Fiction Books

THE VIGIL "I'm the happiest man in the world," said Mr. Farrer, in accents of dreamy tenderness. Miss Ward sighed. "Wait till father comes in," she said. Mr. Farrer peered through the plants which formed a welcome screen to the window and listened with some uneasiness. He was waiting for the firm, springy step that should herald the approach of ex-Sergeant-Major Ward. A squeeze of... more...

Vignettes. I. If writing Journals were my task, From cottagers to kings— A little book I'd only ask, And fill it full of wings!   Each pair should represent a day: On some the sun should rise, While others bent their mournful way Through cold and cloudy skies.   And here I would the light'ning bring With threatening, forked glare; And there the hallowed rainbow fling Across the troubled... more...

CHAPTER I. THE VOYAGE. An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered. The want of means was for a time a serious check to my anticipations; but I could not content myself to wait until I had slowly accumulated so large a sum as... more...

Reign of Edward I.—Confirmatio Chartarum—Constitution of Parliament—the Prelates—the Temporal Peers—Tenure by Barony—its Changes—Difficulty of the Subject—Origin of Representation of the Commons—Knights of Shires—their Existence doubtfully traced through the Reign of Henry III.—Question whether Representation was confined to Tenants in capite discussed—State of English Towns at... more...

CHAPTER I THE ONLY HOPE 'To a large extent the working people of this country do not care any more for the doctrines of Christianity than the upper classes care for the practice of that religion.'—JOHN BRIGHT in the year 1880. It is wonderful how quickly, when a peril is past, men forget about it and straightway compose themselves to slumbrous dreams again. It was so after the Great War; it... more...

Victor Roy Victor's Soliloquy. Heavily rolleth the wintry clouds,  And the ceaseless snow is falling, falling,As the frost king's troops in their icy shrouds,  Whistle and howl, like lost spirits calling. But a warm luxuriantly furnished room,  Is an antidote to the wild night storm,Lamplight and firelight banish the gloom,  No poverty stalks there with cold gaunt form. Yet there... more...

VICTOR READS THE FATEFUL STAR Saturday had been a strenuous day for the baseball team of Winona University, and Victor Ollnee, its redoubtable catcher, slept late. Breakfast at the Beta Kappa Fraternity House on Sunday started without him, and Gilbert Frenson, who never played ball or tennis, and Arnold Macey, who was too effeminate to swing a bat, divided the Sunday morning Star between them. "See... more...

"I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like athunderbolt." These words of Maupassant to José Maria de Heredia onthe occasion of a memorable meeting are, in spite of their morbidsolemnity, not an inexact summing up of the brief career during which,for ten years, the writer, by turns undaunted and sorrowful, with thefertility of a master hand produced poetry, novels, romances... more...

CHAPTER I THE CURTAIN RISES "For the Lord's sake, Jennie—" Dick Welford paused at the bottom of a range of steps which wound up the capitol hill from Pennsylvania Avenue. The girl standing at the top stamped her foot imperiously. "Hurry—hurry!" "I won't—" "Then I'll leave you!" The boy laughed. "You don't dare. It's barely sunup—still... more...

THE BRONCKHORST DIVORCE-CASE By Rudyard Kipling (Civil and Military Gazette, 26 September 1884) In the daytime, when she moved about me,    In the night, when she was sleeping at my side,—I was wearied, I was wearied of her presence,Day by day and night by night I grew to hate her—    Would God that she or I had died! —CONFESSIONS There was a man called Bronckhorst—a three-cornered,... more...