at Comanche, like the railroad, to wait the turn of events. Beyond... more...

CHAPTER I. SEC. 1.—LANDED PROPERTY. The Romans were a people that originally gave their almost exclusive attention to agriculture and stock-raising. The surnames of the most illustrious families, as Piso (miller), Porcius (swine-raiser), Lactucinius (lettuce-raiser), Stolo (a shoot), etc., prove this. To say that a man was a good farmer was, at one time, to bestow upon him the highest praise.[1] This... more...

POETIC SKETCHES ON THE DEATH OF LORD NELSON. Swift through the land while Fame transported flies,And shouts triumphant shake the illumin'd skies;Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows,With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,In joy dejected, sees her triumph crost,Exults in Victory won, but mourns the Victor lost.Immortal Nelson! still with fond amaze,Thy glorious deeds each... more...

CHAPTER I. THE DOCTOR’S INVENTORY. It was a bold project of Hatteras to push his way to the North Pole, and gain for his country the honour and glory of its discovery. But he had done all that lay in human power now, and, after having struggled for nine months against currents and tempests, shattering icebergs and breaking through almost insurmountable barriers, amid the cold of an unprecedented... more...

Once upon a planet there was a mighty warlord. The warlord's name was Miotis. Some might think it an odd name, but then it is entirely probable that the people of this planet would think the name of Smith or Jenkovitz odd. Be that as it may, however, the important thing is that Miotis was the name of this warlord, whatever one may feel about his name. Now, Miotis was not just a mighty warrior, he... more...

A Lover in Homespun. Onesime Charest, farmer, of L'Orignal, was a happy man. As he drove through the quaint little French-Canadian village, on his way to the railway station, he was saluted by the villagers with much ceremony. Everyone knew perfectly well just what it was that was taking farmer Charest to the station this beautiful hazy afternoon. Over a week had now elapsed since he received the... more...

"Why shouldn't we collaborate?" said Henley in his most matter-of-fact way, as Big Ben gave voice to the midnight hour. "Everybody does it nowadays. Two heads may be really better than one, although I seldom believe in the truth of accepted sayings. Your head is a deuced good one, Andrew; but—now don't get angry—you are too excitable and too intense to be left quite to... more...