Fiction Books

The Road Through the San Fernando Valley, toward the hills of Calabasas runs that old road, El Camino Real of the early Mission days. And now replicas of old Mission bells, each suspended in solitary dignity from a rusted iron rod, mark intervals along the dusty way, once a narrow trail worn by the patient feet of that gentle and great padre, Junípero Serra,—a trail from the San Gabriel Valley... more...

CHAPTER I Iranian literary tradition in the opening centuries of Islam 1 The character of the Persian history during the Sasanian epoch 6 Importance of this epoch according to the Arab writers of the first centuries of Islam 10 The position of the Parsi community and the centres of the preservation of Persian tradition during the period of the Khalifat in Tabaristan, Khorasan and Fars 15 The castle of... more...

In introducing this new writer to the English-speaking public, I may be permitted to give a few particulars of himself and his life. Stijn Streuvels is accepted not only in Belgium, but also in Holland as the most distinguished Low-Dutch author of our time: his vogue, in fact, is even greater in the North Netherlands than in the southern kingdom. And I will go further and say that I know no greater... more...

You've heard, I'm sure, about the two Martians who went into a bar, saw a jukebox flashing and glittering, and said to it, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this?" Well, here's one about two Capellans and a slot-machine....TORYL pointed the small crypterpreter toward the wooden, horseshoe-shaped sign. The sign's legend was carved in bright yellow... more...

CHAPTER I. I was born in the year one, of the present or Christian hera, and am, in consquints, seven-and-thirty years old. My mamma called me Charles James Harrington Fitzroy Yellowplush, in compliment to several noble families, and to a sellybrated coachmin whom she knew, who wore a yellow livry, and drove the Lord Mayor of London. Why she gev me this genlmn's name is a diffiklty, or rayther the... more...

When Mr. Hutchinson. Port, a single gentleman who admitted that he was forty-seven years old and who actually was rising sixty, of strongly fixed personal habits, and with the most positive opinions upon every conceivable subject, came to know that by the death of his widowed sister he had been placed in the position of guardian of that sister's only daughter, Dorothy, his promptly formed and... more...

The Manner in Which Mr. Edward Middleton Encounters the Emir Achmed Ben Daoud. It was a lowering and gloomy night in the early part of the present century. Mr. Edward Middleton, a gallant youth, who had but lately passed his twenty-third year, was faring northward along the southern part of that famous avenue of commerce, Clark Street, in the city of Chicago, wending his way toward the emporium of Mr.... more...

CHAPTER I—BARBOX BROTHERS I. “Guard!  What place is this?” “Mugby Junction, sir.” “A windy place!” “Yes, it mostly is, sir.” “And looks comfortless indeed!” “Yes, it generally does, sir.” “Is it a rainy night still?” “Pours, sir.” “Open the door.  I’ll get out.” “You’ll have, sir,” said the guard, glistening with drops of wet, and looking at the tearful... more...

CHAPTER I Many patterns of carpet lay rolled out before them on the floor—two of Brussels showed the beginning of their quest, and its ending in that direction; while a score of ingrains lured their eyes and prolonged the debate between desire pocket-book.  The head of the department did them the honor of waiting upon them himself—or did Joe the honor, as she well knew, for she had noted the... more...

THE DUEL I It was eight o'clock in the morning—the time when the officers, the local officials, and the visitors usually took their morning dip in the sea after the hot, stifling night, and then went into the pavilion to drink tea or coffee. Ivan Andreitch Laevsky, a thin, fair young man of twenty-eight, wearing the cap of a clerk in the Ministry of Finance and with slippers on his feet, coming... more...