Fiction Books

CHAPTER I Bunny and Susan Cotton-Tail sat by the fire one winter evening warming their paws. "What's that?" asked Bunny. "What's that?" asked Susan. They went to the window and saw a very little Bunny stuck fast in a snowdrift. "Help, help," cried Bunny, "I will get the snow-shovel." "Help, help," cried Susan, "I will get the wheelbarrow." Bunny... more...

CHAPTER I PETE’S GIRL She stood in the doorway, a patched and ragged Cinderella of the desert. Upon her slim, ill-poised figure the descending sun slanted a shaft of glory. It caught in a spotlight the cheap, dingy gown, the coarse stockings through the holes of which white flesh peeped, the heavy, broken brogans that disfigured the feet. It beat upon a small head with a mass of black, wild-flying... more...

THE FORWARD. "To-morrow, at the turn of the tide, the brig Forward, K. Z., captain, Richard Shandon, mate, will clear from New Prince's Docks; destination unknown." This announcement appeared in the Liverpool Herald of April 5, 1860. The sailing of a brig is not a matter of great importance for the chief commercial city of England. Who would take notice of it in so great a throng of ships... more...

He was standing at the side of the glassite super-highway, his arm half-raised, thumb pointed in the same direction as that of the approaching rocket car. Ordinarily Frederick Marden would have passed a hitch-hiker without stopping, but there was something in the bearing and appearance of this one that caused him to apply his brakes. Marden opened the door next to the vacant seat beside him. "Going... more...

IN THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS Like the great rest that cometh after pain,The calm that follows storm, the great surcease,This folding slumber comforts wood and plainIn one white mantling peace.—WILLIAM WILFRED CAMPBELL. The storm was over, the snow had ceased falling, and under its muffling mantle, white and spent with the day's struggle, lay the great swamp of the Oro. It seemed to hold in its... more...

CHAPTER ITHE AFFAIR OF THE IVORY BOXES There was a substantial aspect about Blenheim Square, not of that monotonous type which characterizes so many London squares, but a certain grace and consciousness of well-being. The houses, though maintaining some uniformity, possessed individuality, and in the season were gay with window-boxes and flowers; the garden in the center was not too stereotyped in its... more...

He was a gigantic figure, sitting there atop the mountain. He could have leaned over and dammed the river below with a finger. He sat on top of the mountain, and his beard in the wind was a white flag. Across the plains, as he watched, there were fires glowing, and the mountain under him trembled from explosions a thousand miles away. He bent his head, and a muffled cry reverberated down the hillside... more...

INTRODUCTION. I.—THE ORIGIN AND SCOPE OF LOGIC. The question has sometimes been asked, Where should we begin in Logic? Particularly within the present century has this difficulty been felt, when the study of Logic has been revived and made intricate by the different purposes of its cultivators. Where did the founder of Logic begin? Where did Aristotle begin? This seems to be the simplest way of... more...

WAYEESES THE STRONG ONE The Old Wolf's Challenge We were beating up the Straits to the Labrador when a great gale swooped down on us and drove us like a scared wild duck into a cleft in the mountains, where the breakers roared and the seals barked on the black rocks and the reefs bared their teeth on either side, like the long jaws of a wolf, to snap at us as we passed. In our flight we had picked... more...

CUPBOARD LOVE In the comfortable living-room at Negget's farm, half parlour and half kitchen, three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November afternoon. Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, owing to Mrs. Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, behind which she was convinced the servant was listening, and checking the finest periods and the most... more...