Fiction Books

CHAPTER VI. WELL, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he went for me, too, for not stopping school.  He catched me a couple of times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him or outrun him most of the time.  I didn't want to go to school much before, but I reckoned... more...

I. THE TALE OF THE PEACOCK TREES Squire Vane was an elderly schoolboy of English education and Irish extraction. His English education, at one of the great public schools, had preserved his intellect perfectly and permanently at the stage of boyhood. But his Irish extraction subconsciously upset in him the proper solemnity of an old boy, and sometimes gave him back the brighter outlook of a naughty... more...

District Leader Howard Morely leaned back in his seat, to glance down at the bay. Idly, he allowed his gaze to wander over the expanse of water between the two blunt points of land, then he looked back at the skeletonlike spire which jutted upward from the green hills he had just passed over. He could remember when that ruin had been a support for one of the world's great bridges. Now, a crumbling... more...

INTRODUCTION. The author left Quebec, Dominion of Canada, July 4, 1874, with a single assistant, in a wooden canoe eighteen feet in length, bound for the Gulf of Mexico. It was his intention to follow the natural and artificial connecting watercourses of the continent in the most direct line southward to the gulf coast of Florida, making portages as seldom as possible, to show how few were the... more...

THE MAROONS OF JAMAICA The Maroons! it was a word of peril once; and terror spread along the skirts of the blue mountains of Jamaica when some fresh foray of those unconquered guerrillas swept down from the outlying plantations, startled the Assembly from its order, Gen. Williamson from his billiards, and Lord Balcarres from his diplomatic ease,—endangering, according to the official statement,... more...

PREFACE. In this translation of a work rich in the raciest beauties and defects of an author long since made known to the British public, the present writer has striven to recast the trenchant humour, the scornful eloquence, the epigrammatic dash of Mr. Michelet, in language not all unworthy of such a word-master. How far he has succeeded others may be left to judge. In one point only is he aware of... more...

Chapter I “The Stowmarket Mystery”   “Mr. David Hume.” Reginald Brett, barrister-detective, twisted round in his easy-chair to permit the light to fall clearly on the card handed to him by his man-servant. “What does Mr. David Hume look like, Smith?” he asked. “A gentleman, sir.” Well-trained servants never make a mistake when they give such a description of a visitor. Brett was... more...

THE TWENTY-FIFTH OF SEPTEMBER Monsieur Aristide Brisson, the fat little proprietor of the Hotel du Nord—a modest house facing the Place Puget at Toulon—turned uneasily in his sleep, as though fretted by a disturbing dream; then he awoke with a start and rubbed his eyes. A glance at the dark windows showed that the dawn was yet far distant, and he was about to turn over and go thankfully to sleep... more...

EDITH TRIES TO EXPLAIN. “I do think Edith is the queerest girl I ever saw in all my life!” said Marty Ashford. “Don't jump up and down behind my chair that way, Marty,” said her mother; “you shake me so that I can scarcely hold my needle. What does Edith do that is so queer?” “Oh, she's always putting ten into things.” “Putting ten into things?” “Yes'm. I mean when... more...

From Istanbul, in Turkish Thrace, to Moscow, U.S.S.R., is only a couple of hours outing for a round trip in a fast jet plane—a shade less than eleven hundred miles in a beeline. Unfortunately, Mr. Raphael Poe had no way of chartering a bee. The United States Navy cruiser Woonsocket, having made its placid way across the Mediterranean, up the Aegean Sea, and through the Dardanelles to the Bosporous,... more...