Fiction Books

THE CLASH OF RACE In the King's House at Spanish Town the governor was troubled. All his plans and prophecies had come to naught. He had been sure there would be no rebellion of the Maroons, and he was equally sure that his career would be made hugely successful by marriage with Sheila Llyn—but the Maroons had revolted, and the marriage was not settled! Messages had been coming from the... more...

HEADSTRONG AND HEADLONG Far from any house or hut, in the depth of dreary moor-land, a road, unfenced and almost unformed, descends to a rapid river. The crossing is called the "Seven Corpse Ford," because a large party of farmers, riding homeward from Middleton, banded together and perhaps well primed through fear of a famous highwayman, came down to this place on a foggy evening, after heavy... more...

CHAPTER I Peter Knight flung himself into the decrepit arm-chair beside the center-table and growled: "Isn't that just my luck? And me a Democrat for twenty years.There's nothing in politics, Jimmy." His son James smiled crookedly, with a languid tolerance bespeaking amusement and contempt. James prided himself upon his forbearance, and it was rarely indeed that he betrayed more than... more...

CHAPTER I. BY WAY OF BEGINNING. It was not just an ordinary sort of name, but one of those which made you think "thereby hangs a tale." In this case the thought goes to the mark, and the tale in question will be told after a fashion in the following pages. At the outset a quick glance back to times long past is necessary in order to a fair start, and without a fair start it were hardly worth... more...

MOTHERNOOK. THE EASTERN SHORE OF MARYLAND.One day, worn out with head and pen,And the debate of public men,I said aloud, "Oh! if there wereSome place to make me young awhile,I would go there, I would go there,And if it were a many a mile!"Then something cried—perhaps my map,That not in vain I oft invoke—"Go seek again your mother's lap,The dear old soil that gave you sap,And see... more...

DUST In the dull hot dusk of a summer's day a green touring-car, swinging out of the East Drive, pulled up smartly, trembling, at the edge of the Fifty-ninth Street car-tracks, then more sedately, under the dispassionate but watchful eye of a mounted member of the Traffic Squad, lurched across the Plaza and merged itself in the press of vehicles south-bound on the Avenue. Its tonneau held four... more...

Once upon a time there was a lad named Jacob Boehm, who was a practical huntsman. One day Jacob said to his mother, "Mother, I would like to marry Gretchen—the nice, pretty little daughter of the Herr Mayor." Jacob's mother thought that he was crazy. "Marry the daughter of the Herr Mayor, indeed! You want to marry the daughter of the Herr Mayor? Listen; many a man wants and wants,... more...

CHAPTER I OUT FOR PRACTICE "Oh, what a splendid kick!" The yellow pigskin football went whizzing through the air, turning over and over in its erratic flight. "Wow! Look at old Sorreltop run, will you?" "He's bound to get under it, too. That's going some, fellows! Oh, shucks!" "Ha! ha! a fumble and a muff, after all! That's too bad, after such a great gallop.... more...

CHAPTER I THE SHINING SHIP She was kneeling on the hearthrug, grasping the poker firmly in one hand. Now and again she gave the fire a truculent prod with it as though to emphasise her remarks. "'Ask and ye shall receive'! . . . 'Tout vient à point à celui qui sait attendre'! Where on earth is there any foundation for such optimism, I'd like to know?" A sleek brown... more...

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