Fiction Books

KATHLEEN I The Scorpions were to meet at eight o'clock and before that hour Kenneth Forbes had to finish the first chapter of a serial story. The literary society, named in accordance with the grotesque whim of Oxford undergraduates, consisted of eight members, and it was proposed that each one should contribute a chapter. Forbes was of a fertile wit, and he had been nominated the first operator.... more...

Chapter I Little Blue Overalls Miss Salome’s face was gently frowning as she wrote. “Dear John,” the letter began,—“It’s all very well except one thing. I wonder you didn’t think of that. I’m thinking of it most of the time, and it takes away so much of the pleasure of the rose-garden and the raspberry-bushes! Anne is in raptures over the raspberry-bushes. “Yes, the raspberries and... more...

INTRODUCTION "Though I am an Englishman, I must say the Irish soldiers have fought magnificently. They are the cream of the Army. Ireland may well be proud of her sons. Ireland has done her duty nobly. Irishmen are absolutely indispensable for our final triumph."—Letter from Brigadier-General W.B. Marshal, of the 29th Division, on service at the Dardanelles. "Your Irish soldiers are the... more...

CHAPTER FIRST. Whoe'er's been at Paris must needs know the Gre've,The fatal retreat of the unfortunate brave,Where honour and justice most oddly contribute,To ease heroes' pains by an halter and gibbet. There death breaks the shackles which force had put on,And the hangman completes what the judge but began;There the squire of the poet, and knight of the post,Find their pains no... more...

CHAPTER I The blowpipe was first applied to mineral analysis in 1733 by Anton Swab, and its applications have since been improved and extended by various chemists, among whom may be mentioned Bergmann, Cronstedt, Gahn, Berzelius, and Plattner. Blowpipe.—The common blowpipe of the jeweller is not particularly well suited to the operations of blowpipe analysis, since the flame has often to be kept... more...

CHAPTER I Excuse me, mister man, but ain't you—Hello, yourself! Blamed if I didn't think there was somethin' kind of natural about the looks, as you come pikin' by. How're they runnin', eh? Well say, I ain't seen you since we used to hit up the grammar school together. You've seen me, eh? Oh, sure! I'd forgot. That was when you showed up at the old... more...

THE OCTOBER LAND I sat on the ground with my youthful legs tucked under me, and the bridle rein of El Mahdi over my arm, while I hammered a copper rivet into my broken stirrup strap. A little farther down the ridge Jud was idly swinging his great driving whip in long, snaky coils, flicking now a dry branch, and now a red autumn leaf from the clay road. The slim buckskin lash would dart out hissing,... more...

No description available

CHAPTER I. Containing an account of his life, from his birth to the time of his leaving his native country. I was born at Dukandarra, in Guinea, about the year 1729. My father's name was Saungm Furro, Prince of the Tribe of Dukandarra. My father had three wives. Polygamy was not uncommon in that country, especially among the rich, as every man was allowed to keep as many wives as he could... more...

Chapter I It had just struck nine from the cuckoo clock that hung over the mantelpiece in the dining-room, when Victorine brought in the halved watermelon and set it in front of Mr. Bessemer's plate. Then she went down to the front door for the damp, twisted roll of the Sunday morning's paper, and came back and rang the breakfast-bell for the second time. As the family still hesitated to... more...